Posted by H.n. on May 04, 2000 at 18:05:31:
In Reply to: The truth about Sonya! posted by Her niece on May 04, 2000 at 18:01:59:
4.20 a.m.
Shit, my time is running short and so much is left to tell. I'll keep this short. I found a young Hispanic thug named José, maybe 18 years old, a certain person wanted to get rid of him anyway... the contact as made via a third party, he never saw me, he never heard my voice.
There was only one last problem to solve. You're much too smart not to become suspicious, if I determined on the last place and time to watch, and, like a wonder, the horse ripper would really appear on the scene. I had to make you believe that it wasn't me, who made the decisions. I had to trick you out and I did it by making use of your fascination with the supernatural... oh I can imagine perfectly, how furious you are now, reading this.
You were hypnotized by the show of this old gypsy woman I had engaged... yeah, I had paid her before, and the results of her mystically operations with the cards were prearranged. That old bitch was a Hell of a good actress! Damn, she even fooled you, and you were an expert with all this hocus-pocus. Hey, don't curse on me now... you knew that you never should have trusted me. Wasn't it you who once said about my type of guy. Psychos like you are the best lays - but you can never trust a psycho!
The last thing I arranged was this. I had the idea to tape everything we would do to the poor bastard on video. I knew you would object this insane idea. You're having more temperament then I have, but you're also more reasonable and you had never allowed me to create all means of evidence for an act of homicide, the cops would need. So I bought a little spy-cam and fixed it inside my cap. Perfectly!
On the day of our last hunt you were quite excited, just like you had been the first time; the mystical hanky panky with the gypsy had made quite an impression on you. You bet I was aroused too! All the other times I had never really expected to see the ripper, but this time... I couldn't wait to see what you would do to the guy! Well, actually I wasn't aroused, I was as horny as a boar on Viagra!
When I saw you dressing for the hunt in the evening, admiring the sexy contrast between your thrilling body, your white silk lingerie, and the rough military trouser and shirt and the clumsy boots that you put on, I immediately tried to get you out of the clothes again, but you refused it; condemning me to bear a painful tightness in my trousers for the rest of the night. At least you promised me the hottest sex of my life for later. When our mission was accomplished.
I dressed similar... well, no white silk lingerie, of course... and I wore that nazi peaked cap you've always found so ridiculous.
04.50 a.m.
It was another sticky hot Georgia summer night. We had to drive for about two hours - a pleasant time of chilling in the air stream of my convertible. After we had arrived and covered the car, we had to walk about half a mile. We didn't even have to use our flashlights because a full, yellow moon was lightening the scene. It was about midnight when we arrived at the place. The horses slept or grazed idly on the meadow, the stable was open and empty. We climbed over the fence and took a position inside the stable, near the gate; perfectly hidden with a clear view of the scene. I took the blanket, the wine, and my schnapps out of the rucksack and we curled down on the blanket.
Beside the excitement of stalking, you had always enjoyed the close contact with nature. I never gave a flying fart for nature, all the annoying insects and the stench from the flowers... I say, give me a city, give me concrete and asphalt and steel and the smell of gasoline and I'm a happy man. Lets burn down all this so-called nature and make parking lots out of it!... Shit, I'm drunk, I'm rambling... okay... Discipline!
Anyway, even I enjoyed a bucolic night when I had you on my side... smelling your dark, arousing scent I didn't care for the stench of all these plants and animals and the earth; hearing your voice oscillating between tantalizing huskiness and aggressive sharpness I could stand all these disturbing noises of vagaries and birds and rustling twigs; seeing you I could stand the irritating view of open space without houses and streets. Lol... how late is it? 4.55. Five hours and five minutes left to live and I'm still sentimental... yeah, I'm the most romantic psycho killer around!
You didn't know, that for the next four hours nothing would happen, but of course I knew, as I had instructed the guy to be at the ranch at 4.30; I had wanted it to be bright for the sake of my video. Knowing, I had to wait for several hours doubled my impatience to get rid of the pressure in my balls. Well, the same old game as the times before. I felt thrown back to my early youth with fumbling at a gal who refused to get out of her panties. You were so serious with our mission...
Finally you hissed at me, "If you can't hold it back help yourself! But go somewhere else, I don't wanna see that pathetic act!"
That was not what I had in mind for this night. I restrained myself; and waited for the guy to arrive and to pay for it! If he arrived... one can never fully rely on those scumbags. I found some relief in my schnapps, while you sipped cautiously on the wine.
When it dawned and became bright soon after 4.00, your mood declined. At 4.45 mine did the same.... but I encouraged you to stay, I blathered about a lucky feeling I that night. And inwardly I was cursing at the asshole; why didn't he come? Where were the professional ethics these days?
5.05 a.m. - my fingers are flying over the keyboard - and that's absolutely necessary to tell the rest of the story in the remaining five hours.
Then he came. He parked his car right beside the fence.
We took our guns and drew back deeper into the shadow of the stable. Inconspicuously I switched my camera on. We heard him open and close the car door and then the rear deck lid. And we heard him swearing lowly in Spanish; obviously he didn't really like this job. Fortunately you couldn't understand his words.
Peering out of the stable, we saw him climbing over the fence. A bodybuilder type, dressed in black, with long, dense, black hair. And he had really brought a machete along. He remained standing for a moment, looking over the meadow, watching the horses, which were nervously looking back at him, since the noises of his car and his cursing had roused them.
He obviously hated to be at this place. An unfamiliar situation for a city rat, who had most probably done his proper share of killing humans with guns; now he had to figure out how to get close enough to an alerted horse to pierce its belly with a machete. For a short moment I sympathized with him. Yeah, that could have been me.
Another thing going through my mind; while I had made all this up, this shithead really was about to slaughter a horse for money. So in fact he deserved all the pain that was in store for him. At least from your point of view... I was totally indifferent about reasons like these.
Finally, he walked slowly towards one of the animals, making silly noises that were apparently supposed to sound calming and reassuring. The horse watched him nervously with erected ears and he didn't get closer up to it than four meters, before it stepped aside and galloped away. It's panic went epidemic. All the other horses began to run and gathered in a distant edge of the meadow. Once again they looked at him and he stared back. He cursed again. I had to bite on my lips to suppress my laughter.
You whispered into my ear. "Let's attack!"
"No, wait. It's just too funny. He won't get any of them anyway."
Apparently you couldn't see the humor in this situation as I realized soon, when your knee hit my crotch and I heard you hissing. "Asshole! He has already killed enough helpless horses!"
Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. Lol.
Anyway, you were right; he kept his back towards us and he was nearing the horses again, this was the best moment for us to sneak up on him. We left the shadow of the stable and tiptoed over to him; the grass swallowed the noises of our steps. The boy just had neared the horses to the point of shooing them away again; that was the moment we began to run. The pounding of the galloping horses, an annoyed outcry by him, who threw his machete to the ground in frustration... and by now we stood behind him. He still hadn't perceived us. How had a thug with such lousy instincts survived that long in the city? Well, this was the night to end his lousy career.
I laid my hand on his shoulder and said, "Good morning."
He froze for a moment, then grabbed for his gun; and froze again, when he felt the cool muzzle of your .38 under his chin.
"Drop it. Slowly."
He did so.
We stepped back a little and allowed him to turn around. He found himself between two guns, pointing at him in the hands of a huge grinning Viking and a small lady with short, dark hair, whose cold eyes hatefully stared at his face. I wonder, which of us scared him more...
"Back to the stable?" I suggested.
"Yup!"
I picked up his gun and the machete and we walked back. He showed no resistance.
We walked behind him, and when he had entered the stable I simply kicked his ass, as a result of which he toppled to the ground. I dropped what I had in hands and pounced on him. Now he began to fight, just following his instincts as I guess, cause your gun was still pointing at him, so there was no realistic chance of escaping. He had no chance anyway; sitting on his back I easily got a hold of his wrists and ripped them at his back. You had the cuffs and in a moment he was shackled.
I rose and both of us looked down on him.
He regained his coolness and said. "This is a trap, huh? Hernando sent you?"
'No', I thought, 'Fernando sold you.'
I saw you frowning, and I knew that I had to interrupt this quickly; I didn't want you to hit on wrong, respectively right, ideas.
I kicked his balls and shouted. "Shut up! You won't talk yourself out of this!"
He curled and groaned. He didn't cry... tough guy! But not for too long, I thought.
You were still looking at him and said thoughtfully, "I always imagined this pervert was just an ugly, pale maggot. But he looks sweet... "
"Yeah, and this cutie stuck his machete into your mare's belly, then spanked his monkey while her guts were falling out... very sweet!"
Apparently my remark took instant effect; your heavy army boot, crashing into the side of his rib cage expressed exactly the viciousness I wanted to see.
"Why did you doing this?!!" You shouted at the boy, now kicking his head. He tried to avoid the blow, with a dull thump your boot smashed right into the center of his face.
"Be careful. You don't want to kill him all too quickly," I said.
You turned to me and flashes of rage seemed to shoot out of your eyes. Stunning!
As result of your kick, the boy seemed a little woozy for a moment, but he still didn't utter his pain with more than a little groaning, although blood was flowing out of his nose and he had to spit out a broken tooth.
"What do you want from me?" he finally asked.
"Oh, nothing special. Just your life, I guess," I answered, smashing my fist inside his face.
It felt strange. Your kick had apparently broken his nose, now my fist seemed to sink deeper inside in face than it normally would. And another thing felt strange. I had bashed one or other guy before, but I had never gotten a sexual kick out of it - now it was different. Must have been your enchanting attendance. Lol!
Bad luck; I had knocked him out, ending the fun for the moment. Then again, it was a good opportunity to undress him comfortably. I cut his shirt open with my knife to get him out of it without removing the handcuffs, while you stripped his lower parts.
I felt a little jealous when he laid there, strong and naked on the floor-- I saw your eyes rambling over his frame, relishing the smooth dark skin, the well-developed muscles, finally resting on his cock. I never got it, what all you chicks see in those Latin jerks. A look at his face reassured me-- he wasn't too pretty! Ha ha ha! And afterall, you didn't appear to be all that loving when you gazed at him either. You looked more like a cat, licking her lips and smiling at the luscious rat she wants to play with... Before biting its head off.
"What next?" I asked you, standing behind you, holding you, and fondling your tits through the fabric of your shirt while you leaned against me. I whispered into your ear, "Do you want to snuff him now?"
You were hesitating. Finally you said. "Shit. I don't know, it's getting late, we have to get out of here soon. Why didn't he come earlier? I would have liked to take my time with him..."
He seemed to come back to life.
"You're right. We have to pop off soon. Just do him!" I urged.
5.45 am. Four hours and a fifteen minutes left.
You took your knife, knelt down onto his naked frame with your knees on his belly and bent over him. A few slaps helped him wake up. When he saw the knife in your hand he began to struggle. I simply sat down on his knees, and his struggles stopped.
You grabbed his hair and smashed his head down on the ground. Then, lightly pushing the tip of the knife into his lower lip, opening a tiny little wound, you glanced into his eyes and hissed, "And now I'm gonna kill you, bastard."
He grunted, and so did I, albeit because of very different reasons. When I leaned forward, laying an arm around your waist, and feeling your body heat as you were just about to snuff this guy, I knew that this was even hotter than the moment back in Sweden when the blond chick had exhaled.
This was fucking better! For a moment I fantasized about being in José's position; and I thought I'd find it so hot that I'd die. LOL!
You were grabbed his dense, black hair with your left hand and held his head while you slid the blade of the knife softly over his left cheek; like painting a thin, red line across his face. The line quickly became broader by itself. He groaned, and so did I, while I slid my hand into your pants, groping for your pussy.
"Go on, honey," I muttered.
You looked at me for a moment, and your facial expression stunned me totally. The rage had disappeared completely, and it was replaced by a cruel, lustful grin. You looked fiendish. You were the sexiest thing I'd ever seen!
"Hey, lets take him to my house! We could play with him for hours!" you suggested.
I definitely wasn't in the mood to argue with you, besides the idea sounded great. I loved it. This topped all my expectations; revenge had been the key, but now you started to enjoy it! And I knew then, you were just like me!
So we took all our stuff, stowed it away in his car, gagged the guy and threw him into the trunk. We drove to my car, with a little work I had him jammed into the small trunk of the convertible and finally shut the trunk lid.
We didn't talk much on the drive home; each of us deep in our own thoughts as we drove though the early morning scenery.
06.00 a.m.
I'm getting nervous... but I have to go on...
Fortunately, your garage was attached to the house, so we didn't have to be careful when we unloaded the guy and brought him in. As we pushed him ahead of us through the house to the stairs leading down to the basement he stopped and refused to walk down. He turned to us, and for the first time I saw a glimpse of panic in his eyes. He realized what was in store for him once we got him down there. He muttered something incomprehensible through the gag.
"What's the matter, baby? Do you need help with the stairs?" You mocked with a cold sneer, then placed the sole of your boot in his crotch.
"Here we go!" You said, and slowly pushed him backward until he lost his balance, toppled over, and bounced down the stairs. When he had reached the floor and remained there motionless, I worried you might have already killed him, but soon he showed signs of life again.
...only to be pounced on by Bundy, who had appeared silently out of the blue, flew down the stairs, and promptly attacked the guy. Growling like a t-rex, he snapped at the young man's arm. I saw you smiling. That canine bastard was your pride and joy!
"Good boy," You croone, and then hissed, "Sic him!"
The dog sank his teeth deeper into the guy's upper arm, lacerating the tissue, tugging the man around wildly.
"Bundy, drop him!" You commanded after a minute of gloating and enjoying the spectacle. Bundy, despite his rage, obeyed immediately. Loosening the grip of his jaws he stood over José, still growling in a most threatening way, waiting for your next command. The arm of his victim looked like raw mince meat where Bundy's jaws had worked on it.
"Stand up!" was your next command, but this time it wasn't directed at Bundy, but at José.
The boy did as he was told, awkwardly, with his hands still manacled behind his back. Apparently, the mastiff frightened him much more than we did.
"Run, boy," You ordered with a deadly calm tone to your voice, pointing at the door at the end of the corridor.
José looked at the door that was six meters ahead of him, and knew what you had in mind. For the first time I saw his eyes getting wet, a pleading expression formed on his face, while dull noises came through the gag.
"Run, boy," You repeated, with a thin, heartless smile on your face, "Or I'll feed Bundy with that little wiener." You pointed at the boy's shriveled cock, which was not two feet away from the dog's snarling muzzle.
You smiled at the terrified boy who still hesitated, desperately searching for some way to save himself. A sour scent of cold sweat spread from him, while three humans and one dog tensely watched each other for a few silent moments.
Then he began to run, and he was fast--apparently he hadn't broken any bones during the fall down the stairs.
"Gettem, Bundy!" you shouted gaily.
Faster than a bullet the dog honed in on José, jumped at his back, and knocked him down.
"Sic leg!"
The fiendish beast worked like the perfect lethal weapon, crazed with blood lust, yet he understood the command and executed it perfectly. He grabbed the boy's left thigh with his bone crushing jaws and crunched it. This time the boy couldn't help but cry out in pain. Even through the gag his voice sounded shrill and pathetic.
We walked over to the thrashing pair on the ground and you relished the view. You encouraged Bundy to bite more... harder... while I stood behind you, looking down at the struggling boy, my chin resting on your head, smelling the scent of your hair, my hands on your tits, feeling your nipples becoming erecting, and the stone hard bulge at the front of my trousers pressing at your bottom. I could feel, I could even smell your increasing arousal. You were shivering with excitement in my arms.
"Are you having fun, maggot?" You taunted the crying boy, "Hey, after all, you love playing with animals, don't you?"
He desperately shook his head, while he slithered backwards on his bottom, hopelessly trying to escape Bundy.
"Drop him, Bundy!" you commanded again, "Hey that's fun! Let's do more! But I guess he doesn't need the cuffs any longer."
You took the key and removed the handcuffs--the guy was far to scared and hurt to make any serious attempts at resistance. And even if he had tried it would have only added to our entertainment, both for us and the dog.
The game went on for a long time. The boy would run, stumble, and in the end, when he couldn't stand up anymore, he crawled along the corridor again and again, only to be fetched and bitten by Bundy each time, until you ordered the dog to release his prey. As the poor boy experienced the worst hour of his life, we were kissing and fondling each other, until finally we ripped our clothes away and fucked wildly on the floor, while Bundy gnawed on the random limb. The corridor was filled with a variety of noises produced by four excited beings.
I hadn't seen you climax so hard before, you were drencged in sweat, you screamed out your lust - and you didn't take your eyes away from the struggling boy for a second as I pumped all I had into your pussy from behind.
When it was over, you closed your eyes and relaxed for a while, too exhausted or too indifferent to give the release command to Bundy, who continued lacerating the youth's ass.
Eventually we got up and you walked over to your dog. You were stark naked, yet you moved with all the self-confident grace of a Queen. You bend down to cuddle Bundy, cooing praising words to him.
"I'll take a shower," you finally said, looking at me, "Put him to the guest room, okay?" and without waiting for an answer, you turned to Bundy, "C'mon boy, you must be hungry."
Both you and the dog turned around, and I couldn't resist watching as you walked up the stairs; God, what a pair of marvelous asscheeks! Damn, the swinging buttocks of a naked gal walking up a stair; what could be nicer to look at!
6.35 a.m.
When you had disappeared, I turned to the guy who still cowered on the floor, bleeding from several ugly wounds, looking at me with his eyes full of pain and terror. All of his composure had gone. For a moment I felt compassion. Then I remembered your lust when you had tortured him and I imagined all the lust still to come, for you... and for me. This boy was dead anyway; pointless to waste any sympathy on him.
"Come on, you've heard what she said," I said, pointing at the door of the "guest room", which he had been trying to reach so desperately during the last hour. He tried to say something, and since I had the feeling that it was safe now to let him speak, I removed the gag.
"Why? Why are you doing this?!"
What could I say?
"Well, you shouldn't have tried to kill a horse. But the main reason is because she likes it. Havn't you noticed that? You will die for her pleasure. Now move!"
He didn't grasp it, but he tried to stand up. Vainly; he would never again be able to stand on what Bundy had left of his legs. Crying, he crashed to the floor again, and I had to grab his feet and pull him through the corridor, which looked as if someone had slaughtered a pig in it. I dragged him to the room and laid him out where you wanted him.
Yeah, it was the very room I'm caught in now. Only the desk wasn't here at that time. An empty room aside from the bed and an old locker with tools for the house and garden.
I left the boy on the floor, leaning him back against the wall. Before taking a seat on the bed I carefully placed my cap with the hidden cam on the locker, hoping that it would cover most of the room. Then both of us waited for your return. Silently; I had no need for conversation, and he might have recovered a bit of his pride, once again becoming silent and refusing to beg.