Name: Lorekeeper @ 2014-01-01 07:34 ID: f33daf

In appreciation of the influx of consensual guro stories of late, I'll repost some more of this old classic by IMadeAWrite:



The Christmas event at Club Moros doesn't actually take place on Christmas day. People want to spend the day itself with their families after all, and even though most of us are thoroughly non-religious, there's still something about snuffing people on the day itself that feels... uncomfortable. So, the actual event is held two weeks before, on the tenth. And it is easily the most fun night of our year.

There is of course the attraction that it's one of the fifteen days per year on which we snuff one of the Moros girls, but there's also a tradition of gift-giving which is uniquely.... us.

The private yachts and planes have been arriving for days, each bearing a party of Moros club members and a number of gifts.

Many of those gifts will be for me. Others will be for other club members, or for the Moros girls. One or two will be gifts to the club as a whole, and all the gifts are the same: They are all living human beings, and by sunrise on the morning of December 11th, they will all be dead.

It is, in short, the single largest annual mass suicide/homicide in the world. Last year, eight lives came to a violent end, four of whom were club members who presented themselves to me as presents. It's the one night of the year when self-snuff is allowed, too, and last year two of our patrons wound up taking their own lives.

This year, the party was already off to a good start. I had been pleased to receive two snuff-slave gifts: a beautiful young Italian man from Janet, and a Brazilian call-girl who'd met with her former owner via the Moros network.

Bridget and Madison had both also received gifts, admirers who were club members thanks to the patronage of a wealthier member and who had gladly given themselves to their favourite M-girls. I was also aware that their patron had signed Janet's half year snuff-slave contract and sealed the deal with a gift of his own wife. So, we were up to six just within the first hour, though none of them were actually dead yet.

People were apparently holding a competition to see who could arrive the most fashionably late, and we didn't really want to begin the snuffing until most of the attendees had arrived.

Did I mention that I was presiding over this feast of festive decadence dressed as Santa? Well, I was.

“And have you been a good girl this year?” I asked jovially of the petite, naked, pigtailed blonde on my lap.

“Oh no, Santa, I've been sooo naughty.” she purred, grinding her bare crotch against my leg.

“Oh dear. And how exactly have you been naughty?” I asked her.
“Mmm...” she kissed me, and giggled as my massive, curly false beard tickled her. “I used MorosNet.” she said.

“Go on....” I said. I grabbed her wrist and guided her hand to her pussy.

“Oooh, Santa, it was wonderful. I found this shy, skinny nerd from New York. Anh! Oooand I took his virginity! He was so happy, he said he'd be my slave for ever and ever.”

“And what did you do with your slave?” I asked, smiling broadly.

“I ordered him to prove his loyalty by cutting off his own penis and cooking it for me to eat.” she purred. She pushed fingers soaked in pussy juice into my mouth as she continued.

“Ooooh and he was such a GOOD slave, he even did his balls too. And he stood and watched as I ate them aaalll up. And as a reward for being such a good slave, I took him down to my basement and introduced him to my table saw.” She took the fingers from my mouth and inserted them into her sopping cunny again.

“Well, you certainly have been VERY naughty.” I told her with a wink. “And Santa Lawes always rewards a naughty girl. What would you like for Christmas little girl?”

“I'd like you to give a year's club membership to my BFF, Hailey.”

“You know the rules, Sandra.” I told her, slightly sternly. “Club members have to be vetted by the psych team.”

“Oh, she'll pass.” Sandra said, beaming happily. “She operated the saw.”

I laughed. “I'll see what I can do. Now run along little girl.”

I gave her a slap on the ass as she slipped off my lap and she ran away into the crowd with a skip and a squeal, nymph-naked and carefree.

The next person in the queue was a welcome old friend I hadn't seen in months. “Dan!” I cried and rose from my Santa throne to give him a big hug. Dan owns a “small” oil drilling firm that his grandfather set up, and was one of the first members of club Moros. He has a lifetime Diamond membership which grants him access to special services such as fifty million dollars of annual club credit for use on MorosNet or on snuff night auctions.

“Al, it's been too long.” he said with a grin. “Sorry I couldn't come last month, I heard you finally had a double-snuff.”

“Yeah, Becky couldn't take the wait any more and persuaded me to bend club rules for her. Nowadays the M-girl contract has a clause that says a girl can volunteer for a snuff auction on the fifth anniversary of her hiring and every year thereafter.”

“How'd the girls like that?”

“Total approval. Our next five-year would be Mercedes but that's in a year and a half. She says she'll definitely use the clause if she makes it that far, though.”

“Well, Merry Christmas. I brought you a present. June?”

A young woman – redhead and skinny, with big brown eyes and lovely pink puffy nipples – stepped up beside Dan and smiled at me. I was taken aback. June was Dan's youngest daughter, and would only have turned eighteen a few weeks ago. Dan's son and two other daughters were all club members and his eldest daughter, Brandi, had been one of the first M-girls, snuffed while her father watched proudly a mere four months after the club first opened.

Six years ago, when June had just turned twelve, I had been visiting Dan to discuss this idea I'd had for using the internet to set up a matchmaking circle for people interested in snuff sex, and to ask him for an investment in getting it set up. Halfway through the conversation June had marched into the room jay-naked and, bold as brass, asked me to take her virginity. I'm not interested in children so I'd let her down, I hoped gently. Dan later told me that she'd been heartbroken “for at least a week” until she convinced her brother, then fifteen, to do it instead.

I could still remember the way she'd looked, pre-teen but with all the confidence of an older woman, showing herself off in the arrogant certainty that no man could resist her. And I hadn't resisted, not really. For six years, I'd hoped and dreamed about the day I could finally have her to myself. The thought of fucking her, owning her and of snuffing her had been a recurring fantasy of mine for half a decade. Even the thought of seeing the vital spark leave such a vivacious young thing was enough to make my cock get a couple of points firmer.

“Oh, Dan, she's perfect.” I gushed, almost overwhelmed by gratitude. Her mother had served herself as dinner at his birthday party three years previously, and for the whole event I'd been imagining it was June instead – not hard, as she very closely resembled her mother. Father and daughter smiled at my obvious delight. “I hope you don't mind getting the same boring old thing I give you every year.”

That “same boring old thing” being that, rather than being auctioned off, the M-girl whose name came up in tonight's lottery would automatically be his to play with.

Dan shook his head sadly. “Not this year, Al. I'm self-snuffing tonight.”

The news saddened me somewhat, but I see people I like die on a very regular basis. A lot of the time, I'm the one killing them. The trick is to find joy in their life and death and not mourn them. Easier said than done, but I've had a lot of practise. I'd miss Dan, but I was also salivating at the thought of getting to watch his own daughter murder-fuck him before I did the same to her.

“What's happening to the family business?” I asked.

“Oh, we've got it all sorted out with your people. Officially, our yacht ran into trouble two days ago during a pleasure cruise, and we're all missing presumed dead. After which it won't be the family business, of course.”

“All five of you? The whole family?” I confess, I was a little shocked. Ever since I'd seen Dan and the four kids barbecue and eat their mother, I'd known the whole family were my kind of freaks, but I'd never anticipated this.

“Yep. June is your gift, obviously. Bill, Sue and I are going to self-snuff together and Annie's volunteering to be an M-girl.”

“But... the whole family, Dan? Really?”

“We've all been looking forward to it since Miranda cooked herself for us.” Dan said simply, and that settled it. “Besides, Annie's only doing the M-girl thing for a year. If she lives, then she gets to be the miraculous survival story, marooned on a desert island for a year, and the whole company goes to her.”

“She's not quite as eager to be snuffed as the rest of you are, I take it?”

“Not quite. She's a client, not a victim. But she wanted to do something, if the rest of us are.”

I nodded my understanding. “Client” and “Victim” are the terms used in our circle to refer to the two possible roles on M-net. Classifying yourself as a “victim” means that you have a death wish, so usually if a person just wants to be snuffed, they just pay to sign up on M-net as a victim. Becoming an M-girl is an alternative for those who aren't averse to the idea of being snuffed, but don't actually actively want it to happen... usually. Obviously, there are exceptions like Bridget or Becky, but most of the M-girls i've ever employed have been consenting, but not actually enthusiastic.

There are other advantages, such as getting paid rather than having to pay for the service, so a lot of M-girls are women who can't afford to pay to become Victims. Those are usually the lifers, the ones who keep coming back until they're finally snuffed. Whatever a given person's logic, I rarely mind because M-girls are each worth a lot more to me than willing victims who pay for the M-net service.

“Are you sure you don't want your usual present anyway? One last kill before you go?” I offered

“I'm sure, but thanks Al. You've been good to us over the years. It's been Long Pig at every birthday party for the last three years thanks to you and M-net.”

Impulsively, I pulled my fake beard aside and gave him a kiss which he returned through a smile. “Alright.” I said. “But you're not going out without letting me suck your cock one last time.”

“Alright, alright you sentimental idiot.” he laughed. “No rush though, we've got a long night ahead of us. The best things, eh?”

“The best things.” I agreed. I grabbed his hand and guided it to the bulge in my festive red-and-white pajama trousers, which he squeezed fondly before walking away to find a waiter.

I resumed my position on the grotto's throne and smiled as my next supplicant sat on my lap. He pulled his own stiff rod from his pants, slipped mine out too and pressed the shafts together. I felt our balls touch and his warm hand wrap around both of us as he told me how he'd been a very naughty boy this year...

Some hours later, I'd finished with being Santa Lawes. All the wishes were dealt with, and all the presents had been exchanged – a total of eighteen live, willing human sacrifices to other people's pleasure, plus the M-girl whose number was about to be drawn. At some point during the long list of people wanting to sit on Santa's lap I'd lost the red-and-white pajamas, so by now I was wearing only the beard, the hat and a massive erection.

This drew more than a few wolf-whistles and catcalls as I bounded up on stage to draw the lottery, and I paused to show myself off for a second.

“My friends, welcome and a very, VERY Merry Christmas to you all!” I cried joyfully. “You all know my old saying, about waiting for things....” I paused for effect, and people groaned as the moment dragged on to a few seconds. “...okay, that's enough.” this drew a laugh. Smiling like a showman, I reached into the randomizer and drew out a ping-pong ball with a name on it.

I turned to where the M-girls were all lined up on the stage, every last one of them rapt and aroused as they waited, YEARNED to see if it would be their name tonight.

“Fujiko!” I announced.

There was the usual pantomime of the girls sagging in a mixture of relief and disappontment, then clustering around their newly doomed friend to congratulate her and say their goodbyes, but this one went on for a while. Fujiko had become enormously popular with the girls during the eight months she had been with us. She was a one-shotter, a girl who had joined the M-girl team for one contract in the hopes of netting herself a few million US dollars-worth to help her build a career and wealthy future back in Japan.

That prosperous future would now never happen, but it was clear she didn't really mind. She'd been enjoying life on the island so much I was pretty sure she'd been planning to renew her contract, and girls who renewed their contract once usually kept renewing it until their number came up.

“By the way, Dan has very kindly forfeited his usual gift from me of being able to win tonight's auction automatically, as he has given himself as a present to his children tonight, so I'll give you a few minutes to check your funds and then we'll start the bidding!” I announced. “Dan, get up here.”

Dan slipped through the crowd, accepting a few farewells and compliments from other patrons and stepped up onto the stage.

“I insist you have a hand in this, so you can be the auctioneer.” I told him. He readily agreed and started the bidding at the usual price of thirty-five million.

I smiled and dropped to my knees. He was wearing a stylish dark grey suit, and I unzipped the fly of his pants and slipped his penis out. He was already quite hard, having anticipated my move, and I smiled as I enveloped the head in my tongue, then licked all the way down and up the underside and flicked the very tip as an ending flourish. I moistened my lips and slid them slowly over the soft, pink flesh of his cock and closed my eyes as I took him down and down, deep into the back of my throat and beyond.

I'm proud to say that thanks to the very slow blowjob I gave him, he had a hard time focusing on the auction, but also that the patrons, perhaps inspired by the show I was putting on, bid very generously and Fujiko eventually went for a hundred and sixty-eight million dollars to the owner of a string of casinos, who promptly gave the tiny, large-breasted Japanese girl to his wife. There was a round of applause when I finally stimulated Dan to come in my mouth, and I grinned wickedly as I swallowed his seed, even as he bashfully acknowledged the crowd.

I stood up and wiped my mouth with a grin. “Well, my dear people, I think we're almost ready to begin the really fun part of the night. If there's anyone here who wants to suddenly offer themselves to somebody else as a gift, speak now or you'll have to wait for next year.”

I was a little disappointed, but not surprised, when nobody volunteered. Club members tend to be a decisive lot who'd have gifted themselves early on if they were going to do it at all.
“In which case, my darlings, I'm pleased to announce that last year's record has been soundly broken and that tonight no less than THIRTEEN people will be snuffed. And remember, if you decide that you want to self-snuff tonight, go right ahead in the knowledge that the M-network will take care of covering it up.”

I stood there in the spotlight, thoroughly enjoying myself as I paused for effect, then...

“I declare tonight's festivities... begun!” and there was a scramble as people rushed to “unwrap” their presents.

The first death happened five minutes later. The Italian snuff-boy that Janet had given me died with his nose stopped up by candle wax and my painfully hard dick deep in the back of his throat, shutting off his air. His last orgasm was shot deep into the cunt of the Brazilian girl who'd been given to me. His final desperate, instinctive attempts to draw breath drove me absolutely wild, and I think he actually drowned in my semen as the tension that had been building in my balls for several hours was finally released.

The second and third happened together. Two club members, young women who had been introduced to each other and the club via a patronage, had given themselves to each other. They had settled on a double short-drop hanging, wrapped around each other and fingering each other senseless with their lips locked in a final deathly kiss. They jerked and writhed on their nooses, but didn't once let go of each other until long after they were both dead. Their nude, shapely corpses were left swinging gently on the stage for the rest of the night.

Madison – Mousey-haired, geeky Madison - suspended her willing victim, the fourth casualty of the night, in the Frame that had held Becky at the start of the month, and ate the living cock and balls right off his body with the aid of a set of sharp metal over-dentures, chewing and swallowing the raw organ with relish. He passed out from the pain, but she revived him long enough to give him a loving farewell kiss before she used a power saw to remove his head. Moaning in carnal delight, she pressed her dead devotee's face into her pussy and stimulated herself to a rippling climax with it.

Number five was an attempt by a husband and wife pair to carry out that old Dolcett fantasy of the spit impalement clean through the pussy and out through the mouth. True to reality rather than the fantasy, the massive trauma from the sharpened spit sent the victim into shock and she expired long before the stained pole slid between her lips. The process of cleaning and gutting her carcass for the fire pit was messy and, to my mind, not really very erotic but her former husband obviously got off on it, and as he watched he fucked one of the M-girls, Laura, so hard that she fainted.

Number six was my Brazilian gift, on whom I performed brain surgery, club Moros style. I tied her to a chair with a pair of large, angled mirrors In front of it that afforded her an excellent view of the crown of her own head. Wanting her to be conscious, I scalped her under local anaesthetic, and carefully removed a neat round cap of bone to expose the pinkish brain underneath. The mere sight of her own naked cerebellum was enough to make her come, especially when I prodded it with a finger, which made her jerk and gasp.

The wound was already mortal, but her death would be slow and entirely unerotic, so I hastened the process using a sharpened egg whisk attached to the bit of a masonry drill. She spasmed and jerked in a very pleasing way and spat a string of incoherent noises that might have been attempts at words as I reduced her brain to a bloody slurry inside her skull. June, who had been tonguing her pussy, reported that her last experience in this world was an earth-shattering orgasm.

Number seven was Fujiko. Again, her killers wanted an impalement but this time they weren't concerned about a neat Dolcettish spit roast. They wanted something much more brutal and medieval, so she climbed onto a device designed specifically for that purpose. Nothing so much as a steel spike sheathed in a steel tube with a narrow wooden platform to stand on around the outside, it raised her high in the air on a pneumatic piston, and then the outer sheath platform dropped slowly away. Diligently, Fujiko guided the sharp (but not too sharp) pole into her cunt, and the platform fell away until ultimately her weight was fully supported on the spike. Over the course of several long minutes, as others died around her, Fujiko slid slowly down and down the pole, whimpering and screaming in agony as the spike slowly violated her innards, lubricated by the river of blood running down it.

Eventually, her deep genetic instinct to live kicked in and she became a frightened animal, kicking and wailing in terror. Each motion only served to drive the spike further into her, however, and she passed away soon after, growing weak quickly until only a few involuntary post-mortem twitches were left to drive her cooling body down and down, until the spike finally emerged from the top of the rib cage, at the base of her throat. With the last resistance gone, gravity took over and her impaled, ruined, beautiful carcass slid down the rest of the pole's length to land with a thump at the bottom. Her dead, lifeless eyes were still wide open and she spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling with an expression of horror and fear.

Number nine was the woman to whom Fujiko had been given as a gift. Astoundingly, even after witnessing the horrific ordeal Fujiko had undergone, she willingly asked for and received exactly the same death. I was amazed, given how obviously traumatic the experience had been for the M-girl, that the casino baron's wife mounted the pole with every expression of intense arousal. The outcome was exactly the same however, right down to the naked, unreasoning fear and the open-eyed wild stare into eternity. I noticed, however, that despite their wails and screaming, in the end they had both died with soaking wet cunts and diamond-hard nipples.

Number ten was Bridget's devoted fan. His eyes were already long-gone into her belly of course, but she had taken care to make his death as slow and vicious as possible. Her tool of choice for the night was a simple screwdriver, and a semicircle of admiring fans had gathered round to watch as she demonstrated increasingly creative and sadistic ways to employ it, right up to and including decapitating her plaything once she was finally bored, after her third or fourth climax. Don't ask me to go into detail about how you decapitate somebody with a flathead screwdriver. Let's just say that it's a drawn-out, complicated and very messy procedure that made me respect her abilities even more, and drew a round of vigorous applause from the onlookers.

Number eleven was the wife of Janet's new male snuff-slave. Janet had been lovingly screwing her senseless in what I now knew to be a ritual of thanks to those who gave her their lives (Except Becky, I recalled. Presumably she had different rules for M-girls). Her death, when it finally came, was quick and probably comparatively painless. It was a classic sword beheading. Crying in response to those deep, indelible survival instincts, the woman was nevertheless docile and consenting as she knelt and bared her neck, and I could see her fingers still working between her legs as her former husband, Janet's new slave (whose own death was now only six months away) hefted the excellent claymore from Janet's private collection, and took her head off with one powerful swing. I was pleased to see that tonight was one of the rare occasions when a severed head remained alive and conscious for a little while after the decapitation, and Janet raised it to her mouth for a sweet, shared kiss to usher her slave's ex-wife into eternity.

Which brought us to the two deaths of the night I had been most looking forward to, and putting off until last on the basis that they were probably worth waiting for - Dan and June. Dan was currently in the middle of a room with his rigid shaft buried deep inside his son, Bill's, ass. June, and Annie, meanwhile, wee were taking turns giving Sue a tongue bath, and Sue was treating her brother to a fantastic blowjob. I didn't know what the five of them had planned, but I assumed it was going to be excellent, given the quality of the fucking that was on display.

I took stock of the party as they I waited for them to finish their incestuous little gangbang and get down to the real business. A little disappointingly, nobody had decided to self-snuff this year, but the quality of some of the deaths had been surpassing. From the two lovers still hanging from the gallows, to the stage where Bridget and Madison were showering the gore off each other and having fun doing it by making their victims' severed heads make out, to the corner where Fujiko and her brief owner continued to scream silently, propped upright by the invading poles that had passed right through them.

There was a noise from the middle of the room and I returned my attention to Dan and his family. A thrill of anticipation hit me as I realised what was going on.

June and Annie had given their old man, brother and sister a last goodbye kiss each and withdrawn. Now, Dan and Sue were inside a reinforced bulletproof glass chamber that had been dropped from the ceiling, a tool used only in snuffs that involved explosives, to avoid collateral damage to the patrons.

The explosive itself was what we called a “dildo grenade”. I hope you don't need TOO much prompting to get a rough idea what those are, but the crucial things to know are that they're remotely activated by an onlooker or by the snuffees themselves, and have enough power to pulp anyone who happens to be in the chamber with them. Right now, Sue was sucking on it furiously while Dan and Bill double-penetrated her.

June sauntered over to me, shining with sweat and her own sex juices.

“They always come together”. She said with a smile, staring at the display of shameless incest inside the blast cage. She slid the fingers of her right hand inside herself, and with the other she massaged one of her tits. “Every time. That's why they like that threesome so fucking much. Guess that's why they wanted to go together.”

“We know when they'll push the button, then.” I said, smiling. We stood there and watched her family fucking inside the cage for several seconds, and then her warm hand snuck into mine and laced fingers with me.

Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, I pulled June in close, sending one hand to slip between her legs while the other found her breasts. Her knees went weak and we settled down to a kneeling position, both of us entranced by the display in front of us.

I saw the end coming easily enough. The fucking in the blast cage reached a crescendo and, true to June's prediction, Father, son and daughter all came together at the same time. I wished that time could slow so that I could see the moment in exquisite detail. We had ultra-high speed cameras watching the cage of course, slaved to the same remote control as the bomb in Sue's mouth. But it just wouldn't be quite the same as getting to watch the actual moment of death at that leisurely, intense pace.

Through the glass, Dan met my gaze – or possibly June's, it was hard to tell - even as he climaxed. Beneath him, his children were in the throes of their own ultimate orgasms. He gave me a smile, his eyes closed in ecstasy and he clicked the remote.

Through the thick blast-proof glass and steel reinforcement of the chamber, the explosion was reduced to a dull, muffled CRUMP! The glass crazed as shrapnel hit it several times faster than a rifle bullet, but didn't fail anywhere. The view became obscured as impenetrable liquid red smeared the inside of the chamber. There was silence in the club for a second, and then the winch in the ceiling pulled the chamber up and away, to reveal the bloody mass of pulped meat and organs and splintered bones that had only seconds before been a passionate, incestuous threesome. Now, only a forensic pathologist could have told where each obliterated corpse ended and the next began.

In my arms, June gave a gasping sob that was as born as much from grief as from arousal.

“Shit. They're really dead.” she gasped. “I loved them so much and they're really dead now! They killed themselves!”

Her older sister and my newest M-girl, Annie, had a similar expression of confused, horny bereavement on her face. Moving with jerky, stunned steps she wandered over to us and sank to her knees, throwing her arms around her little sister for comfort.

“It's what they wanted.” I reminded them, perhaps a little cruelly. “And it's what YOU want.”

Annie shivered, but June actually perked up at that.

“Yes. It is, isn't it?” She said in a faraway voice. “Ever since Brandi died. Ever since I ate mom.”

Annie sobbed again, but this time it was pure erotic excitement. From where I was kneeling, still holding June close to me, I could see that she was fingering herself into a frenzy, even while her cheeks were wet.

“You gave yourself to me, June. And I'm going to kill you.”

“Oh....” there was fear in her voice, but it was an excited, eager sounding fear.

“But I've got something special planned for you. You're not going to die tonight, you see.”

“Go on. Tell me. Tell me how you're going to use me!” she gasped.

“Oh, it's very simple. You see, it's been too long since I last made a girl into soup.”

“Hnnnh!” she whimpered, petrified and oh so very willing at once. She was trembling in my arms, but rather than trying to pull away, she was grinding herself against me.

“First, I'll fuck you. I've been wanting to ever since you were a little girl who begged me to take her maidenhead. Then I'll take your arms and legs and cook them. It's alright, you'll get to have a taste. I'll cook them in private for just you, Annie and I to share.”

At the mention of her name, Annie gave me a look that spoke volumes about just how much she really was into it all, and how scared she was of admitting it. I put a hand to the back of her head, lovingly, and then with gentle pressure I directed her to kiss her sister, which she did with startling passion.

Unprompted, their hands sought each other's pussies.

“Then, I'll fuck Annie. For a year, she's going to be mine, and I always start it off with a private session. Who knows, maybe in a few months her number will come up and somebody will do to her what I'm going to do to you.”

“Nnnnnnffffuck!” Annie whimpered, breaking the kiss for a second.

“But before I cut you up and cook you June, you know what I'm going to do to you? Do you want to know what the most horrible torture I'll give you is?"

"MMM! Oh, tell me, tell me!"

I smiled a smile that the Devil himself couldn't match for pure malice.

"Nothing." I said simply. "I'm going to wait. I'm going to be patient. I'm going to tease you and tantalise you. I'm going to drag your life on and on and keep you guessing about when the day will finally come. Before I'm done tormenting you, you will beg me on your knees to end your life. And when I finally decide that the time is right, I'm going to have your arms and legs off and boil you. I'm going to bring a big old pan of water up to the boil, and toss you right in. And when you've finally died from the scalding heat, I'm going to fish you out, clean you up, and chuck you back in to make a beautiful girl soup. I've done it before, I know the perfect recipe.”

June shuddered in my arms, but it was purely the product of a jolt of pleasure running through her from my skilful fingers.
“Who knows, maybe I'll have somebody join you in the pot. Maybe it'll be a delicious young stud. Maybe I'll make two-girl stew. Maybe Annie's number will come up on the First, and I'll buy her and make sister soup, that could be novel.”

The two sisters were thoroughly lost in the brutality I was describing to them now. I went on and on, casually laying out June's frustrating, humiliating and painful fate in as much agonising detail as I could, until both girls finally came with the shrieks of true snuff-sluts coming face to face with their most intimate desires.

As they came down, I murmured in June's ear for her alone.

“I've waited a long time to have you, my darling.” I said. “I've waited six years to feel you in my arms, to have your pretty little cunt wrapped around me. I've waited all that time, so I'm going to wait a little longer before I finally give you the end you crave. Because the best things – the absolute best things in life – are worth waiting a long, long time for.”