>>2681

K/V: Victim
Name: Sheryl Gurevich
Age: 27
Sex: F
Characteristics: See image
Location: A seaside resort, on a hot summer day


Her name was Abigail, Abigail Cane. I've been observing her daily motions the last few weeks, ever since she and I bumped into each other by accident at the cafeteria on campus. She had stammered out an apology and scurried off, but I was captivated by her. Abigail was a beauty, and the brief physical contact I had tasted gave me a hunger for more intimacy. It had been a while since I last felt this way about a girl, and so I began to lay the groundwork for this new target.

I began to shadow her around, as she walked around campus. She was very fond of late night walks, better to gather her busy thoughts, I presumed. Well, she needn't worry about that much longer.

I began to plan and prepare for my date. I bought drab, used clothes from a Salvation Army located a few hours away, and mapped out a route from the campus parking lot to an isolated location, where I could enjoy her, and burn any evidence in peace.
I still had some leftover supplies from the last date, including zip ties, a Taser Bolt and plenty of duct tape, so I didn't worry about that. Now all I needed was a time and a place.

Abigail breathed in the cool night air, then exhaled, long and slow. She was stressed, stressed beyond belief. Her final exams of the semester were coming up, and the toll of nonstop studying was taxing. Absentmindedly playing with her lustrous long raven hair, she began to walk back across the parking lot towards the university dorms, not noticing the shadowy figure waiting behind a white flat panel van. Before she could even react, the figure leapt out at her, and jabbed her with 50,000 volts. Abigail went rigid, her central nervous system overloaded by the taser shot. I quickly secured her hands behind her back with a ziptie, and ensured her silence with a few pieces of duct tape, before shoving her in the back of the van, and making a quick escape. As I drove, that familiar adrenaline rush washed over me. Deep breaths, deep breaths, I reminded myself. No time to make a rookie mistake here.

The isolated spot I had mapped out earlier was a plot of woodland far out in the countryside. I had inherited it from a distant relative years ago, and had since then constructed a comfy little cabin, with a special basement for my hobbies. After pulling up to the front of the cabin, I opened up the back of the van to carry my prize in. Abigail had recovered from the taser shock by that time, and tried to bolt past me. I had anticipated that, and with a fresh charge in the taser, zapped her again. She clumsily fell to the ground, body stiffened by the taser shot. Now that she was more or less out again, I gathered her up, and carried her in.

Once inside and down in the basement, I secured her unconscious body to a chair, and began to strip her of her clothes. I admired her soft and curvy body. Despite her obviously sedentary lifestyle, she hadn't turned into an utter whale like some of her fellow Computer Science students. I got to her underwear, with a quick motion, I cut through her bra straps, letting the cups fall away as her pendulous breasts let gravity take hold. Good lord, they were things of beauty. Similiarly, I cut through her panties, revealing a gloriously unshaven bush. I tossed the clothes into a garbage bag for later disposal, and just stood there, drinking in her beauty. Abigail had by then, regained consciousness, and was in the midst of having a fear induced breakdown. Her chestnut eyes were zipping around, and everything they laid a bead on increased her terror. She began to hyperventilate when she noticed the array of saws and knives hanging on pegs imbedded into the wall. The autopsy table and meat hooks probably didn't help her calm down.

Picking up a camera, I began to take photos of Abigail. Every concievable angle and portion of her body, I documented. I told her to calm down, that this was her final photoshoot in this world and why would you mess up such a beautiful face with tears and snot? I set the camera up on a tripod and set it to videorecord mode. This was the best part. I took off my jeans and began to rub my cock on her face. The warm wetness of her tear streaked cheeks made my dick rock hard. I squeezed and pulled on her tits, enjoying the grunts and wimpering emanating from behind her taped up mouth. With one hand on her crotch, I ripped off the tape, leaving her gasping. The last girl had tried to bite me all while screaming and threatening to kill me when I did that, but Abigail just looked down and began to sob. Nothing wrong with that, fighters are only fun in moderation. I grasped her chin, and forced her head up to look at her killer.
Any last words, Abigail? Her soft lips trembled. The sight of her terrified face was almost enough to let my load loose. I turned around and picked my favorite tool from the wall, a vicious looking combat knife. This blade had tasted the blood of many young women. I remember each one of them with perfect clarity, the way they had reacted as the knife sank into their bodies, the noises they made as they realized that this really was their demise, that there would be no last minute rescue or change of heart on my part.

Abigail closed her eyes when the man turned away. Her heart pounded away in her chest, each beat as loud as thunder in her ears, while her mouth felt drier than the Nevadan desert she had grown up by. She prayed that the next few minutes wouldn't hurt too much. She opened her eyes again, and what she saw made her blood run cold. The man was softly polishing a dully gleaming knife with an extreme serrated edge. He looked at her, and the smile on his face was one of contentment. Abigail let her bladder go, but she didn't even feel the warm urine soaking the seat and dripping down her soft thighs and long legs. She was simply paralyzed with terror. The man said something about relaxing, before he took one hand off the knife to grab her by her hair. He yanked her head back, exposing her pale, quivering throat. With a relaxed motion, he placed the tip of the knife on the left side of her neck, and pushed it in to the hilt. Abigail twitched. The man yanked the blade all the way around until it was stuck under her right ear, and then pulled it out with a flourish. Blood sprayed out of the humongous gash in Abigail's neck, the furthest spurt reaching the far wall, at least 7 feet away from the chair. He took a damp cloth, and wiped Abigail's blood off the blade, before gently placing it on its peg.

Abigail gurgled in panic, as blood flowed into her mouth like a fountain. Blood dripped from her nose, and poured out between her open mouth, splattering all over her crotch and thighs, while it streamed down her chest, crimson rivulets flowing down her breasts and slightly chubby stomach. Sucking sounds emanated from the slit in her neck, as she tried to breathe. Her heart slowly began to slow down, and her mind began to go blank. The last thing she saw as her body shut down was the man walk up to her with his erect penis, and the last thing she felt was hot cum spatter her face and chest. Grief, fear, and regret swirled through her dying mind, then nothing.