Author Topic: Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite  (Read 3300 times)

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Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite
« on: June 22, 2017, 02:22:06 PM »
Warning!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non consensual sex. If you do not like such stories, please turn back. I don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Anyone who commits rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right so long as no one is hurt.

— Fmf FMM horror pedo rape violent bi rough sad SNUFF —
Let Us Call Thee — EVIL
By Millie Dynamite

The mall was crowded that day. I suppose the unbearable heat and humidity of summer had a lot to do with the crowd. So many people, couples, singles, kids, teens they were shopping or just in the mall to get away from the heat. There seemed to be this mass of middle schoolers. At first, I wondered if it was a holiday, then realized it was June, the school wasn’t in session.

I watched one group intently, looking for something special. The age ranged in the group from nine to fourteen. A flock of wayward mall brats getting away from the heat, two of them caught my eye. One a boy and one a girl, the boy had shaggy, blonde hair, a pleasant smile, and a soft look. The older kids picked on him, calling him names. I say older, they were bigger, stronger, and far more aggressive than he. It took my brain a few moments to processes the scene. In a brilliant flash, I realized the boys were all 12 or 13, and he was just smaller.

“Girly Timmy,” one boy yelled out taunting him. The boys and girls pushed him, made fun of him, in an ernest effort to bring the child to tears. One particular, little girl was especially mean to the boy. That brings us to the other apple of my eye that day. The girl picking on the lad had also captured my fancy.

The child was 10 or 11 years old, medium length blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a tight small body. She wore a sleeveless blue t-shirt that was at least two sizes too big, and a pair of short, shorts at least as many sizes too small. They clung to her firm, round little bum like paint to a car body. The happy, animated girl moved around the group expressing herself with exaggerated movements of her arms. Her little buds and stiff ripe, pink nipples were often exposed as the shirt fell off her shoulder, or when she bent fell away exposing her young chest for all to see. As suddenly as she had begun to pick on Timmy her attention to turned to her girlfriends.

But the older boys, those strapping lads his age, continued their merciless bullying of the smallest of their group. I saw it, his eyes well up and finally the bastards broke him. He ran off in tears toward the bathrooms. I might say the right bathrooms. I had laid my plan earlier selecting certain restrooms with care. When Timmy ran down the hall toward them, I stood and meander toward the restrooms near the rear of the mall. They were near the storage area, the janitorial supply room, and the back exit to the dumpsters behind the mall. They were the least used of public conveniences in the mall. They also provided easy access to the back lot, the least used parking area of the busy shopping center.

As I approached the boy's room, I could hear him crying. Well before I got to the door the incoherent blubbering of child in distress greeted my ears…perfect…they would assume the little shit went home. I licked my lips with anticipation of pouncing on my prey.

Walking into the tiled, room, I looked around the empty chamber. The boy was near a stall, curled up on the floor his back pressed into the corner. His head was between his knees, his arms warped around his legs, and he wailed like a baby. I checked the room carefully, no feet of anyone sitting on a stool. I looked outside and made sure no one made their way our direction. Once I felt assured that cry baby Timmy and I were alone, I approached him. With caution, I moved toward him with stealth. Standing over I smiled and tapped his toe with mine, he looked up at me, he made an attempt to smile.

“What’s wrong kid?” kneeling, I looked at him, my best sympathetic expression plastered over my face.

“My friends make fun of me and picke on me,” he said, he had a look of confusion on his face.

“Why?” I asked, diverting his attention from what he perceived to be wrong. He looked at me wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Cause I small and call me sissy,” he told me, adding in a rush, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“Why not,” I asked him.

“My foster mommy say they hurt me,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed as pushed the Taser to his leg and pushed the button. He flopped on the floor like a fish on a hook. I kept the gun pressed to the muscle of his thigh as he bounced. When his eyelids shut, I released the trigger. His body convulsed for few more seconds. When he lay still, I put the Taser away, picked him up and moved to the door. Damn little shit couldn’t weigh more than eighty pounds, less than that I’m sure. Slinging him up over my shoulder I cautiously walked out of the bathroom. I did a rubbernecked around the hallway…the coast was clear…I moved quickly to the back door. Walking into the bright sunlight, it took my eyes time to adjust. Blinking to avoid the brightness, my eyes adjusted after a few seconds.

I moved to my black van, pulling the lever it opened, the automatic release triggered by the key in my pocket. I moved inside and opened the box on the right side. Laying the boy down inside, I put zip cuffs on him, secured them, closed, and locked the lid. I ran my hand over the beautiful mahogany wood. Looking to the other box, I touched textured rich oak. “You’ll have a guest soon,” I said.

There were fewer kids now, the bullies had moved on looking for their friend, or perhaps some other kid, to make their life miserable. It didn’t matter those boys didn’t appeal to me, not for what I had in mind for their friend. Only three of the girls remained, they sucked on soda’s and clucked to each other like chickens. My perfect little angle was the boss hen, she told the others this or that, and they cackled their approval. After emptying her soda, she dropped her cup to the floor next to the trash. Shrugging her shoulders, she grabbed a full soda cup from a girl with black hair. Putting the stolen drink to her mouth, she upended it drinking the full cup in a single extended gulp. She opened her mouth and let loose a loud, very unladylike, belch, they all laughed. She chugged the empty cup to the polished granite floor the ice spilling out over the girl with the black hair’s shoes.

“Clean that up Conny,” she barked the order. “And take care of mine as well.” Conny busied herself following her mistress’s instructions. The other girl gave a wicked grin to bossy bitch, and the blonde girl rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be back in few minutes’ ladies,” she said, then ordered them, “Go get our tickets to a matinee, and I’ll be along after I tinkle.”

“Can you give me your money for your ticket,” the mousy redhead asked.

“You buy it for me,” she said, moving to the girl standing toe to toe with her.

“Okay,” the girl said in a sheepish complaint tone.

“Teri, get me popcorn, a candy bar, another Coke and, umm, well a hot dog,” the blond barked out her command like a drill instructor.

“What about nacho’s,” the dark-haired girl asked.

“No,” she said turned started to move and then twisted back. “Yeah, a big nachos as well.” Turning from her crew, she skipped away toward the same restrooms. I followed behind, even more cautious. She bounded through the girl’s room door. Standing at the door, I looked around again, the cost was clear, so I followed. Good, there were no women in the room. I could see her feet under the door, her shorts and panties were around her ankles, her small, tennis shoe covered feet dangled just above the floor. I moved near the door, pulled the Taser from my pocket. I waited till hearing the stream of urine tinkle into the bowl.

With a hard, swift kick, I knocked the stall door open, shattering the lock. The girl screamed out, but I hit her in-between her small mounds of tit with the gun and pulled the trigger. She squirmed on the seat, the piss gushed into the toilet, as her eyes fluttered closed. I cleaned her little hairless cunt and pulled up her plain cotton panties and tight blue shorts. Hosted the 50-pound child like a sack of potatoes, thought better of it and cradled her in my arms. Walking out into the hall, the janitor looked at me and moved toward me.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asked.

“Yeah, she overdid it, fell fast asleep in the previews,” I told him, feeling myself moisten. “I’m taking her home. Would you mind opening the door back there? I parked in the boonies, and this is closer.”

“Sure,” he said, in his thick Spanish accent adding, “Pretty child, she looks just like you señora.” I thought what an idiot. Still, he could be trouble, in the future.

“Thanks,” I told him as I walked out into the sun. There was a beat up old 70’s Chevy Nova near the exit, I had noticed it on my previous sojourn to the parking lot.

“Oh, what a classic,” I said. “I wonder who owns her? My husband has always wanted a Nova.”

“She’s mine,” he said. “I’d let her go for $1500.”

“Well, I talk to him. But I’ll leave off your asking price, see, he might go a little higher. Hey, can you meet him tonight here at midnight?”

“Sure, I’ll wait for him after I get off work. I never get out of here before 11:30.”

“I’ll make sure he’ll be here before midnight. So, kind sir, you don’t have to wait long,” I told him.

“Alright, if you’re with him y’all take it tonight,” he told me eager to make the sale. “I live on a few blocks away.”

Wetbacks…always looking to make money. I could see his mouth watering at the prospect of selling his broken-down car for twice or three times its value. I found the perfect hook to get him alone that night.

“If I can’t get a hold of him, I’ll give you two thousand for it. I’ll make it cash okay? I’ll give you an envelope and can just mail us the title.”

“Well alright then,” he said in an excited voice as I walked away. After I had got a near the van I looked back, he was gone. I put the girl inside the second box and secured her, locking the lid. The boy pounded on the top from inside the box, crying, and begging to be let go.

Opening the cover, I slapped his face and glowered in at him. Putting my finger to my lips, I made the Ssshhh sound. Big tears rolled down his face. He rubbed his pint-sized red cheek and in a hushed voice said, “Sorry.” I smiled at him, closed the lid, secured it and knew he’d be great fun.

“Be silent child, or I’ll punish you,” I heard his sobs and felt good. I knew he was terrified. I felt my twat slickens as the moisture grew. I could smell it now, that sweet, salty, metallic fragrance of clean pussy filled my nostrils. I pushed the start on the van, the engine jumped to life. Putting the vehicle in gear, I drove out to the street.

Passing my place of employment, I saw cars gathering for the service scheduled that afternoon. I wasn’t working it, so it was good. I’d go to the secondary location and have my fun there. Soon the hot, asphalt gave way to gravel roads and the derelict buildings to thick forest. I turned in at the private road passed my grandparents now abandoned home. Pulling into the parking area, I backed up to the receiving doors. Unlocking the receiving doors, I pondered which one to take first. The girl had woken up and screamed at the top of her lungs. Okay, well then it would be her.

At this point, I feel it is important to explain something. You have no idea how difficult my life is. How hard it is to hide not only what I do but who I am. Being special, well extraordinary, is never easy. One’s life, when you are superior, is always difficult. People are always jealous of you. When you add in my proclivities, and the provincial view of society on people with my interest, well it is a burden to bear.

I opened the door of the van, pulled the box out, the wheels dropping onto the ground made a clattering sound. I pushed the girl, in her new little home, into the receiving area. I went back, getting in the van I told the boy to be patient, I come get him soon, and we would play. I talked to him for a few minutes through the wooden lid, he sobbed and told me, “Okay,” then added in a shaky voice, “it’s dark in here.”

“Sissy,” I snapped at him as I shut the van door. Returning to the play room, I unlocked the lid and opened, the girl jerked upright screaming. I smacked her face hard first one cheek with the palm of my hand, then I stung the other with the back of my hand. Grabbing her curly locks, I yanked her from the box. Dragging by her hair, with the little bitch stumbling, struggling to try and keep up, over to a stiff-backed seat I put her over my knee, pulled her shorts and panties down around her knees.

I hit her ass on one cheek with the palm of my hand, then the other. She howled, screaming her displeasure, big, crocodile tears fell from her eyes. I continued to smack her ass, rotating blows from one reddened ass cheek to the other.

“Stop screaming and shut up or I’ll really give you a paddling,” I told her. Pulling her head up I made her look at the big, flat paddle hanging on the wall. “Are you going to be a good little girl?” She nodded her head. Standing up, I dumped on her floor and walked to another area of the room.

“Come over here and watch this video,” turning on the TV I put the DVD into the player. I looked at as she pulled up her panties and pants. “No, no that won’t do, it will not do at all. Take them off, come over here, lay on the pallet and watch how lesbians fuck,” I told her. The look of shock on her face was so precious.

“What?” she said.

“You heard me,” I told her. She followed my instruction and pressed play, two women were entwined on a tiger skin rug doing sixty-nine. “Watch and learn, when I come back you must pleasure me, with your sweet lips, pretty pink tongue and your fingers. Or, I’ll fucking hurt you.”

“Why?” she asked me.

“I like hurting people,” I sneered at her, “especially snotty, mean, little bitches like you,” I left the room and locked her inside by herself. Turning on my display, I watched. She looked around every few minutes. Eventually, she put her hand between her legs.


“Do you mind if I smoke,” she asked the man across the table.

“No, it’s okay with me,” he said.

Leaning forward she dug out a cigarette, thumbed the lighter and lit up, drawing the smoke deep her into her lungs. Looking across the table her gaze fastened on the hook that held the chains, she smiled. The smoke streamed out of her nostrils as she leaned back her chair.

“Don’t worry Detective Landers, I won’t bite you,” she said. “I suppose you want to hear more.” He nodded to her. Her smile changed it turned sad, “One never knows what makes us the way we are. I was raised by my Uncle did you know that?” he shook his head. “I watched him rape several women, maybe it was his fault I turned out the way I did. He sure enjoyed hurting them bitches when he took them.”

She talked about her uncle’s predilection to hurt women for a few minutes then settled back into her confession.


I took my second prize to the other playroom. When I got the boy out the box, he blubbered about being sorry that he had been so much trouble. What a sweet boy, he would be so much fun. I held him to me. Softly I stroked his bushy, head of hair. I slid down him, pressing my ample breast into the child's face, I felt his wee, little pecker stiffen.

“OH, you like,” I said in a teasing way. Pulling away from him I unbuttoned my blouse and slid it off my shoulders. I then pulled his shirt over his head. I ran my hands over his small chest and scrawny arms. “The other boys are mean to my good boy aren’t they.” He nodded his head, the gooseflesh rose on his skin.

“Does my good boy want to suck on my titty?” I asked, squeezing my fat nipple. He dropped down to his knees and latched onto my left breast. I put my knee against his little shaft and rubbed around some. It spurted, soaking his jogging shorts. Pulling back, he hung his head, looking forlorn.

“I sorry,” he said in a timid voice.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” I told him. I pulled his shorts down, then his tidy-whities. The cock was still as hard as a pencil. Grabbing it rubbed it. “My what a big dick you have for a 12-year-old. I bet that’s three inches long.”

“Four,” he said with pride, holding up four fingers.

“It’s a hard, little fucker, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I gots a stiffy,” he said, childish like a he was only five or six. I began to realize he was as underdeveloped in his mind and emotions as his body.

“What’s the little bossy girl's name. You know the younger, blonde girl that everyone seems to think is the boss.” I asked him. I could see his mind working, he stuck his tongue out to one side and rolled his green eyes skyward.

“Liz, well no, she no like that, she like Elizabeth,” she said, blushing.

“Oh, you like her,” I said again teasing him.

“No, she means to me. Really, really means,” the boy said. “Call me dummy sissy boy,”

“Oh, that’s terrible of her,” I put mouth around his cock, and it spits a second load before I could even suck it. I sucked every drop out of him. “How would you like to stick this nice dick inside her sweet little spot?” He hung his head down, a tear ran from his eye as nodded.

“But she wouldn’t let me do that,” he said. “She’s a means girl.”

“Well, you’re going to do it anyway. She won’t have a choice,” I told him.

“She strong, she hurt me if I try,” he said still sobbing.

“No, you shall hurt her,” I assured him. “I’ll be mean to her while you stick her.”

“Really,” he said grinning with an evil smile. His small cock began to twitch, I rubbed it.

“Really,” I said. Standing I walked to the door to the other playroom. Follow me stay behind her until I tell you when to fuck her, Okie Dokie?”

He shook his head and followed me into the other room. He moved behind her, staring at her as he rubbed his full four inches, waiting, ready to rip into her. I walked in front of her, unzipped my skirt and let it fall. I sat down spreading legs.

“Well, show me what you learned,” she crawled between my legs and started to run her tongue around my clitty, she kissed, licked, ran her fingers in out of me. I nodded at him and put my hands on her shoulders, smiling at him, “Now honey fuck her pussy.”

Jumping between her legs, he rammed his little pecker into her as far it would go. She screamed when drove through the hymen. I held her face to my cootie, clutching tightly onto her blonde hair. He got into a nice, hard rhythm, pounding into her tiny twat a furious rage.

Try as she might the little whore couldn’t get away. I made her keep eating me, reaching under her I twisted her mounds, her nipples, showing no mercy. I braided her hair into my fingers, clutching so hard, I knew, with just a little more effort, the hair would rip from her head.

“Eat me bitch,” I said, she tongued me, imitating the things she watched. Desperately she tried to please me. Hoping, against logic and reason, that if she pleased me, I would make him stop.

“You fucking snob,” he said, “you are bitches. I fucking you bitches, do you feel it, do you like me fucking.” All the time she squirmed and tried to get away from him. He held on to her waist and just kept thrusting into her. His face strained, his body shook, as he dumped his load inside her.

“Now her asshole,” I told him. His pecker dripped cum when he pulled out, a thick rivulet hung from his cock head, reaching in a long arch dribbling a small amount down her ass. The cock still throbbed, and small amounts jumped out moving half way up her back. “Go on my sweet boy, just fuck her ass good and hard.”

He looked down at her brown eye, taking his hand he positioned the helmet at her sphincter. He pushed the head into the hole, his body lurched as he thrust inside her. With hard, swift lunges he shoved more and more into her. Elizabeth’s body jerked and swayed as he plunged in with an angry ferocity. He fucked her small ass with a pure, hateful, ferocity.

Soon, for the fourth time that day, he spat thick cum out of his cock. He lurched around, again making a face as he dumped, screaming at her, “Take that you bitches.” Sweat beaded on his body, he collapsed on top of the girl.

“I fucked her up mommy,” the boy blurted, “sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Oh,” I said, reaching my hand out I wiped the hair from his eyes. “Do you want me to be your mommy?”

“Auh,” he hesitated, looked down at Liz’s small round ass, small bleeding pussy, and his cum oozing out of her then turned his stare back to me, “Do I get to do more girls like this?”

“Oh, yes, many more girls,” I said, arching my eyebrows while still forcing Elizabeth to satisfy me.

“Yes, I want you to be my mommy. I never had a real mommy just a foster mom, and I hate her.”

“Well, that’s for another day,” I told him, “Right now, get me the odd-looking belt thing over on that table and the rubber thing next to it, the thing that looks like a big pee pee okay?”

Jumping up he ran over, picked up the items, he had the loveliest smile on his face as he held them up for me to see, “These things, mommy?”

“Yes, those sweetie, bring them here. Mommy wants to play like a boy and fuck Liz with them.”

Over the next two hours, I fucked her in every hole, while my sweet Timmy fucked her as well. When we got done with her, I let Timmy fuck her ass again as I wrapped my hands around her throat. With a slow, deliberate cruelty, I choked her. I’d bring her to with moments of death, her body would convulse in a wild dance as Timmy poked inside her. You can’t believe the intense orgasms she experienced as my sweet little boy fucked, and fucked her until, timing her demise with his orgasm, I choked the life from her body.

Once she was dead we loaded her into the furnace of my crematorium, we had a small service, just the two of us in attendance. Once her body turned to ash, and few bone fragments, I collected the remains, and we spread her over the fields surrounding my property.

Then fed my sweet boy and let him have a nap. It almost 9 and let him sleep for over an hour. I woke him, and I taught Timmy how to use a knife. He was a quick learner, I can’t tell how proud I was when at midnight he ran up to the spic janitor, yelling his lungs out, “I can’t find my mommy.” The dumb ass put his hand on the boy’s head trying to comfort him.

That when Timmy rammed the knife into his groin, two times, very hard. The Mexican screamed out and plummeted to the concrete clutching his groin. My sweet boy rushed him as the man tried to crawl away on his back. The child slashed down the man’s inner right leg. The blood gushed out of the man, he rolled over onto his belly. Crawling away screaming for help with his life’s blood surging out of the wounds wetting the pavement below him. Timmy jumped on his back jabbing the knife down into the bastards back. Timmy was so happy, he laughed with the joy of it all.


“You must understand his delight,” the woman told the man, leaning toward him. “All those fucking bullies were under him now. All those bastards were getting what they deserved. For the first time in his young life, he was the master. Each thrust of the knife, every slash on the greaser’s flesh was one of his tormentors.” The man recoiled from her, tried to move away, but his handcuffs held him pinned to the ring in the bolted down metal table.

Over the last few minutes, scream invaded the small room. He wondered what the hulking kid, Timmy, did to his partner to make him scream so. Then again, he didn’t want to know. He worried that all too soon he would know. The metal chair felt cold on is bare ass. The concert below his bare feet was hard, rough, and cold as well. The woman stood, her attractive naked body caused his cock to swell, he couldn’t help it her beauty had been his undoing.

Picking up the belt, she worked it on her hips adjusting it. The fake rubber cock hanging between her legs, dwarfed even the nineteen-year-old boy’s massive pecker, the lost child from so long ago, Timmy. The nasty taste, of the boy's cum, clung inside his mouth. He marbled how the lost child he sought five years ago, the runt kid Timmy, had grown to a muscled, giant of a man that fucked his face an hour early that day.

As she moved about the room, the massive cock bobbed and swayed. She kept playing with things, things that made his spirit fall, things that brought fear to his heart and mind. A scalpel, plyers, a blackjack, and then the hypodermic needle, what was that about, anyway.

Lieutenant Detective Jamison Rivers never had one moment of fear in his life. Not when the Tazer’s had disabled him and his partner. Not when we woke up with his hands cuffed and the cuffs locked to this damn interrogation table. Not when that hulking teen shoved his massive nine or ten-inch cock into his mouth. He knew he’d get free, he’d save Sam, his partner, and they would bring this bitch and that bastard kid Timmy to justice. He was comforted by the fact the two of them would spend the rest of their lives in prison. That they would both be someone’s bitch in jail.

Yeah, he had been fearless until she opened her mouth. Once she started telling him her story, his heart broke, his strength fails him, and fear, no not fear, horror clutched him. It wasn’t that he would die, it was all the things that she’d do to him before that.

Walking to him she grabbed his head, she smashed that big rubber cock into his mouth. She thrust her hips with such force, jerking his head to her at the same time, he had no choice, open wide or have every tooth knocked out in the process. So, he took it, a big fat fake pecker down his gullet. The boy's cock had been nothing.

She pushed way down, it stretched his throat, snotty spittle built in his mouth and throat, it clung to the monster when she pulled it out, dribbling down on his bare chest. For over an hour she fucked his mouth with a fury, making him look at her as she did.

The end happened as fast it begun. She just stopped and returned to the other side of the table. She picked up a small medical looking vile, stuck the needle into it and extracted its contents into the hypo. The woman tapped on the hypo, the air went to the top, she pushed on the plunger until a little fluid shot out of the needle. She picked up a rubber tourniquet. Again, she came to his side of the table.

Wrapping the tourniquet around his right arm just above the elbow she tightened it, slapping his forearm several times she smiled. She rubbed his head and showed him the hypo. The woman sat on the table.

“Nice veins,” she told him. Without ceremony or warning, she jabbed the needle into a vein, pushed the plunger, a cold fluid rushed into his arm. It warmed and then burned. She pulled the needle out, placing a band-aid over the injection site. When she yanked the tourniquet free, his arm felt like fire shot through it, the stuff rushed through him. In seconds, he felt lighter, like his body would float away from the chair.

“Sweet dreams, and when you wake, the horror begins.”

“What’s going to happen to me,” he asked as Timmy entered through a door. To Jamison, the boy seemed to float into the room.

“He ready you hurt now?” Timmy asked in his still childlike voice.

“Same thing that happens to every living thing,” she said as she turned to Jamison. “Eventually you’ll die.” He saw her pick up the scalpel as the darkness covered him. “I’m so ready for this sweaty, bring the plyers.”


The world slowly reappeared, he saw only what was in front of his face, a gray, cold, concrete. Its roughness hurt his chest and belly. His arms ached, they were held high above his head, his toes could only just touch the cold floor below him. It took time for him to comprehend. A slow realization crawled up his brain, he was hanging by his wrist against the wall.

Turning his head to the side, he saw Sam also hanging. Blood oozed out of Sam’s rectum running down his legs, something didn’t look right. Wait Sam’s a negro, the skin doesn’t look the right color. Jamison let out a long, low hiss, no fucking skin not one inch of flesh on his body. From the base of his neck down Sam had bare muscle with nothing covering it.

The muscles were damaged, ribs broken, one rib protruded from flesh. Bones were broken in his legs and arms as well. Sam’s face was bloated, swollen from the beatings. One eye was shut, the flesh so bruised and enflamed he couldn’t open it. Blood was everywhere on the wall in front of him. The floor under him was covered in a thick, coagulated layer of blood.

Sam turned, gazed at Jameson, and grumbled out something, unintelligible. His raw voice didn’t seem to make intelligible words just a grunting, croaking. “Kill me, please kill me,” he begged in a raspy voice raw from the screaming. Sam’s eyes grew wild, and he thrashed around trying to move. He saw something, what did he see Jamison wondered.

He felt it, that massive rubber head at his ass. “Oh,” Jamison said, “He sees you.” Then he saw Timmy standing behind his partner, a big knife in his hand.

“Not yet, sweetie, let him see me fuck up his partner,” with that she thrust her hips, time after time, driving that massive pecker deep in his ass. That’s when he felt it, a sharp pain that slowly moved from just under his arm, up to his shoulder, across his back then down the other side. He heard a clang and looked down at the bloody scalpel near his toes. She cut him, from the one hand to the other. WHY?

That’s when he felt it, the flesh, oh god, she was skinning him. Pulling a little here with each thrust into his she pulled down on the right side, with each jerk out she pulled down on the left side.

No, Jamison Rivers knew fear, terror or whatever you want to call it. With each inch of flesh pulled from the meat of his body, he knew fear and pain. With every thrust into his ass, he knew shame and humiliation. This powerful, murderous, vengeful, bitch from hell taught him FEAR, and that is how he died, in fear, in pain, humiliated by a woman he had never even suspected. His mistake came when he asked her simple question.

“What I’m trying to ask is this, do you think anyone could have used the crematorium with your knowledge.” She took it as a threat that he knew something. The thing was, no one knew anything. They didn’t know the kids were dead, they didn’t know they were fertilizer for her lawn and then didn’t have a clue that the mortician’s niece was a serial killer.

“There is no worse evil than a bad woman,” Euripides.
« Last Edit: June 22, 2017, 02:40:09 PM by 90lbsofdynamite »
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Offline SoftGameHunter

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Re: Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite
« Reply #1 on: June 22, 2017, 05:40:56 PM »
Well that one sure went into the right board. It wasn't all wank material, but it was a fine horror story nonetheless.
The rumors about me are scurrilous, depraved rantings of a sick mind, and I categorically deny any sense of falsehood attributed to them.

Offline 90lbsofdynamite

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Re: Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite
« Reply #2 on: June 22, 2017, 05:50:51 PM »
I didn't intend it as wanking material, it's my anger showing I guess. This is the bitch I wish I could be sometimes, only with men not kids!!! LOL
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Offline SoftGameHunter

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Re: Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite
« Reply #3 on: June 22, 2017, 08:01:35 PM »
I didn't intend it as wanking material, it's my anger showing I guess. This is the bitch I wish I could be sometimes, only with men not kids!!! LOL

(Backs slowly away.)  ;)
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Offline grendel

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Re: Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite
« Reply #4 on: June 25, 2017, 04:00:46 AM »
lol nice ... and sadly there are enough guys around who deserve that kind of treatment
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Offline 90lbsofdynamite

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Re: Let Us Call Thee — EVIL By Millie Dynamite
« Reply #5 on: July 01, 2017, 10:03:52 AM »
Grendel, not to worry she's keep her eye's peeled for new flesh to flay. :)
Just 90 lbs of Dynamite Big Bada Boom!!