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From: Alocer Loki <alocer_loki@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Angels Scream chapter 12 (of 12) (M/g, pedo, rape, tort, snuff)
Date: Thu, 9 Oct 2003 04:10:41 -0400
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The final chapter after such a long writing time it is almost
unbelievable. I don't intend on posting the full story again, although
I will do if people want it. It would be easier for me, and probably
you, to get it from my website anyhow (www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/AlocerLoki/www).
I hope you enjoy,
Alocer Loki
<1st attachment, "angelsScream.12.txt" begin>
Angels Scream, Chapter 12
Alocer Loki 2003
Story Codes: M/g, pedo, rape, tort, snuff
Disclaimer:
This story is not for everyone, and may, and almost certainly
will, contain some quite graphical depictions of children in
extreme sexual situations.
These may include, but are not limited to, rape, sexual
torture and brutal murder. If any of these subject matters
offends you, or if you are under the legal age for such
materal in your current location then don't read it.
All people, places and events depicted herein are purely
fictional. I, the author, do not condone any such actions.
Now, if you got past that I am going to assume that you, like
me, are a 'sick fuck' who gets off on the rape, torture and
murder of pre-teens. If not, then what the fuck are you doing
reading this?
If you wish to contact me, the author, I can be reached
directly at:alocer_loki@yahoo.com
Thank you, enjoy the story.
Alocer Loki
Authors Note: For those of you who have been following the series,
'Angels Scream' has finally come to a conclusion, which is presented
here. Please note the snuff code. Anyone who has followed the series
won't have to guess too hard to figure out who dies. If you don't want
to read that don't read this part.
Thank you all for your support!
Chapter 12
A bathos silence encompassed everyone in the room. It was as if nobody
dared make a sound, not even to breath. Even poor young Amy was
silent. Although I could feel her breathing, I couldn't hear it. It
occurred to me that my pulse, pounding in my ears, was the reason I
couldn't hear anything. Amy's face was pressed into my chest. I could
feel her hot breath brushing over my belly. I held the child in a
crushing embrace. I couldn't help but think that I was hurting
her. Amy, however, didn't seem to mind. She never made a sound as she
squeezed against.
Frank lay flat on the concrete floor. The large man had his eyes
closed. A look of fathomless brooding lay on his exhausted features.
Elaine lay sprawled out next to her husband. Her lifeless body cooled
in a vulgar position left from how Frank had fucked her: her legs
splayed wide. Her head twisted towards the left at an angle that was
sickening even to look at. The warm yellow light from the bulb above
my head glittered red on the chain embedded in my former lover's neck.
Then there was Sarah. Yet another victim of my cruel games. I realised
that I should be ashamed of myself. Why didn't I feel that way? I
shook my head and concentrated on the battered little girl. She was
sat in her corner again. I don't know when she had slipped away to
hide behind the big wooden crates She sat now with her hands wrapped
around her knees. There were no tears. She just rocked back and forth
in silence.
Finally, there was myself. I didn't quite know what to think. The
smell of sweat, urine and now Elaine's shit, released during the time
Frank had been playing the necrophiliac, filled the room. I felt
nauseous from it. Sick even, I was utterly terrified at myself. It is
a strange feeling, to realise that one is a monster. Nevertheless,
Even that wasn't enough to make me want to leave.
The deviance of it was that, in other ways, that same realisation was
utterly invigorating. Revolting, for sure, but perverse in nature; I
couldn't help but feel it. Or maybe it was just Amy's trembling body
pressed against me. That was all it ever was about. Amy. I couldn't
quite comprehend how everything had gotten out of hand and had come
to... This!
I could remember her though. The sweet innocent little thing I'd
picked up in the forest. The child who had trusted me, the bad man of
the village, simply because I was her 'Uncle Ian', and she remembered
that I was nice. Why did she still love me? That question haunted
me. I'm not sure why, but it seemed that things would have been easier
if, like Elaine and Sarah, she could hate me. It occurred to me that,
it would have been easier for me to do this if she hated me.
There was nothing but love and utmost devotion that flowed from Amy. I
felt a moment of regret that I couldn't keep her. However, after what
we had done. That wasn't really an option. Time cut my losses. Grinned
at the pun, and the scowled at myself. To be honest, I felt like a
lost little boy.
I eased up the pressure of my hug. Amy whimpered. "Mummy," she
breathed.
She tried to squeeze herself against me, but she just didn't have the
strength in her tiny body to simulate what I'd been doing. It occurred
to me that, of all the things I had done, the most cruel would be to
deny her comfort now.
I took hold of her hips and pried the child away from me. Her small
arms kept hold of my body until the last moment where she broke
free. My tiny, sweet little slut looked at me with her big blue
eyes. I could feel her trembling. She looked like a terrified
puppy. What was wrong with me that those big eyes and pitiful
expression had the opposite effect then intended? Why didn't it bring
out the nurturing nature in me? Why did I want to kill her for it?
I studied her face. It was the one place on her body I had hardly
touched. There was a bruise on her left cheek, it was a big bruise and
obviously quite painful. I wondered, for a moment, just how many times
I had it her there.
I settled Amy back down on the floor, and watched as the tiny form
shuffled around to look at her Mummy. She bit her lip. "Mummy is
asleep?" she asked, although I could hear in her voice that she knew
it was much more serious.
"No baby," I said.
"She's in heaven." she stated. "Just like Boris."
Boris? It took me a moment to place the name. When I did I couldn't
help but smile. Boris. I gave her that puppy for Christmas, just
before her mother and I had broken up. Boris was dead? "What happened
to Boris?" I asked.
"He went to heaven," whispered Amy.
I laughed. I couldn't help myself. Not a outright, or even obvious
laugh, but a quiet giggle. "Why did he go to heaven honey?" I asked.
"Is Mummy in heaven now? Is she taking care of Boris? He's been all
alone," she asked.
What could I say? I moved up behind the little girl and put my hands
on her shoulders. I pulled her back into me and put my hands on her
chest. "Yes baby," I said. "Mummy is taking care of Boris in heaven
now." Then I kissed her on the top of the head.
Amy nodded. She settled her head back against my belly and I heard her
sigh. I gazed down at Am, at the small curve of her belly under head,
and her long sexy legs stretching out to the floor.
It seemed to me that there was hardly an inch that I'd not marked or
bruised. The child looked like finger painting. Red, blue, brown,
green, yellow and black smeared themselves across her tiny body. How
much abuse could one five-year-old child take? How much abuse should
she take?
My cock seemed to have its own answer. It raised itself, brushing
against Amy's back. I could feel the fine hairs on the child's
skin. Amy pulled herslef up and turned around to see. She watched
intently as I got stiff. I gazed on her in silence as she reached out
with one of her dainty little hands to grip me.
Her hand was so small that her grip didn't quite encompass the entire
diameter of my cock. Indeed it looked massive against her. Amy lifted
it up and gazed at my balls hanging beneith. I gasped as she moved her
other hand up to touch them. She looked up at me. "Please may I suck
you Uncle Ian?" she asked.
I moaned, "Yes baby."
Amy let go of my cock, and her hand joined the other one playing with
my balls. The five-year-old opened her mouth wide and took the head
into her sweet young mouth.
No sooner had she started to suck, did tears flow into Amy's eyes. The
child squeezed them shut and the two drops of water fell down her
cheek, but were followed by no more. However, her mouth sucked down
hard on my penis. One of her small hands left my balls and I watched
as it disappear between her legs. I remembered her saying that it
didn't hurt if she was being licked or rubbed. My guess was that she
was trying to make the hurt of watching her Mummy killed go away. Why
she wanted to suck my cock, however, was a mystery.
I let her do it. Even I wasn't mean enough to stop her now. Time
drifted past slowly. Her mouth was sublime on my sore and over-used
cock. Her moans became more desperate as she masturbated. I was sure
she now knew exactly where her clitoris was, and that she was rubbing
on it hard.
Amy started to tremble and then her legs gave way and she slipped from
my cock into a ball at my feet. I watched her body convulse and
listened to her screams and moans of utter pleasure.
I continued to watch in silence as she calmed down. Her legs stopped
shaking and her shoulders started. Amy curled into a little ball and
burst into tears.
My eyes swept over the trembling, grief stricken child. Her grizzled
crying was now the only sound in the room. My gaze drifted down the
mass of bruise on her back to her soft round bottom. Her fat little
arse was much like the rest of her body, maybe more so, a blue-yellow
contusion. Little blisters and red cuts littered the surface. I could
barely remember the little white perfect arse that I had whipped and
fucked only days before.
I turned my head towards the stairs and spotted the stick I'd first
used to cane her with. A long flat flexible strip of pine. "Amy," I
said.
The little girl gasped and pulled her head up to look at me. Her
pretty face was all crumpled and red and her lips turned down and open
with the grizzles. "Come and give Uncle Ian a cuddle," I said.
Amy took in several deep breaths through her mouth and stood up, she
waddled over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. She looked up
at my face. I could see the pain -- emotional pain -- that had now
entered the child's big blue eyes.
I reached up with my hand and wiped the child's nose. I smiled at
her. "There is a stick by the stairs," I said.
The child's grip tightened. I could feel her shaking but she said
nothing. "I need to hurt you again," I said.
"Why?" moaned the teary little girl.
"Because," I answered.
"Why?" Amy persisted.
"Go and get me the stick," I said.
"But..."
I struck the little girl across the face with palm of my hand. I hit
the big bruise almost spot on and the way that her eyes went wide
before she smothered herself into my stomach told he just how much
that had hurt."You still can't do as you are told," I said. "I need to
hurt you."
The child pushed her face hard into my belly and sobbed like a baby. I
could feel her warm tears, and hot breath stroke on my skin. "Go and
get the stick," I said again.
This time Amy tore herself from her embrace. She looked up at me with
those big puppy-dog eyes and bit down on her top lip. She turned her
head across to the stairs. I heard a low mewl come from the little
girl as she saw what I intended to hit her with. My little angel
padded across the room and stared down at the stick. She paused for a
moment and then turned back to me. She was begging me, without making
a single sound. I smiled at her. "Hurry baby," I said.
The little girl made another sound in the back of her throat and
turned back to the wicked cane. She bent over, giving me a lovely
sight of her puckered little arsehole -- even that was a purply
colour. She grabbed onto the sick by the middle and quickly ran back
to me.
She stood very close to me and lifted the stick up. "Please Uncle
Ian. I wanna go bed," wept the child.
I smiled at the hapless little girl. "Soon honey," I said. "You can
rest lots soon."
Amy nodded. Her hands joined together under her belly and she shifted
about nervously. Sniffing back her tears she looked back up to
me. "Please!" she tried again.
I swung the stick about, causing it to make swooshing noises. I
enjoyed watching how the baby girl flinched at that sound. I ran my
tongue across my lips; it was all I could do not to drool.
"Turn around honey, bend over," I told her.
The little girl put her hands over her eyes before she turned back to
face her dead mother and Frank. The obedient child bent over, poking
her plump bottom out at me.
I swooshed the stick about again and watched with glee at how her
little bum quivered. I brought the cane around and smacked it hard
across the child's plump backside. Amy howled and stumbled forward
several steps. I lashed out again before the little child had even
stopped moving. Amy squealed loudly. I hit her again, and again,
lashing at her loverly little bottom.
Amy's legs gave way and she stumbled forward, landed in a heap beside
her mother. I didn't stop hitting her. I simply moved my focal point
from her arse to her legs, and whacked down the length of them. Amy
screamed and grizzled. With each blow the child tried to curl herself
into a smaller ball.
I found the whole act oddly frustrating. I kept hitting out harder and
harder. Trying to find a better place. Whipping the poor screaming and
exhausted baby girl. Trying to make her produce a better scream.
Amy kicked out her left leg. It looked like an involuntary
reaction. It flailed around as if trying to evade my blows as I played
with whipping at it. As it danced about I caught little glimpses of my
baby's fat little pussy. Almost out of pure instinct I tried to hit
it.
I struck many times across the tops of her legs and inside of her
thighs, but I just couldn't seem to get good contact. Out of my
frustration I reached down and grabbed hold of the child's ankle.
Amy squealed as I dragged her across the floor towards me. Her tiny
body twisted as I lifted her off of the ground until most of her
weight was supported by her shoulders. She made no attempt to produce
a cohesive sound. The little girl just sobbed and cried and
screamed. Her free leg hung almost limp to the side. It made such a
perfect target out of her pretty little pussy.
I struck it hard with the stick. I listened to the magnificent squeal
that left her lungs,and watched as her exhausted little legs try to
push themselves together. The moment her thighs parted I stuck her
cunt again. I revelled in her cries. I took every opportunity I got to
whack her lovely young cunt.
However, my arm quickly grew tied and eventually I was forced to drop
the screaming child. Amy curled back up into a ball and stayed like
that. Crying her sweet little eyes out.
I sighed. I knew I was just dragging this out. I was tormenting the
child just to prolong what was about to happen. I just couldn't do
that any more. For some reason the will to see her screaming had
drained for me. It was for me to give her this one mercy.
I turned my back on the broken and crying child and walked across the
room to one of the plastic carrier-bags Frank and I had brought. I
reached inside and clasped on the black plastic handle. My hand
trembled as I drew the knife from the bag.
The five inch long blade curved upward slightly. The stainless steel
lustre cast light into my eyes. I turned the blade over in my hand and
gazed at the keen edge. Taking a deep breath I looked back across at
Amy. The tiny little girl was still crying. She was utterly oblivious.
I closed my mouth and took a deep, nervous breath. Butterflies swarmed
in my stomach as I took the steps towards Amy. My legs felt like they
were made of lead. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. My mouth
watered. My breathing came in short gasps.
I was doing it. I was actually doing it.
My hand trembled as I sat the knife on the box and crouched down to
little Amy. The five-year-old girl flinched as I placed my hand on
her shoulder. I pulled across, rolling her onto her back.
Amy unravelled herself and led flat. The scared child gazed up at
me. I could hardly see any white beneath the bloodshot surface of her
pretty eyes. She breathed in short gasping breaths. I noticed that she
was giving me an odd look.
"I am going to fuck you," I said. My voice came out in a croak. I
could barely breath, let alone talk.
Amy didn't say a word but her legs parted and I could see her sore red
little pussy. The beating I'd given her really must have hurt.
I got to my knees beside my little fuck angel. I grinned at her and
stroked her hair from her eyes. "I love you," I said. "No more hurting now."
Amy gasped. "Don't fuck me," she whispered. "Please, it hurts."
"Shhh," I whispered and leant down to kiss her forehead.
I shifted my body and placed a knee on either side of the tiny
child. I could see her trembling. I placed my hand on her belly and
smiled. "It'll be okay," I said. "I'll go slow."
Amy squeezed her eyes shut.
I took my cock in my hand and pushed it down to rub against my pretty
little girl's torn pussy. Amy opened her small mouth and gave a series
of short gasps. She looked like she was in agony, and I'd not even
tried to push in yet.
"Be brave honey," I told her.
The blood was rushing through my veins and I was dizzy with excitement
and anticipation. I started to push at my baby slave's little
pussy. "Ow ow ow!" cried Amy.
I stroked my free hand across Amy's sweat-soaked forehead and kept
pushing. "That's a good girl. Just a little more."
"Mmmmmmmm."
My cock slipped inside of her, and I pushed it deep into the child's
immature womb. Amy opened her eyes and sucked in tiny little
breaths. She wriggled her hips but found herself pinned down by my
cock.
I led there with the tiny child pressed beneath my girth. Her supple
young body shuddering against me. "Close your eyes baby," I whispered.
Amy squeezed her little peepers shut and braced her little body. I
knew she was waiting for me to start fucking. "Keep them shut," I told
her.
I eased myself deeper into the child's little cunt. Then slowly drew
it out a few inches, then back in. I was going as slow and gentle into
the torn pussy as I could. It was quivering against me.
I kept my gradual and slow fuck going. I was very gentle with the
child I had, up until now, simply brutalised. Not that this fuck
wasn't extremely painful on the little thing. When I looked down to
where her head rested under my chest I could see the tears streaming
around her bright red face.
As I reached up my heart started to thump so hard I could have sworn
it was audible. My hand felt about the box and my finger slipped
against the blade. I gasped as the sharp instrument opened a shallow
gash in my finger. I followed the blade down to the plastic handle and
took hold of the grip.
I put the knife into my other hand and looked at the small cut. It
wasn't at all serious, but the blood was already running down my
finger. "Keep your eyes closed," I warned Amy.
I knelt up a little, keeping my cock embedded inside the child's
uterus. I looked down at my lovely girls sexy little face. I put my
hand down and turned my finger towards her and watched as my blood
dripped off onto her screwed-up features. As my blood dripped over her
pretty nose the child turned her head away but I followed it. The
blood didn't last long but it made several pretty red drops across
Amy's face.
The little girl, keeping her eyes closed, reached up to her face wiped
it. Smearing my blood in long streaked across her nose, mouth and
cheeks. As the blood stopped dripping from my finger I turned my
attention back to my other hand. I was surprised to see my knuckles as
white as ghost. My fingers ached from the grip I had on the blade. I
took in a deep breath that seemed to take forever. I looked down at my
little girl as she lay there, squirming beneath me.
I thrust the knife into her side.
Amy's eyes snapped opened and she looked at me. The knife sunk into
her belly slicing under her ribs. Her little body started to convulse
and shake. She coughed and blood splattered out onto her chin. She
took in a deep, deep breath and coughed more blood.
I rolled off of the girl, pulling my cock from her body and shifted
myself down until my head was level with hers. I stared into her wide
blue eyes. The baby girl sucked in tiny little breaths through her
bloody mouth. "Uncle Ian," I heard her say in a tiny, tiny voice.
I kissed the five-year-old girl on the forehead. "I love you Amy," I
whispered.
Her breathing stopped.
Completed: 08/10/2003
In its entirety this story took two years for me to write. It is
actually a very good example of how my writing evolved in that
time. Thank you to everybody who showed their support and interest
during the writing of this story.
Also, let me say sorry to those of you who campaigned for Amy's
life. The mix of emotions the plight of this character has brought
from my readers has touched me.
Alocer Loki
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