Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The following story is a purely fictional account.  Any relationship to any
real person living or dead is absolutely coincidental.  The narrative deals
with torture and slaughter of innocent human beings.  The author in no way
condones or promotes such acts.  This is the world of fantasy and fiction
where the hidden corners of the psyche may be explored.  The author
believes that exploring such subject matter in this realm keeps it from
ever needing to be explored, and much less fulfilled, in real life.  There
is violence in all of us.  Otherwise there would be no crime, no war, no
destruction.  We must acknowledge the beast inside of us if we are to tame
it.  To ignore it and repress it is to invoke its appearance in our midst.
   The Kill
   When the Beast emerged there was nothing left of compassion or humanity.
   Its single-minded pursuit of womanblood and suffering was absolute.
   Now that the young girl hung by her bound wrists from the chain hooked
to the ceiling beam, hung there so utterly helpless, crying, her blonde
hair all disheveled, her naked body waiting for him, ankles tightly
rope-bound, the Beast had been summoned, and the man, Antonio, had taken
his leave.
   And yet Antonio and the Beast were one and the same.  It was both of
them together that acted with such decisive destructiveness, kidnapping the
victim off the dark street just one block from the college sorority house
where she was headed, forcing her into the back seat of the Buick at
knife-point, gagging her with a thick towel, handcuffing her wrists behind
her, putting a black hood on her and telling her to shut the fuck up or
die. Both he and the Beast together had forced the young student down into
the floor of the car watching her short black dress ride way up her thighs,
seeing the tiny blue tattoo, an abstract flower, on one ankle, one
high-heel clog slipping off her delicate foot, the toes painted bright
bright red.  Then they had taken the long drive through the cool night,
travelling on the two-lane blacktop and then the abandoned dirt road that
led to the abandoned cabin at the edge of the swamp, their hapless victim
whimpering in terror as the Buick's engine cut out and the night- quiet of
cricket-song hovered in the air.
   Antonio had dragged her out of the car, put a leash around her neck
leaving the hood on her and pulled her after him to the ramshackle
building. She staggered and whimpered as she followed blindly, hands still
cuffed behind her, almost losing her balance as her other shoe slipped off
and she walked barefoot on the hard gravel path.
   Inside the cabin he pulled the hood off and ungagged her.  After all,
there was no need to fear anyone hearing her screams out here.
   She looked around confused and disoriented.  "Please," she begged,
looking up at her captor.  "Let me go!"
   ...Yeah...The girl looked at Him and saw the man...  but it was the
Beast who looked back.
   "You're dead meat, fuckface," the Beast told her in a low mean growl. 
"Dead fucking meat."
   Then he slapped her viciously across the face drawing a sharp cry from
her, half- turning her as his hands both reached out to grab her flimsy
dress and rip it off her.
   She screamed deliciously and cowered from him and with a savage grin on
his face he went at her punching the half-nude young woman's belly and
chest forcing her back against the wall as he worked her over.  He was a
big and powerful man and his blows took some of the fight from her and she
gasped for air as he ripped her bra and panties off, leaving her naked,
renewing his assault upon her now, driving steel-hard fists into soft
pliant girl-meat with deliberate gusto.
   When she slipped down to her knees he reached down and unlocked the
handcuffs. Then seizing her arms he'd hauled her up on her feet and slipped
her wrists into the leather manacles over head.  She'd looked up at her
hands as he closed the old hard leather hard around her wrists, her eyes
tearing up.
   "...please..." she muttered softly.  "...please....please...please..."
   Then he'd rope-bound her ankles tightly, she now forced to stand on her
toes, and he'd stepped back to admire his captive.
   She was luscious, in her early twenties, blonde, slender but
big-breasted, about five-foot eight.  Her legs, taut and stretched were
smoothly perfect, all the way down to the slim ankles and red-painted toes.
Her tits were firm and full, jutting out in front of her as she looked back
at him pleadingly, her lovely blue eyes spilling tears.
   "...let me go..." she whimpered.  The sound of her voice made his
already erect cock surge.
   Slowly he stripped naked as she watched Him...Once naked He was
completely the Beast and He jerked off as he walked around her, the old
floorboards of the cabin creaking noisily under His weight.  Antonio the
man wanted to fuck the little blonde, wanted to jam his big cock up her
cunt and then her asshole and then down her throat...looking down into that
pretty little crying face, holding her head by the leather leash, while she
sucked him...But the Beast wanted something more terrible.
   The girl watched in horror as the man who had abducted and captured her
now reached up and took the long metal object from the hooks on the old
cabin wall.  It was a long silver sword, carried long ago by some soldier
in the Civil War.  Ornamental filligree was carved out on the blade and a
moldy yellowish cloth with frayed strips dangled off the handle.
   The Beast came around on the creaking floor and stood before His victim
to touch the tip of the sword to her chest between her exquisitely-shaped
tits.
   "You will call me Master, slut," he said softly.
   She nodded, choking back a sob.
   "I am going to kill you," he told her.
   She began to cry.
   "No, please, no," she pleaded.
   "No - what - pig?" he snarled pressing the tip of the sword into her
firm creamy skin.
   Her eyes opened wide at the sensation of the cold blade pressing into
her.
   "...m-master...n-no, master..." she gasped, looking up into his dead
eyes like a pupil unsure of the teacher's question.
   "Yes, bitch, yes." he replied.  His eyes held hers.
   "You don't remember me, do you, cunt?" Antonio asked, a strange sneer on
his lips.
   She looked up at him quivering with terror.  He was tall, almost
six-foot four.  The tip of the sword had already cut her and she could feel
a tiny blood drop oozing down her chest toward her belly button.
   "N-no, master..."
   "Of course not," he growled.  "Pretty little pigs like you look right
through us...the men who clean your toilets and wash your dishes and mop
your floors.  We are nothing to you...just dirt under your expensive little
shoes."
   He continued to stare into her eyes until he saw the flicker of memory
there.
   She remembered those same dark intense eyes fixed on her as she walked
across the campus a couple of days before...  the man pushing the buzzing
lawnmower watching her as she strode toward Ashley Hall.
   "You remember now, don't you...?" he asked
   His eyes were hungry and savage, primitive, law-less, predatorial.
   She remembered how for an istant something inside her had felt
victorious to be able to parade herself in her tight jean shorts and white
high-heel sandals and sleeveless blue blouse in front of those eyes,
knowing that a man like him would never have a right to posess her....only
for a fleeting instant she'd felt the power of seduction, the heady power
of being wealthy and priviliged, young and beautiful.
   "Y-yes, m-master..." she answered.
   Now she had no power.  Now she was His.
   "You little piece of shit whore," he snarled.
   She saw the sword fly up, glint in the dirty glow of the one overhead
bulb that lit the cabin, as he drew back and struck...  The blade whanged
across one of her tits slicing off her nipple.  The nub of flesh smacked
against one wall and bounced across the floorboards.
   She threw her head back and shrieked and as she did he yelled
victoriously and struck again slicing off half of her other breast which
glopped to the floor, her blood spattering his face and chest and spilling
down her belly and thighs.
   While she shrieked in mindless agony he strode around her and whipped
her viciously with his weapon...slash, slash, slash...  putting the blade
deep into her tender skin.  He drew long cuts and gashes across her thighs
and flanks, into her shoulders...The bloody blade thumped into her back,
across her spine and with special vehemence into the fleshy firmness of her
asscheeks.  He slashed at her shins and knees and it wasn't long before the
young screaming woman was covered with bleeding cuts.  Her blood speckled
the old cabin walls and floor as she twisted around and spun on her toes
trying to escape the inescapable destruction of her beautiful body.  He
struck harder and sent the sword deeper.  He hacked pieces of flesh right
off her and the smell of sweat and blood was joined by the sharp scent of
urine as she pissed herself.
   Then he reached out to stop her from spinning around, seizing her arm,
and with stern deliberateness drove the sword into her lower belly.  It
went in about an inch.
   "UUggGGHH!" she grunted her eyes staring sightlessly upward.
   He pushed the blade deeper with some effort.  Pushed and pushed until
finally it went completely through her gut-bag, the sword-tip emerging at
the base of her spine.
   He pulled the sword out of his victim and then drove it in again, below
the first bloody wound, deep into her uterus drawing a wild frenzied shriek
from her.  Again he drove it through and again he yanked it out.
   Repeatedly he gouged into the young woman's belly with the sword as he
jerked off, his eyes cold and hard, his face completely expresionless.
   Antonio belonged to the Beast now and could only watch the passionate
slaughter of the blonde student.
   When the woman's cries were only pitiful whimpers, when her life energy
had begun to wane, and her colorful insides were alread spilling out of the
countless wounds in her belly he reached up and released her from the
overhead manacles.
   She toppled to the floor.
   He crouched over her as she lay writhing weakly, half-dead, and he
untied the rope around her ankles.  Then, lifting her slashed bleeding legs
apart and kneeling between them, he put his huge brown cock to her bleeding
cunt and slid into her, raping the dying girl.
   He sheathed and unsheathed his cock in her tight pussy, lubricated with
blood and piss, grunting like an ape as his hips pumped.  He held her legs
high by her ankles angling her ruptured abdomen up and facilitating the
penetration.
   She groaned and tried to say something.  Blood oozed from her lips.  Her
eyes looked up at her Master meekly.
   He flipped her over on her belly, put his prick up to her tiny puckered
anus and shoved himself into her, his cock splitting her gashed asscheeks
apart.  He slammed down on her, lying on top of her, her guts squishing out
of her as she groaned feebly, he reaching down to take a handful of
intestines, yanking them out of her.  Shit and blood puddled beneath her.
   He fucked her brutally up the ass until she no longer responded in any
way then he pulled his cock out of her and flipped her over on her back
again.
   Life still flickered in her pretty blue eyes.
   He stood over her, her head between his feet, his feet on her blonde
mane trapping her against the floor.  He looked down on her as he now
crouched on to her face, sat on it, sat on her pretty face, pressing his
balls and asshole down into her lips and nose, jerking off with one hand,
the sword in the other hand.
   He heard her struggle to breathe, watched her pretty hands open
reflexively, fingers reaching, arms flung wide as if to receive this final
punishment, her wrists scratched and torn from the leather manacles, her
legs too, wide open, her abdomen spilling blood and bloody innards as the
boards creaked, he on his toes pushing his asshole down against her nose,
rubbing it up and down the bridge of her nose and her soft soft lips, her
breath weaker, fainter, warm and moist against his scrotum.
   He was hard and full, ready to burst.  Stroke, stroke, stroke.  His
breath fast.
   ...The Beast was raising the sword.
   __What a sweet sweet kill, Antonio...that's the way to do it, my man. 
Sit on her and own the bitch.  Own her and kill her.  Cut the life out of
her.  Asphyxiate her under your balls!
   He put the sword tip to her gashed chest just above her heart.
   __Time for the Kill, Antonio....send the bitch to hell!!
   ...He thrust the sword down into her just as his cock erupted, heard
himself shout and grunt in pleasure, felt the dizzying impact of the
orgasm, his balls tingling as he sent the blade right through her heart and
into the wooden floor underneath.  She shuddered and whined like a trampled
puppy and he took half a step back to empty his cock in her gasping mouth,
his hot jism spurting from his piss-slit and into the pink shadows between
her swollen lips.
   ***
   Antonio does not know if it is he or the Beast who buries the young dead
college student in the black mud of the swamp.  It is hard work and he
suspects the Beast has gone into hibernation now.  The Beast doesn't like
hard work, the kind of work Antonio has done all his life.  The Beast lives
only for the pleasure of the Kill.
   It is morning and the sun is lighting up the sky and the birds and
insects have begun to sing and buzz when he rolls the cut up body of the
blonde girl into the shallow grave.
   She ends up on her back, her dead eyes still open, blue as the distant
sky she does not see.
   Antonio does not know why but it gives him pleasure then to lift his
cock and aim a stream of his hot piss down on the face of the dead girl.
   He realizes he never even bothered to learn her name from the documents
in the small purse he is burying with her.  Along with her tattered clothes
it is all he has known of her.
   "Filthy pig," he mutters at the slaughtered female.
   The fleeting thought that someone loved the girl, that someone will miss
her and cry for her, that she was someone's daughter, sister or lover,
briefly passes through his mind.
   The Beast does not let him dwell on such thoughts...only on the sweet
rapture of the Kill.
   When he finishes urinating he tosses the black mud on top of her.
   It will take him a couple of hours to clean up the cabin and prepare it
for the next victim.
   WOODBURN