I remember when I first started killing. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was fifteen and horny as fuck. I also had a special talent nobody else had; I could disappear from one location and reappear at another in milliseconds by just thinking about it. I first learned that about my gift when I was nine, and by the time I was fifteen I had already used it to get away with numerous crimes(mostly stealing shit and pulling childish-but-major pranks). I was only eleven when I started to realize that chicks dying turned me on after streaming a horror movie and watching a topless girl get cut in half. It wasn't long after that I discovered simulated snuff porn on the Internet. It only took four years for me to realize that I could use my gift to enjoy my fantasies for real. My first victim was a 15-year-old cutie by the name of Joanne Faulkner. She had long red hair which fell to her ass, with an average body, and emerald-green eyes. She had already developed large breasts which showed through whatever top she wore. Joanne was a genuinely happy-go-lucky girl who was extremely friendly towards everyone. She was also quite intelligent, though a bit dorky. She participated in science club, anime club, and had top grades in her class. On the day of her death, she wore a Pokemon t-shirt which showed ample cleavage when she bent over, a white pleated skirt which revealed most of her long silky legs, a pair of tennis shoes, and glasses. When I decided I would use my powers to rape and kill women I knew Joanne would be my first. I had a crush on her since sixth grade, though we barely talked. Since seventh grade, I started dreaming about having sex with her, and I eventually started imagining her in my darker fantasies. I started stalking her six weeks prior to her death, studying her daily routine so I could find the best time to carry out the deed. I did. After school, she was completely alone since her father didn't get off work until ten and her mother until eleven. Her older brother works from five to nine-thirty. When attending her after school activities she would usually get home at 6:00, so I would have a few hours to have fun. When the day had come I was both excited and anxious. Every time I saw Joanne in the halls I would get turned on by knowing that she would not be alive tomorrow. I won't lie, I did feel a little guilt in me, but that guilt only seemed to turn me on even more. I got especially turned on whenever she spoke to me or brushed up against me. In fifth-period, she sat right across from me and I glanced over quite often. Two or three times she bent over and her loose top gave me a full view of her beautiful cleavage. I took every chance I had to take in the sight of her body, knowing that this would be the last day I'd see it. Those forty-five minutes the butterflies in my stomach outnumbered those in the Amazon Rainforest. When I got home I was lucky to find that I had the house to myself. My mother was going to work until midnight and my dad was away on a business trip. So I changed into clothes and a pair of gloves that I had stolen for the occasion and grabbed a 9-inch hunting knife(also stolen), and teleported to Joanne's house. I appeared in her living room. It was only 4:30 so I had over an hour to wait. I spent the time going through their house and looking at belongings. As I did excitement rose up in me at the thought of destroying this almost-too-perfect family. Joanne had tons of trophies in her closet, her book collection made it clear that she was quite intelligent, and I learned that she had an interest in astronomy and computer science. The mixed feeling of both guilt and pleasure at the thought of ending her dreams and hope was stronger than ever. Once I had my fill of snooping around the house I crawled under the bed to wait. She arrived at 5:58, two minutes early. Minutes after the front door opened she entered the bedroom and plopped down on the bed, failing to notice that there was somebody under it. I gave her enough time to take off her shoes and socks, and turn the television on to Cartoon Network, before I jumped out from my hiding spot, grabbed her legs, and pulled her hard to the floor beside the bed. Before she could respond I clenched onto her and forced a deep kiss until she started to push back. She struggled to try and get me off of her for a few minutes before I grabbed my knife and held it up to her face. Her eyes bulged, but she ceased struggling. I continued to kiss her, using my tongue to taste every inch of the inside her mouth, for several minutes. I used my free hand to caress the side of her face and her long hair. Her eyes had already started to tear up, I thought she was going to start crying right then. After I stopped to gasp some air she asked "Why Burton?" in a weak voice. "This is something I have been dreaming about for years," I replied while grabbing her right breast. I got a good squeeze of her right breast before reaching the bottom of her shirt. I lifted it and slowly made my way back up towards her breasts. I made sure to caress and enjoy the feel of her tummy as I went along, stopping to poke her belly button, before continuing upward. I pushed on underneath her bra to feel her bare left tit. I squeezed and rubbed it for several minutes while returning to kissing Joanne. I then started to rub her nipple, which was already hard. She moaned in response to the touch. After a few minutes of stimulating her nipple, I stopped to push forcefully remove shirt and bra. I took a minute to enjoy the sight of her gorgeous grapefruit-sized breasts and tiny pink nipples. When I got over how beautiful they were I immediately put half of her left tit into my mouth and started sucking, licking, and biting what bit of her hot tittie I could fit in. I almost choked trying to get her whole breast in. Her moans intensified, and she started to sob. I started running the knife across her right breasts, just enough to cause some pain, but not enough to draw blood. I occasionally poked her nipple, still not hard enough to draw blood. The light torture caused Joanne to gasp and cry more. I spent about ten minutes just playing with her titties. By the time I was done with them the right breast was sore from the knife, red marks could be seen all over it. Joanne was still crying, but she hadn't said anything else yet. Her face and hair were wet from all of the tears. I looked into her beautiful eyes before giving her another deep kiss on the mouth. After that, I changed positions and started rubbing her legs. "If you try anything funny I will kill you, Joanne. Do you got that?" I said. "Please stop! I'm a virgin," she replied, choking back tears. "Don't worry, I'll take care of that soon," I replied. Like with her breasts, I used one hand to softly caress and massage her left leg and feet. My other hand was caressing her right leg with the knife. I went a little too hard while the knife between her toes that I accidentally left a small cut, causing her to yelp and cry harder. "My bad," I said while laughing in my head at the fact that I would be doing much worse to her later. I continued feeling her legs, now slowly moving my hand up to her crotch. I left another small cut on her thigh, this time on purpose. I apologized again, with no real feeling behind it this time. Then I started rubbing Joanne's pussy through her panties, she started moaning much louder than when I fondled her tits. I kept rubbing her pussy until her panties were moist, then I used the knife to quickly cut them off and throw em up onto the bed, revealing her nice bald pussy. I stuck two fingers deep into her pussy and started to fuck it, causing Joanne to moan louder than before. I used the knife to torture her crotch area, making her start sobbing more. I continued fucking her pussy with my left fingers, occasionally removing them so I could touch the inside of her pussy with the knife. At some point, she started bleeding, though I couldn't tell if I cut her with the knife or her hymen broke. Either way, I just kept fingering her for another ten minutes, ignoring her cries. After those ten minutes, she had her first orgasm, covering my left hand with pussy juice. I sat up on my knees long enough unbutton my pants and pull my 8-inch cock out. "PLEASE NO!" She yelled through her cries. "You want to die, then?" I replied. To which she merely kept crying. I pushed her legs up and plowed my dick into her tight pussy, she let out a big gasp as it went in. I started out slowly sliding in and out of her narrow cunt, increasing my speed every few minutes. I started sucking on her titties and kissing her mouth while I fucked her pussy. After about five minutes in I pulled her glasses off and started running my knife across her face, slightly poking her in the eyes occasionally(enough to cause some pain, but enough to blind her). "Do you have the hurt me? Please don't torture me!" She cried out. I didn't respond, this time, I only continued fucking and torturing her. I fucked her pussy for an hour, both of us having orgasms every ten minutes. By the time I was done her pussy was oozing with my cum, her face was completely scratched up, and she was crying harder than ever. Finally, as I was about to have my sixth orgasm, I pulled out and shot my load onto her titties. "I love you, Joanne," I said. She only continued crying. After two minutes of no response, I got the remote and turned the television up as loud as I could. I slapped her hard across the face, then I grabbed the knife in both hands ready to stab her. "When I tell you that I love you, what do you say back," I said in a stern voice. "I love you, Joanne," I said one more time. Through sobs and attempts to choke back tears "I love you, Burton," She replied. I grinned widely and brought the knife down hard between her titties. She jerked upright and blood started gushing from her mouth. All she could do is scream and make gurgling sounds as I brought the knife up and back down again. My second stab pierced her left tit just below the nipple. Instead of pulling it straight out I yanked it upwards, slicing her nipple in half and leaving a giant gash in her tits. Another sharp scream escaped her lips through her blood-filled mouth. I grabbed her right breast and began cutting until it was held on my a few strands of flesh. Her entire chest was covered in blood, and looking into her face could tell that she wouldn't last much longer. I lifted up her skirt again and jammed the knife straight into her pussy, pushing it all the way until the hilt was up against her crotch. I yanked it around, destroying the inside of her cunt. I removed it one last time and jammed it straight into her stomach, just below her belly button. I brought the knife up, opening up her stomach and revealing her guts as I went along. By that time she was breathing heavily, but no longer making any sounds. I continued opening up her torso until the knife reached her chest. After that, I pulled out her insides and used the knife to cut her organs loose. I stood up to look at my work one more time. Joanne was still breathing, but barely. She would be dead inside five minutes. After a few minutes, she stopped breathing and her eyes glazed over. I took the time to fuck her one more time, both in her mouth and pussy. When I pulled away my cock was covered in blood and her mouth was filled with red and white. I looked over at the clock on her nightstand to see that it was 8:25, so I had a little more than an hour. I searched the house for cleaning equipment and spent until 9:10 cleaning up Joanne and the bedroom, making sure to remove as much DNA and other evidence as possible. I cleaned most of the blood off and put Joanne's shirt back on her, then I carried her into the living room and put her on a couch facing the front door. Before I left she was positioned such that anyone walking in the front door would see her pussy. By 9:30 I had already teleported back to my house and changed into my normal clothes. I put the blood-stained clothes into a trash bag and teleported to a random dumpster and lit them on fire. Joanne was found by her brother and father, both of whom walked in at the same time. I didn't see the news story until the next evening, but there was a ton of gossip about at school the next day. Gossip about Joanne Faulkner's murder would not stop until I committed my next murder.