The Van 2 Warning: this story contains graphic rape and murder. Don't read it if this isn't your cup of tea. Conversely, if this is your cup of tea, so much so that you think you should try hurting someone in real life, please reconsider, as you are too stupid to get away with it and too soft for prison, where you will be raped more savagely than even my twisted mind could imagine. If, however, you are somewhere in the middle, then please enjoy.
Mark had been watching the girl for a couple of months now and he felt confident he could snatch her without getting caught. Her name was Kristin and she worked as a bikini barista (where Mark had first noticed her) while putting herself through college.
Mark had gotten into the habit of buying a latte a couple of times a week until he knew her hours by heart. He would make friendly chit chat whenever he stopped there, stopping just short of flirting because he didn't want to scare her off. Soon she came to know him well enough to let a few personal facts drop. She was 18 years old and was living on her own for the first time since moving from out of state.
She didn't really know anyone that well yet. It was hard to socialize when you were going to school and working 20 hours a week. She didn't have a car, but that was okay because she lived close enough that she could walk to work and school. She also mentioned that she was taking a full week off from work so she could study for midterms. A light went on in Mark's head when he heard this.
It meant she wouldn't be missed from work for a week. Mark loved his wife and considered himself faithful. He never had affairs. He never took any love or companionship from anyone but her. The women he took were only prey. They gave him the one thing his wife couldn't: their lives. She knew of the situation, of course. She tolerated it because she knew that the women would never be around long enough to develop a relationship with him.
Sometimes she even helped him to abduct the girls. Still, there were times he thought she was jealous of his doomed women. He hadn't yet told her about his newest target. He watched the coffee shop from the van, the engine idling. It was the Friday before the girl's vacation, almost 8:00pm.
She would be off in minutes. He watched the coffee shop door anxiously. No matter how many times he did this, he still got nervous just before it went down. Finally the door opened and Kristin emerged looking lovely as ever. She was a small girl, probably not much more than 5'2" and barely a hundred pounds.
She was wearing a pair of running shorts and sneakers that showed off her shapely legs even better than the bikini she had on underneath.
She had slipped a tee shirt over her bikini top so as to be not too conspicuous, but it was snug fitting and Mark could clearly make out the shape of her firm young breasts beneath.
"You're about to go on one long vacation, honey," Mark muttered to himself as he put the van into drive. As he pulled up next to her, he rolled the window down and shouted out to her in as friendly a manner as he could muster, "Hey look who it is! Kristin, right?" "Hi," said the girl with a smile. "Yeah, it's Kristin.
We just closed, though. Sorry." "Oh, wasn't going to buy anything," said Mark with a smile. "I was just wondering if you wanted a ride?" "That's sweet, thanks, but I like to jog home. Free exercise, you know." "That's cool," said Mark, still smiling.
"Hey hold on a second, I want to show you something." He grabbed the tazer from the floor of the van and pointed it at her. "What is it?" she asked. The next moment she was convulsing about on the pavement as a disabling current of electricity passed through her body. Mark quickly looked around to make sure there was no one else around, then calmly opened the side door of the van, picked the girl up and dropped her inside.
He took the opportunity while she was still stunned to hogtie her using two pair of handcuffs, then ballgagged her. That would keep her quiet for the ride home. Mark took one last look into the back of the van before he started off. The girl was staring at him with terror and confusion. He was going to have one hell of an evening.
Mark made the drive home with the caution of a drunk: stopping for each yellow light, allowing every merging vehicle the right-of-way, and not going a mile over the speed limit. He always worried at times like these that he was going to get pulled over on some mundane traffic violation.
All it would take would be a scream from his occupant in the back and the fun times would be over. He wasn't able to relax until he was parked in his garage. As the garage door closed with a slight thud, he exhaled and smiled.
With the bulk of the work now over, he could finally enjoy the girl at his leisure. His wife's car wasn't there yet, which meant he had some time before he had to explain his new acquisition. He opened the back of the van and stepped in. His captive stared back at him warily, still hogtied. "I'm going to release your legs, Kristin," he said. "If you try to run, or kick me, or anything else stupid, I'll use the tazer on you.
I just need you to walk into the house with me. Do you understand?" After a moment's consideration, she nodded. Keeping a tight grip on the girl's arms, Mark led her into the house and straight for the bedroom. She remained fairly calm until he pushed her onto the bed and jumped on top of her.
Then she began to struggle and scream into her gag. Mark decided to remove it. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice a combination of anger and fear. "You can scream if you like," Mark replied. "I kind of like it. And we don't have any neighbors within earshot." Suddenly he slapped her, causing her to cry out.
Then his big, gnarled hands grasped the neck of her tee shirt and in one powerful motion ripped it in two. The bikini top underneath was a flimsy little garment, and broke apart easily under his lust-fueled strength.
He stared with appreciation at her perky breasts. They weren't huge, but they were very round and firm. Her skin was nicely tanned, with only two triangles of paler flesh around her breasts where her bikini had been. She must prefer beaches to tanning beds, thought Mark. "Get off!" she screamed, bucking about indignantly. She clearly wasn't happy, but with her hands cuffed behind her back, there was very little resistance she could put up. "I intend to," replied Mark, who then smiled, pleased with his wit.
He began to knead her breasts, his calloused hands mauling her soft, youthful flesh. Then he grabbed her by the nipples and pulled her up to him, forcing her to raise herself off the bed to lessen the pain.
"Stop!" she cried. "You're hurting me!" He kissed her passionately on the mouth, then let her drop back down. "Yeah. I'm definitely going to hurt you." He wrapped his hands around her throat and clamped down. Her eyes got wide as saucers as she realized just how much trouble she was really in. Within seconds she began to make soft choking sounds. She tried to lower her chin to block Mark away from her throat, but it was too late, he already had a firm grip.
She tried to knee him but the angle was no good, and she was losing strength quickly. Mark continued to strangle her with his right hand as he slipped his left hand under first her shorts and then the elastic waistband of her panties.
Her pubic mound had been shaved recently and only a short layer of fuzz had grown back. As Mark slipped his first two fingers into her pussy he felt her body contract as it futilely tried to keep him out.
He strangled her until she lost consciousness, then decided it was time to finish undressing her. He untied her sneakers and slipped them off. She had ankle socks underneath which he removed as well. He took one of her small feet in his hands and rubbed it against his crotch. God, he wanted her! He unbuttoned her shorts and lifted her hips off the bed, then slid them down her legs and past her ankles.
He did the same with her panties, leaving her completely nude. She was magnificent. She would serve his needs well. He pulled his pants down to his knees, pushed her unresisting legs apart, and without further preamble began to fuck her. She was a good little piece of ass, for sure, and Mark soon lost himself in pleasure.
He hardly noticed when she woke up, her face registering first confusion and then despair. He didn't notice when the bedroom door opened, or even when the girl started crying out optimistically for help. "Who's your new friend?" a voice asked. Mark jumped. He quickly pulled out of the girl and turned to look at his wife.
"Help meeee!" cried the girl, tears streaking her face. "Shut her up," said Jean. Quickly, Mark retrieved the ball gag and forced it into the girl's mouth. He looked back at his wife and smiled sheepishly. "Just a barista. Nobody, really." "And what are you planning to do with this barista when you're done with her?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Drive her out into the desert like the others. I already dug a hole." Jean sighed. "Christ, now it smells like pussy in here.
Don't you ever get enough of these young bimbos? I mean, you can't just keep killing college girls and expect the cops not to find you." "So what do you want me to do? You want me to let her go?" "Obviously you can't do that." She looked down at his cock, which was slowly shrinking back to normal size. "Could you at least wear a condom?" she asked. "I don't really want to catch this chick's herpes." "Oh, no she's clean." Jean glared at him.
She took a moment to compose herself then sat down on the bed next to the girl. "I have a new rule," she said, brushing the hair away from the girl's face. "If you want to fuck a girl who's not me, you need to take her somewhere else.
I don't want this happening in our home again. Not only is it disrespectful to me, but it links us both to the crime." "But where am I supposed to take her?" "Take her out to the dessert, have your fun with her there, and then get rid of her." Mark wanted to argue but he knew she was right. "Are you sure you don't want to join in the fun? She's pretty hot…" "I'm not in the mood," replied Jean. She opened a dresser drawer and found a couple of condoms. "And for Christ's sake, take these with you." It was a three hour drive, most of which was completely off road, to Mark's spot.
When they finally got there, they were so far from any kind of civilization that he took her gag out. She could scream all she wanted now and nobody was going to save her. "Shshhh," he said to her protestations. "We're almost there, just a little walk." Having decided that she wasn't going to need clothes where she was going, Mark had left her completely nude.
Her arms were cuffed behind her back, but other than that she had freedom of movement. Placing his bowie knife under her chin, he forced her to her feet. "Come on," he said, slapping her on the ass, "out of the van." Her body shook with sobs, and she could barely respond. "I… I don't want too… pleeeeaase!" "There, there," he responded.
"It'll all be over soon enough." Grabbing her by the hair, he flung her out of the van. She landed roughly, scraping her knee, but she immediately got up and tried to run. Mark caught her easily.
It was a fifty yard walk from where Mark had parked the van to the grave he had dug, which was at the bottom of a shallow ravine and couldn't be reached except by foot. She didn't want to go. When they got about half way down she again tried to bolt for it, but of course she was shoeless and her arms being behind her back upset her balance. Panic caused her to run wildly, and she fell.
Mark caught up to her immediately. "I don't know where you think you're going," he said, "there's nowhere to run." He was extremely aroused by now, as the bulge in his jeans indicated.
While he enjoyed the rape, it was the killing that really turned him on, and he had had a long drive to think about how he was going to do it. He pulled her to her feet, holding the knife under her neck. He put his face into her hair and breathed in her fresh, clean scent. He was intoxicated by her fear and by the thought of what he was about to do to her. Taking hold of her throat with his left hand, he let the tip of the knife slowly trace a path downward. Pressing into her delicate skin ever so gently, the knife traveled between her breasts, paused a moment to tickle her right nipple, then moved down her smooth stomach.
Mark pressed the tip into her navel, causing her to draw in her stomach in order to avoid being cut. He pressed it there for a few seconds, then with a quick flick of the wrist gave her a superficial but stinging cut.
The girl screamed, more in fear than in pain, and began to stomp with her tiny bare feet on Mark's booted insteps. He could hardly feel it, but he lifted her off the ground and let her kick her legs pointlessly for a few seconds before putting her back down. Her legs, and indeed her entire body, were trembling uncontrollably. Mark just held her there for a moment, letting her calm down a bit. Blood from her navel slowly ran down her pelvis, leaving a trail of red all the way to her shaved pussy, where eventually it dripped from between her lips into the dust on the ground.
Putting his lips to her ear, he whispered, "Don't move an inch, or you'll regret it." He brought the knife slowly between her legs and placed the edge vertically between her pussy lips. "Oh, God!" she whispered. "Please don't hurt me!" Mark ignored her.
He had no intention of ruining a perfectly good pussy before he had even finished enjoying it. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not done with you yet." With that he put the heel of his boot against her ass and pushed her, sending her tumbling down the remaining twenty-five yards to the bottom of the ravine.
He then jogged down after her. She was still trying to get up when he reached her, so her grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her the remaining few yards to the edge of the grave. He then forced her to her knees and made her look at it. "It's not much, I know," he said, "but I hope you like it, because it's going to be your new home." She began to bawl again, her tear-stained eyes pleading, her words coming in jagged bursts.
"I don't…" she started to say, before her body was racked by sobs. "I don't… want to diieee!" Mark took her face gently between his hands, brushed the hair out of her face, and looked into her eyes. They were so beautiful, those big brown, terror-filled eyes. He wondered why he felt no compassion for her. "The thing is, honey," he said gently, "I want you to die." With that he pushed her into the grave.
He looked down at her, began to unbuckle his belt, and stepped into the grave himself. It was time for one last fuck. He grabbed her by the calves, enjoying the sensation of her muscles contracting, and slowly pulled her legs apart. He got one of his legs between her knees and soon he had her spread wide.
Pushing the tip of his cock against her pussy, he let himself slide into her. She was tight at first, but he quickly worked up a nice rhythm. "Please don't kill me!" she begged. "I won't tell! I promise I won't tell!" Mark paid her no mind. He wasn't going to give her a chance to tell.
Once again he clenched his hands over her slender neck. "No!" she cried. "Don't-" Her words were cut off as Mark's fingers dug into her throat. At first there was no sound at all. Then came the sounds of choking as her lungs fought for air.
Then she coughed, the result of the damage being done to her throat. Mark continued to fuck her. He liked to try to time his orgasm with the girl's death. It was very difficult to achieve, but he liked to believe he came pretty close more often than not.
He speared violently into her again and again, his cock grinding into her smooth pink flesh. He lowered his mouth to her chest and bit down deeply into her breast. His teeth popped through her flawless skin and drew blood.
That would be evidence, Mark thought absently, if they found her corpse in time. Their gyrations were disrupting the walls of the grave, and little streams of dirt kept trickling down the sides. Mark paid it no mind. His fingers ached, but he continued to press them into her throat with all his might.
Her face turned red and then purple. He looked into her warm brown eyes, which were quickly losing their focus. Her eyelids, which Mark noticed had a small amount of glitter on them, would close each time she lost consciousness, then pop open again with temporary vigor as she fought to stay alive. Then she would stare into space for a minute at a time, hardly blinking.
Her tongue hung out of her mouth, occasionally darting to life in search of air. Mark licked it, then kissed her. She was beyond biting him. Her death rattle started. Mark had observed that girls all made slightly different sounds as they died, but he could always recognize the sound of death.
This girl's death noises were more grunt-like than most. Finally her body began to convulse, and Mark knew that it wouldn't be long now. He fucked her as fast as he could, flesh rubbing against flesh, fingers pressing into throat.
As he felt the rush of semen surging up from his balls he pried the girl's eyelids all the way open and stared hard into her glassy brown eyes. His cum sprayed into her dead pussy like a flash flood. He continued to pump his hips into her for a good thirty seconds afterward, making sure that every last drop of semen was deposited.
Then he just lay there for a few minutes, tingling. Finally he got up. The girl sure looked dead, but he wanted to make sure. He unsheathed his bowie knife, placed it under her chin, and slit her throat from ear to ear.
A small pool of blood quickly accumulated at the bottom of the grave. Yeah, she was definitely dead. He got a bottle of lye and a shovel from the van and returned to the grave. He emptied the bottle on the girl, then began the task of burying her. Slowly, her sexy tanned body began to disappear under the layers of dirt, until eventually nothing but a tiny patch of skin on her hip showed. "It was nice to know you, Kristin," he remarked, and dropped the spade-full of dirt.