1. I Don't Even Know Her Name


    Date: 8/30/2018, Categories: Fiction, Anal, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Cruelty, First Time, Hardcore, Murder, Non-consensual sex, Rape, Snuff, Teen, Torture, First Time, Author: Serum114, Source: sexstories.com

    I don't even know what her name was. The full moon illuminates the cold, desolate woods as another hot burst of vomit sears my throat. I hold my knees, and hear the scampering of a squirrel as it hurries up a tree, anxious to get out of the midnight November air. A shovel rests at my feet, the blade a foot away from the dead girl's hand. It protrudes, stiff and blue, from a pile of dead, damp leaves. I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my jacket. Steam rises from the expelled contents of my stomach. My mind is a reeling. I'm scared of getting caught, relieved in finally satiating the urge, and shocked at how easy it had all been. Vomiting appears to be the way my body handles such an overload of emotion. I had a five by two foot rectangle dug into the cold wet earth. Three feet deep was my goal. Three feet would be plenty. "I don't even know what her name was." I think to myself, my stomach turning again. I had been driving down a typical rural Nebraska road when I spotted the girl. Miles of harvested corn fields stretched to the horizon on my right, and a dense forest loomed on the left. I was making the 10 mile drive to town for reasons I can't even remember. In the distance, pushing a bike along the side of the deserted road, was a young girl. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a pink fleece hoodie. She looked over her shoulder as I approached. Dark brown hair spilled out of the front of her upturned hood. As if possessed, I eased of the gas and slowed as I neared the ...
    vulnerable girl. Her purple bike was sporting a popped rear tire and dirt covered her left pant leg. I pulled over about 30 yards in front of her. I'm not sure what made me stop. Part of me thinks, or hopes, that I just wanted to help. The rest of me, the sadly more honest part, thinks I knew my plans for the girl as soon as I saw her. Through the rearview mirror I saw the girl stop walking. Her entire body seemed to tense up as she stared at my reflected eyes. I stepped out of the car, and started walking toward her. She looked at my varsity jacket, and then my face. The girl smiled and the fear dissolved from her skinny body. "Hi Mike." She said, as she started walking toward me. The girl was just over five feet tall and had a face still childlike in its roundness. The name and emblem of my local high school adorned the left breast of her pink zip-up hoodie. Even though I had no idea who the girl was, I was not at all surprised to learn she knew me. In small town Nebraska, the local High School's Quarterback tends to be a local celebrity. I've done a few ribbon cuttings, and have even been asked to sign a few autographs. I'm asked to ride in parades, and every father I meet in town seems to talk up his beautiful daughter. If only they knew. "Hi." I say to the girl, flashing her a convincing smile. "Are you okay? " I ask, looking at a two inch tear on the dirty left leg of her jeans. A bloody scrape is visible through the jagged hole. "It's just a scratch." She said, smiling. ...
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