The Perfect Girl ----------------- Missing Camille Martinez Goes by Cami 5'1", dark auburn hair, gray eyes, 98 lbs Last seen March 28, 2002 at the Cucamonga Wilderness trailhead Wearing Levi 501s, white tank top, brown hiking boots Cami is 18 years old, and is hearing impaired Does not read lips, her speech is not good If you have seen Cami or have any information about her whereabouts, please call the Los Angeles County Sheriff's department ----------------- He bites back the smile as he reads the poster over the crying woman's shoulder. Feels a stirring in his groin. "Poor Cami," he thinks giddily, "wonder if they'll ever find you?" The woman tacking up the poster turns, her eyes hopeful, tear filled. "Do-do you know Cami?" He shakes his head no, places his hand on her shoulder. "Do you want me to take some posters, put them up around my building?" "Oh, please!" She hands him a thick stack, asks him please, will he give some to others, too? He nods, of course, of course. Gosh, he sure hopes they find her, hope she's okay. The woman thanks him, wanders away. He walks to his car, his smile broad. He pulls from the campus parking lot, humming. His cock is hard, it has been since last night. He went to sleep hard, he woke up hard. But he'll take care of that soon enough. Or Cami will. He stops at the AM/PM, grabs a carton of smokes, some munchies. Fills the tank. People smile at him, and he smiles back, knowing he has a delicious secret, knowing they would run screaming if they knew what he had done, what he was going to do. On any other day he might follow some of the women who looked at him, smiled welcomingly. But not today, today he has plans. Driving east on the 10, he eats his Twinkies distractedly. He hasn't eaten since yesterday. Since he found her. She is so sweet, her eyes big and soft. She didn't even hear him, didn't realize until he was on her. He'd seen her on the trail. He passed her, he smiled, she smiled. He tried to strike up a conversation but she shook her head, signed. He nodded, knew right there that she was next. She'd been dropped off at this end of the trail so she was probably going to be picked up at the other. He knew that was okay, she wouldn't make it that far. He hiked on, just around the bend, then turned back. Bushwhacking, he circled around so he was ahead of her, then crouched, waited. He grabbed her from behind, knocked her to the ground under him. She didn't scream, she just moaned, grunted as she struggled. He ground his hips against her ass, pulled his belt off and clasped her wrists together. Wrapping his belt around, he secured her arms behind her. She was whining, twisting and writhing under him. Pulling her to her feet by the hair, he dragged her down the trail as she whimpered, fought. She went limp once, but she was so small, it was easy to lift her by the arm. He pulled out his knife, showed it to her. Her eyes got wide, filled with tears as she shook her head. Grabbing her hair again, he dragged her back down to where his car was parked. Twice he had to drag her into the brush, put the knife to her throat, a hand over her mouth, as people hiked by. Just feet away, and they were oblivious. They got to the icehouse, and she started fighting again. Thrashing, writhing, her legs kicking as he lifted her, carried her in. Her ride was parked in the small lot, waiting for her, when he walked down to his car. He smiled, waved, then got in his car. That was last night. He hadn't touched her, other than to tie her more tightly and gag her. He blindfolded her, too. Since she couldn't hear, he knew the sensory deprivation would make her crazy. He smiles, mentally thanks Dr. Benson and his advanced Perception course. Taking the Mt. Wilson exit, he starts to get nervous---what if she got away? What if he hadn't tied her tightly enough, what if he didn't lock the door securely behind him? He'd never left one alone before, he'd always just taken them, did the things he did. He drives faster, sweating, scared. She was perfect, she was just what he was looking for, she had to be there. Parking at the small lot, he leaps from the car, runs up the trail. He's moaning low, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he gallops the two miles, sure she is gone. But she isn't. He unlocks the heavy door, throws it open, and there she is. So small and still on the cold cement floor. She didn't hear him open the door, doesn't know there is anyone here. He watches closely, makes sure she's still breathing. She is. He sighs, then laughs at his own fear. Of course she's here, where would she go? She is his. He goes to work, setting everything up. Turning on the kerosene lamps, he closes the door, locking it from the inside. He loops rope through the hook in the ceiling, runs more through the rings in the floor. Opening his toolbox, he pulls out the things he will need; the clamps, the jaw spreader. He laughs, she still doesn't know he's here. But she'll know soon enough. Pulling the video camera from the case, he sets it up on the tripod, aims it, then turns it on. He's ready. He takes a moment, begins to strip. His cock is huge, he knows it, smiles as he strokes it lightly. He hopes she's a virgin, virgins are the best. He wonders if she can scream. She didn't on the trail, but she wasn't in pain then. He hopes she can, he loves the sound, wants to hear it from her mouth. He walks over, stands before her, stroking his cock harder. So sweet, so innocent, she has no idea. He calls her name, she doesn't move. She really is deaf. He's never done a deaf one. He knows she'll be special, probably his best ever. He just knows she's the one. He grabs her by the shoulders and she explodes into motion. She moans, whines as she tries to kick, but he has her securely trussed. He lifts her by the hair and her whines become wordless cries. He smiles. If she can cry out like that, she can scream. He needs her to scream. He hauls her to the center of the room, grabs the rope from the ceiling. He threads it through the ropes holding her wrists behind her, then yanks hard. She lets out a barking cry as her arms are wrenched painfully behind her, her bound legs kicking as she is lifted from the floor. Her cries get louder, more plaintive as she swings by her bound wrists. He bends down, careful not to let her kick him, and sets to work securing her ankles to the rings in the floor. First one, then the other, so her legs are spread wide. "I'm not trying to be mean," he says soothingly, knowing she can't hear him, "but you're so tiny, the only way I can do this right is if I lift you up." Moving behind her, he begins to stroke her thighs, then begins stripping her jeans from her. His knife in hand, he slices easily through the denim, removes them completely in only a minute or two. Her cries have become animal whines, she twitches and jerks, trying to evade his touch. He wraps an arm around her hips, his other hand reaching into her panties to part her pussy lips. She is whipping her head about, her hips bucking as he grasps her clit between his thumb and forefinger. She's moaning, whining, her ass moving against his cock. Stepping in front of her, he smiles. Reaching out, he grasps her tank top at the neck and yanks hard. It takes a few tries, but finally the material gives. He moans as she gasps, then begins whimpering. He cups her firm, large breasts, kneads them, squeezes. Untying her feet from the rings, he pulls them up behind her, loop the rope through the ceiling hook. He fiddles, adjusts her height until it's perfect, she's just right. Stepping behind her, he steadies her with his hands on her legs, pulls her back so his cock is resting against her pussy lips. Pushing relentlessly, he gives a whoop when he feels how tight she is, feels her hymen resisting, then tearing as he shoves his tool deeper and deeper. She begins to squeal, writhing wildly, then screams when he begins ramming in earnest. His eyes fill with tears at the sound of her screaming, his smile wide, joyful. She screams with each tearing thrust, wordless, agonized, terrified screams. He talks to her in a low, calm voice, tells her it's okay to scream, she doesn't have to worry, no one can hear her in here. She can scream all she wants to, all she needs to. He will help her scream. He stops talking as his rape of her virgin pussy becomes furious, frantic. Harder and harder, he begins moaning, his cock swelling and twitching inside her. He explodes, fills her with his cum as she screams. He loves the sound. He loves her. So much, he loves her. Pulling out, he pats her leg gently, watches his spunk trickle out of her pink, bleeding pussy. She was a virgin, she had waited for him. He starts to cry. He knew she was special. Lowering her, he strokes her hair as she whines with the returned blood flow to her arms, the shooting pains in her shoulders. Kneeling beside her, he grasps her legs, pulls them up to secure them to her wrists. She begins to kick, to writhe, and he loves her even more. "Yes, baby," he moans as he captures each leg in turn, yanks it up and in place, "yes, baby, fight for me, struggle your hardest, I love you." Hog tied, she squirms for a few minutes while he watches, then subsides, her breathing wheezing and hard. He pets her, his hand casually toying with the head of his dick. Suddenly he grabs her hair, jerks her to her knees. She squeals, twists around, trying to escape him. He grasps her firmly with one hand, begins winding rope around her, around her waist, her chest, above and below her breasts. He yanks hard, pulling the rope as tightly as he can. Her breasts are trapped, forced out, the blood becoming trapped as he winds the rope around and around their bases. He is so happy, he looks at her bound tits and leans down to kiss one gently. How beautiful she is. He feels blessed. Running the rope from the hook through the ropes at her belly, he hauls her up so she is hanging stomach up, head hanging, her ankles and wrists bound behind her. He steps in front of her, grasps her head, and puts the jaw spreader in her mouth. She tries to pull away, tries to force it back out, but he is firm and fast. Cranking it quickly, her mouth is trapped open. He runs a finger along her lips as she whimpers. Her sweet, full lips, trembling, straining over the harsh metal of the spreader. Grasping his cock, he pushes it past those lips, into her mouth. He's soft, limp. He moves her back and forth, begins to groan in frustration-his cock is still flaccid, he's not getting hard. "God damn you," he growls, pulling out of her mouth, "fucking stupid bitch, I could get hard if you . . . " He turns, grabs the clamps, returns to stand in front of her face. Grasping her darkening, heavily veined breasts, he begins affixing the clamps. Her head jerks up, she begins writhing, and then she screams. Shrill, agonized, she screams again and again as he places clamp after clamp on her trapped breasts, covering her nipples, her areolas. His cock responds to her cries, her struggles, and he grasps her hair again, forces her wide jaws over his meat. He laughs contentedly at the sound of her gagging, the feeling of her throat constricting around his cock. She is choking, can't breathe, and oh, he loves her. He does, he tells her he's sorry he got mad, he loves her so much. He fucks her face ferociously, slamming so hard her nose begins to bleed. He revels in the feeling of her tongue working desperately, his balls slapping her face. He pulls her all the way forward, buries his meat deep in her throat as he cums, shooting wave after wave into her belly. He strokes her face tenderly as she struggles to swallow it all, to breathe again. He bends down, kisses her sweet chin. "Be good, baby," he whispers, "be good and we can be together forever. I love you." Lowering her, he unhooks her feet from her wrists, then attaches her feet to the rope and hauls her up. She is hanging, head down, writhing, swaying, dangling only inches above the rough concrete floor. He sits down against the cold wall, lights a cigarette and watches her struggle. He watches her tortured tits moving, swinging as she squirms. "Oh, baby, you are so sweet." He smiles happily. Life is good, he thinks. He hopes they can stay here together for always. He closes his eyes and enjoys the sound of her whining, grunting. Taking a last drag from his smoke, he looks down at his cock in disappointment. He thought seeing her dangling, tits angry and pained, would get him hard again. It hasn't. He rises, walks to her. "Maybe you're not the one," he mutters, "maybe I was wrong about you, too." Stepping close, he pushes the burning butt against her pussy lip. She screams, her head whipping madly, her hips bucking as she sways in the air. He feels the tingle as his cock begins to stiffen. He's not sure anymore. Maybe she's the one, maybe not. Grasping the base of his cock, he begins rubbing it between her squeezed-together thighs. He becomes hard quickly, then steps behind her, pushing the head of his dick against her puckering, pink asshole. Grasping her thighs, he pulls her back as he thrusts down, tearing her butt wide as he plunges in. Her screams are different now, like an animal, and she bucks uncontrollably as she shrieks. Oh, God, she's so beautiful, he thinks. Of course she's the one, how could he have doubted? Raping her asshole with all his might, he groans with pleasure as her blood begins to flow, lubricating, making each vicious thrust a hot, smooth, trip. Her breath is forced from her in shrill, gasping cries. She grunts under the force of his blows. He buries his cock deep, all the way in, then moans as her ass clenches and tightens around him, milking him. "Perfect," he growls as her body squeezes the orgasm from him, "oh, my God, baby, you are so wonderful, you are so very good." His spunk fills her bleeding asshole, and he stays in her until he's limp, just rolling with the spasming of her butt around him. He was right, he thinks. She's the one. He leaves her hanging, whining, whimpering. Lighting another smoke, he starts to tell her. Tell her all about himself. His mom, his step dad, the things they did to him. The way they told him that it was his fault, that if he were just a better a boy, they wouldn't hurt him, violate him. He tells her about all the girls before her, how each had seemed so sweet, so perfect, but each had failed him in the end. How he hopes she won't fail him, too, because he loves her so. How he loves that she screams for him, how wonderful her screams are to him. He says he wants to be with her forever, just hearing her scream. He knows she understands. She falls silent, and he frowns. He walks back to her, pushes at her with his foot. She grunts, but no more. Growing angry, he draws his knee up, nails her in the belly. She lets out an ooph, another grunt, but nothing else. "Don't do this you stupid cow!" he is enraged now, begins pacing, punching and kicking at her helpless, dangling form, "I fucking love you, don't you dare do this!" Ripping one of the clamps from her tits, he pulls her pussy lips open and affixes it to her clit. She cries out weakly, and he is livid. "Not good enough, you cunt, not by a long shot! Grabbing her hair, he yanks her up, pulls off the blindfold. Her eyes are wide, cloudy with pain and fear. He unties the rope holding her up, lets her crash to the hard floor. She struggles weakly, tries to get her legs under her. Her terror is renewed, and he knows it's because she saw his eyes. They always fight again when they see his eyes, he knows. It's because they know they're going to die. Wrapping the rope around her neck, he yanks, hauling her up so she's on her tip toes, struggling to keep her airway open. He pulls out his knife, and she stumbles, staggers, hanging by her neck, strangling. She gets her feet back under her, balances on her toes. He wonders what she would stand on if he cut her toes off. He is crying. He really did think that she was the one. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Smiling, he leans over, opens the passenger side door. "Where you headed, honey?" The girl leans in, smiles nervously. Newport, she tells him. She's going to Newport Beach, going to meet some friends in a few days. He tells her to hop in, don't worry, he's a teacher and a scout leader. She nods, throws her pack in the back seat, and climbs in. She's so lovely, he thinks. He shifts to accommodate his hardening cock. She's perfect. She's the one, he just knows it.
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