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...

       I make it a point to never kill someone I know. Or rather, never to kill someone who knows me, because I often get to know details about my victims as I’m hunting them. But if she knows me, if we have established even a casual relationship, then I almost always eliminate her as a potential victim. The reason is that I would be much more likely to become a suspect to police if that woman was to disappear. Not that anyone would immediately link me to murder, but the police would question people who knew the victim, and that could include me or people who knew me. The margin for error for a serial killer in today’s world is razor thin, and as a rule, it’s much safer to kill a woman you have no connection to.

       Which is why I resisted the urge to kill Minh for so long. I met her when I moved my daughter into her college dorm. As we were unpacking, the door opened and a beautiful Asian girl walked in, followed by her parents. She had beautiful deep brown eyes and a petite but spectacular body. As I chatted with her parents, I couldn’t help but think that it was a shame I wouldn’t be able to sample their daughter. She would have felt good dying beneath me, I mused.

Minh was my daughter’s roommate that year, and although she moved out to get a place off-campus her sophomore year, the two remained friends. I saw her occasionally, but not enough that she would have recognized me out of context. Each time we met I felt a fresh hunger in my loins and with pangs of regret had to force it to subside. For more than a year she was just an idle fantasy while I satisfied myself on other fare. I didn’t start to seriously think of her as prey until the night of the party.

She was involved in some university-run organization that promoted the involvement of parents in school activities. Its purpose, I suppose, was to show the parents how their kids were living, what their classrooms were like, etc. Well, Minh was throwing a party (it wasn’t really a “party” by college standards, but rather a get-together), for a dozen or so students and their parents. My daughter was of course invited, and she brought me.

       Because many of the students, including Minh, were under twenty-one, there was no alcohol, and thus the atmosphere was rather laid back. Some would say it was boring, but not me. Minh, in contrast to her usually conservative attire, was wearing a short skirt. It wasn’t what I would call slutty, but it showed off her young body in a way I had never seen before. I spent the better part of the evening sneaking covert glances at her, my eyes following the curve of her hips down to her slender but shapely brownish thighs, then to her exquisite calves, slender ankles and tiny high-heeled feet. It was hard not to stare, but I had to keep from being too conspicuous. I was beginning to realize that I was going to violate my rule of not killing acquaintances. I just had to figure out how.

       My lust was keeping me from thinking straight, so excused myself to the restroom to masturbate. As I stroked myself, I thought of Minh’s full lips, of her delicate neck and lively eyes. I thought of spreading those long legs of hers and fucking her as she begged me not to hurt her. I imagined by hands clamping down hard around her neck… Just then, I heard her unmistakable girlish laughter from the living room. The sound brought her essence home to me, and I came into the toilet.

       When I returned to the party, I was much calmer and able to think clearly. I got myself a pop from the refrigerator and noticed a large butcher’s knife in the sink. I looked at it for a second, then returned to my daughter.

       As luck would have it, she was talking with Minh. The two were laughing and generally enjoying themselves.

       “You remember my dad,” said my daughter.

       “How’ve you been, Mr. W____?” asked Minh. “Are you having a good time?”

       I smiled wide, as I was genuinely enjoying myself, and told her she was a fine hostess.

       “Could you do us a favor?” she asked, digging a digital camera out of a purse. “Could you take a photo of the two of us?”

       I was happy to. We found a nice spot and the girls put on a silly pose. The photo came out well, we all agreed. They both looked beautiful.

       My daughter and I stuck around for another couple of uneventful hours. Before we left, I carefully placed my cell phone on the floor of the spare room, where the coats were being kept. As we said our goodbyes, I said to Minh, “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

       The party was on a Saturday. The next day, I bought a fake beard and wig. I put them into the trunk of my car along with a bottle of homemade chloroform and a pack of condoms. This is what the police would call a “rape kit.” I had everything I needed. Now to make the arrangements.

I couldn’t just show up at Minh’s place without calling. For one thing she might not be at home, and for another she might not be alone. My daughter would undoubtedly know her number, but after Minh’s body was discovered it would eventually come out that I had inquired about her, which would look suspicious. I had no alternative but to go through the phone book. There were a surprising number of Minh H---s in the city, and I had to call each of them. Not from my home phone, of course, because that too would leave a trail. I spent about fifteen minutes in a phone booth tracking her down. When I finally got the right number I recognized her voice immediately.

“Hi, is this Minh?” I asked. “This is Mr. W___. You know, Chelsea’s father.”

“Oh, hi,” she said.

“Listen, I think my cell phone might have fallen out of my coat at your house yesterday.”

She took the phone into the bedroom where the coats had been. “I’m not seeing it,” she said. I guided her, asking her to check near the head of the bed on the left side. I had had to slide it slightly under the bed so that no one would see it while the party was still going. After another thirty seconds she still hadn’t found it and I asked her to check if it fell under the bed.

“Aha!” she said cheerfully. “Yeah, it’s here.”

“Oh, thank God!” I said, feigning relief. “Would you mind terribly if I stopped by to pick it up? Or are you busy? If you have company I could come back later.”

“No, I’m alone,” she said. “You can get it now if you want.”

Fifteen minutes later I pulled my car up to a curb that was probably 500 yards from her apartment. I didn’t want anyone in the building to recognize my car. I put on the beard and wig and checked myself out in the rearview mirror. I didn’t look particularly convincing, but it was 10:00pm and dark. Besides, the disguise was just to prevent neighbors from identifying me. She lived in a fairly big complex, and chances where someone would see me at some point. This way, if anyone remembered anything, it would be that a bearded man with long hair was the last one to see the victim alive.

I slipped the chloroform and the condoms into my pocket and started walking. As I got into the apartment complex, I noticed a few people loitering about, but they took no notice of me. I was getting nervous and exited, as I always do before a kill, and I just wanted to get to her apartment as quickly as possible without attracting too much attention. Finally I got to her door and rang the bell. I stood there for a second before I remembered that I was still wearing the disguise. I quickly pulled it off and tossed it behind a garbage can just moments before the door opened.

“Look what I found,” said Minh with a friendly smile, waving my phone. For a moment I couldn’t say anything. She was wearing short cotton shorts and a tight fitting tee shirt that accentuated the shape of her waist and breasts. I got the sense that this was how she dressed for bed, casual and comfortable. I doubted that she was aware of the full power of her sex appeal. She wore no makeup and I guessed that she probably rolled out of bed looking like this.

“Thank you so much,” I said, taking the phone. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found it.”

“No problem,” she said.

“By the way, could I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick.”

She showed me in and I made my way to the bathroom. I locked the door and found a washcloth. I poured a lot of chloroform onto it. After a couple of minutes I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and came back out.

“I found this in your bathroom,” I said to Minh, holding the washcloth in my cupped hands and looking intently at it as if it contained something interesting. “I have no idea what it is.”

She approached me curiously. As she looked down at the cloth, I clamped it down hard over her mouth and nose with my left hand as my right hand held the back of her neck and kept her from pulling away. She yelped in surprise and her hands grasped my wrist, but she wasn’t strong enough to give me any trouble. I slid behind her, keeping my left hand, with the washcloth, over her mouth. I used my right arm to pull her body back against mine, letting my hand slide under her cotton tee shirt. I could feel the muscles of her smooth belly contorting as she tried to fight. It didn’t take long for the drug to take effect. After a few seconds her arms went limp and she slouched in my grip. I just held her like that for a moment, enjoying the sensation of her body pressed against mine. I let my hand wander from her stomach down past the waistband of her shorts. I immediately felt pubic hair; she wasn’t wearing any panties. I let my fingers explore her pussy, at first rubbing against the lips, then plunging deep into the warm fleshy folds.

“I’m going to enjoy you very much, my dear,” I whispered, gently kissing the back of the unconscious girl’s neck.

But I couldn’t do it here, in the living room. That would be too messy. There was going to be a lot of blood, and I didn’t want to spent the whole night cleaning up. I carried her into the bathroom, her bare limbs swaying limply, and laid her down on the tile floor. Then I quickly made my way to the kitchen. The butcher’s knife was no longer in the sink, but I soon found it in a knife block next to the stove. It was about six inches long and quite sharp.

Just to be safe, I locked the front door, then returned to the bathroom. Minh was still out cold. I sat her up against the toilet and pulled her shirt up over her arms. Her breasts were smallish but very well formed. I leaned in close and licked her rough brown nipple. She seemed to stir, although her eyes remained closed. The chloroform was close by on the countertop if I needed it again.

I picked her up and repositioned her so that her stomach was resting on the bathtub edge, her head and upper body inside the tub, her ass and legs outside. This position held two advantages for me: Her pussy and ass would be easily accessible, and she would bleed into the bathtub when I cut her throat. I pulled her shorts down past her hips to her knees, admiring her beautiful golden skin, and slapped her shapely ass with delight.

“I hope you like girl,” I said to the knife, “because you’re going to get a feast tonight.”

I turned on the shower, and the water sprayed down on the Minh’s back. The sound of the drops hitting against the porcelain of the tub seemed very loud, but that would probably keep neighbors from hearing any noises my captive might make.

By this time my erection was telling me it was time to get started, so I hastily pulled down my pants and pulled the condom over my dick. I laid a bath towel down next to the tub to cushion my knees and knelt behind Minh. Using my fingers, I spread her vagina lips and snuggled the head of my cock against the narrow opening. Then I slid myself into the girl with one smooth push.

I think I muttered something like, “Oh God.” It felt so good. No matter how many times I do this, I never get tired of it. I didn’t hate Minh. If anything, I’m sure I would have rather liked her, if I had gotten to know her better. But there was nothing in the world that could equal the pleasure of raping and killing an attractive girl like herself, and I was too indifferent to fight the desire.

I thrust my hips slowly but forcibly, sending my cock deep into her canal. The sensation of my flesh grinding into hers became my entire world, and I failed to notice my fingernails digging into her soft thighs, scratching deeply the lovely brown skin. That could possibly have left evidence, I would think later, but for now I was too lost in pleasure. In fact, I was so preoccupied with the doomed girl’s pussy that I didn’t immediately notice that she was looking back at me with confused, quizzical eyes.

“Stop,” she said groggily, brushing her dripping hair out of her eyes. She was still under the influence of the drug and not entirely sure what was happening to her. I was so startled that for a moment I stopped fucking her and just stared at her. But there was no time to lose. In another few seconds she could start screaming. I had to act.

I grabbed her wet, slippery hair in my left hand and pulled her head back, exposing her neck. With my right hand I picked up the knife and held it under her chin.

“No!” she yelled loudly, coming to her senses too late.

The knife cut into her delicate throat easily. I slid the blade through her flesh from ear to ear. There was a spray of blood, most of which was washed away immediately by the shower. The girl’s hands flew instinctively to her throat, trying to close her wound. It was useless, of course, as I had severed her windpipe. She would die of asphyxiation before she died of blood loss.

Knowing that I could now enjoy her at my leisure, I plunged my cock back into her pussy. She began to squirm even more than before, as if she could afford to be worried about cock after what I had done to her throat. Still, she clearly didn’t enjoy being raped. She pushed with her toes against the tile floor, trying to stand up, but her bare feet just kept slipping.

I began to work up a nice rhythm, pounding her dying pussy harder with every stroke. She was such a tight little thing that I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for more than another minute. She would be dead by then anyway. If I wanted to do anything else with her while she was still alive, a dramatic finale, now was the time to do it

I grabbed the knife. Still fucking her with all my might, I reached under her and pressed the tip of the blade against her chest, right between her breasts. I felt her grab my wrist, but she was too weak to pull it away.

“Almost over now,” I told her. “You’ll be dead very soon.”

The orgasm was rapidly approaching. I fucked her as fast as I could, my cock plowing greedily into her, like a starving man who was just given a sandwich. I could feel it… Yes... It was coming… Just a few more strokes…

As the first wave of semen erupted out of my cock, I plunged the knife deep into the girl’s chest. I felt her whole body spasm, including her pussy. Her death throes only increased my pleasure and I shot load after load. Her arms hung lifelessly at her side, rocking slightly with each thrust. I continued to pump mindlessly into her corpse for probably thirty seconds after I had emptied my balls, out of sheer momentum, I suppose. Finally, I shriveled up and slipped out of her.

I took a deep, satisfied breath. The shower was still raining down, and I watched the droplets splash against her back and then run down the side of her body. There was quite a bit of blood swirling around in the tub. I would have to leave it on for a while. I pulled the knife out of the girl and let the shower wash away the blood. I then washed it very thoroughly in the sink, making sure to wipe away my prints. Then I got dressed and looked around to see if I had left anything behind that could be incriminating. As I was searching, I came upon the digital camera that I had used just the other night. Whimsically, I turned it on and looked at the photo I had taken just one night before. I looked away from my daughter, feeling a twinge of something like guilt. Then I looked at Minh. She was smiling vibrantly, happy and full of life.

Returning to the bathroom, I pushed Minh all the way into the tub and flipped her onto her back. She was certainly dead. Her eyes had that half lidded, vacant look that you can’t fake. I love that look. She was still quite beautiful, even in death. Some would say even more so. Having figured out the camera the night before, I had no trouble getting a few close-ups. We had quite a photo shoot before I left. I posed her in every way my degraded mind could imagine. By the time I was done I had used up all the memory in that little camera and had taken over a hundred snapshots. I don’t usually take mementos from my kills, but then again, I don’t normally kill girls I know. I guess there’s an exception to every rule.