1. Ahriman: The Evolution of a Serial Killer 17


    Date: 8/19/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Fisting, Hardcore, Horror, Murder, Slavery, Spanking, Violence, Written by women, Author: gl0771, Rating: 75, Source: sexstories.com

    years, he'd had whores attempt to hurt him or Kaneez as the drug wore off, but, of course, he had secured them enough that the worst that had ever happened was being spit on. That actually happened a lot at the beginning, but the beatings he administered immediately afterwards usually stopped the spitting after the first time. Most couldn't even open their mouths after he was finished with them. He walked around the whores, staring at the cuts and welts and bruises, his grin growing with each circuit. He stopped in front of the blonde whore. "Beg me to let you go," he said, yanking her head up by her hair. "Beg me to let you live." "Please, sir," she whined, and he growled at the irritating sound. "Please let us go. Please don't kill us." He snarled at her and slapped her across the face, splitting her already cut lip. "Look around you, whore. I know you're stupid, but you do know what lines these walls, right? Why should I let you go when Chernobog demands your black soul?" She shook her head, sobbing, not saying anything. He struck her again. "Tell me! Tell me why I should let you go!" "I have a son," she whispered. "He needs me." White-hot rage filled him when he thought of this whore giving birth to a precious child. "He needs someone who will take care of him," he sneered. "If you are gone, he will find a good family who will give him everything he needs. Where he won't be hurt or whored out to your men." She stared at him. "I would never do that!" she insisted. "My ...
    mother watches him when I'm working!" He punched her in the stomach, and she gasped. "Working?! You mean fucking anything that moves! That's not working! That's whoring! Your son is better off without you! Just as I am better off without her!" He stabbed his finger at Mother, but the whore didn't look. She knew who was in that drum. The fact that some of the whores had children always caused his blood to boil, and he began pummeling her, pounding his fists into her face, her ribs, her stomach. When he stopped, she was sucking in wheezing breaths as she tried to force air into her bruised lungs. He was breathing hard, but his anger was still overpowering, and he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He walked to the bottom of the stairs and clenched his fists, feeling the pain of his split knuckles. "Dasa!" he yelled up the stairs before opening the door to the servants' room. Within seconds, Dasa raced down the stairs and dropped to the floor at his feet. He gritted his teeth, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her into the room. She stumbled along behind him, and he quickly tied her wrists together and strung her up. He let her dangle, being too angry to bother tying her feet to the floor. He grabbed the short whip off the wall and, in the same motion of turning toward her, brought it down on her body. He didn't even notice where it landed, and he didn't care. Her scream pounded in his brain, and an evil grin crossed his face. He brought the ...