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Introduction:

This is one of the two stories that happened prior to 'Her Fantasy - Ambush' I recommend you read the original first, because you may not understand the characters as well. But you're free to read it without reading the others. This happens before 'The Investigation - Nameless Killer'. Anything in italics is what happened during the actual event, and anything in normal style is what's happening in the present-tense of the story. Constructive comments are welcome. :)
The Investigation - Caroline Ann


This story is a prequel to 'Her Fantasy - Ambush', I have written a second part to this that will connect the two stories if you want me to.

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Detective Midnight stood next to the police officer. He had been called down here because something was puzzling them about a murder investigation, and he was the one who always caught the bad guy. He was a genius, and even at his age he worked dangerous jobs.

“Well, I’m not here for nothing.” He turned to the police officer, who frowned and nodded. Detective Midnight put on his Sherlock Homes hat that he adored so much and followed the young police officer, who was now leading him to the scene of the crime. There were ten police cars outside the home, all sirens flashing. From the looks of it most all the police officers were outside, and his escort nodded to one of them and lifted the ‘Caution - Crime Scene Tape’, and let him go under it.

He was led into the house. It was more of a mansion, or palace, than a house - opulent flooring, luxurious furniture, and vast rooms. The detective followed the police, through the dining room, kitchen… up the stairs, he noticed shattered pictures all over the stairs, and stepped carefully over the glass. Finally the police officer led him into the bedroom.

One other lady stood there. She nodded to him, they had met before. She was Agent Ann.

“I assume a top secret highly classified mission again, Agent?” He smiled. His distinctively remembered her saying on their last operation together that she was only assigned to the most important tasks. He looked at her.

“Her name was Caroline Ann.” The police person said before walking out, leaving the detective and agent alone.

Her voice was cold, calculated, and dark, “The murdered girl is my sister.” And Detective Midnight glanced at the bed. The pillows were torn, feathers covered the floor. The bed was unmade, as if it had been used recently, and on top of it all was a young girl, around fifteen or sixteen, with an adorable young body. He could tell because she was stripped. He closed his eyes, imagining what the scene would have been like…

Caroline Ann screamed with pain, but her screams couldn’t be heard because her captor had covered her mouth. Her strait brown hair was tangled as she struggled, but he overpowered her. He tossed her on the bed, like a toy, and climbed on top of her. He didn’t bother wasting time pleasuring her, and proceeded to relieve his hard-on with her young pussy.

“She was a virgin.” Agent Ann looked like she would cry. He could understand because he knew that his job took him places, and the same would be for her. She worked for the government, and barely had any free time with her family. Because of it she had never married. Her sister was probably the closest family she had.

He turned back to the dead girl. White gobs of what looked like sperm were all around and in her vagina. He walked up to her, inspected her adorable, sexy body closer. Her breasts were perk, and small, enough to fit into a hand snugly. Her stomach was flat, and her skin was slightly tanned. He could see the tan line between her panties and the rest of her, and he concluded that she probably laid at the beach or in her backyard naked a lot. Her legs were long, and smooth. He barely ran his hand along her leg, trying to picture what she had gone through. He had no urges; he had long since overcome those. He examined her thoroughly, to her moist, red lips to her worn feet, he saw everything, and he tried to put together what had happened that night.

Her nails dug into his back as he fucked her, and she let out screams of agony at each individual thrust. Her feet dangled off the bed, barely. Her feet were cut and bruised, probably from running…

He looked at her vagina closer, curious. Agent Ann paced, nervous that he was looking at her sister’s private places, but she didn’t say anything. Detective Midnight frowned again, there were plenty of things wrong with the scene.

“Whose sperm is that?” He said, indicating the cum around the body. Agent Ann swallowed, he could tell she was nervous. She was never nervous.

“It belongs to an Aaron Heart. According to records he died two years ago, in a car accident at age fifteen. He was drunk driving. The body was recovered, and according to blood type and dental records it’s him.” He frowned again, another weird thing with the scene.

“Cause of our victim’s death?” The detective closed his eyes, trying to picture the scene again. He failed to do so. He needed more evidence before he could again.

“She stopped breathing, her heart stopped… I think he fucked her to death.” Each word was a struggle for Agent Ann to say, and he could tell by her voice that she was near tears. He wanted to tell her to leave and rest, but he knew she wouldn’t and it would only make matters worse.

He looked at the body again, making sure he was right before speaking again, “I don’t think it was rape. At least, not at first… I think she wanted it at first.”

“Of course it was! She would never let a stranger have sex with her.” The agent had trouble handling the facts, and Detective Midnight knew he should send her away before she got into trouble, whether it was with him or with the facts that the crime scene had provided him.

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

“Well… yes… but I don’t think he raped her! He’s a nice boy, really sweet, and cute. They’ve been dating for months now.” Her voice was fragile, and she sounded so defensive. He knew that the case was too emotional for her and that he should get her away from it all - but he couldn’t. It would break their trust, and it would just be mean to take her away from finding her sister’s killer.

“So you’ve met him?”

“Yes.” She nodded, remembering the nice boy. He had spoken so kindly to her, and he had also talked honestly about his feelings for Caroline.

“Call him.”

“What…?” She was confused, but pulled out her cell phone anyway and punched in the numbers. It rang out, there was no pickup, and she spoke, “He could be doing something.”

The detective ignored that, all he needed to know was that the boy didn’t pick up. He could be doing something, he could have raped her, or something else could have happened, something that the detective found more likely.

“Anywhere on this property you didn’t search?” The detective frowned. He had an idea of what had happened, and he hoped that he was right. He turned to the agent, done inspecting the young girl’s body.

“The warrant we got didn’t cover the neighbor’s house, only this one. The neighbors reported it. Also, there’s one room in this house we aren’t allowed to search because it’s actually on the neighbor’s property - the young couple that live here were out of town, and the new room was installed illegally, and the neighbors are trying to get it out.” Her phone rang, and she answered it. He nodded to her, and walked out, leaving her to her business.

The neighbor’s had a fine house, and he could see the small extension of the mansion onto their property. He walked up to the door and rung the door bell. This house was a lot older and its owners were wealthy. He could tell because of all the golden and silver items viewable even from the door, and a solid marble statue of a Greek Goddess, Aphrodite.

A nice old lady came up to the door and answered it, “Why hello there. Who’re you?” She seemed kindly, and he hoped she would cooperate before he had to use threats, "I'm Miss Oswald."

“I’m a detective; I’m investigating a murder next door.”

“Oh… that! I remember! I made the phone call! I heard lots of screams, and when you hear screaming you just know you have to call the police. It turns out something was wrong. It’s a shame to hear what happened to that girl.” The old lady frowned, her glasses speckled in the sunlight, “Why are you here? Didn’t the murder happen there?” She looked confused, but he had his suspicions it was an act. He wasn’t sure why.

“Actually I think something might have happened on your property too. You know the extension from your neighbor’s home?” Of course she knew. She nodded, and he continued, “It’s not included in the warrant, so could you let me in to see it?”

“I seem to have misplaced the key.” She responded quickly. It sounded too rehearsed, too phony.

“If it turns out there was evidence there you’ll be arrested for Obstruction of Justice, Hindering an Investigation, and you’ll be charged as an accomplice to the murderer.” She looked dizzy, confused again, slightly oblivious to the world. He looked at her, “Miss, are you alright?”

Then she fainted.

He leaned down next to her, wondering if he had caused her to faint. For all he knew he could be charged now because of this incident. He groaned, closed the door, and turned around to walk away. He would just let her say what she wanted, but nobody would know he had been here.

Agent Ann came running, holding in her hand a paper. She handed him the paper. He read the top of it, “Warrant for the search of…” Typical, just typical - he swore. Agent Ann looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t respond.

“We’ll check the extension now.” He cut across the neighbor’s lawn to the extension on their property, and checked the door. It was locked. The warrant gave him permission to use force, and so he kicked down the door. There was a crack of wood, and the door collapsed. Him and Agent Ann stepped over the door, and were chilled to the bone to see the sight before them.

A young, blonde haired boy lay slumped up against the wall, his head tilted at an awkward angle on his chest. He was naked, except for a pair of boxers, and his body was very handsome. His chest was well built, his arms were muscular too. He leaned up against the wall, his boxers half lowered and his pubic hair showing. His legs were only a little hairy and they lay out in front of him. There was a bed in the room, overturned. Pillows scattered the ground, a drawer was turned on its side, the contents spilling out. Agent Ann walked over to the boy, looking somewhat shocked. She leaned down next to him, saw a thin trail of drool on his chin and drool on the pillow next to him, as well as an imprint in the pillow. He had been smothered. She touched his chest barely, and pulled down his boxers and looked at his limp penis. She carefully pulled off a condom, and turned to the detective.

She gestured to the body, “That’s Caroline’s boyfriend. His name was Nick... he was only sixteen.” She held up the condom, “It looks like they were going to have sex, but there’s no sperm. They never got around to it.”

The detective waved around the room, “They were attacked.” He had a clear visual now, and he pictured the room as it had been, before the attack. He imagined it all, the boy, the girl, and their mysterious attacker.

The blonde boy, Nick, looked at his beautiful girlfriend lying on the bed. They both smiled. She had called him and had her meet him here; she had told him she was ready. Oh, he had loved hearing that. He had waited so long, courted her so long, and dated her so long - he was so glad that he could finally take her for himself. He got up next to her on the bed and laid next to her, sideways, not exactly sure how to continue.

Her eyes flashed, she grinned.

She snuggled up into him, and slipped her hands underneath his shirt. She pulled it off, touching his body as much as she could in the process. She loved his body, his face. Her hands felt over his strong abs, tracing icy fingers over each individual muscle, and wandering up over his strong neck and gorgeous face. His shirt off, he leaned in to her and kissed her lightly on the lips. For the next few minutes they played around, touching each other gently and lightly, and kissing playfully.

Then he touched her in a way he hadn’t ever before. The touch was long; he kept his hand on her, not wanting to move it - but that wasn’t the only thing. Then he brushed his lips over her ear and whispered the words she had been longing to hear ever since they started dating. It touched her heart, and made her heart pound faster.

They both knew it was true.

With the words said, passion overcame play, and it heated up. The touches became longer, more affectionate, and he began caressing her more than he ever had, with both his lips and hands. Caroline giggled; she was so happy that this was happening. He loved her, and he was all hers. She touched her hand to the lump rising from his shorts, and he practically jumped. It was as if he hadn’t noticed it, but after her touch he grinded it into her through the barriers. She didn’t know why, she had never done it before, but she arched back into him to meet him.

“Ugh… it hurts.” Nick groaned, referring to the erection, but continued to kiss her. He slipped his hands along her sexy tank top, and helped her out of it. He stared at her bra, wishing for it to be gone, just like she now wished for his pants to be gone. They both felt hungers, and they both wanted them satisfied.

Long moments passed, and at the same time her hands eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his thumb had managed to undo her bra strap. She yanked down his pants; he slipped off her bra and threw it aside, wanting her so badly. Without even the slightest hesitation, her hand slipped into his boxers and grabbed his dick. It was a large dick for his age, seven inches of throbbing, swollen, meaty cock - and relatively thick. It was something that he was proud of, but had never been able to put to use. She gently kissed it on the tip, letting her tongue dance around it for an instant.

He had been about to touch her small breasts but when she licked his penis - he groaned. He grinded it against her face, and her hands tightened around it. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. There was no speaking necessary; they knew exactly what the other one wanted. They had done this before on many occasions.

She placed it in her mouth, and moved on to suck on it gently. If she had learned one thing about sex from him, it was how to suck a boy’s cock. They had been doing it since almost a month after they started dating, but it hadn’t got much farther than that. She sucked on it gently, but increasingly harder as he forced her to take more of it into her mouth. She took it, stopping when it reached the back of her throat. He resisted the urge to force more in, as not to hurt her or make her do anything she didn’t want.

Suddenly he felt her cool, icy hands on his ass, stroking it softly and pulling it in to her face, easing her to take more of it in. She licked up and down the throbbing shaft and closed her moist, red lips tightly around it. He groaned with pleasure, still restrained from forcing her to take more, and whispered dirty things to her, exciting them both.

One of her hands stayed on his butt, stroking it with her fingertips and even a little of her fingernails, and her other delicately massaged his balls. He swore again at the wonderful pleasure, unbelieving that she had improved so much and learned so much during their time together. He was proud of her, and proud to have her for his girlfriend. His cock was rock hard now, purple from the amount of blood, and he had to work to keep from releasing too early.

She licked up and down it again, paying careful attention to his cock’s sensitive underside. He massaged his balls more with her hands, alternating, and stroking his ass more. She had never done so many things at once, and he loved it - he wanted to cram all of his cock into her mouth and see what she did, but he couldn’t. He grabbed her shoulders as the pressure and excitement grew and grew.

He felt a clenching of his balls, and swore again before warning her, “Oh… baby… I’m… CUUUUMMMMIIINNNGG!!” He pushed his member farther into her throat and released. He shot three ropes of his cum into her mouth, and she swallowed most of it, she gagged on the cum and cock in her mouth, he pulled out his cock and they both watched the warm sperm drip to the floor. His cock shrunk, and he sighed contently. She didn't stop there, though, she wanted more. She touched him more, and within seconds his cock was once again, bulging. He got down next to her, pushed her down underneath him, and ripped off her panties. They were thin cotton, and tore easily. He threw them to the ground, and aligned his penis with her vagina.

He almost slid it in, but she stopped him with her words, “I’m not on the pill and we don’t have protection. I forgot to bring anything.” He reached down to his pants, which were now on the ground, and pulled a plastic bag out of one of the pockets. Inside it were a couple condoms. He pulled one out, and was putting it on his throbbing penis when she took his hands in hers, removed them, and put it on for him, touching his shaft with her ice-cold fingers as she did.

His hands grabbed her shoulders, and he looked at her seriously, “Are you sure you want to do this? I promise I’ll be gentle but it might hurt, and I don’t want this if you don’t.” He actually cared about her… He would give up the moment for her if she wanted.

Caroline smiled, touched by his concern, “Please do it. I told you I’m ready.”

“Ok.” He grinned, so pleased that she had told him he could, and started lowering himself into her. The feelings were exhilarating, in preparation of what they both yearned for.

A young voice spoke from behind them, “How touching.” Nick turned around, swore, and climbed off Caroline, pulling up his boxers. Neither of them had heard the door unlock and open, and neither knew who it was. Caroline was suddenly scared, Nick stood between her and the stranger protectively.

“Don’t worry,” the stranger spoke again, crystalline blue eyes sparkling, coal black hair covering half of his face in a mysterious look that terrified Caroline, “It isn’t because I hate you personally, but I’m going to have to kill you.”

“Leave her alone, bastard!” Nick tried to sound intimidating, but he was scared. Just as scared as Caroline, but he had to stay strong for her: He loved her.

“Cute,” The stranger raised a gun and pointed it to Caroline, “But I don’t think that you being strong will keep her alive any longer.” Nick was terrified for her now, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he wouldn’t let her be killed! Not if it was the last thing he did!

The stranger was powerful, smart, intelligent, and an expert at killing. But what happened next he didn’t exactly expect, and it was because of that Caroline escaped. Nick threw himself at the stranger, knocking the gun out of his hands, screaming - “RUN CAROLINE!!”

The stranger was only a couple years older than Nick, but he was much, much stronger. Nick punched him in the chest, but it had little effect. The stranger tried to grab him, but Nick ducked. As he ducked, the stranger’s boot met him in the chest, and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him. He tried to free himself, he kicked and tried to hit the stranger, but he couldn’t.

The stranger got down next to Nick, laughed coldly, watching him try to free himself. He couldn’t. With a horrible acknowledgement of that he would die now, Nick surrendered. The stranger chuckled again, grabbed a pillow, and smothered Nick, finding it amusing to listen to his ragged gasps and watch his flailing limbs as he tried one last time, to escape.


Detective Midnight looked past the struggles. The attacker had been busy smothering Caroline’s boyfriend, where had Caroline gone…? How had it all happened? How had she gotten back to the house?

She tripped as she ran, bruising her feet. Miss Oswald! She could help! The kindly neighbor would most surely take her in, and call the police for her! She raced up to the door and banged on it.

The detective saw where she had tripped; he followed her twisted path through the plants, marking where she had gone: Up to the door of her neighbor.

The lights were out, there was no response. She picked up a rock and chunked it in through the side window, not viewable from the front, so that the stranger couldn’t find it too easily.

He noticed glass on the ground, and followed it over to a side window. She had tried to get inside when the neighbor hadn’t answered… why didn’t the neighbor answer?

She had to get back to the phone in the house. She circled around to the front and opened the door. It was unlocked. She crept silently through the sleeping house - her parents were gone away, out of the country. She picked up the kitchen phone, looked around, and punched in 9-1-1.

He decided that she must have gone back to the house. He paced back to the house, nodded to the officers standing outside, and entered. He walked through the dining room into the kitchen, and he noticed the kitchen phone was gone. Perhaps she had tried to call for help?

Someone picked up on the first ring, “9-1-1 Emergency, what is your emergency?” She heard the door from the extension open, it had always made a creaking sound, and she heard footsteps. She ran into she ducked underneath the kitchen table just as the intruder entered the room.

She whispered urgently into the phone, “There’s someone in my house. He just killed my friend, hurry! Please. I’m scared…” she resisted the urge to cry and kept herself quiet, as to not alert the intruder to her presence.

The operator replied immediately, “Where are you? I’m sending help as soon as I can. Find a place to hide until the police arrive!” Caroline trembled; she had a horrible gut feeling…

She whispered back into the phone, “I’m at---” She stopped as she felt warm hands on her ankles, and she was dragged out from underneath the table from behind. She screamed and dropped the phone, desperately struggling to escape the intruder. But just like Nick, she couldn’t.


Detective Midnight found the kitchen phone underneath the table, and concluded that she had hidden there while she tried to call for help. It was broken. She must have dropped it… but why? The stranger must have startled her when he found her hiding there…

He pulled her slender body up against his chest, and whispered into her ear, “Nobody can help you now.” He licked her ear, and touched her naked body from behind. His arm slid around to cup her small, perk breasts alternately as he simultaneously kissed her soothingly along her neck. His fingertips brushed over her tips, and he squeezed them barely, making her eyes fill with tears and causing her to scream at the same time.

“Relax and I promise you it won’t hurt as badly as I can make it.” He held the relatively small girl in his arms, and carried her upstairs into the master bedroom, her flailing limbs ripping paintings hung along the walls off in her path. He tossed her on the bed, like a sack of potatoes, and climbed on top of her. He didn’t bother wasting time pleasuring her, and proceeded to strip down on top of her.


The detective walked back up the stairs, paying careful note to the broken pictures scattered along the floor. She had struggled, she hadn’t given up yet.

She saw that it was eight inches long and very, very thick. It was bigger than Nick’s. Nick! …he had been killed, most certainly. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t show weakness - Nick hadn’t. Nick had loved her… She wished that all of this had never happened. If she had never called him he wouldn’t have come! It was her fault he was dead!

He didn’t waste time pleasuring either her or himself, that wasn’t the purpose of all this. He carefully aligned his thick and long dick, and proceeded to thrust into her. He broke past her virginity, that she had wanted Nick so badly to take from her. This intruder, this rapist, this stranger didn’t deserve to have it; it belonged to the one who loved her.

Each thrust made her cry with agony, and struggle to get him off of her, but he wouldn’t budge. She dug her nails into his back each time he entered her, and she tried screaming for help many, many times. …Help that would never come. He kept thrusting into her for twenty long, agonizing minutes of sheer pleasure for him. Then he lifted up her fragile form, removed her from the partial comfort of the bed, and shoved her up against the wall, face first. She put out her arms to keep herself from hurting her head, but one of his hands slid along her bare back down to her tiny little ass. He squeezed her small butt; he pinched the cheeks and slapped them, turning them a pale pink. Then he shoved her ass up to the wall, and inserted his middle finger into her ass.

“Ahh… you feel nice.” He pulled his middle finger out, and offered it to her, “Lick it.” She felt queasy, but did as she was told. He touched her tenderly, sounding a little sympathetic, “I promise you that this isn’t because of you. You’re nice, but I have to kill you, and I have to kill you with my cock.” She whimpered, and he brushed his fingers over her face, brushing a couple stray hairs from her face, “Don’t be sad, I’ll make it go easy for you.”

He pulled out a thin tube of lotion, and smoothened some over his enormous cock. The contrast of sensations, the coolness of the lotion and the throbbing heat of his dick made him groan softly. He chuckled lightly, and then spread her ass cheeks with his hands and began to fuck her ass, slowly. He slid in and out slowly, as not to hurt her more than necessary. He found himself speeding up, and he didn’t try to stop himself.

He thrust harder and harder into her ass, she struggled again, and this time she managed to escape. She raced for the door, but he grabbed her by her hair. She tripped, but regardless of him grabbing her hair, she tried to get out of the room.

He frowned, and realized he should end it before she might actually escape. He closed the door and got down next to her. He began fucking her pussy again, on the floor, as she desperately reached for escape she could never have. She kept trying to reach it; she nearly wanted to die… anything to escape the pain and intrusion he was giving her. He picked her up again and threw her on the bed. She was limp, near dead, and her body was like a ragdoll.

He spread apart her legs again, and she made no resist this time. The pain was overwhelming her, making it near impossible to think, to speak. He thrust his rock hard dick in again, she simply twitched. He kept it there, wondering whether to cum or not. Deciding he’d rather not leave evidence that could be used against him behind, he pulled out a vial.

The vial was filled completely with a white fluid; cum he had collected years before, during his first killing. Ah… the memories were so strong. He emptied the fluid on and around her pussy, and thrust into her a couple more times to spread the cum around the inside. She twitched each time, and shuddered slightly. She was nearly gone. He knew.

He got over on top of her, suckled on a tit gently while one of his hands cupped the other breast. His final hand slid down to her ass, holding an ass cheek as he thrust into her a couple more times. Each one of these thrusts was rapid, going in farther than he had before. Her muscles were stretched and ripped from his cock, her vagina wasn’t capable of holding it - and especially with the minimal lubricant and intensity of each thrust. She couldn’t survive it. He forced himself into her, one more time, pushing up from her ass simultaneously as he did. She shuddered, and slowly, her body relaxed. He moved his mouth up from her tits to her lips and made out with her, she made no movement or response.

He kissed her lightly on her forehead, pulled his still throbbing dick out, and relieved himself into one of the pillowcases. He quickly dressed himself, in the process dropping the vial which slid underneath the bed. He walked out the door, taking one last look back at the young, adorable girl he had killed, before grabbing the pillowcase and walking down the stairs and out the door.


Detective Midnight didn’t know what to do from here. He was still left with questions: How had Aaron Heart’s sperm gotten on the body? Why didn’t Miss Oswald respond when Caroline knocked on the door and broke her window? How had the rapist gotten into the house extension?

Agent Ann got onto the floor and pulled out a vial from underneath the bed. She held it up, looking at the drops of cum inside of it. That solved one question: Aaron Heart's sperm had been placed there. He couldn’t find any more evidence from the crime scene because the remaining answers were with Miss Oswald.

Both he and Agent Ann made their way back to the old lady’s house, only to find her still on the floor, still fainted. Detective Midnight got down next to her; she had been fine before he had left…

“Look…” Agent Ann pointed to the lady’s dress. There was a scarlet stain in it, and a tear. Agent Ann pulled up the dress and looked - Miss Oswald had been stabbed sometime after her fainting. How had the police not noticed her being attacked?

The detective made his final conclusion, but it was all for nothing. Miss Oswald had given the unidentified killer the key to get into the extension, for whatever reason. She hadn’t answered the door when Caroline had come to it because she had planned for Caroline’s death. And lastly, she had been killed to tie up loose ends.

Somewhere in an airport, miles away: A young man of about eighteen boarded the plane and took his seat. He sat down next to a formal young woman that looked only a little bit older than him. She looked at him questioningly, and he nodded. She nodded back, approvingly. He ran his hand through his coal black hair and turned his gorgeous face and crystalline blue eyes to the woman next to him. They both smiled. He handed her the pillowcase to dispose of for him.


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Please try to be constructive, and if you have something insightful to say, please do. Yes mystery is my favorite genre and no I do not know how Detective Midnight knows everything - he's just that good.
10 comments

borotaReport 

2018-07-23 01:38:20
You tell only BULLSHIT!That girl COULDN'T HAVE BEEN "fucked to death"!Someone COULDN'T DIE just from one fucking,no matter how violent it is!When you write something,TRY TO BE A LITTLE PLAUSIBLE and not to tell NONSENSES!

borotaReport 

2018-07-23 01:35:48
You tell only BULLSHIT!That girl COULDN'T HAVE BEEN "fucked to death"!Someone COULDN'T DIE just from one fucking,no matter how violent it is!When you write something,TRY TO BE A LITTLE PLAUSIBLE and not to tell NONSENSES!

Karen~Report 

2011-11-30 01:17:47
I know, I'm a troubled person...

Karen~Report 

2011-11-30 01:16:57
I know, I'm a troubled person...

anonymous readerReport 

2011-08-14 20:17:05
This story is sick it made me throw up i didn't know it was goannna be that bad!

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