Last Gasp 2: Descent

Chapter One – Wet Dreams and Memories

I watched as my simulacrum fucked Claire Prescott to death.

My image cried out and came, filling Claire’s mouth and covering her lower face in semen, causing her to gag and choke. I loved that sound she made: her desperate gurgling as she drowned.

I could hear the snap of her neck breaking on the video.

I froze the video on Claire’s last look. It was love for me. It must have been. She looked so sexy there, at the last gasp of her life.

Oh, how I longed for the pleasures of that night, two weeks past. It had been beautiful. Perfect for snuffing.

Just like tonight.

But Claire Prescott, my love, was gone and here I was with her only remaining daughter throated on my cock.

The suction on my cock grew more intense. Spit trickled out between Hannah’s lips and my cock, wetting my balls. The young blonde was near the edge, but she didn’t struggle. I think she was hoping I’d go all the way with her, this time.

I pulled her off before she passed out. She retched and more saliva poured from her lips. Her tits hung down, deliciously.

Hannah Prescott was fifteen years old, with shoulder-length blonde hair and pretty green eyes, a slender frame with perfect tits. I had taken her two weeks ago, along with her mother, Claire, and sister, Heather. Only she had survived my ministrations for this long, mostly because I had taken no other women in the past two weeks. Eventually, I would get around to sending Hannah to the great beyond to join her mother and sister.

I gave Hannah’s tits a good squeeze. They were the equal of any girl five years older than her. My hand went back to the young girl’s hair and I tangled my fingers in it, shook her hard.

“What do you want?” I asked her. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, bitch!”

“Take me and fuck me,” the blonde girl said. “Fill me. Use me and break me. Hurt me and snuff me.”

I pulled her up until her face was close to mine. Her breasts shook. Her breath hissed between her lips.

“More,” I said. “Tell me more, baby.”

“Rape me. Fill me. Come on me and kill me,” she whispered.

I grabbed her by the neck and squeezed.

“Snap me. Trash me and fuck me. Jizz me,” she chanted, her voice rising in pitch. “Come on, just fucking kill me!”

“I think you want me to do that, little clit. You want me to end you. Maybe you’d even get off on it.”

I squeezed harder. Her voice seeped out.

“You’d like it, too,” she cooed.

Her submission to my will had been swift, since her mother’s murder. I had tamed her. But then, she had always been submissive. She was one of those girls who would never retaliate against anything.

I thrust her back down on my cock and skullfucked her. I pushed her head down with my left hand, while I opened my nightstand drawer with my right.

I withdrew the twist of Claire’s auburn hair. She had such beautiful hair. That was what had drawn me to her in the first place. I smelled it. It still held her scent. It was almost two feet long. Long enough to strangle a woman, although I hadn’t used it for such. At least, not since Claire, herself.

I decided that I would use it on Hannah. Someday.

I let Hannah up and she gasped, spit drooling from her lips and onto my cock like a warm shower.

I took a small, plain box from the drawer. Inside were two emerald earrings and three finger rings. I took the diamond wedding ring and placed it on Hannah’s finger.

“So, do you think you married me, now?” she asked. “Or do you just want a bigger thrill by making me think about how you murdered my mother? Jesus Christ, you watch her tape every fucking night! How could I fucking forget it? You’re a joke! A sick fucking joke!”

I looked at her, enraged. This was submission?

My backhand knocked her to the foot of the bed. I grabbed her ring-gag and wound it around her head, fitted it between her teeth.

I sat on her head and shoved my cock down her throat. Ruthlessly, I fucked her, pausing only to smack her face every other stroke or so. Deep and hard, I pressed into her, feeling her tight throat, as I tried to ram straight through her head and into her brain. I took her roughly, working her slutty young throat for long, hard minutes of excruciating abuse. She spit out saliva and it collected on her bright red face.

I pulled out of her throat.

“Mercy…” the single word bubbled out, twisted by the ring-gag.

I flipped her onto her hands and knees, got behind her and pulled her up to me. I caught her in a sleeper hold, one arm across her throat, the other behind her blonde head. She struggled as I choked her, but eventually went limp and dropped from my grasp.

I twisted her around, held her unconscious body up and fucked her slack throat, as I squeezed her neck and head. I came hard, crushing her head to my groin as I pumped my semen down Hannah’s throat.

It didn’t matter where it ended up. She could drown for all I cared.

I got up and turned off the video of Claire’s snuffing.

On the news there was a report: Congressional hopeful’s family missing for two weeks. Are they still alive?

“Not all of them,” I muttered.

That was Hannah’s family. Her father was the hopeful congressman-to-be.

I watched the report. The sheriff was being interviewed. From the sound of his report, he was still following leads. Of course, it was hard to trust what was on television. As a rule, cops didn’t give any useful information out to the media. But, if I was reading him right, he didn’t have anything. Yet.

Beside him were two suits. FBI. They must be. One was a woman.

I paused the picture on my DVR and stared at her. Blonde. Early thirties. Nice, athletic legs. Muscular arms. A fine chest, from what I could see. Strong face with a serious look. Strange eyes…

I stepped up to her image for a closer look.

The right eye was deep blue, almost a violet color. But the left eye… it was a brilliant green, harsh and piercing. Fascinating. Heterochromia. I had seen it before, but never in such beautiful and rare colors.

And that look… this beauty’s eyes showed she had seen some things. Jaded eyes. Desirous eyes. Sadistic eyes.

I knew that look. I saw it every time I looked in the mirror. Others might not know it or acknowledge it, but I knew.

I also knew why she was here. She was the one they expected to catch me with. My nemesis. With eyes like those, steeped in darkness, she had to be a criminal profiler. One of the best and brightest.

A question crossed my mind. Abort or go?

I already had my targets marked for tonight, but it was risky. I pondered the thought for a moment. Finally, I decided that I would go tonight, if possible. I certainly didn’t want to get caught, but I felt the intense need for some new blood.

I pulled Hannah up by the hair and felt her chest. Her heart was still beating. I dragged her unconscious body back to my Chamber.

A serious assfucking would teach her some manners.

Chapter Two – Invasion of the Body Snatcher

I checked my watch: 2:31 A.M. It was the time when the whole world seemed asleep.

I had lain in wait for several hours, anticipation and desire burning my chest. Over an hour ago, the last light had gone out in the Lincoln house. I had nearly gone in a dozen times since then. But I had forced myself to wait. Now, the waiting was over.

I moved through the darkness like a wraith. Barely a sliver of the moon was in the sky and I doubted that anyone could catch a glimpse of me in such a dim glow.

I approached the house.

No floodlights. Probably couldn’t sleep well with them on. I knew I couldn’t.

My previous examination of the residence had revealed a basic security system that was simple enough to bypass with my expertise. That was rather foolish for a woman alone with a teenage daughter, but no one had ever accused lawyers of being intelligent.

Jessica Lincoln and her daughter, Abigail. I had watched them for several days, shadowed their movements. The mother was a partner at a local law firm, specializing in family law: adoptions, divorces and such. The daughter went to an all-girls private school.

Which probably meant that she was ready, willing and untouched.

I smiled tightly, as I shut the system down. I turned my attention to the door. With a click, it opened. I slid inside, quickly. Closed the door.

I felt a thrilling rush of adrenalin, and the sensation of curiosity that always accompanied such infiltrations. Who were these people? What were their lives like? I walked past photos too dim to see in the dark.

Unable to control myself, I removed a small flashlight from my pocket and shined it on the pictures. My mind tried to categorize: a doting father, a good-looking mother, a husband, probably, and then: a photo of the mother and daughter. The mother, Jess, was dark of hair and eye. The daughter, Abby, had a lighter shade of brown and brown eyes.

They made a cute pair, one that I planned on taking full enjoyment from.

I removed the picture from the frame and pocked it.

I took out an aerosol spray. It was a little toy that I had employed in my previous vocation. It was filled with a compound that would knock the victim unconscious in just a few seconds.

I proceeded upstairs.

Four rooms, three with closed doors. I glanced into the fourth door. It was a bathroom.

The next I opened, as silently as possible. A girl’s room; the wall was covered in posters of movie stars, music bands and models. There was a desk and a computer; a dresser with open drawers and clothes hanging off, and… a teen-age girl huddled in the bed.

I stepped up to her. Her brown hair and cute face made me want to climb right in with her. It would be the dumbest of mistakes, but it was a fantasy of mine to rape a girl in her own house and bed. But I wasn’t fully prepared for that, yet. I sprayed her face with the aerosol. She inhaled deeply, stifled a sneeze. Her breathing grew deeper still.

I smiled. She wouldn’t wake for several hours.

On impulse, I pulled back the covers. The girl wore a t-shirt and trim panties. She had slim legs and a shapely bosom for a girl her age. She reminded me of Hannah, different coloring, but a very similar body type.