Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Family Misfortune
Author: Serum114
Keywords: Mf, ped, rape, anal, snuff

   Author's Email: SerumStories@gmail.com

   Family Misfortune

   Claire slipped her blue jeans from her skinny legs.  A nip of January
cold sent a shiver up her spine as she pulled up her pajama pants.  She
couldn't bring these to the sleepover, she told herself.  Cartoon puppies
are too immature for a 12 year old.  She knew the other girls would make
fun of her.  The young girl removed her top, leaving a white cotton
camisole.

   She moved to the mirror and lifted the sleeveless undergarment, baring
her small breasts.  This had been a daily ritual since she first noticed
them starting to bud.  She turned to the side and placed a hand over her
left nipple.  They were little more than bug bites, but they still made her
heart flutter with excitement.  She turned to the other side and gazed at
the small protuberance of flesh.  Soon, she thought.  Soon they would be
big enough to need a bra.  She smiled at herself, and was instantly
reminded of her mouthful of braces.  They be off soon, she thought with
unshakably high spirits.

   She covered her breasts and went to her backpack.  Math homework waited,
and she didn't want to give her mother any reason to ground her this
weekend.  So, she opened her book and started on the first problem.

   The man waited silently, patiently, like a monk in prayer.  Eight hours
he'd been in the closet, surrounded by the girl's clothes and scent.  He'd
watched her through the slats of her closet door as she undressed and began
her homework.  Not long now, he thought, his cock a lead pipe in his pants.


   Claire scratched her head in thought.  "I hate word problems," she
muttered to herself before rereading the question.  She struggled with the
last problem for a few minutes before finally giving up.  One problem
wouldn't keep her from the sleepover on Friday, so she closed her book and
put it back into her bag.  She looked at her phone, responded to a few
texts, and decided to go to sleep.

   The man licked his lips as the girl closed her bedroom door and got into
bed.  She turned off her bedside lamp and pulled her covers under her chin.
15 minutes later, she was out, snoring weakly.  He opened the closet door
and slowly left the girl's room.

   The mother and father had gone to bed early.  Before the man had hidden
in the child's closet, he'd spiked the bottle of wine they kept in the
refrigerator.  He knew they'd partake, just like he knew little Claire
would walk through the front door at 2:45.  He'd been watching.

   The man walked to the master bedroom, and pulled two steak knives from
his pocket.  He'd pulled the knives from the butchers block in the kitchen.
No one had noticed them missing.  He opened the bedroom door and crept
inside.  The parents lay in a deep sleep, oblivious to the intruder.  The
woman lay with her head back, her slender neck presented to the man.

   The headboard was a few feet away from the wall, allowing the man to
move behind the bed and stand directly over the couple.  The intruder took
a knife into each hand, and positioned them over their throats.  He raised
the blades over his head and slowly practiced the simultaneous strikes. 
He'd aim to open the jugular and windpipe.  He needed their deaths to be
silent.

   He readied the blades, took a deep breath, and executed his attack.

   Perfection.

   Both victims opened their eyes as blood filled their throats.  Their
screams were wet gurgles as blood pulsed from their wounds.  The murderer
struck both again before they could offer any resistance.  The father
grabbed his throat, nearly losing a finger as the blade entered him for a
third time.  The woman, a spitting image of her daughter, tried to flee,
but collapsed before she could stand.

   She died first.  The assailant watched the last spurt of blood shoot
through the father's fingers.  He died with his eyes open, staring forever
at the face of the man that destroyed his world.

   The man entered the bathroom and hastily washed the blood from his hands
and face.  He was ready to take the girl.  His cock ached and his heart
pounded as he walked down the narrow hallway.  He pulled out a black,
folding knife and opened it up.

   Claire slept silently as the man entered her room.  He stood at the foot
of her bed, breathing heavily, watching the slow rise and fall of the
blanket.  The man savored the moment, wondering how the child was going to
react.  Of course there will be screams.  She'll probably even piss
herself. Would she fight?  Would she flee?  Would she, god forbid, shit
herself?

   He was ready to make his move.

   The man took a deep breath and jumped the girl.  He straddled the girl's
chest, his knees forcing her forearms against the bed.

   She screamed.

   The man grabbed her hair and put the knife to her throat.  "Cry for me,
little girl!" He growled into her face.

   Claire continued screaming, and started kicking at the air.  She tried
to wrench her arms free, but the man was too heavy.  "Help!  Mom!  Dad!"

   The man pressed the tip of the blade against her throat, summoning a
drop of blood.  It traveled slowly down her neck, finally absorbed into her
camisole.

   The girl's screams got more erratic as the pain hit her.

   The man squeezed her hair tight and forced her head firmly against the
bed.  The noise rattled his body, but he needn't worry about the girl's
screams.  This was a rural area, the nearest house wouldn't have heard the
Saint Valentine's Day Massacre going down in the terrified girl's room.  He
loved the shrieks, the desperate and inarticulate pleas for help.

   The man pulled the blanket from between them and threw it to the floor.
His cock pressed firmly against the girl's flat chest.  He moved his face
to the girl's neck, and licked up the narrow trail of blood.  "Stop
fighting!" He shouted into the girl's ear.

   The girl continued to squirm, hoping to break free.

   "Stop fighting, or I'll cut your fucking throat!" The man placed the
blade back against the girl's slender neck.

   Claire stopped fighting, and closed her eyes.  She began to sob as the
man pulled the knife away.  She knew her dad would come in any second now.
He had to have heard her screaming.

   The man sat up and closed his knife.  "That's a good girl," he said,
sliding the knife into his back pocket.  He licked his lips and began
fondling the child's chest.

   As the man pawed her body, Claire began to pray.  She begged for God's
help, and bargained with everything she had.

   The child's breasts were so small and soft in the man's large hands.  He
rubbed her harder, feeling ribs and her heart pounding.  The man knew he
had to see them.  He needed to taste them.

   The girl's shirt split with a loud rip.  Claire whimpered as her budding
breasts met the cold air and colder gaze of her attacker.  The man bent and
took the left nipple into his mouth.  He sucked it and flicked it with his
tongue.  It began to harden between his wet lips.

   He unzipped his pants.

   At the sound, fight erupted in the girl.  She wasn't going to lie their
while this monster raped her.  She'd fight with everything sheThe room spun
and her vision blurred.

   The man punched her again, this time over the other eye.  He wrapped his
hands around her neck.  "What did I tell you!?" He squeezed, instantly
reddening the child's face.  Her eyes swelled and blood trickled from her
left brow.

   He released the girl to the sound of a gasping cry.  The man moved down
the child's body and pulled her pajama pants down past her knees.  He tore
her panties off, and pulled his aching cock free.

   He lay on the girl, taking one of her wrists into each hand.  The man
moved his cock, slick with precum, against the preteen's virgin cleft.  He
swallowed hard and thrust inside her.

   Claire had never felt such pain.  It felt like she was being torn in
two. Each time the man bucked against her, the pain increased and emanated
from deeper inside her.  Her stomach turned.  She started to go limp.  She
couldn't scream, she couldn't cry.  Everything started to lose focus.

   The man continued ravaging the child.  Blood had well lubricated the
man's cock as he bottomed out against her cervix.  Her sudden silence was
something he'd seen before.  She was frozen in fear.  The man released the
girl's hands and fondled her chest.  He could feel the pounding of her
heart.

   As he neared orgasm, he leaned to whisper in her ear.  "You love it," he
laughed.  "You fucking love it."

   The man began to ejaculate.  Several powerful, pent up jets of semen
erupted into the girl.  He groaned, staring into his victim's largely
emotionless eyes.  His body shook and weakened before he finally collapsed
onto the girl.

   The man lay, catching his breath as the child remained pinned beneath
him.  After a few minutes of panting, he rose.  His largely deflated cock
exited the child with a wet plop.  The man rolled away and watched a pink
mixture of blood and semen ooze onto the sheets.  He stood and pulled the
pants from around her ankles and tore the legs off.  He threw her torn
panties and camisole to the floor.

   During her savage assault, Claire was all but oblivious.  She could see
the man's eyes, but didn't know what was happening.  It all felt like a
dream.  She could hear nothing, and all attempts at movement failed.  Time
stopped.

   When reality returned, she lay on her stomach, her hands bound behind
her.  The pain hit her a moment later.  It was excruciating, and she let
out a desperate cry.  She couldn't see the man, and she tried to get up. 
Her ankles were bound as well.  "Help!" She screamed, a second wave of
fight bubbling up inside her.  She rolled onto her back.  She screamed
again in pain.  It felt like a bomb had gone off inside her.

   Suddenly the man was standing over her, his penis erect and smeared with
blood.  Her blood.

   The man forced her from the bed and balanced her on her feet.  Claire
felt moisture drip between her legs and stream down her thighs.  She
wobbled like a penguin as the man forced her from her room.  In the
hallway, she looked toward her mom and dad's room.  The door was open and
the light was on.

   "Mom!  Dad!" She screamed, hoping against hope that they could still
save her.  "Help!" She cried.

   When she finally entered the room, her knees gave out.  There was so
much blood.

   The man caught the child before she hit the floor, and pushed her onto
the bed.  She screamed so exquisitely loud and with such anguish, that it
seemed the windows might shatter.  The girl landed face up between the
corpses of her mother and father.  Her eyes clinched as she continued to
scream.  "There's no hope for you now, little girl.  There never was!"

   The man watched as the girl twisted on the bed.  Her spasms only serving
to smear her thin body with blood.  The man looked at the mother.  An
attractive woman, he thought.  She was about 35, healthy looking, and
sporting a nice set of tits.  The blood had soaked her shirt, giving a
clear impression of her chest.  Not too big and not too small.  "Just
right," the man said moving to the side of the bed.

   He pulled out his knife and sliced open the dead woman's shirt.  Her
natural breasts fell free.  The man took the left into his hand and kneaded
it.  She was still warm and the breast was as firm as a teenagers.  For a
moment, he wished he'd spared her.  For the weeks he'd been staking the
girl out, he never noticed how beautiful her mother was.  Oh well, he
thought as he pulled down the woman's pants and panties.

   Claire was beside herself.  It was when she saw her parents that she
knew she was going to die.  She didn't want to die.  She was only 12.  As
she lay, crying, desperately trying to free herself, she prayed that it
wouldn't be too excruciating.

   Something pulled at her feet.  She fell to the floor with a painful
thud.

   "Get up here," the man said lifting her to her knees at the foot of the
bed.  Before her tear blurred eyes was something she didn't recognize.  The
man grabbed her hair and forced her head down.  Claire felt rough, wet hair
against her face and her nostrils were filled with the smell of urine. 
"Lick her!" The man ordered.

   Her head snapped back and she knew what she was seeing.  She wanted to
vomit.

   "Eat mommy's cunt," he said with a laugh, before forcing the girl's face
back into her dead mother's crotch.  Claire could feel hairs tickling the
inside of her nose as the man moved her face up and down over the loose
labial lips.  "Stick out your tongue," the man ordered, gripping her hair
tighter.

   Claire refused.  He could kill her if he wanted, but she wouldn't defile
her mother.

   The girl's defiance angered the man.  He shouted, threatened, and hit
the girl.  Nothing worked.  "You don't want to do as you're told?  Fine!"
The man pressed his cock against the squirming girl's anus.  He forced
himself inside in an explosion of hate and anger.

   The child's cries were muffled by her dead mother's pussy.

   The man pounded into the girl's ass like a piston greased with preteen
blood.  He relished this child's suffering cries almost as much as loved
the pleasant tightness of her sphincter.  The man grabbed Claire's wrists
and pulled her toward him with each fevered plunge.  The girl's face
repeatedly bounced on her mother's hairy crotch like a dribbled basketball.

   For several minutes, the man tore into 12 year old Claire.  There was no
dissociation this time.  The girl knew exactly what was happening and could
feel every painful inch of the man's cock.  She kept her eyes closed tight
against the sight of her mother.  That's not how she wanted to see her. 
She tried to summon her face, but could only picture her open throat and
spread legs.

   She heard a pop.  The pain of the rape was instantly dwarfed by what
felt like her right arm being torn off.  She screamed even louder.

   The man laughed when her shoulder burst from its socket.  Due to the
pain, Claire's ass clenched even tighter, quickly sending the man nearer to
another orgasm.  He twisted her shoulder and gritted his teeth.  The
child's screams would be the perfect accompaniment to his forceful
ejaculation.

   Claire vomited as the man twisted her shoulder.  Her mother's roast beef
burned her throat and nostrils.  She coughed and cried as the pain
increased.

   The man unsheathed his knife and pulled little Claire's head back.  "You
ready to die CUNT!" He snarled into her ear.

   The girl clenched her eyes.  She felt cold steal against her throat as
the man's thrusts reached a crescendo.  "Please, please, please," she
muttered.  There was a feeling of intense pressure in her neck, and then a
sharp pain.  She felt warmth streaming down her chest, like the water of a
hot shower.  Thick liquid filled her throat.  She coughed, the metallic
taste of blood filling her mouth.

   Her fear faded, and she allowed herself death's peaceful sleep.


   Please Email me with any comments SerumStories@gmail.com