From: an138013@anon.penet.fi (Blackwind)
Reply-To: an138013@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: BLACKWIND: Unlucky #13(2/2)(mm,pedo,bd,rape,torture,snuff)
Date: Fri,  4 Aug 1995 04:14:36 UTC
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Message-ID: <042319Z04081995@anon.penet.fi>





     Contents: mm,pedo,bd,rape,torture,snuff.



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                Another Exciting Adult Text File From:

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                They said lightning only strikes once.



                          They were wrong.



              Where there's THUNDER... there's LIGHTNING!



     =============================================================

           WARNING: This text file contains material of an adult,

      explicit, and extremely VIOLENT sexual nature. If you are

      uncomfortable reading material of this kind, please delete

      this file immediately. Under no circumstances is this file

      to be read or poessessed by persons under 21  years of age.

     =============================================================



            ////////////////////////////////////////////////

               BBS Filename: Unlucky #13

               Lewdness Level: Extreme

               Classifiction: YoungStuff/Extreme Violence

            ////////////////////////////////////////////////



                         "UNLUCKY NUMBER 13"

                             By: Thunder



               Contributions and Editing By Sammy Smegma



                             Part 2 of 2



          Then he turned and scooped up Craig's pants, going

     through each pocket, dumping things out -- a cheap brown

     plastic wallet with raised tooling showing cowboy motifs,

     which he opened. "Two bucks and nineteen cents", the man

     muttered, pocketing the money. "Lot of money, eh, kid?" He

     pulled out Craig's library card next. "Craig Sommers, yeah,

     that's you!" That he tossed aside, and finally, Craig's "In

     Case of Emergency Notify" card. "Well now, this is

     pertinent, isn't it? Let's see, I guess I ought to call

     your Mom, Betty Sommers -- your Mom's name sucks, kid!", he

     bellowed, "and tell her little Craig's been kidnapped? Yeah,

     maybe I should!" He laughed and tossed that aside, as well.



          The last thing he took out was something Craig was

     proud of, a membership card to the Smile n' Sales Leadership

     Club. Craig had gotten it just before last Christmas. Smiles

     n' Sales was a Club that went door to door selling greeting

     cards; Craig had sold the most last Christmas and had won a

     $25 savings bond for his efforts. All that meant nothing

     now, as the man ripped the card in half and tossed it to the

     floor.



          "Sure got a lot of junk in here, kid", he muttered.

     "Worse than me."



          Shoving his hand into another pocket, he pulled out

     the rest of what Craig normally carried -- a plain black comb

     (his mother insisted he keep his hair neat -- wouldn't she be

     mad now!), some pens, "Hey, I can use these", the man said,

     and a keypouch. The man examined these, then tossed them

     aside and swore loudly.



          "Nothing but a lot of junk", hissed. "Fuck, kid, don't

     you got a yo-yo or something?" When Craig didn't respond he

     shook his head angrily and scowled at the boy.



          The pockets emptied, he threw the pants aside, then

     seemed to get an idea and picked them up again. "Yeah,

     this'll do", he said, pulling Craig's belt off. Grabbing

     the boy's ankles again, he wrapped the belt around them and

     cinched it. "There. Now stay put, the fun's just begun!",

     he laughed, and dashed out of the office, leaving Craig

     alone with his pain and misery.



                               xxx



          Mike's head was pounding, his heart racing like it

     always did whenever he had a little boy. He ran back to

     the entrance, scooping up his bag of goodies from where he'd

     left them, and ran back inside.



          He was gone only about two minutes; yet to Mike's

     amazement, he found Craig there, hopping slowly and

     precariously along on his two bound feet towards the rear

     of the building! Mike just stood there, watching in surprise

     for a moment, then walked over towards the fleeing boy.



          Craig heard him -- he turned and glanced over his

     shoulder, a look of anguish on his face; then he began

     hopping faster. Too fast: he lost his balance and fell to

     the floor with a plop. Mike went over and hauled him up by

     the arm. "Sorry, Craig", Mike said. "but I'll have to admit

     it was a nice try." He returned Craid to the office and

     lowered him to the floor.



          Craig lay where he'd been put, struggling a bit, but

     still not crying. He did look scared to death, and the pain

     from his bound penis -- which was now getting even darker in

     color -- was showing on his face. Mike knew it would be just

     a matter of time before the kid cracked -- they always did!



          Dropping down next to the kid, Mike slipped an arm

     around Craig's shoulders and sat him up. The boy was nude

     except for his shirt; Mike had deliberately saved that for

     last. "That's a nice shirt, Craig", he cooed, carefully

     undoing one button and slipping his hand inside. "Mmm,

     nice, smooth little boy chest. I like that." He slid his

     tongue along one side of Craig's neck. "Mmm... little boy.

     A little dirty, but tasty." He continued to lick and kiss

     Craig's neck for several minutes, his hand under Craig's

     shirt pinching and caressing the boy's nipples. One by one,

     he undid each shirt button, moving his hand lower and lower

     each time, then he leaned Craig back and began to kiss his

     chest, licking at his bare skin as he undid each button

     slowly.



          He pulled the shirt open finally, exposing Craig's

     naked little body. It was a nice body, in Mike's opinion,

     not fat but not horribly thin, either -- just right. He had

     an "outie" belly button, which Mike thought was pretty cute.

     "Hey, look at that, a baby hardon!", Mike laughed, kissing

     the little outie belly button, licking it with his tongue.

     He could feel Craig shiver -- with revulsion or fear, he

     didn't know or care which -- and raised his face, grinning

     at the boy.



          "Ready to have some fun, Craig?"



          Wrapping his arms around the boy, Mike climbed on top

     of him and sealed his mouth over Craig's lips, kissing him

     deeply. He held the kiss a long time, his tongue shoving

     into Craig's mouth and rasping over the boy's tongue. Craig

     squirmed a bit, but couldn't dislodge him.



          He drew away, smiling at the boy. "You liked that,

     didn't you Craig? You want some more, huh?"



          He flipped the boy over then, pinning him with one knee

     as he undid the rope on the boy's wrists. Grasping the

     collar of Craig's shirt he yanked on it, nearly pulling the

     boy's arms out of his sockets in an effort to get it off. As

     it came free Craig tried to move his arms forward -- trying to

     escape, perhaps? -- but Mike was too fast. He caught the

     boy's wrists and quickly re-bound them.



          "Nice try again, but no escape for you, Craig!", Mike

     laughed, and realizing suddenly what position he had the boy

     in, pressed his knee into Craig's buttocks. The boy let out a

     sharp gasp as his sore, engorged penis was ground against the

     cold, hard concrete floor, coupled now with the pain of Mike's

     knee against his ass!



          It was all too much for Mike. The boy was squirming

     furiously -- hurting himself even worse, no less -- but still

     not crying; yet the sight and feel of it was getting to him.

     Keeping Craig pinned down, he yanked down his own pants and

     underwear, his massive hardon springing out of its cotton

     prison.



          Mike slid his hands over the youngster's naked body,

     his fingers kneeding the soft young flesh. Craig lay

     squirming, still trying to relieve the pain in his engorged

     penis where it grated against the hard concrete.



          Wrapping his arms around Craig's waist, Mike hoisted

     the boy up, pushing his knees under him so his ass was now

     spread nice and wide, ready for entry...



                               xxx



          Bent over, his face shoved into the floor, his

     abductor's arms wrapped firmly around his small waist, Craig

     could could only grit his teeth and bear down as the man

     shoved his cock up inside his buttocks and asshole. Burning

     pain filled Craig's rectum as the huge, fleshy member pushed

     in, parting the constricting walls of his anus like a

     missile boring into him.



                               xxx



          Despite the pain, Craig refused to give in, to scream

     or cry, even as the man's huge cock pushed into his abdomen,

     each thrust burning and tearing and pounding hard at his

     insides. Craig's own little cock ached beyond all belief,

     constricted as it was by the wire wrapped so tightly around

     it. The little bit of flesh that had gotten caught up in

     the twist of wire was really stinging badly; indeed, Craig

     couldn't decide which hurt more. Yet he would not give in!



          "Oh yeah, oh yeah kid great fucking ass!", his rapist

     moaned, his voice more of a thick grunt than a man's voice

     now.



          Suddenly, the man stopped, thrusting forward in one

     great big heave. Craig could feel his attacker's cock

     pulsing inside of him, could feel something thick and warm

     pouring out into his intestines. For what felt like hours

     the man just stayed there, then slowly withdrew, his cock

     coming free with a soft pop!



          "Wow", the rapist breathed. "Nice ass!"



          The man lifted Craig up then and sat him back down on

     the crate. Craig squirmed and whimpered a bit, his sore,

     bare ass none to comfortable against the crate's rough wood

     surface, especially after the ass pounding he'd just been

     given!



          For the first time, Craig got a good, hard look at the

     man's huge cock. Craig had seen one before when he'd

     accidentally saw his father coming out of the shower, but

     this one was so much BIGGER and THICKER!



          "Like it?", the man asked, pulling the boy's gag down

     and tossing aside the wad of cloth in Craig's mouth. "All

     for you, Craigy!"



          "Open up, Craig", the man ordered, grabbing both sides

     of the boy's head in his hands, holding it firmly.



          "No, please, I can't, apfph--"



          Craig gagged as the huge member was shoved into his

     mouth, nearly into his throat. "If you even consider biting

     me", Mike snapped, "I'll rip out every fucking tooth in your

     head!"



          Holding the boy's head firmly in his hands, Mike began

     to jerk his head back and forth, the boy's lips wrapped

     around his cock forming their own little suction seal and

     driving him wild. Craig was pleading with his eyes, a sight

     that nearly made Mike come instantly. Somehow, he held out.



                               xxx



          Craig was hardly able to breathe with the man's penis

     sawing in and out of his throat. He choked and gagged and

     felt vaguely sick, but he couldn't do anything about it. He

     started to get dizzy from lack of oxygen and might have

     passed out had the man not suddenly stopped, and a warm,

     thick stream began to shoot into the back of Craig's throat.

     The boy choked and swallowed, having no other choice but to

     do what he was made to do.



          Finally the man pulled out and Craig began to gasp,

     taking in huge gulps of air. He very much wanted to cry

     then; he hoped it was all over.



          It wasn't.



                               xxx



          Mike pulled his cock free of Craig's mouth and stuffed

     it back in his pants. "Not bad for your first time", he

     told Craig, pulling the boy off the crate and sitting down

     next to him, then lowering him back to the floor.



          "Please, no more", Craig pleaded quietly. "Just let me go,

     please, I won't tell. Don't hurt me anymore. Please don't

     kill me."



          "Maybe I won't kill you", Mike teased.



          As encouraging as this sounded, Craig didn't believe it

     for an instant. And, if this man DID kill him, waht then?

     Would he hide or bury his body? Craig had seen many television

     specials about missing children; he knew that if his body

     were to be concealed, the odds of anyone finding it would be

     remote. His parents could spend the rest of their lives looking

     for him, and never find him! It was not to be thought of.

     "Please, oh please", he said, "if you MUST kill me, at least

     leave me someplace where somebody will find me? Please! Don't

     make my family suffer with not knowing what happened to me!",

     Craig pleaded.



          Mike stared at Craig, astonished that any child could face

     death so courageously. That a kid -- ANY kid -- should be capable

     of making such a plea filled him with amazement. There was no

     doubt about it: This kid had GUTS.



          "O.K., Craig", Mike began slowly. "You want me to leave you

     here, and you want it so they can find you? All right, I can do

     that. But I'll tell you right now that they won't like what they

     find!"



          He pressed his lips against the boy's mouth again, forcing

     more kisses from him. Weird kid, he thought, but fun! A

     little more, maybe, and he'd get what he wanted!



          Pushing the boy away, he put his gag back but didn't

     bother with shoving the rag back in his mouth first; he

     wanted Craig muffled, but not totally silenced. Not for

     what he had planned!



          Reaching into the duffle bag, he drew out a long, wide

     leather strap with twelve notches cut into one end. "See

     these?", he told Craig. "One for every little boy I ever had

     fun with. You get to be number thirteen." He peered at the belt.

     "Why hey, that's an unluckyy number! Escpecially for you."



          Folding the strap over, he brought it down hard on

     Craig's stomach. WHAP! The leather cracked against Craig's

     skin, making the boy double up for moment. WHAP! again,

     this time on Craig's chest. Again and again it brought it

     down, slapping the boy's chest, his stomach, then moving

     down his legs, finally cracking it hard against the soles of

     his feet. Each time Craig jumped and cried out in pain, his

     body tense and quivering as he anticipated each blow. Yet

     he did not cry, and that pissed Mike off even more!



          He rolled the boy over and cracked the strap down hard

     across the backs of his calves, moving up his thighs, then

     up to his back, two whacks each time, each part and then

     moving back to Craig's ass -- where he paused.



          Craig was trembling, shaking, but not yet showing any

     signs of giving in. Deep down, Mike had to admire the

     kid -- he had balls. On the other hand, he was really

     pissing Mike off to the nth degree!



          WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Four hard blows across Craig's

     small ass, each harder than the last. Craig cried out with

     each blow, shaking harder, yet he did not give in.



          Angrily Mike tossed the strap aside and flipped the boy

     over. "You're really asking for it kid!", he shouted, slapping

     Craig hard across the face. The boy cried out and lay there,

     dazed.



          Mike had had enough of this. As much as he had tried

     to "break" Craig, he realized now that that just wasn't

     going to happen. But even so he wasn't finished, not quite

     yet. He wanted to do one more thing, mostly for his own

     personal fun.



          Reaching into his duffle bag, he pulled out a small

     length of string. Turning his back to Craig, he sat down on

     the boy's chest and cupped Craig's balls in his hand. His

     badly engorged penis was a dark purple now, almost black; it

     looked like it might burst or fall off any second, it was

     stretched so tightly. But his balls were still fine, at

     least for the moment.



          He began to tie the string around them, or rather,

     around the sack, just above the kid's nuts. Tightly, no

     less, until Craig's balls were stretched tight against the

     scrotum sack that held them and the boy was moaning in pain.

     Pulling the two ends of the string out, he wrapped them

     around Craig's penis further up and pulled them tight,

     forcing the boy's penis to aim downward. Behind him, he

     could hear Craig scream out.



                               xxx



          Craig was in real pain now. It felt as if someone were

     ripping his abdomen apart slowly, stretching the skin beyond

     belief. He felt dizzy and faint, the pain washing over him

     in waves.



          But he didn't get a chance to faint. He felt the belt

     being removed from his ankles, and suddenly he was pulled to

     his feet. Dizzy, stumbling, the man holding onto his arm,

     he was led out into the warehouse proper, hardly noticing

     the sharp sting of bits of concrete and other debris against

     the soles of his sore, bare feet.



          He dropped the boy into a sitting position and told him

     to watch. Craig's head seemed to clear a little then, making

     him all the more aware of how much pain he was in.



          Craig saw then the man had brought the duffle bag.

     Fighting pain, he watched what the man was doing.



          Reaching into the bag, he withdrew a neatly bundled

     coil of rope. Methodically, with Craig watching, he laid it

     out end to end, measuring it from one I-beam to another,

     then nodding to himself.



          "This'll be a scream", he told the wide-eyed, shaking

     boy.



          Taking one end of the rope, he tossed it up and over an

     overhead beam, making it on the first try. Pulling one end

     and a good length toward the far I-beam, he walked back and

     pulled Craig to his feet.



          "Over here", he said, pulling Craig after him until the

     boy stood even with the rope. Despite his obvious fear,

     Craig stood silent and rigid, while Mike took the child's

     belt and pulled it around his neck tightly, but not so

     tightly the boy couldn't breath.



          His fingers hooked in the belt so that if Craig tried

     to bolt, he wouldn't go far, Mike tied the end of the rope

     around the belt itself, several times to be safe. Then,

     grabbing the length of it that hung down from the back of

     the I-beam, he turned to face Craig.



          "You said you wanted to be found", he told the boy,

     "and well, hey, I think that's pretty cool." He chuckled

     thickly, as if enjoying this. "Now, any last words?" With

     that, he reached up and pulled down Craig's gag.



          "Please, don't kill me, let me go and I promise I'll

     never tell anyone, please!", Craig pleaded.



          "Nope. Too late", Mike laughed, and began to pull on

     the rope.



          "Oh, no, please not that! Please, I umphfff--!"



                               xxx



          As his feet, kicking and swinging, cleared the ground,

     as his air was cut off and his throat constricted, Craig's

     thoughts swung into high gear, and he began to pray. He

     prayed that that someone, anyone, would come along to save

     him; that his family wouldn't suffer from his death too

     much; and forgiveness for the mis-choice that had resulted

     in this happening to him... Slowly his vision began to

     darken; the floor below spun and grew dim... and then the

     blackness was total, and Craig was beyond praying. The

     unhappy life of an unhappy little boy had come to a tragic

     and unhappy end.



                               xxx



          Mike stood and watched the youngster struggle and

     thrash about in the air, his eyes bulging and tongue jutting

     out as he hung suspended only a few feet from the floor, his

     legs kicking and waving, face turning redder and redder.



          With sudden inspiration, Mike dashed back into the office

     and returned carrying the wooden crate. He positioned it next

     to the dying child, then stood up on it himself.



          Unzipping his pants, he let them drop, exposing his

     rock hard cock. He grabbed the still writhing youngster

     around the waist, and thrust himself into the child's rectum

     and and began to pump wildly, the thought occuring to him to

     be GLAD he had thought of tying off the rope to the I-beam,

     and GLAD that Craig hadn't died more quickly -- that he

     was, in fact, dying a very slow, agonizing death...



          And then, as the jerking and twitching in Craig's body

     slowed and came to a gradual stop, Mike came, spewing his

     semen deep into the child's anal cavity, and he held the boy's

     naked little corpse against him snugly in ectasy, his eyes

     tightly shut as sexual release overwhelmed him...



                               xxx



          It felt like hours had passed.



          Mike opened his eyes and withdrew, hopping down from

     his precarious perch atop the crate, and looked up -- looked

     up at Craig's lifeless body hanging just a few feet away;

     looked at the wide, bulging blue eyes staring down at him,

     filled with the sudden shock and horror of sudden death.



          Slowly Mike caught his breath and returned to the office

     where he'd raped Craig, gathering up the boy's clothes and

     other items, then returning to the spot where the boy had

     been hanged. He dropped the boy's stuff in a pile beneath the

     body, and went back for his duffle bag, returning with it a

     few minutes later. Pulling out a clean rag, he wiped down

     everything he'd touched, scattering each item in a circle

     around Craig as it was wiped clean. Lastly, he reached up and

     wiped down the youngster himself; then, almost as an

     afterthought, went back and wiped down the office as well.



          Finally done, he glanced at his watch. Nearly three

     hours had passed; and time to get moving. If the school had

     called to check on Craig, his parents by now were sure to be

     looking for him, if the truant officers weren't. It was

     just a matter of if, and when, they'd look in here...



          Gathering up his stuff, he sneered at Craig's lifeless

     corpse. "Shouldn't've played hooky, kid. See what happens

     to bad little boys?"



          And just before leaving -- he almost forgot! -- he reached

     into his duffle bag and pulled out the leather strap he'd

     earlier beaten Craig with. Digging his pen knife out as well,

     he cut a small notch into the leather, next to the others.



          "Unlucky number 13", he said to himself. "But Lucky, at

     least for me...!"



          Then he left, laughing, satisfied with himself for yet

     another day.



          And then he was gone.



          Behind him, a light wind blew softly through the

     building. It flapped through the pages of losse-leaf

     notebooks which never again would see a little boy's

     handwriting. It whispered through that lonely place,

     rustling the sandy-blond hair of the naked little boy who

     still hung, feet dangling just inches off the floor. His

     eyes wide and staring, his head lolling grotesquely to one

     side, mouth gagged, and hands bound tightly behind him,

     he swayed gently back and forth in the cool spring breeze

     of a world which never again would witness him at play.



          Slowly, the hours passed...





                             EPILOGUE



          School let out at three p.m. that afternoon, the doors

     of the elementary school bursting open like the skin of a

     ripe orange, letting loose an oozing stream of kids all

     eager to get home and play before dinner time.



          Practically at the head of the pack was Jeremy Whiler,

     aged eleven. Jeremy's family had only moved here a few days

     ago, and already he was itching to explore. While he'd been

     over some of town the past few days, one place he hadn't

     been yet was the old plant at the edge of town.



          Yanking his bike out of the bike rack, he pedaled away

     quickly, waving to the few friends he'd made who all had to

     go home and do chores. Through the streets and down the

     sidewalks he went, finally skidding to a halt before the

     huge doors of the plant itself.



          He stared up in awe. This was terrific! Jeremy just

     loved to explore old buildings, no matter how many times his

     parents warned him it wasn't safe. After all, what did an

     eleven year old boy care about safe? He wanted adventure!



          Pushing his bike into some bushes so nobody'd steal it,

     he crept inside. Again, he stared in awe at all the space,

     at the smaller, darker side offices -- and then he saw the

     body.



          At first, Jeremy didn't realize it was a body; he

     thought it was a mannequin, left hanging there by some other

     kids. He ran over to it, his eyes quickly going from the

     mannequin to the pile of stuff that lay all around it. He

     saw a wallet amid it all and picked it up, and discarded it

     when he found it empty. Looking around, he spotted what

     looked like a library card. Picking it up, he examined it

     curiously. It bore a name: CRAIG SOMMERS.



          Jeremy scratched his head. Hey, that name was familiar!

     Craig Sommers was a kid everybody picked on, a weird loner.

     Personally, Jeremy felt a bit sorry for him; but he picked

     on Craig too, mostly because everyone else did.



          Only then did it hit him.



          Lifting his eyes, he stared up at the mannequin. He'd

     seen mannequins before, with no clothes on; but they didn't

     have long, black things sticking out of them where their

     private parts should be -- and they DIDN'T have such hideous

     expressions on their faces...



          Jeremy dropped the card and backed up. This was no

     mannequin he was staring at -- it was CRAIG SOMMERS!



          Screaming, the boy tore out of the plant, forgetting

     his bike, and ran down the street, still screaming at the

     top of his lungs...



                               xxx



          They buried little Craig Sommers two days later,

     dressed in a brown suit he wore to church every Sunday.

     Nearly the whole town turned out for the funeral, perhaps

     the largest gathering in the town's history.



          Craig's parents were devastated. The autopsy had

     revealed he died of slow strangulation, and that he'd been

     raped prior to that. They were not told the rest, however,

     like the results of what had been done to his sexual organs,

     or the damage he would have suffered had he survived.



          Even as his parents mourned, the police began the hunt

     for his killer. Outraged citizens joined them, searching

     for the faceless person who'd violated and taken the young

     boy's life, vowing mob justice once they found him.



          By then, of course, it was too late. For Craig. And

     for Craig's killer, who'd long ago left them and his crimes

     behind...



                        <*> THE END <*>



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