There she stands, propped against a pole in the subway carriage. Perky nipples straining against the thin fabric of her tight white cropped top.
Head bowed towards her cell phone screen and earphones shutting out the outside world, her tits undulate invitingly as she giggles at the contents of whatever messages she's reading.
Most provocative is her stance: she steadies herself in the swaying carriage. Her creamy legs shoulder-width apart. The skin of her thighs seem to glow. Wrapped around her bum is the briefest pair of purple shorts. The crotch of the thin fabric clings to her mons like a second skin. A cleft is acutely visible to all, revealing the curves of her cunt lips.
Isn't she aware of the camel toe she's sporting?
Maybe she knows, but doesn't care.
Or maybe she wants people to look.
And send to us lesser male mortals that "Hey, I'm pretty. I'm perfect. And I'm out of your league."
She couldn't be older than early twenties, but with these South Korean tarts, it's hard to tell for sure. You know those types, those Korean pop music or drama idols. Porcelain skinned, endowed with delicious curves.
I was in the country wrapping up a project. It is late in the evening, I'm heading back to my apartment after a session of hard drinking at a seedy bar with the local crew.
Squeezed a few of the bar girls' tits, stuck my finger up their cunts too. Earned me a few mock admonishments, with enticement for me to pay if I wanted so sample the goods.
But I had to call it a night with a flight back home to catch in the early morning.
Hated to have to leave. Frustrated. Needed to fuck.
Then this attention-seeking whore comes along.
An announcement for my stop. I shuffle to the door of the subway car.
She, too, turns to exit the platform as the doors open. Eyes glued to her cell phone, she marches out on her long slender legs, oblivious to others who may be in her way. Typical queen bee. Uppity bitch.
I fall in step behind her, my gaze fixed on the sway of her hips and the fullness of her buttocks. I imagine tearing off those disgustingly skimpy shorts and penetrating this tease right in the middle of the subway station.
An impulse takes me. I follow her.
Weaving through the crowd, I smile politely as I brush past commuters.
She leads me to an exit from the suburban station, to familiar surroundings.
It's a good area. A safe area. One that I've called my temporary home for the last few weeks.
She steps out into the night. I follow at a discrete distance.
Her eyes never leave her phone. Her music envelops her.
We pass a worksite where a townhouse is being built. I know the site has no guards on duty after dark.
An opportunity beckons.
And an impulse takes over.
She crumples to the ground, felled by a brick now stained crimson.
With adrenaline throbbing through my body, I waste no time picking up her limp body and moving her into the half-built structure.
This condo will one day be the dream home for families.
But tonight, it will be the scene of this little asian cunt's nightmare.
I place her amongst tall piles of construction materials, and switch on an electric lantern.
There is a nasty gash from her right ear across to the back of her head. I feel a pulse, and see a soft rising and falling of her bosoms as she breathes.
I lay her on her back, and take in the sight of her. She looks demure, almost angelic. Blessed with a body built for carnal pleasures, she has gone out of her way tonight to put her flesh on display.
I clamp a hand over a breast and grope it roughly, the firm meat feels like a good-sized C cup. Over her dirt-stained top, I grasp both nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and give them a vicious twist. Eyelids fluttering, the little whore groans as she weakly draws her hands up to protect her nubs.
A boxcutter lies nearby, and I make short work of her top and expose her braless tits. Her proud, round mammaries are topped off by dainty chocolate brown nipples. I grab her tits again, savouring the fullness of the flesh and the smoothness of her skin. She groans and rolls her head in pain as I dig my fingers in as hard as I can into those breasts.
But now, I am ready for the main part of the fun.
I stand at her feet, and swiftly kick her legs wide apart. A sandal flies off her foot, almost striking a small rodent. An inconsequential detail.
I kneel down between her legs, and see that there is a patch of moisture at the crotch of those sinfully small shorts. She pissed herself. Oh, the embarassment, I chuckle.
Picking up the handy boxcutter again, I idly tap the blade on her cloth covered pussy, wondering if the slut had any panties on.
Providing a little amusement for myself, I slice down both sides of the shorts, and pull the flimsy garment away with a flourish.
A hairless moist pink slit, framed by delicate brown cuntlips, greets me.
Conservative society my ass. This filthy little cock tease goes prancing around for a night on the town, her womanly bits just barely covered by thin scraps of cloth.
I bet she knows the kind of looks her tits attract.
I bet she squeezes them together to flaunt her cleavage.
I bet she loves showing off her long legs.
I bet she likes the way her shorts rubs her clit.
I bet she ges wet knowing how men want to fuck her.
I bet she enjoys being such a tease.
A rage builds in me.
I part the pink flesh between her legs, and I land a hard slap on her vulva.
She grunts loudly at the blow, and tears trickle slowly from her closed eyes.
I remove my clothes, and set my rigid cock free. I have never been to hard and aroused.
Crouching with my face hovering close to the fuck slot, I inhale the musky, salty aroma. With a thumb prying apart the nether lips, I see the vagina opening up - somewhat relectantly - to reveal the ribbed, pink channel that leads into the depths of the young whore's body.
I hock up a wad of phlegm and spit it directly into the yielding cunt. I see the thick, foamy lump slide further into her until it disappears from sight.
I bet she's never had her precious little pussy disrespected that way.
Congrats. Here's your first time, bitch.
With the slut's legs spread wide, I kneel down and pry her cuntlips apart as I rest my engorged dick at the entrance to the bitch's sex. I give one purposeful push, and the head pops in despite the minimal lubrication.
It hurts though. My poor dick.
That wouldn't do.
I coat my shaft with more spit watch as her labia clings to my invading rod.
I bottom out, my length fully and firmly encased inside the tramp's unwilling vagina. This is the first time I've done something like this: rape a women. I smile at the realization.
She's got the honor of being my first victim. How do you like that bitch?
I reach down and run my thumb over her clit, stroking it until it peeks out of its hood. I feel more moisture gather around my raping cock. With her clit grasped between my thumb and forefinger, I give it a cruel pinch.
The bitch yelps and I feel her cunt walls clamp around my rod.
The young whore groans, and draws a slim arm towards the injured side of her head. Her eyelids flutter open, and in panic I deliver a backhand blow at her face, unintentionally near where the brick had hit her.
She sobs, and mutters something in her lanuage as she rolls her head from side to side. Her eyes are glazed, her gaze is unfocused. In the dim light, I notice that the pupil in one eye is more dialated than the other side.
Trauma to the brain.
All from a little tap to the head.
I continue her rape in earnest now, attacking her sex with deep thrusts. She starts to cry and beg, and I clamp a hand over her mouth. With my other free hand, I mercilessly crush the twin soft globes of flesh on her sob-wracked chest.
Her pink nipples stand erect. Like the abuse, cunt?
Then I make her tits the target of ferocious slaps, the sound of my hand forcefully connecting with her mammaries echoing in the quiet of the night. The succulent tits wobble invitingly, as red handprints leave their mark on the pale, smooth skin.
The young slut's pretty, tear-streaked face is contorted in pain. Her eyes are closed, her body in agony from the throbbing in her head, the assault on her breasts, and the relentless violation of her sex.
On the verge of cumming, I clamp my hands over her tits and pull her towards me. She screams in protest at the maltreatment, and I empty my balls deep into her sex.
I silence her noise with another blow. Spying the scraps of her shorts lying nearby, I wad it into a ball and stuff the fabric into the bitch's mouth.
I slide my dick out of her without ceremony, and sit on my haunches to catch my breath.
She sobs and sputters, and slowly draws her legs closed.
A tramp like her, so willing to display herself in public, doesn't need modesty. I kick her legs open, revealing her freshly-raped pussy to the night once again.
Her pussy gapes slightly after its rape. I rouhgly pull the lips apart to admire my handiwork: each petal shows a deeper shade of pink, and look floppier probably due to the stretching they were given. A slimy trail of cum mixed with spit and cunt juices runs out from the fuck slot and down onto her anus.
An inspiration takes me.
I take hold of one slim angle, and lift her leg as I stand up. With brute force, I fling her legs aside, roughly flipping her over onto her front.
She cries and mumbles, maybe begging me for mercy. Maybe calling out for her parents, or a loved one, to come rescue her.
I grab one knee, and part her lovely thighs. Her hips are canted to once side, pussy and asshole calling out to be abused.
I jam two fingers into her cunt, eliciting a muffled yelp from her.
Reaching in as far as I can go, I gather as much of the cum, spit and cunt juice mixture onto my fingers and spread it on my rigid pole.
I kneel down behind her, clamp my hands onto her hips, and pull her close.
Time to fuck her ass.
Maybe she's an anal virgin, I can feel her sphincter quivering around the head of my cock as I stretch her open with it. As inch after inch of my cock is forced into her rear, she arches her back upwards and flails her arms in a futile attempt to crawl away from me.
In her struggles, I see that her substantial breasts bulge tantalizingly from the side of her chest. Snaking my hands to her front, I hold on to her tits and use them as leverage to rape her ass.
Having come once, I last much longer for this session, relishing the warm tightness of an unwilling rectum clenching on my dick. My hands alternate bewteen savagely pinching her pink-nipples tits, and clawing at her clit as if trying to dig it out from between her legs.
The slapping of body against body, the low moans of her suffering, are music to my ears.
I grunt as I ejaculate deep into her bowels, and pull my spent cock out of her bunghole.
She shivers in shock and slowly turns onto her side and curls into a ball. I march over to her and grab a fistful of her beautiful hair. The young cunt mewls pitiously as I clean the filthy mix of cum, blood and shit from my dick with her hair.
Her face is a mask of pain and misery. Her plaintive muffled wails and suffering she has been through, would cause those who hold her dear to break down and go insane.
But lying there on the cold concrete floor, she has no audience to sympathise with her.
And no one should. She's a stuck-up slut after all.
I hear her retch, and see her expel her wadded-up shorts from her mouth, followed by a copious amount of vomit.
She turns towards me, but her eyes are unfocused. Her breathing shallow and soft as she lies in a pool of puke.
Not so picture perfect and pristine now, aren't we, bitch?
An inspiration takes me.
I get up and retrieve the boxcutter. I lay her flat on her back, and rest her head on my lap. For good measure, I give each tit a tight slap.
Taking handfuls of her hair, I yank hard and hack her locks off, leaving some patches nearly bald, and others with only an inch or so left.
You're all ugly now, you know that, cunt?
As I raise my hand to shear off the final handful of her fine tresses, she reaches up and grabs at my hand to stop me. Not expecting this, I lash out with the boxcutter in my hand.
I hear a shriek and look down, tracing the arc of where my hand had travelled.
I see blood. Welling up from a deep slash at the base of her left breast.
I am momentarily stunned. Then...
An inspiration takes me.
I wring out the puke-sodden shorts and stuff the filthy rag back into her mouth. Then, I reinforce the gag with the remnants of her top.
Spying a roll of packing tape nearby, I bind her wrists together, and tape her elbows to the side of her body. I prop her against a vertical strut, and tape her neck to it, making sure she had some allowance to breathe.
Little whore is drifting in and out of consciousness. A small mercy? Maybe not.
Her legs are stretched out in front of her, and I face her and lower myself to sit on her knees, my hard penis pointing at her belly button.
I lean in and take the nipple from her uninjured tit into my mouth, teasing it to hardness with flicking motions of my tongue.
I cradle that breast with both hands, and gently squeeze it to savour the full ripeness of that sexy piece of flesh.
My hands drift away, and I extend the blade of the boxcutter.
No turning back now. Done too much damage. In too deep.
My hand cups her injured tit, and with a firm hold I pull her mammary towards me, making the wound at the base open up slightly. I nestle the boxcutter blade, facing up, into the wound. She takes a sharp breath.
Not knowing how things will proceed, I push upwards while drawing the boxcutter across the base of her left breast. The bitch's eyes fly open and she issues a series of muffled screams, the veins of her neck straining against the tape.
She struggles in vain as bit by bit, sharp steel unerringly passes through skin, fat and breast tissue. With each stroke, less and less of her tit is connected to her chest. Strange thing I notice: her nipples are stiff. But at the blade's halfway mark on its journey up through the base of the boob, I see that the left nipple looks somewhat less turgid. A couple of strong pinches brings the doomed nipple back to hardness. My task resumes.
Now, a thin bridge of skin and subcutaneous fat is all that connects the bitch's rapidly cooling tit to her body. I jerk the lump of meat towards me, ripping away that last tether that bound this symbol of femals beauty to its former owner.
I inspect the meat: there is a pleasant heft to the C-cup tit as it rests in my hand. The tit feels soft, and I give it a hard squeeze, making the contents of the breast bulge out a little from the raw end. I run my fingers over, taking in the sight of yellow tit fat, pink mammary glands and red flesh dance under my fingertips. Turning the severed breast around, I see that the nipple is now relaxed in death.
My gaze returns to the whore. She's out. I rouse her with a slap across her face.
She groggily lifts her head as I bring her cut off breast to her face and stroke her cheek with mock tenderness using her dead nipple.
For a brief moment, her eyes focus on the flesh that used to be hers, standing proudly on her chest. Somewhere in the recesses of her damaged brain, the finality of what she saw registered.
A tear rolls down her cheek as I press the tit to her lips.
Yeah, say goodbye to your funbag, you stuck-up cunt.
Her eyes flutter closed as her head drops down. She's going into shock.
I nonchalantly drop the chopped tit from where I held it in front of her. It tumbles down her lap, and quite comically comes to rest with the nipple pressed against the swollen head of my penis. At the sight, a massive drop of pre-cum oozes from my pee hole, coating the cool nipple, before lazily dribbling down the areola and making its way down the curve of the breast before disappearing into the woman's lap.
Don't move, slut. You've one more tit for me.
I note that I didn't cut off her left tit as cleanly as I would have liked. I conclude that sawing right across the bottom of the breast does not account for the curve of the ribs.
My plan is to still start from the base of the tit, but make shorter, diagonal upward cuts on each side. That should maximise the amount of breastmeat removed.
Any last words, titty? None? OK, time to die.
The bitch hardly makes a sound as I cut her remaining sexy breast from her. Of course, she winces with the slow, deliberate strokes of the blade: the only response her pain-overloaded body can give. I make each slice with reverence, like a butcher excising the finest cuts of meat from a carcass.
Shift tit left, make the right side cut; shift tit right, make the left side cut... On and on I go, until I finally feel the now-familiar sensation of a breast coming loose into my palm.
I hold up the bitch's chopped off tits and admire them in the light. They both look delightful, smooth alabaster skin enveloping each sensual curve of the tits, cute pink nipples and areolas begging to be teased, or abused.
But too bad for her, she won't be deriving any more pleasure from her breasts anymore.
A rasping noise brings my attention back to her. Head bowed with her neck taped to a pole to keep her upright, she is struggling to breathe. I toss her former pride and joy onto the dirty concrete floor, and walk over to cut her neck free from the pole.
Without support, she slumps to her side first then collapses onto her back, breathing in slow shallow gasps.
I pick the tits off the grimy floor, and - holding each by the nipple - place them on her chest in the positions where they once belonged, unharmed. Could they still be reattached, I wonder? But then she coughs and both breasts topple off, one landing nipple up and the other on it's side, each in its own little pool of precious red life-giving blood.
She has suffered incredible, no unspeakable, abuse and mutilation.
She is someone's daughter. Someone's sister. Someone's lover. Poor girl. Boo hoo. That's what happens when you're a proud show-off of your sinful flesh, bitch.
Her battered body is caked with dirt, a bleeding gash on her head, her hair haphazardly cut off, and two raw red holes where her tits used to be. Her slightly parted legs reveal copious amount of cum and blood and shit leaking from both fuckholes, pooling underneath her bum.
Not looking so pristine and attractive now, huh?
That's what you deserve for parading around town in a skimpy top and shorts, making men want you and being a fucking cock tease!
My eyes drift down her belly.
A light goes off in my head.
An inspiration takes me.
One last symbol of her femininity remains.
She has no right to keep it.
She must have it taken from her.
But this might be tricky. And messy.
I appraoch her pussy with the boxcutter. Not quite certain how to proceed, I stick my left thumb into her slippery cock lot, and then hold both the major and minor lips on her left bewteen my thumb and forefinger. I pull the trapped flesh outwards and place the blade against her skin where her thighs meet her crotch.
Then I make a deep cut into the slut's vulva. She grunts in pain and kicks her legs, but in her weakened state, does not deter me from carving out her pussy.
I keep sawing through and within the gaping hole of her cunt, I see the boxcutter blade emerge from her cunt passage wall. A few more cuts, then I let go. One side of her vulva has been detatched from her pelvis: her major and minor lips on her left is now a floppy peninsula of flesh, still attached to her mons near her clit.
She's bleeding less than expected. Probably shock.
I grip her cuntlips on her right side, and repeat the performance of detatching her vulva from her crotch.
Now, her sensual pussy has been reduced to an inverted U-shaped strip of meat. Only about half an inch of meat at her clit keeps her cuntlips stuck to her.
An inspiration takes me.
I chuck the boxcutter aside and grip both sides of detatched cuntlips in my right hand.
Her clit looks moist. Weeping, perhaps, at what is to come.
Without a final thought, I wrench the flesh away from her crotch, violently separating the whore's clit from between her legs. At that instant, she screams a mighty one.
Then falls silent.
At the corner of my eye, I see a glow from a pile of bricks, and realise that the light came from her cell phone which ended up face-down on the grimy floor.
Using my foot to kick it over, I see Korean gibberish, but know enough to see that it's a few missed calls. Then, the call cuts off.
Then I see a familiar location icon flash. Someone has sent a location finder request to the cell phone.
My cue to leave. And fast.
A shimmer catches my eye. Among the spilled contents of her designer tote bag was a glittery sash with the words, "It's my hen party!" Huh.
I gather my things, and put on my clothes.
A voice at the back of my head screams at me to remove all evidence.
But no. Leave before anyone comes. There's only one way out, and that's from where I came in.
With shadows my only ally, I slip out of the construction site, leaving the formerly attractive slutwhore to her fate.
I have a plane to catch.
No cops showed up at my apartment. No dramatic airport scenes either.
The media frenzy started while I was on the flight back home.
They got wind of a an incident where a young woman was burtally raped, and subsequently subjected to sickening mutilation. The young woman survivived, but was in a coma.
Concerned that this hateful crime occurred in what was regarded as a safe neighbourhood, people demanded to know more about the case, and some expressed fear that this was the start of a new serial killer's spree.
Then two things happened: some sick reporter hungry for a scoop managed to find the hospital that the slut was admitted to, snuck in and took a photo of her all hooked up to machines. The photo was particularly distressing, as it showed the bandages around her flat chest.
The second thing that happened: shortly after the photo was splashed in the papers, a well-meaning but stupid friend of the girl started an online appeal for funds to support long-term medical care. Of course, sceptics denounced the friend as being opportunistic, raising funds for her own benefit on the back of a poor girl's suffering.
This stupid friend, another pretty and stuck up cunt, then reveals the victim's name.
From there, the public then visits the slut's photo-sharing and social media spaces, and see the whole collection of pictures of her strutting her stuff at the beach, social engagements, formal dinners, etc. Some netizens then start pointing out that the slut deserved what happnened to her for being so proud of her beauty and putting herself on display.
Her tearful parents went on television, begging for the hate against their suffering daughter to stop. Eventually, her photo-sharing and social media accounts were taken down to protect her privacy.
Fortunately, I saved a copy of all her slutty photos.
And as I speak, I'm looking at one photo taken of her at the beach.
She's in a skimpy (what else) yellow bikini, her luscious body angled against the lens to emphasise the fullness of her bum, and the generous curves of her creamy breasts.
My fist is a blur as I masturbate furiously.
As I cum, I crush a soft object with my left hand and spurt ropes of cum at the screen.
I catch my breath, and hold the object up to the screen.
The whore's right tit. That night, I had returned to my apartment, washed up, and then went to the project office to preserve my trophies and labelled them as biological samples for couriering back home.
On screen, that right breast, and its twin, was flaunted so proudly that day at the seaside. No doubt attracting lusty stares from guys, and perhaps jealous looks from other women.
I wondered about the slut's fiance.
Is he by her side everyday at the hospital, waiting for her to wake up?
Is he able to accept her terrible injuries, and the psychological scars that will be with her for life?
Did it not bother him that he was going to marry such a slutty attention-seeking cunt?
Did it not bother him that his cock was probably one of many that had cum in her fuckhole?
I place the supple, perfectly preserved breast into a wooden case, next to the slut's left tit and vulva. I close the case and gaze at my trophies.
Did it not bother him that his wife-to-be's tits and cunt were now playthings for a faceless stranger?
I'll never know the answers. Do I care?
I return to the computer and scroll to the last photo she had uploaded: one that was taken at the hen party at a club. She was surrounded with her gal pals, her smile radiant. Her full breasts straining against the thin material of her top, nipples demanding attention from the camera.
She couldn't have known that the worst thing that'd happen to her would take place later on that evening.
I turn the glass cover of the wooden case towards the screen, presenting the severed sex organs to her smiling visage.
Thank you for saving these for me, cunt. I accept your gifts.