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This thread will contain stories involving preteen girls being killed; mostly outright murder, although there will be a few consent and suicide stories.


My first story is response to a prompt /RP/.

President's Daughter

Patricia Viktorinova believes she is on her way home from violin lessons. She is only nine, with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, and President Alexander Viktorinov's only daughter and youngest child. Patricia is also her daddy's favorite, as well as the favorite of the staff he hired to look after his children; she is well-behaved and polite, unlike her brothers. Everyone tends to spoil the little lady, and because of that she has developed an unusually high level of trust towards them. When her chauffeur, even though her father only hired him two months ago, turns down the wrong street Patricia she is too busy devouring the unusually large tin of chocolate chip cookies and tall cup of chocolate milk Mister Levchenko brought her, while watching a cartoon on her smartphone, to notice; the idea that she could be in danger while in the presence of a man her loving father entrusted with her safe transportation never crosses her mind. She falls asleep soon, with the half-eaten tin of cookies and phone sliding to the floor, without serious thought as to why she is not at home on time.

For almost two hours Viktor Levchenko drives, leaving the city and into a more rural part of the country. A fat lump seems to form in the back of his throat and swells up several times as his destination grows closer. Viktor wonders how such a wonderful and beautiful child could have been created by a man such as the President. If she could be given to a loving family, perhaps in another country… but she is too old for that to work. And the mission he was given by the Peace Restoration Force is not to give the child of a dictator a better home, but to make that dictator take notice of their pleas. He needs to know that he and his family are not safe from the People's wrath. His thoughts turn to his own daughter, who starved to death as the President wasted unnecessary resources on this hopeless war with the European Federation.

With that last thought on his mind, Viktor pulls off the road and drives several kilometers before stopping in front a farmhouse. Six figures in military uniforms emerge from the side of the farmhouse, carrying automatic weapons; they are also strapped with several other guns and belts of ammunition. Three of them open the back door of the car and grab Patricia's arms. The child opens her eyes, dazed, as she is dragged from the vehicle. Her eyes quickly widen as her legs and torso hit the ground and they drag her along the ground.

"What are you doing? Let me stand up! My dress!" The girl screamed, as her formerly-white dress was quickly covered in dirt and grass.

Her captors ignore her pleas. Patricia tries to pull herself to her feet, but they move too swiftly for her to get a decent footing. Getting to her feet becomes a secondary concern when her driver's car pulls away. Her eyes widen as the outline of the vehicle grows smaller.

"Mister Levchenko? Mister Levchenko!! Where are you going?" Patricia screams. She tries to pull away and Chase after her driver's car, but she lacks the strength to even slow the two men pulling her away. Patricia can only scream as Mister Levchenko's car disappears over a hill and is never seen by her again.

Her captors lifts her tiny body until her feet are dangling centimeters in the air, and slam her the side of the farmhouse. They force her arms into a set of harnesses nailed to the wall. Another guy locks her in while the two hold her in position. They let go and Patricia tests the strength of the harnesses with another attempt to pull away; unfortunately for Patricia, the harness is bolted tightly to the wall and the latch will not budge.

"Let me go! My father will not be mad if he finds out how you're treating me! Now let me go!"

None of her captors pay heed to her words, and seemingly act as if she said nothing. One of the men who strapped her to the wall disappears into the house and comes back minutes later with a camcorder and tripod. He sets both up three meters in front of her and turns on the camera. Afterwards he draws a knife from his pocket and approaches her. She closes her eyes and looks away, screaming "don't hurt me!" Instead of stabbing her, he grabs the straps of her dress and cuts each one. She opens her eyes when the fabric falls to the ground and her bare skin is exposed to the crisp autumn air. She lets out a sharp cry when the knife nips her smooth prepubescent mound, as the man cuts the fabric of her panties and leaves her completely nude.

"My dress is ruined!" Tears roll down her cheeks as the man picks up the remains of her clothes. "I'm so cold! Please give me my clothes. It's so cold!"

"You won't have to worry about the cold for very long. Most little girls in this country have to sleep in the cold, so consider yourself lucky."

He walks away and Patricia looks on through teary eyes. The man throws the clothes on the ground and turns to face her; standing next to the camera. Five other men stand in a line beside him, and all six raise their guns. Patricia's mind registers the fact that they are pointing guns at her microseconds before the first trigger is pulled. The sound of rapid gunfire echoes over the countryside. Patricia screams and writhes as each impact tears through her nubile flesh, sending up spatters of blood and tissue; all of her internal organs seem to burn. Her screams die after ten seconds with her brain shutting down from the overwhelming agony, but her body continues to writhe with each impact. The gunfire dies down moments later and her body goes limp, save for random spasms which continue for a few more minutes. Patricia's head limply hangs down; blank eyes peering at the dirt, and her mouth ajar with her tongue uselessly sticking out and blood dripping from the end. Blood and pieces of organs drip out of the countless holes which riddle her body, from her chest down to her feet.

One of the men walks around to the front of the camcorder and looks into the lens.

"Consider this the punishment for starving your people just so you can wage a pointless war that nobody gives a shit about. If you do not stop we will kill you and your entire family."

He shuts off the camcorder. The video is sent overseas where it will make its' way onto various websites; both shady, darkweb, sites, as well as mainstream sites. The President will see it very quickly. Patricia's body is left on the side of the house as the group moves their operations, and eventually devoured by wild animals. The President, however, will focus a great deal of resources towards punishing everyone responsible and their families.


Apologies for the multiple posts. I was getting errors during the first few attempts and didn't know that it actually went through.


I expected to find my sister dead before I opened the door to her room. My parents have no idea that I overheard them planning the poison her. The Population Regulations Committee selected her to be among the millions purged this year; as human populations have reached into the trillions, many believe it to be necessary. It was customary for people to purge themselves, as the Committee's methods were not painless. Parents whose children were selected generally preferred to snuff them without their knowledge.

Even so, I whispered her name as I closed the door behind me. "Kayla!"

No response.

I flipped a switch and light flooded the room. She was laying on her bed; on top of the blanket, as usual. The crotch of her blue skirt was damp, and the sheets around her buttocks stained yellow. Her eyes were closed. "She just peed the bed. She isn't dead," I thought to myself, even though I knew it was a lie.

"Kayla! Are you…?"

I approached her and reached my hand out. When I tried to lift her body, her head and limbs dangled uselessly. I froze and dropped her back to the bed. The momentum nudged her left eyelid open, and her blank stare erased from my mind any doubt as to her condition: she was definitively dead. My bratty, hyper, yet occasionally kind-hearted, little sister was nothing but dead meat. At the pure age of ten, no less. It was a revolting sight, even if I knew it was done for the greater good.

Morbid curiosity had gotten the best of me. I decided to give little Kayla one last brotherly peck on the cheek, then return to bed. After shutting her eyelid with my thumb, I leaned towards her; as soon as my lips touched her cheek, something seemed to change inside of me. I noticed how soft and warm her delicate cheeks were, then the sweet fragrance of her strawberry-scented shampoo, mixed with toothpaste and mouthwash, hit my nostrils. I thought to myself that she was very pretty; not something I had ever thought of before. Before I was fully aware of what was happening I found my index finger being inserted into her mouth. It was warm, and still wet, as a string of saliva pulled away from her lips after I removed my finger. I leaned forward again, and this time my lips connected with hers' I gently suckled on her lips and slowly slipped my tongue in my mouth. When pulled away, I found that the entire weight of my body was on to of her, and my hands gripped the sides of her face; softly caressing her cheeks with my thumbs.

"What the hell am I doing?" I thought myself.

The real horror, for me, came when I felt the tip of my penis pushing against the fabric of my boxers; worse still as my crotch was positioned against Kayla's right left. I thought how, if not for the thin layer of fabric, my penis would have been touching her skin. Then, against all logic and reason, I pulled the flaps of my boxers and allowed my erect dick to slide out. "I'm really doing this," I thought as I moved my pelvis forward and back, as my hard member rubbed against my dead sister's leg.

I looked into her pretty face again, seemingly asleep rather than dead. My eyes then ran down the length of her petite body, bundled up in her favorite blue shirt and skirt, with white sleeves. It would have been such a waste, for such a beautiful thing to just rot in the ground without ever having been enjoyed. I decided that I was going to be her first and last. It was only much later that it hit me that my dead sister would be the one to take my virginity; not that I have ever bragged about it, being my own dark little secret.

I lifted her skirt and pulled her panties, pink cotton, off and threw them to the floor. I stared at her smooth prepubescent pussy for ten seconds before I mounted her body. I lined up with her slit and thrust forward. With an audible grunt I penetrated her tight cunt. I popped her cherry almost immediately, although I only realized it when I felt something warm and sticky around my shaft. Even with blood as a lubricant, it was a tight squeeze and it took everything I had to control the volume of my grunts as I pushed deeper with each thrust. I was somewhat happy that she could not feel what I was doing. Eventually I reached her cervix, and pounded it with an ever-accelerating pace.

It did not take long for me to cum. After only five minutes I climaxed; strings of hot sticky goo sprayed into her. I groaned a little too loudly as I drained every last drop into Kayla's cooling womb. I pulled out, and rested next to her for a few minutes as I caught my breath.

Then I reached over and pulled Kayla's face to mine, and kissed her on the lips one last time. Afterwards I shut off her light and went to bed. Next morning I peaked into her room and her body was already taken to a disposal facility. I quickly became worried, when I noticed that her panties were still on the floor. Luckily my parents never said anything to me, so I assume that they either never noticed or they thought she took them off herself. Either way, I snatched them up off the floor and hid them beneath a loose floorboard.

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