Tag Archives: clowns

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 30 Thru 32

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SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18, click here to read chapters 19 thru 21, click here to read chapters 22 and 23, click here to read chapters 24 and 25, click here to read chapters 26 and 27 and click here to read chapters 28 and 29.

Chapter 30

Believe it or not, a couple of them cops gave me their phone numbers after they interrogated me. Not their work lines. Their personal numbers. So it ain’t gonna come as much of a surprise when I say I was fucking one of them on a pretty regular basis a few months after the murders.

He was a real fuckin’ weirdo. He liked getting high with me in bed while I told him about Ryan AKA Victor raping me and Mandee and all the violent details. Really got his cock hard. Funny thing was, the story changed just about every time I told it cause wasn’t none of that shit true to begin with. He didn’t care. He just wanted to bust his pervert nut. 

I even started making up stories about other dudes raping me because he got so worked up by it. Told me he wanted to do some role playing fantasy type shit where he’d break into my place when I was sleeping and I’d pretend I didn’t know him. Hell, I would lay there screaming and hollering but really I was wondering why the hell he didn’t just go out and rape some bitch for real. Seemed like a waste of time to me.

So one night while we were drifting off to sleep after he’d pried open my window and pretended to knock me out with some kind of chemical rag, I was laying there thinking about pouring laundry detergent down his throat as I fell asleep.

I actually hadn’t thought about Mandee in a while. I’d begun to fantasize about my next victims, whoever they might be. I’d check out girls at the bars as I worked on getting taken home and fucked. But instead of admiring the girls’ tits and asses and whatnot, I was thinking about which ones I could get away with killing.

Anyway, so I fell asleep and dreamed about Mandee.

I was back inside Ryan AKA Victor’s torture room only he was nowhere to be found. It was just me and Mandee. It was awesome at first. I felt like I was really there, like it was the most vivid dream I’d ever had. What do they call that shit? Lucid dreaming? Yeah, I was lucid dreaming. I crawled on top of her corpse and I rubbed my naked pussy all over her, leaving a fucking snail trail of girl cum all over her as I got off over and over again. I was having a blast.

Then the dumb bitch started talking to me.

She was dead one second and the next she was alive. Just like that. Her eyes were open and she crying and going on asking me why I killed her and that she loved me and that she thought we were best friends.

Well that wasn’t any kind of a turn on, you know? I freaked and jumped off her and just wanted the dream to end right then and there. Only it didn’t end. Not for a long while. I had to listen to that girl cry and tell me all her hopes and dreams that I’d ruined and all the family that she’d left behind.

It was just annoying at first but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t in tears by the end of the fucking dream. I even woke up crying which just made rape-cop horny all over again.

As he lay there fucking me I wondered if I was having regrets about killing my best friend. I wondered if I was human after all.

A week went by before I had the same dream. They came on slowly at first but before long I was dreaming about crying Mandee every other night. I was starting to freak. I would dread going to sleep. I would drive out to Mandee’s grave during the day and beg her not to haunt me at night. I started taking speed pills just so I didn’t have to go back to that damn dream.

I was close to a breakdown and had pretty much set my mind to killing myself when I finally dreamed about… him.

Chapter 31

I was sitting on my couch with some random Mexican guy letting him fingerbang me, nodding in and out of consciousness. We’d done some meth earlier that night at a club and I promised him I’d eat his ass out when we got back to my place but it had been days and days since I’d slept. I couldn’t keep my eyes open even as he sucked on my tits and put fingers in both my pussy and asshole.

Just like that I was back in the Mandee dream. I screamed, throwing myself against the torture wall, grabbing an ice pick from the shelf. Before Mandee had a chance to start talking to me I stabbed her in the face over and over again. I hit her with the pick till my arms were exhausted and her entire upper body was a red smear on the mattress.

I turned the ice pick on myself and stabbed it into my own face a few times but I couldn’t feel anything. I threw the ice pick across the room and fell onto the floor, shouting at god, the devil or whoever to let me out of that awful nightmare. And then a funny thing happened. He answered me.

Mandee’s corpse stood up. What was left of her head and neck slowly formed a sort of makeshift face that looked like what it would look like if you smeared bloody boogers around to form a smiley face on a piece of paper only way worse than I’m describing it.

When the smiley face spoke, it wasn’t Mandee’s voice anymore. It was a deep, echoey voice that didn’t sound like it was coming from the dream. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere far, far away, but so loud that it hurt my ears.

But worse than all of that were the words he spoke. I knew he was the devil because he knew every fucked up thing I’d ever done in my life. Hell, he knew every fucked up thing I’d ever THOUGHT about doing and believe me I ain’t even scratched the surface telling you about all the fucked up fantasies that go through my head on the daily.

He stood there in Mandee’s mangled body and he made me feel like the worthless piece of shit my mother always told me I was. By the time he finished I was begging him to kill me, but he wouldn’t do it.

He raised up out of Mandee’s corpse and let her fall to a heap on the bloody mattress. He was long and thin and black. So fucking black. Blacker than anything I’d ever seen with a triangle head and these green strobing patterns that ran along his body. And here I’d always thought the devil was dog dick red.

Standing there, like that, looking like the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen, I would have done anything he asked.

And so I did.

Chapter 32

When I woke up from the devil’s dream the Mexican dude was balls deep in my ass. He was so fucked up, I don’t even think he’d realized I had passed out. Or maybe I’d only been out for a second. It had felt like an eternity.

I let him fuck me for a while, getting off several times as his short but fat cock hit all the right places in my butthole. Then, when I was satisfied, I reached under the couch and grabbed a kitchen knife I had stashed under there in case I had to deal with the real creep fuckers who wouldn’t take no for an answer on them nights I wasn’t in the mood to get fucked by dudes who don’t take no for an answer. 

The Mexican had a shitty tattoo of a dancing girl right in the center of his chest. When he took his shirt off and flexed his pecs, she’d dance. That’s how he picked up girls from the bars, I guess. He’d take his shirt off and show them how ripped and muscled he was and tell them he could make a girl dance just as good as them, then make em laugh by bouncing his tits up and down.

Well, that shitty pickup line might have got him a lot of ass but when his doomed ass came home with me, it got him killed. Right in mid stroke as he was howling in Spanish to some Mexican god probably about how tight my ass was, I turned my upper body around and I stabbed him right in the dancing girl tattoo’s butt which happened to be right over his heart.

Get this: As he froze there, eyes wide in shock, chest wound spurting blood all over my back, dancing girl tattoo twitching and hopping around like she was the one stabbed, the motherfucker came! He actually nutted inside me as he fell over on top of me and died. So weird.

Not one to waste a hard dick, I rocked back and kept fucking him till I got off on his dead dick. Can you believe it stayed hard the whole time?

I wanted to stay there and keep fucking the dead Mexican just to see if I could make his dead body cum, but the devil had other plans for me. Scooping a big handful of the Mexican’s blood, I climbed up on the couch and drew in great big letters “They’re all laughing at you!” across the wall.

Then I smeared the remainder of the blood all over my body, went into my bathroom and dumped out my makeup kit into the sink.

I fetched a wig from the bedroom then using a combination of makeup and Mexican blood, I transformed myself head to toe into the sexiest, scariest clown I could come up with. Why a clown? Fuck if I know. That’s what the devil told me to do. I walked out the door still naked, now a clown girl only the devil could love.

I drove straight down to a small highway service road in some little ass town called Medora. There I parked my car behind some big trees and then… Then I guess I passed out cause I don’t remember shit else except waking back up in this motherfucking hell of a dream.

He told me if I did exactly what he said I’d never have to come back here! I did it! I did it all. I killed the Mexican. I wrote the words on the wall exactly like he said. I dressed up like a stupid fucking clown for him and he still sent me back here! He lied to me! The fuckin’ devil! Of course he did! Of course he lied and now I’m in goddamn hell and I’ll never get out! I’ll never stop seeing Mandee’s motherfucking dead face!

Just fucking kill me, mister! Please just fucking end it! Please!

PLEASE GOD PLEASE KILL ME!

***

Be back here next Saturday, January 6th, for chapter 33! 

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 28 And 29

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SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18, click here to read chapters 19 thru 21, click here to read chapters 22 and 23, click here to read chapters 24 and 25 and click here to read chapters 26 and 27.

Chapter 28

Once I’d sawed off Ryan’s pecker, I did my best to jam it onto the end of one of his hot pokers. Let me tell you, that shit was not even a little bit easy! I probably spent half an hour trying to smoosh that slippery little piece of flesh over the metal tip of the poker. It was like trying to sculpt with raw chicken.

I guess Ryan died at some point while I was fucking with his dick. I didn’t really pay attention. I was finished with his busted ass. I had other things I needed to do before I left the murder house.

I honestly thought my first kill would be more thrilling. I’d fantasized about murdering so many people in so many horrific ways. I hadn’t even cum when I was jamming his dying dick into myself.

What a fucking let down murder is.

Once I was satisfied with the severed cock, I cuffed Mandee’s hands together and climbed on top of her chest. I was still fucked up on the drugs but the peak had long passed. I was coming down and I knew that Mandee would be, too.

I slapped her in the face, trying to wake her up.

“Mandee. Mandee! Wake the fuck up!”

She blinked and let out a whine as she came to. She tried to rub her face where I’d hit her with the crowbar. She started freaking out when she felt the handcuffs.

“W-what the fuck!” She slurred, obviously still fucked up from concussion and the roofie drugs. But she was lucid enough to have a little fun with her.

“We gotta get outta here! I killed him! I killed the motherfucker!”

Mandee looked around. She saw Ryan’s dead body laying on the floor, then she saw me sitting on top of her, holding his severed boner in my hand.

“What are you d-doing? Let me up!”

I sighed dramatically. “See that’s the thing, baby. I can’t do that.”

She started to hyperventilate when she saw me holding the metal poker with the gnarled cock on the end of it.

“See, I’m building the perfect crime scene. I’m gonna make it look like I bravely killed Ryan after he raped us both… and killed you.”

Mandee bucked hard at that point, trying with what strength she still possessed to get free. Unfortunately for her, I’d ridden some of the biggest black athletes in Hopp’s Hollow so it was gonna take more than some thrashing and hip thrusts to get me off.

Now this was more like it. My pussy was practically buzzing from the fear in Mandee’s eyes and the frantic whining and screaming coming out of her mouth.

I swear I came right there on her chest as she tried to throw me off her. That actually almost got her free. It took me a few seconds to regain my composure after I orgasmed. That was enough for her to throw my balance to the right and toss me onto the mattress.

She jumped up and ran for the key ring. Damn sly bitch had been looking at that, not at Ryan. Unfortunately for her, she had a pretty significant brain injury and ended up crashing into the wall and falling on her ass as she tried to lurch for the keys.

I took that opportunity to dash over to the torture wall and grab the first thing I saw. I jumped back over the mattress and managed to tackle Mandee from behind before she was able to get back to her feet.

What I’d grabbed was some kind of wire choker. The wire was thin and each end had a handle on it. I wrapped it around her throat and dragged her back over to the mattress. She kicked, choked and clawed at me but I managed to get her over there.

I’d fucked her up pretty good with the wire, though. It was cut pretty deep into her throat. Blood was gushing out of her and down onto her tits and stomach.

If I’d been a strong dude, I might have been able to cut her whole head off just with that one nifty little device.

I wasn’t trying to cut her head off, though. At least not yet.

What I did was, I let go of the wire handles and sat on that bitch’s face. She was beyond saving at that point so I wasn’t too worried about her getting me off of her again. Her hands were busy grabbing at the huge slice in her neck to bother with lil ole me.

I picked up the poker with the dick on the end, leaned forward and jammed it into her. I fucked that bitch real good with Ryan’s dick. Real good.

I swear, by the time I climbed off of her, she had a look on her face like I’d made her cum. She stayed looking like that too cause some combination of my coochie smothering her, the wire choker and the blood loss had killed my best friend Mandee.

I know I sound like some kinda rabbit in heat by this point with all the cumming I was doing but man oh man did that shit make my pussy flood like the goddamn Hoover dam had burst.

Two dead bodies? Two gruesome murders? Wowee. I was in goddamn murder heaven!

I lay there covered in both their blood and just beat up my little cooze for what felt like hours. I thought about what I’d done over and over again, relishing every moment.

And let me tell you something, man. Killing those two motherfuckers? That wasn’t even the best part. The best part was how I got away with it.

Chapter 29

After I’d wanked myself off to the point that my lil puss was shooting nothing but puffs of smoke out of it, I set to work on the rest of my plan.

I pulled Ryan’s dick off the poker and tossed the poker to the side. I stuck the cock in one of Mandee’s hands and laid the hand saw next to the bed to make it look like she was the one who’d cut his wiener off.

Then I dragged Ryan’s body up onto the mattress and threw him on top of Mandee, putting his hands near the wire choker.

You see where I’m going with this yet? I put the scene together to make it look like Mandee had gotten a hold of the saw, chopped Ryan’s dick off after he’d raped the both of us, and then he’d died from blood loss while choking her to death.

I know what you’re thinking. How stupid would them cops have to be to believe two people with obvious head trauma had managed to fuck each other up at the exact same time and both died from their wounds one on top of the other?

Well, lemmie tell ya, them cops were QUITE stupid! But I’m getting ahead of myself again.

I grabbed the keys and got the fuck outta murder house as fast as I could. I didn’t bother to look through the other rooms or anything. I used Ryan’s keys to take his SUV down the winding driveway, back out to the road and I floored it till I got back into cell service range.

I called the cops all babbling and screaming and whatnot, making sure to sound like the pathetic victim.

They showed up where I’d parked the SUV on the side o the road. I made sure to stay naked and bloody for when they got there.

They took me back to the little po-dunk cop shop and put me in a little room to tell them my story. They tried to give me clothes but they didn’t have a rape kit on hand and had to wait for one to get drove out there so I just sat with a blanket on my shoulders and made sure I let a nip slip out every once in a while.

You shoulda seen them cops! Every one of them crammed themselves into that little room while I bawled and squalled and went into explicit detail about how Ryan had raped me and Mandee.

I swear every one of those boys in blue had hard peckers all leaning in trying to get a good look at my bloody tits. Sick fucks, cops. They done seen it all and it takes a real whopper to get them worked up. I was the sexiest thing that’d walked into that little backwoods station in probably ever.

Now any real city cops might have done forensics and post mortem autopsies and all that other CSI junk that all them expensive ass cities can afford and I’d have probably been up shit creek when my story didn’t exactly match up to the wounds on the bodies but we’re talking a town of a thousand people in the middle of goddamn Illinois.

They did their rape kit on me and Mandee. They took samples of Ryan’s blood and cum off my face and they put them two bodies in the ground and called it a motherfucking day. Just like that.

Them country cops ain’t looking for nothing to do but watch TV and eat doughnuts. They never even called me back for a second interview. Case fuckin’ closed.

You prolly didn’t even see the story on the news. There’s so much wild shit on there every day that’s way more important than a hick bitch being kidnapped and raped by a psycho, especially since the psycho was dead.

There was a follow-up in the local paper though. It turns out that wasn’t even Ryan’s house. Hell, his name wasn’t even Ryan, it was Victor Smith and he’d offed the folks that lived there months before me and Mandee got to his place.

I never did hear anything else about other victims though which means they may not have ever found the bodies and I guess they never connected him to any other missing girls. Like I said, lazy fuckin’ country cops.

So that was that. I went home and I fuckin’ got away with a double god damn murder. Best believe I had amazing orgasms after that for months.

Get this, I even spoke at Mandee’s funeral. I got myself all worked into a fit, threw myself onto her casket and read this phony fucking eulogy I’d copied from the internet right there looking her fucking family right in the eyes.

I got off on that shit, too. There was something about having that power over them, of knowing what really happened to their daughter and being able to fool them all face to face. I felt like a goddamn pro.

I was even starting to fantasize about my next murder. I was sizing up dudes and bitches at the bar not by how sexy they were or how big their dicks were, but by the likelihood of me being able to kill them without getting caught. 

I was set to become the next Jeffery goddamn Dahmer or John Wayne fucking Gacy, man. I was ready to do it all over again. That’s when the dreams started.

***

Be back here next Saturday, December 30th, for chapter 30! 

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 26 And 27

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SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18, click here to read chapters 19 thru 21, click here to read chapters 22 and 23 and click here to read chapters 24 and 25. 

Chapter 26

Why’d I do it? Why’d I hit my best friend in the head with a crowbar after she’d saved my life from a psycho killer bent on torturing and raping us to death?

I guess the easy answer is because I could.

See, there’s a lot of my story I haven’t told you. I just told you the fun stuff, the sexy stuff, the stuff to make your dick hard. There’s LOTS of other stuff about me that I don’t tell anybody. In fact, what I’m about to tell you now I’ve never spoken out loud once in my life.

It’s my secret self. The self I keep locked away. You might even say if you were one of those head doctors who get off on this kind of stuff that the reason I’m such an outgoing slut is because it’s the easiest way to mask what’s really going on inside me.

I don’t see people as people. At least that’s what the books I read about other people like me say. I don’t really think of it like that. Sure they’re people but when it gets right down to it, I don’t really give a fuck about anybody, you understand what I’m saying?

I can pretend to care. Hell, I even told you I wanted to marry Mandee at one point because we had so much fun together. But it’s because I loved the fun we had reducing men down to just their dicks. Till that night at psycho Ryan’s house It was the closest I’d ever come to meeting somebody else like me. Shit man, maybe she was just like me only we never talked about it this way.

There were nights guys would be sleeping. Those nights I actually let a guy stay over at my place. There were nights when I would get off harder after he was asleep than when we were fucking. I would stand there over them and I would think about bashing their skulls in or putting a pillow over their faces or poisoning them. Hell, I came up with a new fantasy to kill them just about every time and man oh man did that get me off.

I guess I’ve been this way my whole life. I mean, I know my mom fucked me up bad and those books say it’s always childhood trauma that makes people into psycho killers. I guess my drunk mom laughing while her boyfriends put lit cigarettes out on my bare ass did a number on me. And that’s just the tip of the ole iceberg as far as the sadistic shit she and her men would pull on me. Shit that would make your damn skin crawl, for sure. Enough twisted shit to make me like this, for DAMN sure! 

I don’t really know and frankly I don’t really care. I came to terms with myself a long, long time ago. So when we were standing there in Ryan’s murder room and both of them were distracted trying to kill each other, I got the idea in my head. Even as zonked out on drugs as I was, I saw my plan clearly.

I knew how to get away with murder.

Chapter 27

I didn’t have to do much to Ryan. Mandee had fucked him up pretty good with all the stomping. He just lay there and wheezed. It was Mandee I was worried about. If she could curb stomp a grown man, she could snap my little ass in half without any trouble. I dragged her up onto the blood-stained mattress and hit her in the head again with he crowbar once she started moving around and moaning.

I had to be careful. If I hit her too hard or too many times I was either gonna kill her or cause her brain to swell up enough to that it would kill her pretty quick. I didn’t want that to happen, not yet.

It’s not that I didn’t like Mandee. Hell, I loved her in my own weird way. She’d never really done anything to piss me off. As far as roommates and best friends went, she was pretty fucking spectacular.

Thing is, all that goodness made my pussy that much wetter when I got to thinking about killing her. It’s easy to kill someone you don’t like. There’s not much passion in it. Like getting yourself off one too many times in a day. That last cum just ain’t that satisfying.

I dragged Ryan over next to the mattress. I didn’t like the way he was breathing and turning blue. He wasn’t gonna last much longer and I needed him for one particular thing if I was gonna pull off my plan.

If it was up to me, I’d have kept the two of them alive a few days. Hell, maybe longer if I’d actually been prepared to kill people that night. As it was I was butt ass naked and high on drugs trying to kill my best friend and get away with it in the time it took most people to decide which movie to watch on TV while they ate dinner so I figured even a little bit of fun was a bonus.

I yanked Ryan’s pants off and fished around for his keys till I remembered they’d gone flying when Mandee gave him that nut shot. I scrambled around on the floor and finally found them half-slid under the mattress. Once I had those, I stripped him the rest of the way naked and piled his clothes in the corner of the room.

He didn’t fight me much, which was a bad sign. His face was all puffy and he kept blowing little frothy red bubbles.

When I put his dick in my mouth I was half convinced it wasn’t gonna get hard which was gonna make my plan more complicated. But, to my surprise, his pecker jumped right to attention once I sucked on it for a few seconds.

I don’t know if that’s a natural reaction in all dying men or if it was a testament to Ryan’s virility. Either way After jacking his hard-on off and licking his balls for a few minutes, he was stiff as a corpse.

Maybe that’s not the best comparison considering he was basically on the verge of death while I was blowing him, but fuck it. There it is.

Quick as I could I climbed on top of him and stuck his dick inside me. His eyes rolled out of the back of his head and tried to focus on me while I rode his dick. I mashed his face with my hand, trying to push it as far away from myself as I could while not killing him. I needed him to cum first.

I got up on the balls of my feet and slammed down on his dick as hard as I could, getting it as deep into my pussy as I could. I gyrated my hips, grabbed the shaft and wiggled it around, doing my best to get as much of his DNA up inside me as possible. See where I’m going with this?

All of that fucking had Ryan twitching and turning purple in just a few minutes. I lay my head down on his stomach, jacked his dick off as fast as I could and waited for it. The dude blew a huge load all over my face. Kinda made me sad. If he hadn’t been such a fucking lunatic he would have been a nice lay.

I rolled over and lay on my back for a while, giving his load time to dry. Then I got up and walked over to his torture wall. Man he had all kinds of shit hanging there. The dude was one sadistic fuck.

I stood there admiring his hardware for a while. There were hand-saws, clamps, hot pokers, blow torches, chains, The sick freak even had custom suffocation masks designed to inflict the utmost suffering in his victims.

Imagine if I’d met him under different circumstances? We could have been some kind of psycho killer Bonnie and Clyde, luring young women back to our torture house, taking turns breaking their minds and mutilating their bodies. What a lovely couple we could have made.

As it was, he was about to choke to death on his own blood and I was about to take one of the hand saws off the wall and chop off his dick.

***

Be back here next Saturday, December 23rd, for chapter 28!