3 comments/ 11532 views/ 0 favorites Literoticum Survivor Murders Ch. 01 By: Bakeboss "OK Miss try to calm down, just tell me in your own words what happened." "Oh officer it's all my fault, he was in here writing another story for the Literoticum Survivor Contest. I just left the room for a minute to call my new boyfriend, and when I came back my husband was dead." "I see, you say he was writing, so do you have any idea why he has a condom sticking out of his mouth?" "Of course, I do, I put it there, but I always do that. I always bring hubby a souvenir when I go out and I'm sure he's always enjoyed it before..." "You mean you bring your husband a used condom home when you go out?" "Well, only if my lover feels like using one, if we go bareback I just let him clean it out of my pussy." "OK I guess I understand, please go on." "OK, where was I, Oh yeah, anyway I met a new man tonight. He was like you officer, I mean he wasn't a cop he was a big strong black man much like yourself. You know as I think about it maybe that's what the problem was." "Yes Mam please just tell me what you know." "Oh I'll tell you what I know, this nigger, oh excuse me I mean this black gentleman had the biggest cock I've ever seen." "Mam what does the size of his penis have to do with your husband's death?" "I'm trying to tell you, if you'd just let me finish. Now where was I, oh yeah this nigger's Johnson..." "Miss, do you think you can stop using that word? I find it offensive." "What, you don't like Johnson? Oh of course, I'm sorry you don't like nigger, sure I understand, it's just Raymond kept calling me his nigger bitch all night and I just got used to using the word." "Now that we have that part straight, can you please finish your story?" "OK, OK you don't have to get all huffy on me. Anyway as I was saying I always bring my husband home a cum souvenir and if it's in a rubber I just drop it in his mouth and make him bite down to get his goody. What I never thought about was Raymond's cock being so big that he always used Magnum Rubbers" "Just what does this have to do with your husband's death?" "Well duh, are you sure you're a cop? My husband was use to swallowing regular size rubbers, and I guess when I dropped this big old magnum down his gullet he choked on it. I mean I didn't have any problem swallowing Raymond all the way to his balls so why would I think my husband would have a problem with Ray's condom?" "I think I have all this down let's just see if we can verify some of the facts. You say you had no problem taking all of you lover's member down your throat so you weren't worried about your husband choking on his extra large condom. I think we should run a test to see if you're telling the truth." This dedicated officer of the law took off his holster, then open his trousers and let them drop to the floor. The new widow dropped to her knees in front of him and gently slid down his boxers thus exposing, if I may use the pun, his weapon. "Now Miss am I close to the same size as your new lover?" "Oh god I don't know but you sure look big to me, let me get you all the way hard and then maybe I can tell." The lady began to stroke the officer's member feeling it stiffen in her hand. She began to moan lowly as she felt it grow to its fullest. She looked up to to see him watching her and as she kept her eyes on him, she began inserting him into her mouth. Farther and farther, he disappeared down her throat until she had her nose nestled deep in his curly pubic hair. She kept his balls in her hand for a warning sign so she could prepare for his climax. She was ready to take all his cum when she felt his balls tighten and yet she still couldn't swallow fast enough as his issue was too huge. His cum was coming out of her mouth and even out her nose and in the end she had to pull him out of her mouth and let him finish in her face. She cleaned up his cock and helped him get dressed and as he was leaving, he told her that it looked like an accidental death to him. After the cop left, she called her boyfriend, "OK Raymond the cop bought my story; they think it was an accidental death, I think we got away with it." "That's good to hear Babe, at least now we know we won't have any more of those lousy 'Bakeboss' stories in the Literoticum Survivor contest." As soon as Raymond hung up, he called Hastings, "Everything is sweet my brother, the cops say your friend's death appears to have been accidental." The only thing Hastings said was, "I knew he was no survivor," and then chuckling he disconnected. Literoticum Survivor Murders Ch. 02 NOTE: This story is speculation on the possible fate of George Boxlicker, AKA Boxlicker101. It is not a true story, and will probably never happen. Certainly I hope it doesn't, at least not for a long time. The scenario is that, as one of the contenders in the annual Literotica Survivors' Contest, he became a target of Hastings, an envious hack writer and evil master criminal who wants to rub out as many of the other contestants as he can, eliminating the competition so he can capture first prize in the contest. * Recently I received a phone call from a woman who said she had been referred to me by one of my lady friends. The caller told me how the mutual friend had advised her to call and set up a date for some extremely satisfying eating of the caller's pussy, followed by great fucking. She told me her name was Tanya, and she had a problem finding a man for good, hot, no-strings sex. "I love good food," she told me, "And I have put on some weight because of it. The men in my life say I'm too fat to be attractive or sexually desirable, but my friend tells me you are a man who does not believe such things. Is this true? Would you possibly be interested in sex with a big woman like me? I really love having my pussy eaten, especially by a man with a bushy mustache, and I go wild when I start cumming. Is it true that's what you like? If it is, do you think we might get together some time? I think it would be fun for you too." I replied that I sounded like just the kind of man she was looking for, including the mustache. I told her that she sounded like just the kind of woman I love to eat out, somebody who enjoys sex and really lets herself go when she climaxes. I also told Tanya how much I hate being able to count a woman's ribs when I hug her. We sounded really compatible, almost made for each other, so we made a date for me to go to her apartment the next day for the kind of sex we both love so much. It's not that I had nothing else that needed doing. I was a contestant in the annual Survivors' Contest on Literotica, and I considered myself to be a strong contender for the top prize. Writing under the name of Boxlicker101, I was in second place just then and, as everybody knows, that made it necessary for me to try harder. I had a lot of stories in progress and expected to complete most of them before the end of the year but, even if I didn't get enough of them done to win first prize, I was sure I would easily finish in the money. Of course, I could only do that if I kept writing. As a contender in the contest, I made a point of keeping track of the other prolific authors who were entered. During my checking of scorecards, I had noticed a new contestant named Hastings, who had gotten a late start but was churning out stories almost as fast as I was. I didn't know anything about the newby, but I thought he or she had a good chance at winning one of the lesser prizes. At the same time, I believed there was virtually no chance of Hastings passing me or any of the others I thought of as my competition. Although I did have those claims on my time, there is nothing I like better than eating the pussy of a woman like Tanya had described herself to be, followed by doing whatever else she wanted me to do with my cock. Fucking her ass, her mouth or her pussy would all be fine with me. I would resume my writing after the carnal interlude with her, and those with other of my lady friends on other days. I wanted to do well in the Survivors' Contest, but I also like to keep my priorities straight. "Who is it?" she asked when I rang Tanya's doorbell the next day a few minutes before the time decided on. "George Boxlicker." "Oh, George, I'm so glad you came. I was afraid you might back out." I heard the sound of a bolt and a chain lock being disengaged and the door opened. When I saw the woman inside, I was glad I had come there too, and I expected both of us to do some cumming during my visit. As Tanya had told me, she was a big woman, close to six feet tall in her bare feet. Being a bit over six feet tall myself, I did not consider this to be excessive. She was about 25 years old, an African-American, with wavy black hair that cascaded past her shoulders, the way I like a woman's hair to look. Her face was very pretty too, with a milk chocolate complexion, big, brown eyes and a wide smile on her face. What I noticed most of all, however, was her gorgeous body, because this big and beautiful woman standing in front of me was completely naked. After closing the door behind us, she spread her arms for me and we embraced, with our lips finding each other. I am familiar with female anatomy but, if I did not have that knowledge, I would not have known how many ribs Tanya had. Her body was truly delightful as it pressed against mine, and her tongue was insistent. My mouth was a friendly host, and I licked its underside when she thrust it into where it was being made welcome. We kissed some more, with our tongues and our whole mouths getting better acquainted until she broke off the embrace and stepped aside, still holding my arm. "C'mon, George. Let's go to the bedroom," she said, smiling lewdly at me. I was just as eager as Tanya, but I made sure to replace the chain lock and bolt the door before following her and watching her beautiful, succulent ass as it swayed from side to side. As I entered her bedroom, I was stripping off my jacket with one hand and unbuttoning my shirt with the other. By the time she was lying on her back on the bed with a pillow under her head, both my garments were on the floor and I was using my toes to pull off my shoes. Still wearing my socks and pants, I joined Tanya on the bed and knelt beside her. The room was well-lighted, which is always a preference of mine because I like to see the affects of my actions on the lady friend in bed with me. In addition to that, gazing on a woman's alluring body, such as that of Tanya is a highly pleasurable part of any sexual adventure for me. I started to kiss her eyes and nose and her mouth again, but Tanya knew what she wanted, and pushed my face down to her breasts. They were even more luscious as she lay down, big and firm and brown and topped by darker brown nipples, and she was cupping them in her hands for me. I leaned over her and started licking the nearest of the delightful nubbins, and it quickly became fully erect under my tongue, and I could even feel the many tiny, individual ridges that made them such a tactile treat. After a few strokes on the first of her adorable nipples, I transferred my lingual attentions to the other, equally enticing breast. The tiny ridges on the second of the lovely twins felt just as erotic to my tongue as the first had, and I started alternating between them, while Tanya blissfully cooed and squirmed under my face. I was elated that I had come to see and to share carnal pleasure with this marvelously sexy woman, rather than staying at home and grinding out more dirty stories at my computer. I like writing about fun sex, but it's infinitely more fun to be actually doing such things, especially with a hotsy like Tanya. She was glad I was there too, and told me in every way how she reveled in what my mouth was doing for her breasts. Besides the sounds of happiness she was making, Tanya's movements told me just as much. As her arousal grew, she was thrusting those big, luscious mounds into my face, so I opened my mouth and drew one in, and started sucking. It was so big and gorgeous that my mouth couldn't contain it all, but I let my lips form a seal and I sucked on the peak, while my tongue continued to caress the erect nipple and Tanya's areola. While I once again, switched my attentions back and forth between the lovely pair, the movements of her body became more strenuous and erratic. They grew even wilder as my mouth continued with what it loves to do so much, and I detected another sign of how sexually excited she had become. Because of her alluringly plump belly, Tanya's pussy was hidden from view, but I smelled the delectable aroma of her fresh juices, and I knew it was time for me to transfer the attentions of my mouth farther down on her body. Beginning with the slopes of her breasts and the channel between them, I nuzzled and kissed and licked my way down her body until I was kissing her Mount of Venus. Since I much prefer to bury my face right in the crotch of a sexy woman while I'm eating her pussy, I got off the bed and climbed back on between Tanya's feet, which were spread widely apart. As I approached her on my hands and knees, she grinned lewdly and said "You know that's what I want, George. Come and get it." She raised her legs, and I ducked under them so they would rest across my shoulders. I very much wanted to go and get it, and I wrapped my arms around Tanya's soft thighs to lean closer so I could gaze on what I could be going after and getting. Once again, I was glad the lights were on, because I could see what awaited my eager mouth at the apex of her legs. She had apparently shaved her pussy that day, because her skin was smooth and glossy and absolutely flawless. Tanya's inner lips were dark brown, and looked like velvet flower petals that had blossomed through her lovely pink slit. Where they merged at their upper ends to form her clit hood, I could see the precious little cutie they were supposed to be protecting where it was peeking out from behind their folds. As I leaned in closer, the scent I had detected a minute earlier was intoxicating, and I breathed deeply of the heady aroma. Her juices clung to the insides of Tanya's thighs and to her swollen lips, and I sampled a small trickle from the latter. It was ambrosia! Not wanting to let even a drop of the precious fluid go to waste, I began licking one thigh. Eating Tanya's pussy would be a delight to all my senses, including hearing, because her cooing had turned to blissful moans, which were music to my ears. But, as fabulous as those were, the sense of mine that was being pleasured the most was that of touch. As my tongue sluiced the fresh nectar into my mouth, I reveled in the soft texture of her skin, which was even better than the treat my taste buds were receiving. After cleaning all the juices from one thigh, I treated her other leg the same way. When I had finished everything there, I began on her crotch, reaching as far underneath her as possible with my tongue, and I took as long as was necessary to get every single drop. As delightful as her body had felt to my tongue and lips so far, I knew the softest and smoothest and most thrilling parts were still ahead of me, and my mouth began slowly caressing Tanya on one of her smooth outer lips. She felt even better there than her thighs had, like a warm satin pillow, but vibrant. Tanya relished what I was doing too, and her pussy and her whole lower body were squirming under me. Very slowly, making the incredible pleasure last for both of us, I licked all the way to her mons, where I raised my head and looked over her sexy belly and gorgeous breasts to gaze upon her beautiful face. Tanya's eyes were closed; her mouth was partly open in a blissful smile, and her head was tossing fitfully from side to side on her pillow. I grinned at how much pleasure I was giving this truly lovely woman, and brought my face down below her love hole and devoured the fresh nectar that had just been produced. After I had licked off everything, I started on her other outer lip. The second one felt every bit as good to my mouth as the first one had, and I treated it the same way. Once again, I kissed her Mount of Venus and raised my head to survey her reactions. Tanya's body was rocking from side to side on her ass; her arms were pummeling the mattress, and her legs were moving up and down, with her thighs thumping softly against my shoulders. Her precious little clit, which had been peeping out from under its protective hood, was so swollen with lust it had almost pushed its way out from under those folds. When I knew it was time for the lady to climax, I would take the succulent morsel inside my mouth, but that time had not arrived yet. What had arrived was a veritable cataract of Tanya's nectar flowing down her crotch, and I eagerly devoured it and started licking between an inner and an outer lip. When I reached the place where the labia were close together, I thrust my tongue into the seam and caressed both of them at the same time, reveling in the spongy, swollen feel of the inner lip. She must have had some sweet spots there that my tongue stimulated because, by the time I licked all the way to her clit hood, Tanya's movements had become even more strenuous, and she was whimpering from the extreme pleasure and begging me to suck her clit and make her cum. I could have, and I would have, but I believed her excitement hadn't reached its highest possible level yet. There are certain signs I have learned to watch for, and Tanya hadn't gotten so aroused that those signs were visible, so I brought my mouth back down to her delectable pink hole and started licking between the other pair of lips. I treated this pair the same as I did the first two labia, including paying special attention to the extremely smooth and sensitive area between their origins. Once again, I licked between the lips simultaneously and took a long time to reach Tanya's clit hood. When my mouth finally got there, the little swollen cutie had pushed its way completely out from under its protection, and her hips were swiveling under my face, thrusting her legs out and back past the sides of my head. She was sobbing from the intense pleasure I was giving her and, when I looked down, I saw her thighs had rotated slightly outward, presenting her pussy even more fully than it had been. I knew from those signs that her arousal was at its maximum. She was as excited as she could get, and it was time for Tanya to start cumming. Moving my face slightly upward, I engulfed her adorable clit in my mouth and started sucking. While my lips formed a seal, my cheeks worked like a bellows and my tongue caressed the swollen top and sides of the little darling. Tanya's movements became even more strenuous, as she had told me they would, and she bounced up and down all over the bed. Abruptly, she warbled ecstatically that she was cumming. Her big, strong legs squeezed my temples, and her hands grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face tightly into her pussy, which was ramming even harder up against my face. Her sweet voice crooned of the delights she was feeling, and her legs swung from side to side, yanking me all over the bed. I kept my mouth clamped snugly onto Tanya's clit and sucked and licked as I enjoyed one of the wildest rides of my extensive experience. When she climaxed, the young hotsy sang of the event even more joyously and bounced on the bed even harder and higher. Her movements were so violent that she actually rolled over on top of me, just as she rammed her pussy against my face for an ultimate time. After her tremendous orgasm, Tanya completely relaxed, and I tried to move my face so I could feast on all the fresh juices that I knew her pussy had produced while she was cumming. I could feel them dripping onto my chin and neck, and I hated to have something so delicious go to waste. The sensation of her delightful wet pussy pressed tightly against my face was thrilling, until I realized that her soft body was covering my nose and mouth. I was unable to reach her pink hole to feast on her fresh juices. Even worse, it suddenly occurred to me that I was unable to breathe. I wasn't concerned about either situation until I tried to gently push Tanya far enough to one side to allow me to continue breathing while I devoured the rest of her nectar. She wouldn't move, and I pushed her again, a lot less gently that time. Tanya still didn't budge, and I started getting desperate. I really needed to breathe, and I was starting to get a bit lightheaded. I tried to wrestle her off me but, as I said before, she was a BIG beautiful woman, and I couldn't seem to get the leverage I needed. I heard her voice then. "Sorry, George. You did a really great job eating my pussy, and I came really big time. I'll miss you, and I wish we could do it some more, but Hastings says he can get me into the movies, and I gotta think of my future." Suddenly the weight of Tanya's pussy pressing against my face grew heavier. I felt a pair of hands, and they couldn't have been hers, immobilizing my arms by pinning them against the mattress. "That's Hastings, Tanya informed me. "He just climbed on top of me to make sure you aren't able to move me off your face." I heard another voice, a man's voice this time, and one I hadn't heard before. It was soft and low, and almost gentle, but the words he said were pure menace. "She's right, Box. I really need to win the Survivors' Contest, and I got a late start, so the only way is to eliminate the competition. I like your stories, and I'll miss them and you, but business is business." I struggled as hard as I could, but the combined weight of Tanya and Hastings and his hands pressing my arms against the mattress were too much for me to overcome. As my brain started shutting down from the lack of oxygen, a jest floated back to me, one I included in one of my earliest stories: "I felt like I was being smothered. This would be about the best way to die I could imagine, smothered by Judy's glorious pussy, with its incredible taste and aroma and texture but I didn't want to die yet." The last thought I had was that old joke really was the truth. For somebody who loved to eat pussy as much as I did while I was alive, about the best way I could think of to die was being smothered by a truly delectable one such as the beautiful and fragrant and delicious organ at the apex of Tanya's legs. After that, everything went dark as my brain shut down forever. * Thank you for reading this story. I hope you had as much fun as Tanya did, and as much fun as I had before I died. I like writing stories on Literotica, but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them, and I appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most authors on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such feedback, whether praise or criticism, helps me to write more and better stories, and I respond to it whenever I can. Literoticum Survivor Murders Ch. 03 Hastings cursed as he viewed the Literoticum's "Survivor Contest ScoreCards" list. He was number 10 on the list. TENTH PLACE! After all his hard work, the sleepless nights he stayed awake, working on his stories; writing, rewriting, perfecting, and nurturing them as you would a small child. He knew 10th place was nothing to be ashamed of, but he also knew he was the best. This year would be especially hard. Hastings had entered the Survivor Contest for the last 5 years but it was always the same thing. Close, but not close enough! Each time others beat him out of placing at the last moment by submitting dozens of stories at once. He had vowed not this year and he had been carefully watching the score card since the beginning. But unfortunately his job had made unexpected demands on his time given the economy. He had submitted enough of his stories to remain in the top ten. He had dozens of more for submitting at the last moment; he had learned to play that game. But it was not going to be enough to take out the leaders this year. Wife2hotblk, Boxlicker, Bakeboss, Familyguy and the others were just too far ahead. But desperate times called for desperate measures. "Sure," he thought to himself, "they're ok, but not even in the same league as his. I'll show them, I'll show each and every one of them, who the greatest survivor writer, really is!" He had sent emails to the editors of the website. Explaining why he should be in first place. At first they assured him that the point system decided the winners, not the editors, but soon they tired of his persistent complaining and stopped answering his letters all together. He wrote letters to the other writers and entered into forums, commenting on the injustice and the flaws in the system, but he was either ignored or publically ridiculed about his comments. "Get a life, loser" or "You are in the top ten, live with it!" or "Man, are you paranoid!" "Ignore me, laugh at me, and call me paranoid!" Hastings thought. "How dare they? I will take care of those other mediocre survivor writers. They are all in this together the editors, the Literoticum board of directors and their buddy buddy writer friends. I'll get them, those other writers who stole my first place!" His mind continued to dwell on the solution. The question was not should he, or even when should he, kill them. The question was how he would exact his revenge on those conniving authors who had bribed their way and manipulated the system to get to the top of the Literoticum's "Survivor ScoreCard" list. "Yes!" He though. "I will take care of them, but each one had to be eliminated just right. After all, I am a poet, and poetic justice requires some careful thought." As the Wicked Witch of West once said, "These things must be done carefully!" That was a few weeks ago and he had already taken care of some of the authors. The question was who's next? He decided his next victim would be a writer who went by the name of "Familyguy". Most of his stories involved incest themes. A real sicko! So, he likes incest huh! I'll give him incest!" Hasting thought to himself. "So Familyguy, you are next!" he thought. He carefully planned his strategy. Step 1-Win Familyguy's confidence. Step 2- Set up a meeting. Step 3- Eliminate Familyguy! He started sending emails to Familyguy using a different a different email address and name, telling him that he was a publisher named Bill Presel who admired his writing and wanted to meet with him to talk about possibly publishing a collection of his stories. It worked! Familyguy or Buck, as Hasting came to know him by, was completely taken in and very flattered that someone whould be interested enough to want to publish a book of his stories. They agreed to meet at a local coffee shop to discuss, publishing his work. Hastings had carefully planned everything. The meeting place, the knock-out drops, the rope to tie him up, and the gag to keep him from crying out, everything was carefully thought out. As they sat and discussed Buck's future, Hasting was quite cordial and attentive, promising him fame and fortune. Then, while Buck excused himself to use the restroom, Hasting, taking advantage of the moment, slipped the downers into his coffee. About thirty minutes after Buck had returned and had finished his coffee, he started to feel very dizzy. Hasting, showing concern for his new found friend, offered to help him to his car so he could lie down for a minute and recover. As soon as they were outside the coffee shop, Buck blacked out. Hastings removed Buck's keys from his pocket and hit the auto door lock on the keychain. Buck's car beeped, giving away its location and Hastings quickly carried him to the car and tied and gagged him. He looked in Buck's wallet and obtained his address. He then drove him in Buck's car to his apartment. He went up to the apartment door and rang the bell several times. No answer. "Good," he thought. "No one's here!" He then carried an unconscious Buck into his apartment and laid him on the couch. Buck started to come to and saw he was home. He was bound, gagged and completely helpless. He looked at his captor with frightened eye that said "Why?" Hasting smiled at his victim and said, "I'll bet you are wondering why I am doing this, you amateurish piece of shit. Well, I'll tell you why. You might as well know why you are going to die. You see, I am very familiar with the crap you call writing, especially that one story, "Mom and Sis Get Fucked", and while a few parts have some merit, it does not compare with my stories. Yet you somehow convinced all your buddies at Literoticum that yours were the better stories and somehow they took precedence over mine! I know all about your little group of elite VIPs. How you all get together and fix it so none of us outsiders have a chance of winning! Well it's time to pay the piper Mr. Familyguy. Time for you and your corrupt friends to pay for your evil ways! " Buck looked at Hastings realizing this man was insane and quite serious, but due to the gag, could not reply. Hastings continued. "You are going to take an overdose of sleeping pills. You see, although your story was fiction, your feelings toward your own mother and sister are not. You are going to kill yourself, because you can no longer stand the guilt of wanting to really fuck your real life mother and sister. At least that is what you will say in your suicide note. Then after taking the rest of the sleeping pills you will quietly slip away into oblivion where you belong. Hastings then produced a paper and pencil from Buck's desk and loosened Buck's restrained wrist enough for Buck to write the note. He informed Buck that if he did not cooperate, he would be castrated and fed his own genitals. He also was told that his mother and sister's lives depended on Buck doing as he was told. Buck reluctantly wrote the words Hastings dictated. "Dear Mother and Sister", he wrote, "I can no longer stand the thoughts that keep running through my mind, about wanted you both sexually. I know it is wrong but I can't help it. I tried to exorcize these feeling through my writings, but it didn't work. I only became more obsessed with wanting you both! Please forgive me, Buck." Hastings then pinched Buck's nose forcing him to open his mouth and drink the rest of the sleeping pills which were already premixed in a glass of water. Buck felt his tears, running down his cheeks. He knew he was a dead man. Hastings waited patiently, explaining to the dying writer exactly what he didn't like about his work, adding insult to injury. Then Buck's vision became blurry and slowly all respirations ceased. Hasting checked his pulse to make sure he was dead, and untied him, removed the gag, and placed the suicide note in his hands along with copies of his incest stories, which he found in a file, and scattered them around the dead author. He carefully wiped all possible fingerprints away and left. He headed, a few blocks away, to a liquor store, whistling while he walked and called a cab which he took back to his car. "I feel better already!" He thought. "How fitting! The incest writer dies of his own feelings of guilt about incest. Perfect! Let's see, who's next?" He couldn't stop smiling as he drove home. Another day, another author. Literoticum Survivor Murders Ch. 04 Tara Edward's hand trembled as she applied the mascara to her distinctive green eyes. She was ambivalent about this. For over two years, she had battled to remain faithful to those promises she had made to the man she loved deeply...even now. 'For better or worse, for rich or poorer, in sickness and health; forsaking all others till death do you part.' But the past five years had brought too much sickness, poverty and worse. It had taken its toll on her and Brian, her husband. This latest trial, the loss of their second child, seemed to be a wave of sorrow too deep for her to recover. Even after three months on anti-depressants and hours upon tedious hours of counselling, she still found herself a defeated shadow of her former self. Each day she felt less a woman. She stood for long periods of time staring in the huge mirror in the bathroom. She counted each grey hair before dying them a dark, red-brown. She followed each deepening line in the face that had once been girl-next-door pretty and still hid her forty-four years better than most. She lifted the sagging breasts that had nourished her four children and pinched rolls of skin that hung lose on her tummy from the pregnancies. She supposed she was luckier than many women her age. Thanks to good genetics from the bastard that had been her biological father most people guessed her age a decade or so younger than she actually was. Her legs too still turned heads, even young ones, when she wore her typical mini-skirts. But if you took a second look you would notice the faint blue lines running like road maps beneath the pale porcelain skin even when it was tan. She cursed fate that wasted youth on the young. She longed for the wild days of her youth or even her thirties. Perhaps one the hardest parts about the miscarriage was that it was a reminder that she was growing older. Her biological clock was on snooze control and after the miscarriage she was even afraid to try again. She was tired, depressed and feeling decidedly unsexy despite the erotic stories that she wrote most days while her three year old daughter was at nursery. She had actually begun writing the stories as a way of living out her fantasies of screwing hard-bodied, young black men barely older than her own sons. For almost a year her writing as wife2hotblk had allowed her to escape the monotony of her life and marriage. She could become once again the desirable and sexy woman that had taken on ten virile black men in a gangbang...and out fucked and sucked them all. She loved her husband, whom she often referred to as her rock. She adored their young daughter, whose cherubic little face was a lighter version of her father's deep chocolate. She had finally found the stability and unconditional love that she had sought since the night that her biological father had abandoned her and her pregnant mother when she was younger than her daughter, Ella. From that moment on, she had lost a precious thing...trust. It was not what she wanted for her beloved Ella, which was why for the past two years she had waged this constant battle to remain faithful to her husband. It was not that she did not find him attractive. She did. He was everything she found attractive in a man. He was broad shouldered with enough 'cushion for the pushin' as the saying goes. His thighs were like tree trunks and his arms saplings. His neatly shaved head glistened in the sunlight. Of course, it was his dark chocolate skin that sometimes took her breath away and flooded her panties. But since they lost the baby, sex had gone from a weekly occurrence to a monthly. As a woman not far removed from her sexual peak, she would have preferred three or more times a day. Of course, whenever she brought the subject up, her beloved Brian assured her that he still loved her and found her desirable. But work and life seemed to be battering their sex lives. So it was that she had come to this point: an affair with a young stranger from the Internet. It had all begun as innocently as the hundreds of other 'fan' emails she had received over the past year. Her response had been the same polite tome that she accorded all of them. But somewhere over the weeks it had turned to a more sexual banter. It was not unlike the type of word games and flirting that had begun hers and Brian's relationship so long ago. Still she reasoned that it was innocent enough and within the boundaries that she and her husband had agreed forbid cyber sex...or more. Today was definitely that more. After over a month of increasingly explicit sexual banter, she was going to actually meet Hastings, who was another writer at Literotica and an unbelievably gorgeous young black man. He was holidaying in London and wanted to meet his Survivor competition as he called her. She had been reluctant at first. She feared that the man in the flesh would be too tempting. She had re-read her article...Three Ways Not to Have an Affair. She had taken her own advice. She had carefully broached the sensitive topic of sex for perhaps the hundredth time with Brian. Of course, it was the same litany; things at work were bad, it wasn't her. She had reminded herself of all the good things about their life, especially Ella. She had spent the whole night before just staring into her beatific face as she slept. Tara had been distracting herself too by pounding her sexual frustrations away on the keys of her laptop. She had submitted several more stories just in time for the big year end push with the Survivor Contest too. But many of them had starred the hunk whose pictures were password protected on her computer. His hard body was a slightly leaner version of her husband and dream man. His skin was slightly lighter than Brian's, but his broad chest was scattered with the same tight, bristly, dark chest hair that she adored. Of course, she knew that her hubby could easily by-pass any password protection that she had. He was after all a computer technician with British security agency MI5. But theirs was not a suspicious marriage. He had all of the passwords to her email accounts; even the naughty one to which all her fan mail, including Hastings', came. Brian never used them and she had never given him any reason to doubt her...until now. She sighed heavily; half in fear and half in excitement as she heard the knock at the door and rushed down the stairs. She tugged at her mini-skirt and hesitated a moment before throwing open the door. *** Brian Edwards threw open the door to the three bedroom flat that he shared with his wife, Tara, and their three year old daughter. He immediately sensed it...death. It was the same feeling that he had known for almost his entire adult life; a feeling he had brought into more than a few places. It clung like tarry-filth to his dark skin. No matter how hot the showers he took before climbing between the cool, cotton sheets with his wife each night, he still felt dirty. He supposed after almost two decades of his job with MI5 it was to be expected. No one had held his post this long...cleaner. The guy that they went to when diplomacy and everything else failed. When someone needed to disappear or worse, they called him. True enough, most of the time he simply sat at a desk with everyone else. His cover as a computer tech was not exactly a lie. Ninety-percent of the time that was an accurate portrayal of his job. But it was that other ten percent that made him unclean. Unlovable. A liar...and a murderer. That was what Tara never understood. What he could never tell her. It was tearing them apart; more each day. Some part of him accepted the burden of the loss of their baby as his karmic justice. But why Tara? Why did she have to pay for his sins? With the pills and counselling he had thought things were getting better, but these past couple of weeks she had been acting different. The doctor had warned them when she began taking the anti-depressants that they might cause suicidal thoughts. He had watched her closely those first few weeks, but she seemed to be fine. Then last night he had felt her trying to sneak out of bed. He knew that was what she did when she wanted or needed to cry. Like him, her childhood and especially her father's abandonment had taught Tara to never cry. It was a sign of weakness. When they had first learned that their baby had died, more nights than not Tara had slipped down the stairs. He had found her each morning curled up on the couch with her eyes red and puffy. It was not that he did not care. He simply did not know how to help. He did not know what to do or say to make things better. He knew there really was nothing he could do or say. So as he had been trained to do, he bore his pain in silence. When he felt her trying to slip from their marital bed again and seek the refuge of the dark in which to pour her tears, he had had enough. He reached out and grabbed her arm, drawing her into the protective strength of his embrace. He was rocked; shaken to his core by the huge, gulping sobs that racked his wife's body for what seemed for hours, but were probably only minutes. Even Ella, who slept in her toddler bed next to theirs since she became ill, had woken a bit at the sound. He had quieted the baby so she could return to the land of peaceful dreams, but it was beyond his ability to gift his beloved wife with the same. So from the moment that Ella's nursery called to say that her mother had not picked her up and that they could not reach her at home, he had known something was wrong. No matter how low Tara got, she would never, ever, never forget Ella. The moment he had opened the door and felt that too familiar presence his heart had sped up. It was pounding in his broad chest, lightly dusted with the short, springy dark hairs that fascinated his beautiful wife. He called out her name, trying hard not to sound too alarmed just in case he was wrong. But when she did not respond in her distinctive Southern accent, he knew he was not mistaken. Taking the stairs two and three at a time as fast as his powerful legs could take him, he threw open the bathroom door and was relieved to not see the stereotypical tub of pink water and his wife slumped beneath the water. He threw open the door to Ella's toy room as well; although he could not for a moment think his wife would go there...not for this. He padded down the hall. Only two rooms remained. As he pushed open the door to the small office they shared, he drew a deep breath. Holding it, he turned to face the final room; their bedroom. Pushing it open too, he stood frozen at the sight before him. Tara's green eyes were staring fixed at the ceiling. Her hands and feet were bound with silken straps to the bed. Her hands were clasped into tight fists as if fighting to break free of the bonds. Her full figure was encased in a stunning black and red bustier that in any other situation would arouse him. Black stocking covered her shapely legs and her red high-heels were tossed at the foot of the bed. But the thing that he could not close his eyes to was the massive black plastic dildo that protruded from her bluish lips. He did not need to feel for a pulse to know that his wife was gone. He had seen enough death to know he would never again touch her warm skin or hear her sweet voice. His training took over then. He would not have the police find her body this way. Taking his mobile phone from his jacket pocket, he dialled his team. The scene the police would find would, as hard as it was to manage, reflect what he had originally feared most...a suicide. They would not see his wife like this. He might have failed her in life; not been the husband she needed, the husband he should have been. But he would be damned if he would fail her now. Even before his team arrived he began to do what he did best: clean up messes. He grabbed her laptop from the table next to the bed. He used her passwords to open files as he tried to mimic her flowery style of writing in the hardest letter he could imagine writing...his wife's suicide note. When that was done, he had looked around the room for signs of the murderer. Since there would be no crime scene photos or official investigation, he memorised each item; looking for anything out of place. After that, he faced the hardest task of all; touching the cold and lifeless body of the woman that he loved so deeply. He began by lifting each leg tenderly. He loosened the straps that bound them to the bed. He traced the purplish bruises around her ankles. He knew that the team would have to cover those. Then slowly crawling up the bed they had shared for almost five years, he untied the silken bindings from her small hands as well. Bringing the clenched fist slowly to his full lips, he prayed for strength to get through what was to come. The worst was pulling the offensive shiny black plastic dildo from between her bluish lips. Bending his shiny, dark head forward, he used his fingers to slowly close the lids over those remarkably green eyes. Then with all the hurt and pain...and yes, betrayal...welling inside of him, he bent and for the last time pressed his lips to her cold and unmoving ones. 'I know I failed you. I wasn't the man or the husband I should have been. You deserved more,' he whispered as he brushed the reddish-brown hair back from her still face. 'But I promise you two things. I will make sure that Ella knows her mummy...forever.' He laid the clenched fist he had been holding over her heart and reached for the other. 'And the bastard that betrayed you...betrayed us...will pay. With his life.' *** Tara's spirit huddled in the corner of their bedroom. From the moment that she first realised Hastings' true intention this was what she hated most: hurting Brian, Ella and her other children. Looking at the tears she saw falling unchecked down his dark face, she knew that she deserved everything. She was the one that had failed. She had betrayed her vows, her husband, their love and the family they had built. And she deserved not only to die, but the horribly ironic death she had endured as well. But her family did not. This man that she loved so deeply did not. Ironically, over the past few months, she had often thought that they would be better off if she were dead. Of course, she lacked the courage to take her own life. It had been more a vague wish, but in those final moments before the darkness had overtaken her, she had realised how very, very much she had wanted to live. But it was too late then as she fought the madman, who called himself Hastings. She screamed out her pain, but no one could hear. She begged and pleaded for just one moment, for some way of communicating with her hurt partner. She wanted to apologise...as if she could. She wanted to beg his forgiveness. But most of all, she wanted to tell him how much she really, truly did love him one more time. But she could not, and she supposed that she deserved that as well. She would for eternity remember the sight of his hurt and pain-laced face as he sat there next to the shell that had once been her body; his large dark hands covering her pale ones. It was ironic. One of her favourite photographs and the one she used on her profile as a Literoticum author was not that dissimilar. His dark hand clasped her much smaller and paler one. He had taken that picture the day that they bought her engagement ring. Over the years, it had come to symbolise who they were...a union of two races, two nationalities and two cultures...blending through Ella in perfect harmony. And she destroyed all that. Tossed it aside for the promise of fleeting pleasure. She deserved it all. Her silent sobs added in chorus to Brian's. Then she heard it over her shoulder. It was the unmistakable high pitched cry of a little child. Turning she looked into the light. A little girl stood there. She had curly hair like Ella's except lighter even, almost blondish. Her eyes were the most captivating mixture of brown and green as if they belonged more on a cat than a little girl. She was staring at Tara with her hands behind her back. 'I'm Hope. Have you seen my mummy. She gonna come play with me,' the little girl dropped her head as she finished. Tara knew. Any mother would. This was her little girl. Their baby that she lost. She knew that she did not deserve this mercy, but her heart leapt at it. She supposed that was what mercy was...for the undeserving. For a moment, she turned for a final look at her husband, Brian, her rock. Her unheard whisper echoed in her heart. 'You take care of Ella. I have to go now. Our Hope needs me. Until we meet again. I love you...forever.' She walked into the light then, taking the tiny toffee coloured hand that the girl held out to her. 'I'm your mummy,' she whispered as she tugged the tiny form into a tight hug as if to never let go. Literoticum Survivor Murders Ch. 05 Sean closed his eyes and drew a deep breath into his lungs trying to steady his nerves. If the information he'd be given was accurate then she'd be here soon, probably in the next half an hour to twenty minutes. She was of course a creature of habit like most people. It had taken nearly a week for Sean to clear his calendar of work and social issues to memorize the pattern. Of course all of the info on his "victim" had been provided by his benefactor but the same man had told him this was supposed to be a real as possible so the information might have a few flaws in it. The low rumble of an SUV engine turned his attention just slightly. After a week of stalking her he knew the sound of her vehicle. Traffic must have been thick because the sky blue Explorer should have been turning the corner about five minutes ago at six forty. It didn't really matter she was within acceptable parameters. Sean watched her stop halfway down the block and hop out quickly to collect the mail before pulling into her driveway. It was nothing to sneak in the garage in the Explorer's blind spot. The lovely piece of fuck flesh stepping out of her SUV was named Fiona and she was a twenty eight year old mother of two though she wasn't dressed like a mother. She was wearing a pair of do me high heels with straps halfway up her calf. Even if they'd continued up to her knees they wouldn't have met her skirt which ended just far enough below her ass to keep a man guessing at her undergarments even if she leaned over. Her shirt didn't always meet her skirt either; it depended on how deeply she was breathing if you could catch a glimpse of her belly chain, a thin golden thing with a dangle just over her naval. The exact same moment of time was incredibly different for the two involved. For Sean it may have been the longest period of time in his life. Everything could go wrong and a flood of maybes struggled in his mind. Maybe she'd heard him. Maybe she saw his reflection. Maybe she'd turn around for no good reason. Maybe soccer practice was cancelled and the kids and their father would be back. Perhaps there are only so many maybes in the world because as soon as he touched her there were so many less maybes in his head and so many more in hers. The moment started of incredibly fast for the victim who didn't even realize she wasn't alone until one hand covered her mouth and another twisted one of her arms behind her. At that point she only had one maybe. Maybe it was tonight. As she was twisted around and pinned against the cool metal of her vehicle a flood of new maybe's flooded her brain. Maybe this wasn't the guy. Maybe he was going to hurt her. Maybe soccer practice was cancelled and the kids and their father would be back. That last one they shared. "Don't you fucking scream if you don't want me to gut you like a fish." Sean snarled into her ear. He didn't wait for her to answer with a nod instead he slipped his hand away from her mouth. Fiona would have rolled her eyes if he hadn't pressed something sharp against her kidney and if not for the coldness of his voice. "That's right. You know nobody is coming to save you so you might as well just do as I tell you and we'll get you through this just fine. Now pull off your panties." She whispered that she wasn't wearing anything and felt the immediate response. Something stabbing into her back but this wasn't the weapon. "You're a little fucking whore aren't you? What about a bra, are you at least wearing a bra?" She nodded that she was. "Please don't hurt me." Fiona whimpered. He barked for her to take it off and slowly stuttering she obeyed. Sean took a deep breath inhaling the scent of her perfume. It was a delicious scent that hinted at vanilla and cinnamon and brought a smile to his lips. Fiona felt a shiver travel the length of her spine noticing the predatory act. Could the beast actually smell her fear? Or worse, could he smell her arousal? She was already aware of the slick forming between her bared thighs. "Please don't hurt me." "I'm not trying to hurt you." He took her bra from her and twisted it around her wrists fastening it to bind her wrists in place. "But I will if I have to." Lifting her easily onto his shoulder he walked to the door and tossed her onto the couch. Fiona's breath caught in her impressive chest when she landed on the cushions. He was a real man and he knew exactly what he wanted from her. Without thinking about it Fiona let her legs fall apart. "I knew you wanted it." Sean lustfully growled as he approached. Her legs quickly clenched back together. "Too late for that. You think I didn't see?" Fiona felt her face burn with a hot blush but even if her mind didn't control her body it still controlled her lips. She knew he could see how hard her nipples were or that her legs were quivering even as tightly clenched as they were and if he couldn't smell her before he must have been able to see her thighs glisten with her juices. "You want this as bad as I do. Maybe worse. But I knew what kind of woman you were the first time I saw you." From behind his back he pulled the biggest knife she'd ever seen. The knot that clenched her stomach wasn't lust and the scream that parted her lips wasn't of pleasure. It only had time to part her lips before she felt the cold metal against her throat. "Shut the fuck up." It was only when he turned the blade downward to slit her dress that she realized he'd been pressing the dull edge to her throat. There is something incredible about cutting a woman out of her clothing, something that reaches back to the primal urge to just tear her shirt open but without the requisite upper body strength. Fiona did her best to hold her body completely still, the last thing she wanted was to get cut squirming. It only took a moment to get all of her beautiful body into view. The predator was back in Sean eyes. They were roaming her smooth flesh like a pack of wolves. "It's no wonder every man in the neighborhood wants a piece of you." Teeth were bared in what was actually a smile but Fiona saw a snarling beast. Sean gripped her bra bound wrists and yanked her up to her feet. "I mean look at these fuck bags!" Fiona tried to curl her arms down to cover herself but her reward was a quick series of slaps that left her with tears in her eyes. "You can stop pretending like you aren't loving this." The snarl widened to reveal his teeth. "I'm not enjoying this!" Sean spun her around leaning her over the couch and jamming three fingers into her soaked cunt. "Stop." She whispered so softly that even she wasn't certain she'd spoken. She tried to say it louder but the word caught in her throat when Sean started pumping his fingers brutally into her pussy. Soon Fiona wished he'd start taunting her again so wouldn't have to hear the evidence of her arousal. The sweet aroma of her arousal wasn't humiliating enough, now she had to hear his fingers sloshing inside her. Her hips were starting to seek out the fingers pumping back towards them. She tried to ask him once more to stop but all that came out was a moan that she cut off by shutting both her eyes and mouth. "Not enjoying it?" Sean pulled his fingers free and used the same hand to grab her face and twist her back towards him. "Just admit you're a loving this. That you're little faggot husband doesn't get you off." Fiona's eyes flared at the mention of her husband and she tried to bite but Sean was quick enough that all she really tasted were her juices. Despite herself a shudder of pleasure traveled through her. It was a struggle to keep from licking her lips. Fresh shame flushed her body turning her milky flesh a rosy pink. She was loving this. It was the first time in her life she'd felt like a woman and it was getting harder to deny. Sean gave her a couple of heartbeats to let the realization sink in. He must have seen it in her eyes or just known somehow. Fiona howled more from surprise than pain when Sean yanked her off the couch by one ankle and twisted her so her back was against the couch and only her shoulders and the tips of her toes could reach the carpet. Then he plunged his cock into her in. Much to Fiona's shame it he didn't have to fight. She was so slick that a single downward thrust buried his cock in her to the hilt. Fiona wanted to cry but she couldn't pretend she wasn't enjoying the way his cock felt slipping in and out of her greased hole. She couldn't deny wonderful it felt to be taken by a real man. Fiona was nearly drawing blood from her lower lip in a desperate attempt to keep from crying out. She could at least keep that tiny victory for herself and not let him know that she loved this. If she opened her mouth she knew the words that would come out of her mouth would shame any harlot. "You know it's really no fun when you're so quiet." Sean growled playfully. "Why don't you admit it huh? Admit that you're just a tiny bit of fuck flesh." He slowed his pace to an agonizing crawl and started massaging her clit. The first touch of his fingers might have been a lightning bolt for the way her shocked body jolted. "See?" He taunted. Sean was an expert with his fingers keeping Fiona guessing which direction his delicious assault would come from or where it would be headed. "I'll stop right now if you say stop." Sean teased. Fiona looked up into her rapists eyes and hardened hers. It would be easy to say that one word and this would all be over with. He'd leave her here alone already violated but not yet satisfied. Her husband would come home and she'd make love to him and fall asleep unsatisfied but then she'd at least be able to say she told him to stop. That was a woman and not a lust crazed, fuck addicted, bitch in heat like this grinning predator was claiming. She opened her mouth slowly making certain it was going to obey her will. The moment Fiona told him to fuck her Sean instantly picked up the pace and flung her headlong into the most explosive orgasm she'd ever experience. It was like the world shattered, reformed and shattered again before slowly melting back together into something that resembled the world. She was babbling. Words she'd never heard herself saying were flowing from her lips. It didn't even seem real at that point. There was no way that a mother of two could be begging a rapist to fuck her. It simply wasn't possible and at the same time it was happening. Filthy words flowing from a woman's mouth have the same effect on nearly every man ever born. It excites them and for Sean it was even stronger right then. His victim was digging her heels into his butt pulling him farther into her. She'd have rub burn all down her shoulders and back from the brutal rutting that had driven her from her shoulders to her back. "That's it girl. Almost done here." Sean roughly took a fistful of her hair and twisted her head to one side kissing and licking along her neck searching for the just right spot to leave a hickie when he balls started to tighten. A fresh wave of horror crossed Fiona's mind as she felt his manhood begin to quiver. The mother of two had some idea of what it meant when a man's hips started to loose their rhythm or his grip on a woman suddenly tightened. He was about to come. He was about to come inside her. Her mind started flooding suffering from a new list of maybes. "Please don't cum in me!" She shouted but he ignored her other than to drive himself even deeper and growl something foul in her ear. "Please I'll do anything!" She knew how hard it was for him to slow down but he managed that much. She could feel his organ throbbing in time to his . . . no their heartbeat. She hadn't noticed when that had happened. She didn't notice until he made her his one and only offer and her heart skipped a beat. Fiona shuddered and nodded just in time for Sean to yank out and splatter her chest and belly with his cum. That toothy predatory smile was back. He already had her by the hair so he hauled her up onto her hands and knees and half dragged half lead her to the bathroom. He pushed her head down against the toilet seat and his sickening smile widened. "Open wide." Sean held her in place with one hand the other aimed his cock at her face. For the first time since her rape began Fiona smiled. "Wha-"Sean's surprise was cut off as someone grabbed him from behind in a sleeper hold. With Fiona's help it was only a second before he found he was face down the toilet holding his breath. He knew he was only prolonging the inevitable but his survival instinct kept him thrashing against his attackers. He couldn't even be sure it was just two people it seemed like more hands than that but in his panic he might not have been counting well. "You sick fuck. Always writing stories about forcing girls. That's not even enough for you. You have to choke them, spit on them and piss down their throats." The man might as well have been speaking to himself. Sean couldn't hear him over the bubbles and splashing as he tried desperately to get some air into his burning lungs. "I know that you really do like this and this isn't your first time. But guess what? That's not why you're dead. You're dead because three years ago you entered the Survivor Contest on Christmas Eve and bumped me out of tenth place and this year you're solidly cruising to third. Or rather you would." Sean stopped thrashing halfway through the monologue. The man held him under for a few more moments then walked Fiona. "Remember stick to the story. He was a rapist and you overpowered him." "You know you could have waited a few more minutes." Fiona whined. The truth was she'd been getting off as much as Sean. Literoticum Survivor Murders Ch. 06 Hastings sat at his desk contemplating his next victim. He had already taken care of the major competition. "Let's see," He thought. Who shall I do next?" Then his eye caught a name on the list. Angelscuck. He was not one of the top five, in fact he was a relative newcomer but he had been rising fast on the list. "Sometimes these newbies get lucky," Hastings mused. "This writer could be a dark horse and surprise all of us! He could be sandbagging us and have a lot of stories in reserve. Besides, he is such a wimpy little cuckold sissy, it would be fun to kill him just for the fun of it. Put an end to that incessant whining, he always does in his stories. Yes, Angelscuck, you are next!" Hastings contemplated the best way to do-in the little bitch. Then he remembered one of his stories where his wife Angel had left instructions for him to handcuff and gag himself and wait for further instructions, on a cruise ship, and the little pussy did it. "Perfect," he thought. This is going to be easy. First he emailed Angelscuck, posing as an official from Literoticum, requesting needed information, such as his name, address and telephone number, to verify his eligibility for the contest. Angelscuck, being new to the site, quickly provided the information as to not be disqualified. Hastings next composed a note to the author from his beloved Angel. It read. "Darling, it's time for more fun and games, please, meet me at the Seahorse Hotel, Room #7 at noon today. You will find instructions in the room. Obey them to the letter. Love, Your Angel." Hastings then called the telephone number that Angelscuck had provided. "Hello," Angelscuck answered. Hastings answered, "Yes, may I please speak to Angel?" "I'm sorry," Angelscuck replied, "She's at work until late this evening, can I take a message?" "No thank you, I will call back later," Hastings replied. "Perfect" he thought. "This is too easy!" He then drove to Angelscuck's apartment, left the phony note from Angel on the front door welcome mat, rang the bell and quickly left. Angelscuck answered the door and finding no one there; glanced down to see if a UPS package was left. He then saw the note. After reading it, he realized he didn't have much time. After showering and getting dressed, he made a couple of quick calls and headed for the Seahorse Hotel. In the meantime, Hastings had gone to the pre-rented room, and checked to make sure he had left the instructions and the items for Angelscuck on the dresser and hid in the closet just before the arranged meeting time. Angelscuck arrived at the room a few minutes after twelve and read the instructions on the dresser from his wife. "Darling, please trust me. Undress, take the four pairs of handcuffs and a ball gag on the dresser and gag yourself, then handcuff yourself to the chair like you did on the cruise." Angelscuck quickly complied and sat waiting naked, gagged and helpless in the chair. Hastings then opened the closet door and entered the room. "You stupid schmuck!" Hastings said. "I can't believe anyone could be so gullible as to put themselves into your situation. This is too easy. Surprised?" "Expecting your sweet Angel to come in with a lover and put on a show for you?" Hastings taunted, "You sissyassed idiot. Perhaps I should explain. My name is Hastings. I have been eliminating the competition on the Literoticum Survivor Contest for several weeks. Although you really aren't much competition, I didn't want to take a chance with you lucking out and winning so I decided to kill you just in case. Besides, I'm so sick of your faggy little ass, constantly whining in your stories!" Hastings continued mockingly, "Oh please Angel, don't fuck that guy", or "Ok, I'll suck his cum out of you just this last time." You make me sick. I'll do you a favor and put you out of your misery. In a minute I am going to pinch your nose. This will cut off your oxygen due to the ball gag and you will die. I have printed up several of your stories and will leave them in the room. The police will write you off as another sicko, perverted victim who played with the wrong person." Angelscuck's eyes widened as he listened to Hastings. He knew this guy could kill him and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Hastings pinched Angelscuck's nose, through his rubber gloves. Angelscuck sucked on the ball gag but his airway was blocked. He felt the blood rush to his head and just as he started to pass out, he heard a loud crash as the hotel door sprung open. It was his brother Kent; an ex-homicide detective turned private investigator. Kent pulled Hastings hand from his brother's nose, twisted his arm behind his back and handcuffed the confused Hastings and pushed him down on the floor. He then went to help his bound brother. "You ok little bro?" Kent asked, undoing the gag. "Yeah, but I was afraid you wouldn't get here in time!" Angelscuck replied between huffing and puffing for air. Kent undid his brother's handcuffs. Angelscuck rubbed his wrists and ankles, and finished dressing. "Check out the pocket tape recorder to make sure you got his confession." Kent told his brother. Angelscuck went over to the dresser and hit the rewind button on the small tape recorder which was hidden underneath his jacket. He then hit play. "My name is Hastings. I have been eliminating the competition the Literoticum Survivor Contest for several weeks..." Echoed from the tape recorder. "We got it!" Replied Angelscuck. Angelscuck then went over to the confused Hastings lying on the floor and said, "I'll bet you are wondering just how we got you, aren't you Hastings?" Angelscuck continued, "Well it seems the police department have be conducting their own investigation and when Literoticum called them and stated that four of the victims were on their Survivor Contest list, the police decided that this was too much of a coincidence and made calls to the other contestants asking them to report any suspicious emails or phone calls from Literoticum to them. When I got your call and then the note from Angel, I called my brother to meet me here." "Well, bro", Kent said, "guess we had better call the police so they can come and pick this monkey up." Hastings looked up at the two brothers and said, "I am the best writer, I really am. You've got to believe me, I did it to get rid of the crap and bring some real quality writing to the Literoticum Website!" "Tell it to the Judge." Angelscuck replied.