****** The Ultimate Salvation by Eurydice ******
===============================================================================

The Ultimate Salvation


He flicked the switch on his watch, so that it's green face illuminated the
time as nine-fifty four. He traced his tongue over his lips - Merel would be
home about 20 minutes from now. God, how he had waited for this. . . .since the
day she had come into his life - his angel, his complete salvation, he had
become obsessed with her since the first word she had said to him. He had met
Merel online a little over a year ago. They had talked online for hours at a
time, exchanged pictures, had even talked on the phone a few times. He knew
this was the one he wanted.

He sighed and pressed his eyelids shut, the image of her face almost instantly
conjuring itself in his head, just as it had been ever since that first picture
she had sent. It had been a picture of her with her ex-boyfriend, Derry. She
was tall, a good five-eleven, at least - and slender, with shoulder length
black hair, and eyes that looked like they could bore holes into anyone. She
had skin almost as white and creamy-looking as milk - how he longed to see if
it tasted as good as it looked. She was so perfect. . . .the bitch had haunted
him in his dreams for the last year, coming to him like an angel out of hell. .
. .he often imagined her with wings - soft black feathers enveloping his own
stark nude flesh. . . .calling him - she was in such desperate need of him, and
didn't even realize it.

He reached over into the passenger seat and grasped the white rose he had
brought for her. He ran his fingers over the petals, stroking them softly. He
knew her bare skin would feel twice as beautiful. . . .only Merel's petals
would be dipped in crimson.

He tucked the rose into the lining of his jacket, and pushed open the door of
his car. He looked toward the back door of the house. He had driven the
torturous fifteen hundred miles to this house - all for her. Yes, it would be
tonight. She would be his, and they would be one. . . .just as he knew they
were to be.

He pulled himself to his feet, and slammed the door of the car behind him. He
had parked in the back yard of the house, so she wouldn't notice his black El
Camino. He knew he probably wouldn't need it after tonight, anyway.

He walked towards the back door, the leaves crunching beneath the boots that
seemed to perfectly compliment his six-foot-two, two hundred pound frame. He
ran a hand over his short blond ponytail, massaging the back of his neck. It
was going to be a long night, he thought, as he slung his duffel bag over his
right shoulder.

Four steps up the back deck, and he tried the door. Not even locked. He guessed
that this must be one of the benefits of living out in the middle of nowhere -
such solitude. Perfect. He couldn't believe his luck. . . . maybe she had been
expecting him. She was no longer a want - she never had been. She was a need.

He flicked the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips over the edge of
the deck. He knew she didn't smoke - and he didn't want her to have any
indication he was here. . . .waiting.

He took one last breath of the cold, brisk night air, and edged his way into
the door.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the house. He realized he was in
the kitchen.
Perfect. Pristine. Just like his angel. Not a thing out of place. . . . he
could imagine her body the same way - she had told him that she shaved. He felt
himself beginning to grow hard just thinking of her.

He stepped into a hallway, and passed a bathroom, a living room, a bedroom - he
only had to poke his head into the room for a second to realize it wasn't hers.
It was plain and dull-looking. Not his Merel - not at all. He came to the foot
of a staircase, his excitement beginning to build as he realized how close he
really was. He took the stairs slowly - one at a time, thinking of what he was
going to do to her with every step. He was going to become her other half -
just as it was meant to be.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, and came face to face with another
bathroom. He passed it, coming to another door. He opened it; the room was lit
by the glow of a computer screen. It was a small room, adorned only by a huge
black Japanese - looking fan on the wall, and a small fish tank in the corner
with a big Oscar swimming in circles, the tank gurgling nonstop. He walked to
the tank, and yanked the tube out, tossing it onto the floor. God, how he
despised annoying noises like that. With another thought, he tucked the tube
back into the tank, reminding himself that he wanted her to see nothing that
would make her think someone else had invaded her space. He ran a hand over the
computer screen - this is where he had met her. His beautiful, beautiful
salvation.

He walked back out into the hallway, and went down to the next door. He stuck
his head in - this was it. This was her haven. This was really happening. It
wasn't a dream this time - he felt himself getting even harder.

He looked around at the unmade bed, band posters on the wall, a pile of dirty
laundry littering the bed. He lowered himself onto the bed, dropping his bag
beside him. He reached down with one hand and dug through the pile, until he
came to a pair of silky feeling panties. Nothing fancy, but they smelled of
her. . . . he ran them over his face, inhaling the sweet scent of her crotch.
Smelling slightly of piss, mixed with perfume. He leaned back against the
headboard, closed his eyelids again, and breathed deeply. . . . .

The roads had been slick with rain for almost a week now - Merel groaned as the
front of her car skidded in another puddle - the water ballooning up on both
sides of the car. She was beginning to wonder if her new job, which was a 40
minute drive, was really worth it - but then again, was anything really worth
it anymore?

She sighed to herself as she pulled the car into the beginning of her long
driveway, stopping to pull the mail from her box. She scanned the various bills
and junk catalogues, and not seeing anything of any real worth, she tossed the
assortment into the back seat.

Proceeding down the rest of the driveway and through the clearing of trees, she
pulled the car into the spot she always parked in, and yanked the key from the
ignition. She leaned her head back against the cushion of her seat and squeezed
her eyelids shut, as if that would banish all that was wrong in her life. If
only she could be so lucky. . . .

She leaned back a bit more in the seat, and began to wonder - as she had
frequently these past few months where it had really all started to go
downhill. This time last year, she would have come home, and been able to look
forward to Derry's arms enveloping her the moment she stepped in the door. Now
there was no one. Nothing to look forward to anymore. What a rut - stuck in a
dead-end job, with dead-end bills, and dead-end lovers. . . .right smack in the
middle of a dead-end life. Ugh. God, she was in such a fucking rut, and it
seemed the more she tried to get out of it, the deeper and deeper it got.

Merel threw open the car door, and forced herself to her feet, grabbing her
purse and a few notebooks from the passenger seat. She slammed the car door,
and began trudging up the walk-way, surprising herself that she even had the
energy to get up the stairs -her legs felt like lead.

She turned her key in the lock, and nudged the door open. Stepping into the
front hall, she dropped all of her things to the floor, not really caring where
they landed. Not even bothering to wash her makeup off, she began making her
way up the staircase.

Hearing the door slam, Layne shook himself out of his dozing and sat up
immediately. She was here! He tilted his head to one side, and heard footsteps
climbing slowly up the stairs. He tossed the panties he had been holding back
into the drawer and quietly eased it shut. Scanning the room, he searched for a
place he could conceal himself until it was time. Seeing the big walk in closet
as his only option, he hoisted himself up off the bed and pulled open one of
the large slatted doors as quickly and quietly as he could. Not a second after
he had closed the door behind him, he saw the other door fly open and the
overhead light come on.

He almost gasped audibly, but sucked in his breath before he had the chance.
God. The bitch was more beautiful than in her pictures! She seemed taller, her
facial structure more delicate, her cheekbones even higher - he was overwhelmed
with the urge to suck one of those fragile looking bones. The black hair, which
shone like patent leather, had grown since the last picture she had sent, and
it cascaded over her shoulders now, setting off the paleness of her skin even
more, and making the facial bones more prominent. She appeared to be exhausted,
but not even the weariness on her face deducted from her beauty. Her eye makeup
was noticeably smudged -who had dared to make his angel cry? Her tears should
only be shed for him - he would have to make her see that. He knew he had made
the right decision in coming here. She would be his.

As he watched through a slat, she tugged her sweater off over her head, and
letting it fall to the floor. Then she reached behind her, and unhooked her bra
- uncapping these beautiful, luscious breasts tipped by large, soft pink
nipples - they looked unbelievably suckable. She undid her belt, and let her
skirt fall to the floor, revealing her baby blue panties. He prayed she would
take those off too - but she didn't. She reached down to open a drawer, and as
she bent, her taut ass went up into the air, and the light blue panties tucked
themselves into her cunt, showcasing the beautiful crevice of her crotch. God,
how he had lain awake in bed for the last few months, dreaming of the day, he
would suck upon those lips, and run his tongue along their slit - delving his
tongue deeply into her sweetness.

Slamming the drawer shut, she stood back up, and pulled the t-shirt on over her
head. She moved to the side of the bed, and laid on her stomach - pulling the
unmade sheets over her. She reached up with one hand to flick off the light,
but her hand hesitated for a moment, and her eyes darted around the room. He
held his breath, almost sure he had been caught - but then she yawned, flipped
the switch, and plunged her head onto the pillow.

Blanketed in the darkness now, and never taking his eyes off her, Layne
wondered how much longer he should wait. He had planned on waiting until she
was asleep to come out, but he was no longer sure he could hold out for that
long. His adrenaline was pumping, and he could hardly contain himself.

He looked back out at her - so, so beautiful. He had to do it now. He unlaced
his boots and stepped out of them as quietly as he could. Reaching into the
lining of his jacket, he pulled out the rose and a small piece of cloth. He
gently shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and sat it on the floor. He
hesitated for a minute, wondering if he should really do it now. To hell with
it - he had come this far, he was going to go the rest of the distance. In one
swift motion, he threw open the closet door and pounced upon Merel's back,
before she even had a chance to look up.

"What the fuck?" an anguished cry from Merel, as she struggled against the
sudden weight that had landed on top of her. Laying his rose on the nightstand,
he pushed her head down into the mattress with one hand, and shoved the small
piece of cloth under her nose with the other. She got a whiff of chloroform and
within seconds, the struggle was over, and her body laid still.

This was the most precious time of all, and Layne knew he had to move fast. He
grabbed his black bag from the closet, and withdrew four thin pieces of rope.
He grasped her foot, and snake-knotted it to the bed post. In under a minute,
he had secured the other foot, both hands, and had shoved a gag in the bitch's
mouth.

He stood by the bedside now, and began stripping off all his clothes. Once he
was done, he positioned himself on her back, his knees at her waist. What a
fucking euphoria - he felt better than he could remember in years.

Merel began coming to, and began thrashing beneath him, not able to let out
anything more than a muffled scream. He pushed up the back of her shirt, and
caressed her skin. Fuck - it was the softest damned thing Layne could ever
imagine feeling.

"You sweet little bitch, how I've dreamed of tasting you," he leaned down and
let the words breathe themselves into her ear. He traced his tongue slowly up
her jawbone. . . . over the side of her face, and bit softly into her
cheekbone. "My God, you taste like fucking heaven."

He saw a tear roll out of one of her eyes. He leaned down again, licked it
away, and laughed softly in the silence of the room. "Beautiful....cry for me,
angel. I'll take away your tears, and redeem you."

He reached into his bag, and pulled out a hunting knife. He drew his blade up
her back and traced over her shoulder blade with it. He saw her eyes widening
in terror....the last thing those eyes would ever see would be his own blue
ones - almost a sapphire colour - they could almost qualify as black.

He knew she would recognize him if she saw his eyes - the bitch had even told
him she'd had dreams of him, where she could only see his eyes and hear his
voice. He had to make her dream a reality.

He bent down over her, and put his face on the pillow next to hers. He looked
deeply into those terrified eyes. Suddenly a shocked look washed over her
features, and he knew that she knew it was him.

He smiled at her and licked the tip of her nose. "Yes, angel. . . . it's me.
Layne. I know how much you love me, dear. And I know how you dream of me. Well,
I'm here to fulfill your dreams. . . .and be your nightmare."

He sat back up on her, and edged the blade of his knife under her shirt. He
pulled it up through the material, and cut the shirt off. He reached under her,
and squeezing one of her breasts hard, he pulled what was left of the shirt
off, and threw it to the floor.

She tried to scream out again. "It's useless, angel. Don't worry. I'm just
going to take care of you. I want you to know how much I love you."

He pushed her hair up over her head, and softly massaged the back of her neck.
Her neck felt slender and small, and graceful. And so soft, just like every
other inch of her body.

He was so fucking hard. He laid the knife at her side, and still massaging her
neck, he began stroking himself, tracing his cock up and down the long, smooth
indentation of her back, and pre-cumming in the small hollow of her back.

"Now I'm going to see if my little slut tastes as good as she looks." He
stopped massaging her neck, and grabbed the knife. He traced it over the back
of her neck, and just as he began cumming all over her back, he sliced away a
small piece of flesh as she screamed.

He held the small swatch of skin in his hand, and stared at it for a moment,
before popping it into his mouth and beginning to chew. Soft, sweet, with the
metallic taste of blood, kind of chewy. He swallowed, and leaned forward again,
and began sucking at the blood that was flowing slowly out of the wound on her
neck.

"You are my perfection," he whispered into her ear. "And I'm going to make you
see that." He rubbed his spill off her back with the sheet, and got off her.

He grabbed the rose from the nightstand, and bent down to caress her face with
it. "You beautiful, wretched thing....I brought this just for you." He began
pulling the petals off and scattering them over the bed. He slapped at the nude
flesh of her back with the thorned stem.

"Do you like this angel?" She shook her head vigorously from side to side.

"Do you want me to let you go?" She nodded yes.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't." He tossed the stem to the floor. "But I do have
something a lot better."

He slid himself down on her body, and put his face to her cunt. He pushed his
face into her hard, inhaling deeply, once again smelling the scent of perfume,
cunt, and piss. He grabbed his knife, and slit the sides of her panties,
reaching under her, and ripping them off. He put them to his face for a second,
and sucked on the crotch.

The panties tasted of stale cum. He was enraged. "Fucking bitch. How dare you
cum yourself thinking of someone else! Ungrateful fucking slut! You are MINE!"
He rammed the knife up the side of her leg, and sliced away a sliver of her
inner thigh. He sucked it and swallowed it. "You're going to be fucking
punished for that, you bitch. . . . .later. I have other things to do now."

He sucked on one of the lips of her cunt. "So smooth. Angelic." With two
fingers, he spread her lips, and sought out her clit with his tongue. He licked
it hard, and sucked it, and felt her tremble. He delved his tongue deep inside
of her - she felt as beautiful on the inside as she looked on the outside.

She started to grow wet, and he could have swore he heard her moan. He pulled
his face away from her crotch. "How does that feel, angel? Being tongue-fucked
by your maker? Don't you fucking love it?"

She shook her head no.

He slapped her cunt hard. "Fucking whore. I should have known better than to
try to please a slut like you. I love you... lots. But you just don't get it,
do you?," Layne screamed. With that, he balled his entire right hand into a
fist, and began trying to shove it into her cunt.

She screamed. "Shut up, you stupid fucking slut - no one's going to hear you
anyway." He pushed harder, making the tightness of the walls of her cunt begin
to give in. He grabbed his knife, and made an swift, ragged incision at the
bottom where her lips came together. He slammed his fist harder, and with a
gush of blood - his whole fist went into her.

He pulled his hand out, and rammed it in a few more times, before withdrawing
it completely, and smearing the blood from his hand all over her taut little
ass. "You know, you scream a lot more that I thought you would. I thought you
were stronger than this. But it doesn't matter anymore. I know I'm going to die
with you."

He threw himself back on top of her, and closed his eyes. He fell into a sleep.

The first streams of light were beginning to peak into the window when Layne
raised his head. The sleep hadn't done much for him, and he still felt his
exhaustion from the night before. He looked at the girl beneath him.

She was nothing like what she had been before he had gotten to her last night.
Her eyes no longer exuded that strong glint of willpower, and her whole body
seemed to slump. He had broken her. Someone who he had assumed as strong as
himself - or stronger - and he had broken her.

He gently stroked the side of her face, licked at the cheekbone. She still
didn't wake. He bit into the bone - hard. Her eyes flew open instantly with a
sleepy sort of gaze in them. It took her a moment to realize where she was,
then her eyes flooded with the same terror they'd had in them last night. "Good
morning, lovely. . . . .are you ready to become my salvation?"

Her eyes seemed to almost drain of their life force, and their will to live.
She knew she was going to die. He kissed her cheek. "I know, I know, but it
will all be done with soon." She winced slightly. "But first, before I can take
you with me, you have to redeem yourself."

Layne stroked her hair. "You see, I'm going to purify you. I'm going to make
you clean - for me."

He stood up from the bed, and grabbed his back. He pulled a hammer from it.
Without warning, he brought the head of it down into the small of her back. She
screamed.

"I need you."

He brought the hammer down into one of her shoulders.

"I obsess over you."

Another blow to her knee.

"I knew I would I have you."

The other knee.

"I knew I would make you mine."

The back of her head. . . . the hammer burying it's tip there with a sickening
"chunk", as her skull caved in. He left the hammer there, and moved away.

"I love you."

He cut off all the ropes and flipped her over. He removed the gag from her
mouth, and took in her beauty. He had never felt so at peace, so whole, or so
complete.

He pulled her into his arms. "Always, my angel.....always."

SysterOfPayn@yahoo.com

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