****** A Thing For Redheads ******
                           Provided By: BDSM_Library
                              www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: One night, pretty and serious college student Megan Riley meets
Fleck, a very sick man with a thing for redheads. Can you guess Megan\'s hair
color? WARNING: Not for the faint of heart, easily offended, or anyone else who
might take this type of story seriously.






      Fleck lived to kill.  He didn't know his age anymore - he'd
stopped keeping track after his twentieth year.  And he couldn't tell
you how long he'd been killing or how many little bitches had met his
wrath.  He spent his days walking across the southwest, stopping only
when he found a prey, and then moving on.  Tall, muscle-bound with face
hidden by a thick beard, Fleck was the dark shadow of evil that
flickered across the nation's imagination.  He wore black jeans, a
black shirt, and black cowboy boots and across his back, he carried a
backpack filled with the instruments of his only passion.  When Fleck
slept, he dreamed the most unspeakable acts and smiled.
        Fleck had a thing for redheads.
        Megan Victoria Riley was twenty-three years old, a graduate
student at Cumberland University.  CU was in the center of a small town
in west Texas - nothing much ever happened there and that suited Megan
just fine.  She was the first person in her family to go to college and
she was also the first female not to be married off by the time she was
seventeen.  She was going to make something out of her life and didn't
need any outside distractions.
        It’s not that she was a wallflower.  Megan Riley was hot and she
knew it.  She'd had a steady stream of boyfriends, all wrapped around
her perfectly manicured finger.  She hadn't been serious about any of
them - in fact, she found most of them to be just a little bit beneath
her.  But, Jesus Christ, they loved her.  Megan stood 5'7 with a good,
taunt body - round and perky 36C breasts with long, slender legs and a
nice, shapely ass.  She had a flat, firm stomach with a kittenish face
crowned by a long mane of naturally red hair.
        That night, she arrived home from school late.  She rented a
small, one bedroom house on the outskirts of town.  Nothing special but
it gave her privacy and let her get her studying done.  As she unlocked
her front door and stepped into her pitch-black living room, Megan
sighed and dropped her books to the floor.  She wondered if her mother
had called yet again, nagging her for not being married and having
children like a good Irish Catholic girl.  She was wearing a gray CU
sweatshirt and tight blue jeans that hugged her hips.  Around her neck,
she wore a gold St. Christopher medal.  Megan wasn't religious but she
still felt safe whenever she wore it.  She knew St. Christopher would
always protect her from whatever troubles life had to offer.
        She turned on the lights and closed the door behind her.  As
she looked over her sparsely furnished living room, she shuddered as a
cold breeze hit her body.  Where the Hell was that coming from?
        Then she saw it.  Over the couch - the window was broken.
        "What the fuck--?" she started.
        WHACK!  Megan flew forward, hitting the floor in a daze as
Fleck smashed his fist into the back of her head.  On the floor, she
desperately rolled over onto her back and gasped at the man standing
above her.
        "Wha-" she started again.
        Without a word, Fleck knelt down and put his hands around her
supple neck.  His grip tight around her neck, he lifted her from the
ground until her feet were desperately and vainly kicking in front of
his face.  He looked up at her and smiled as she started to gag.
Weakly, she placed her hands on his iron-grip.  "please...please..."
she managed to pathetically squeak.
        Fleck started to chuckle a guttural chuckle, wondering if this
little cocktease had any idea how long he'd been watching her, planning
his attack on this little redheaded cunt.
        "please...please..."
        He squeezed tighter until she couldn't make another sound.  Her
kicking slowed as the strength ebbed out of her body and her green eyes
rolled into the back of her head.  Just as her vision started to
blacken, Fleck threw her.  She hit the wall with a low thud and fell
down to the couch, landing sprawled on her back.
        She lay on the couch, gasping as the room spun around her.
Jesus Christ, what was happening?  What was ... Jesus ... she grasped
at her St. Christopher, gripping it in her hand and in her mind, she
started to pray for the strength to get up, to run ... and in all the
fear, she wondered had her mother called?  Would she ever talk...
        Suddenly, her vision snapped into focus and she saw him
standing over her, staring down without remorse.
        "WHO ARE YOU!?" she screamed.
        Fleck stared down at her, silent.
        "Please..." she said as tears started to run down her pretty
face, leaving a path of purple mascara, "please, you can have my
money...please..."
        Suddenly, he was grabbing her sweatshirt, roughly ripping it
off of her body.  As she heard the coarse fabric tearing, Megan
screamed, "PLEASE NO!  OHGODNO!"  Fleck brought the backside of his
hand across her mouth, shutting her up with the force of his blow.  As
she lay there stunned, he pulled the sweatshirt over her head and off
her body, revealing her firm breasts in a pink, lacey Victoria's Secret
bra.
        "oh please..." she gasped, her voice drowned in tears, "please,
don't do this..."
        Ignoring her pleas, Fleck unzipped her jeans and yanked them
down to her ankles, revealing matching pink panties.
        "don't rape me..." Megan said, her hands instinctively going
down to protect her pussy, "please, don't rape me..."
        Fleck hit her hands away.  He ripped her panties off her hips,
causing Megan to scream as the fabric snapped across her flesh.
        "OHGODPLEASEI'LLDOANYTHING!"
        Fleck smiled.  Yeah, he thought, you will, cunt.
        Quickly, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his own nine-inch
erection.  Megan's eyes widened in terror as she saw it.  Pinning her
down, Fleck plunged his cock into her terror-dry pussy and thrust
himself deep into her, ignoring her cries of pain as his huge dick
ripped through her cunt.
        As he started to pump himself into her, Megan closed her eyes
and stopped moving.  Maybe if she just lay back, kept quiet, just let
him do it, maybe it would all be over soon and in the back of her
jumbled brain, she remembered what Dorothy Parker had said about
rape, "just lie back and enjoy it."  God, she was an English grad
student, she taught a class, she was going to be a teacher, how could
this be happening?  She could hear him, grunting like some sort of
animal as he fucked her and she realized she was actually getting wet,
welcoming his invasion as if he was one of her little undergrad boy
toys.  God, this wasn't happening...in her mind, she started to pray.
Hail Mary full of Grace...
        Suddenly, he plunged deep into her, deeper than any man had
ever gone in before and her eyes flew open in shock as she screamed
out.  It felt like he was ripping apart her insides with his cock.  She
felt him explode inside of her, his cum soaking her, running down her
legs, matting her red pubes.  She knew she was being raped, being
violated in the worst way, but her body was welcoming it.  Her cunt was
wet with both of their cum.
        Just as abruptly, he pulled out of her, leaving her grasping
for breath.  As he stood up and put himself back into his jeans, Megan
looked up at him and said, "Please, you've got what you want.  Just
leave and I won't tell anyone..."
        Fleck reached down to his belt and for the first time, Megan
saw it.  A knife with a long, gleaming blade hung against his right
leg.  As he grabbed the hilt of the knife, Megan finally realized the
truth.  She was going to die.
        "OHGODNOOOOOO!" she screamed as he lifted the knife over his
head, "PLEASENOOOOO!!!!"
        Swiftly, he brought the blade down, slicing deep across her
bare stomach.  Megan's body lurched up as it felt like her insides
caught on fire.  As she screamed, she could see the dark red blood
squirting out from her flesh, decorating the walls.  Her hands over her
mutilated belly, Megan rolled off of the couch and as her gored stomach
hit the floor, she let out another agonized yelp.  She tried to stand
as the blood ran down her legs but her jeans, wrapped around her
ankles, tripped her and she fell back down to the floor.  Weakly
dragging herself, she started to inch her body towards the door,
knowing that she had to make it, she had to escape-
        Suddenly, she felt Fleck grabbing her shoulders and turning her
onto her back.  She looked up and saw him kneel down beside her, a
smile across his face, the bloody knife still in his iron grip.
        "oh please..."  In her mind, she knew she couldn't die.  Her
mother had probably called, she had classes to study for, she was going
to graduate, she was going to make something out of her life, this
couldn't be happening.  She could feel her medal, cold again her bare,
heaving chest and she knew St. Christopher wouldn't let this happen ...
it couldn't....
        As if he could read her mind, Fleck finally spoke.  "This is
real, cunt."
        She saw the blade flash above her as it tore down into her
pussy, ripping through her cunt and she screamed shrilly as her sex
exploded into a geyser of blood.  Weakly, she tried to reach down, to
protect her mutilated pussy as Fleck brought the knife down again and
again, the blade ripping through her hands and down into her vagina.
Her blood sprayed across the room and spread across the floor like a
raging river.
        Above her, the room started to spin and Megan realized she was
about to black out.  But she couldn't - if she lost consciousness, she
knew she'd never wake up.  She couldn't die, she couldn't...
        Fleck ripped the blade across her chest, cutting through the
cups of her bra and slicing open the tits underneath.  She barely felt
the pain.  She wanted to scream, wanted to beg, wanted to fight, but
she couldn't....
        God, she thought, I'm going to die.
        She felt the cold blade against her throat.
        This is it, she thought, its over.  Jesus, she wished she
called her mom.  Just to say goodbye, just to talk to her one last
time...
        Coolly, Fleck slashed the blade across her throat.  Megan felt
the blood fill her windpipe as the room went black.  As she coughed up
a few last drops of blood, her eyes rolled up into her head and glazed
over.  She weakly reached upward before coughing one last time.  Her
hands fell limply to her side, she drew one last strangled breath, and
then died.
        Fleck stared down at her gory body, at her bloody open mouth
and her clear eyes staring into nothing.  Her flesh was stained with
red and her hair and clothes were matted with blood.  He stared down at
the ravaged remains of her sex.  He pulled out his cock, fucked her
corpse one last time, and then left the house, closing the door behind
him.
        Nobody found Megan Victoria Riley until the next day when her
friend Janice (plump, face still acne stricken) came by to ask for a
ride to school.  Janice found Megan's sprawled body on the living room
floor, her jeans still around her ankles and her sex a red mass of
blood and pubes.  Her skin was now a sickly pale white except for the
dark black slash across her neck.  Megan's eyes stared into emptiness,
still showing the terror of her final moments and the blood still
around her open mouth had yet to dry.  Her chest was an explosion of
crimson with her St. Christopher medal dully and vainly glowing between
the bloody cups of her bra.
        Janice fainted.
        Fleck was already in another town, searching for another girl.
 
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