Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
Kassyghost
Star
- Joined
- Oct 24, 2016
- Location
- Six feet under the dirt
"What can I get for you Hun?" Camilla Watson-Black asked the patron as he approached the bar. He as a tall, muscular guy dressed like most of the douchebags that walked into places like this. He was dressed in a sequined adorned, overly tight Affliction brand t-shirt, with heavily product filled hair,spiked toward the ceiling.Stupid looking generic tattoos covering his arms, ones that he probably believes are meaningful and individualistic, but were actually just images he found on the internet. Even his jeans were also decorated in the flare with studs on the back pockets which had to be uncomfortable to sit on. And this is the exact type of man she both loathed and lusted after at the same time.
"Hey there Sexy, I'll take two Jagerbombs, one for me and one for you." He said with his manufactured smile he'd probably actually practiced in a mirror at home.
"Sorry I can't drink while I'm on the clock, But I get off in an hour, you wanna go out for an after hours drink, Maybe your place?" She asked, throwing on her own fake smile, hers though was that of a wolf.
_________________________________________________________________________
It had been this way for her since college. It was then that her world truly changed and more than just the normal self awareness you were turned on to for the first time on your own in that academic environment. She'd been raped, not terribly shocking when you consider the culture of today, but for her it was world shattering event, a watershed moment. She was exposed to the shame society expected her to feel as well as forced to feel the alienation from not actually feeling it.
Afterall where were the support groups for young woman who didn't feel victimized by the act? What if a woman happened to enjoy that sense of extreme form of domination that only a rapist man could give you? These were the questions she learned quickly not to ask aloud, others didn't seem to agree and many had violent reactions to the subject matter. She took time volunteering on the Rape Crisis Hotline under false pretenses, instead listening with the intention to help, she used the experiences to draw from, for her own personal interest in the subject.
She had decided by the time she was a sophomore in college and flunking out of most her classes that she was ready to try that specific sensation again. He was a Jock, notable football player, on his way to a lucrative NFL contract until he ran into her for the first time. It was at an out of town Halloween party that they were both attending and she'd instantly recognized him. His name was Clay Mathews and although he was a senior she had partied with him a few times in the past. She knew he already had a reputation for taking advantage of underclassmen girls when they were drunk at his fraternity's house of ill repute. Of course being a star running-back had its privileges and Clay's 'momentary lapses of judgment' were always covered up by the college's sports committee in order to maintain their gleaming public image.
A perfect subject for her little experiment, if she'd ever seen one. In costume, and out of town surrounded by strangers would lend to his M.O. She used the night to seduce him, only pantomiming drinking alcohol instead of actually getting drunk, while he managed to finish an entire bottle of booze. Her next step was to manufacture a fight, flirting with Clay, but at the same time leading some of the less than civilized Yocals on just enough to make them think they had a shot. Once one of the drunken hillbillies got drunk enough they'd make their move and then Clay could exert his male dominance over them. The dustup was impressive with Clay mopping the floor with the unsuspecting guy.
Next she chose to get him alone, easy enough, the guy had a hot girlfriend back at the campus and he wouldn't want her finding out. Once they rented a motel, under his name, not hers things began to flow more easily. She got him in the room and began the tease him, giving him just enough to want more. Then just as he thought he was getting his dick wet, she'd suddenly change her mind.
This drove men crazy and was the very reason she'd been raped in the first place. One minute she wanted it, and the next she'd come to her senses and decided against it. The shit only worked until a certain point in a man's erotic escalation, after a certain line is crossed, there isn't any going back, and poof just like that your ass is getting raped.
Clay was no exception, once she'd manufactured the argument, he was furious. She told him she'd wanted to leave and he went caveman on her ass. Picked her up with one hand and tossed her onto the bed, pounced on her like a fucking jungle cat and had his way. Her clothes were shredded, her eye was swollen from him cuffing her and her lip was bloodied from a punch. She was careful to only protest enough to keep his aggression up, she made sure not to scratch him or bite hard enough to leave an impression, it was all for show.
Finally after several long minutes he managed to cum and the beating relented, collapsing on the bed next to her, with a big happy satisfied smile on his face. If he'd been more of a considerate lover, he might have notice that she'd hadn't even came herself. "See, I told you, you'd like it!" Is what he had said as he laid there panting next to her.
"You're right stud! I had you pegged all wrong, you really know what a girl wants!" She said with a sarcastic laugh, wiping the drying blood from her swollen lip. "You want a cigarette?" She asked as she rolled over and grabbed her purse from the floor where she'd discarded it.
"Hell no, those things will kill you, I thought you said you knew I was an Athlete?" Clay was saying as Camilla rolled back onto the bed, and in one smooth motion her hand coming down and burying the small penknife into his throat.
He giggled at first, if you can believe it, actually giggled. He must have been cum-drunk though, his brain too filled with dopamine to realize he'd just been shanked. His hand reached up and he tried to say, "Stop tickling me" but because his esophagus was pinned shut with the blade it came out as a bloody gurgle. It was then, she thinks that he finally realized how dire his circumstances actually were, because his big strong hand came up and seized her wrist.
Next came her knee, she rolled over and plunged it first into his deflating groin and the next was a slamming blow to his outstretched diagram located mid-torso. Goddamn if those self defense classes her father paid for after the shame of her rape didn't come in handy. Clay outweighed her by atleast 120 lbs, and was built like a workhorse, but after those two blows he was as gentle as a baby. The knife came out and plunged back in, this time she found the artery.
When the next retraction of the blade happened Carmilla got what she wanted, she got an orgasm of blood. His punctured artery let lose a fountain with enough back pressure to send it spraying onto the ceiling. Something in her made her react the way she did, and she placed her face in front of the geyser of and took a money shot of his life blood. Her mouth held open, the warm red salty brine sprayed her face and covered her while she rubbed her clit and orgasmed harder than she ever had before. When it was done and he’d finally stopped flopping and convulsing, she collapsed onto the bed next to him, huffing in pleasure, much as he had just minutes before.
Thank god police’s genetic evidence collection hadn’t reached the level it was now a days or she would have been caught for sure.Now of course she was far more careful with her nocturnal activities. When she returned to campus, she immediately changed her major from child psychology to criminal psychology and immediately her grades improved, afterall it was very engaging for her. Unfortunately she needed funding for the additional years of education, which led her to bartending at a local club. She found the environment extremely productive for her studies.
She graduated, but not with any sort of good grades, but by then she wasn’t in it for the degree, she was more annexing the classes for information only. She didn’t even bother hanging up her diploma, she simply packed it away. You would think that someone with a college degree would seek out gainful employment in that field, but Carmillia shunned it and kept her job bartending at the club. She dated countless men over the next year or two and even managed to kill a few, but carefully and with purpose. The police were never the wiser until she’d caught an unlucky break. One of the victim’s last known location was the club she worked at and all the employees were questioned by a pair of homicide detectives assigned to the ‘Midnight Mistress’ serial killer cases. It was a nickname local media had dubbed her and she adored it.
The real surprise was that once the Detectives were finished questioning her, he’d actually asked her out. His name was Julian Black and although he was a little older than Carmilla, she thought he was absolutely smoking hot. The date turned into dating and before she knew it they were engaged to be married, and soon after that wedding bells.
Married life had been good, Carmilla assumed she was done with her nocturnal activities, but as the years passed she found she still desired the violent outbursts rape provided. She’d hinted to Julian that she wouldn’t mind him roughing her up a little during sex, but he seemed uninterested, stating that he’d seen enough violence during his police career to last a lifetime. It didn’t take long for Carmilla to start hunting again and tonight she’d found her first potential victim since she’d married Julian.
______________________________________________________________________________
She walked outside the bar and saw the Jersey shore wannabe and smiled happily. “Hey I thought you ditched me hansome…”
“No way, So you said you wanted to go back to my place, come on it’s right around the corner.” The foolish man stated and grabbed her by her ass.
“Oooh yeah big boy, you like to play rough?” She giggled.
____________________________________________________________________
Carmilla finished showering and stepped out the the dead man’s shower. Her beautiful naked form glistening in the dull yellow bathroom light. She opened the cabinet under his sink and found and ammonia based cleaning product and began her ritual, ,spraying everything down. When she walked into his bedroom, his dead naked body laying on his bed, his head almost completely severed while his dick still rock hard from the fucking she’d delivered him. She sprayed his entire body with the ammonia. “I thought you liked to play rough?” She asked with a giggle.
Carmilla dressed and left his apartment. She returned to her car and left for home. Seeing the clock reading 4:30am and she knew Julian would be waking up soon. Once home she let herself in quietly and began cooking breakfast. Soon her husband would wake and she simply tell him she woke up early to make him breakfast.
"Hey there Sexy, I'll take two Jagerbombs, one for me and one for you." He said with his manufactured smile he'd probably actually practiced in a mirror at home.
"Sorry I can't drink while I'm on the clock, But I get off in an hour, you wanna go out for an after hours drink, Maybe your place?" She asked, throwing on her own fake smile, hers though was that of a wolf.
_________________________________________________________________________
It had been this way for her since college. It was then that her world truly changed and more than just the normal self awareness you were turned on to for the first time on your own in that academic environment. She'd been raped, not terribly shocking when you consider the culture of today, but for her it was world shattering event, a watershed moment. She was exposed to the shame society expected her to feel as well as forced to feel the alienation from not actually feeling it.
Afterall where were the support groups for young woman who didn't feel victimized by the act? What if a woman happened to enjoy that sense of extreme form of domination that only a rapist man could give you? These were the questions she learned quickly not to ask aloud, others didn't seem to agree and many had violent reactions to the subject matter. She took time volunteering on the Rape Crisis Hotline under false pretenses, instead listening with the intention to help, she used the experiences to draw from, for her own personal interest in the subject.
She had decided by the time she was a sophomore in college and flunking out of most her classes that she was ready to try that specific sensation again. He was a Jock, notable football player, on his way to a lucrative NFL contract until he ran into her for the first time. It was at an out of town Halloween party that they were both attending and she'd instantly recognized him. His name was Clay Mathews and although he was a senior she had partied with him a few times in the past. She knew he already had a reputation for taking advantage of underclassmen girls when they were drunk at his fraternity's house of ill repute. Of course being a star running-back had its privileges and Clay's 'momentary lapses of judgment' were always covered up by the college's sports committee in order to maintain their gleaming public image.
A perfect subject for her little experiment, if she'd ever seen one. In costume, and out of town surrounded by strangers would lend to his M.O. She used the night to seduce him, only pantomiming drinking alcohol instead of actually getting drunk, while he managed to finish an entire bottle of booze. Her next step was to manufacture a fight, flirting with Clay, but at the same time leading some of the less than civilized Yocals on just enough to make them think they had a shot. Once one of the drunken hillbillies got drunk enough they'd make their move and then Clay could exert his male dominance over them. The dustup was impressive with Clay mopping the floor with the unsuspecting guy.
Next she chose to get him alone, easy enough, the guy had a hot girlfriend back at the campus and he wouldn't want her finding out. Once they rented a motel, under his name, not hers things began to flow more easily. She got him in the room and began the tease him, giving him just enough to want more. Then just as he thought he was getting his dick wet, she'd suddenly change her mind.
This drove men crazy and was the very reason she'd been raped in the first place. One minute she wanted it, and the next she'd come to her senses and decided against it. The shit only worked until a certain point in a man's erotic escalation, after a certain line is crossed, there isn't any going back, and poof just like that your ass is getting raped.
Clay was no exception, once she'd manufactured the argument, he was furious. She told him she'd wanted to leave and he went caveman on her ass. Picked her up with one hand and tossed her onto the bed, pounced on her like a fucking jungle cat and had his way. Her clothes were shredded, her eye was swollen from him cuffing her and her lip was bloodied from a punch. She was careful to only protest enough to keep his aggression up, she made sure not to scratch him or bite hard enough to leave an impression, it was all for show.
Finally after several long minutes he managed to cum and the beating relented, collapsing on the bed next to her, with a big happy satisfied smile on his face. If he'd been more of a considerate lover, he might have notice that she'd hadn't even came herself. "See, I told you, you'd like it!" Is what he had said as he laid there panting next to her.
"You're right stud! I had you pegged all wrong, you really know what a girl wants!" She said with a sarcastic laugh, wiping the drying blood from her swollen lip. "You want a cigarette?" She asked as she rolled over and grabbed her purse from the floor where she'd discarded it.
"Hell no, those things will kill you, I thought you said you knew I was an Athlete?" Clay was saying as Camilla rolled back onto the bed, and in one smooth motion her hand coming down and burying the small penknife into his throat.
He giggled at first, if you can believe it, actually giggled. He must have been cum-drunk though, his brain too filled with dopamine to realize he'd just been shanked. His hand reached up and he tried to say, "Stop tickling me" but because his esophagus was pinned shut with the blade it came out as a bloody gurgle. It was then, she thinks that he finally realized how dire his circumstances actually were, because his big strong hand came up and seized her wrist.
Next came her knee, she rolled over and plunged it first into his deflating groin and the next was a slamming blow to his outstretched diagram located mid-torso. Goddamn if those self defense classes her father paid for after the shame of her rape didn't come in handy. Clay outweighed her by atleast 120 lbs, and was built like a workhorse, but after those two blows he was as gentle as a baby. The knife came out and plunged back in, this time she found the artery.
When the next retraction of the blade happened Carmilla got what she wanted, she got an orgasm of blood. His punctured artery let lose a fountain with enough back pressure to send it spraying onto the ceiling. Something in her made her react the way she did, and she placed her face in front of the geyser of and took a money shot of his life blood. Her mouth held open, the warm red salty brine sprayed her face and covered her while she rubbed her clit and orgasmed harder than she ever had before. When it was done and he’d finally stopped flopping and convulsing, she collapsed onto the bed next to him, huffing in pleasure, much as he had just minutes before.
Thank god police’s genetic evidence collection hadn’t reached the level it was now a days or she would have been caught for sure.Now of course she was far more careful with her nocturnal activities. When she returned to campus, she immediately changed her major from child psychology to criminal psychology and immediately her grades improved, afterall it was very engaging for her. Unfortunately she needed funding for the additional years of education, which led her to bartending at a local club. She found the environment extremely productive for her studies.
She graduated, but not with any sort of good grades, but by then she wasn’t in it for the degree, she was more annexing the classes for information only. She didn’t even bother hanging up her diploma, she simply packed it away. You would think that someone with a college degree would seek out gainful employment in that field, but Carmillia shunned it and kept her job bartending at the club. She dated countless men over the next year or two and even managed to kill a few, but carefully and with purpose. The police were never the wiser until she’d caught an unlucky break. One of the victim’s last known location was the club she worked at and all the employees were questioned by a pair of homicide detectives assigned to the ‘Midnight Mistress’ serial killer cases. It was a nickname local media had dubbed her and she adored it.
The real surprise was that once the Detectives were finished questioning her, he’d actually asked her out. His name was Julian Black and although he was a little older than Carmilla, she thought he was absolutely smoking hot. The date turned into dating and before she knew it they were engaged to be married, and soon after that wedding bells.
Married life had been good, Carmilla assumed she was done with her nocturnal activities, but as the years passed she found she still desired the violent outbursts rape provided. She’d hinted to Julian that she wouldn’t mind him roughing her up a little during sex, but he seemed uninterested, stating that he’d seen enough violence during his police career to last a lifetime. It didn’t take long for Carmilla to start hunting again and tonight she’d found her first potential victim since she’d married Julian.
______________________________________________________________________________
She walked outside the bar and saw the Jersey shore wannabe and smiled happily. “Hey I thought you ditched me hansome…”
“No way, So you said you wanted to go back to my place, come on it’s right around the corner.” The foolish man stated and grabbed her by her ass.
“Oooh yeah big boy, you like to play rough?” She giggled.
____________________________________________________________________
Carmilla finished showering and stepped out the the dead man’s shower. Her beautiful naked form glistening in the dull yellow bathroom light. She opened the cabinet under his sink and found and ammonia based cleaning product and began her ritual, ,spraying everything down. When she walked into his bedroom, his dead naked body laying on his bed, his head almost completely severed while his dick still rock hard from the fucking she’d delivered him. She sprayed his entire body with the ammonia. “I thought you liked to play rough?” She asked with a giggle.
Carmilla dressed and left his apartment. She returned to her car and left for home. Seeing the clock reading 4:30am and she knew Julian would be waking up soon. Once home she let herself in quietly and began cooking breakfast. Soon her husband would wake and she simply tell him she woke up early to make him breakfast.