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Tricia and I invited our two sadistic young friends up for a visit. We’re going to enjoy a long three day weekend when Kim and Lauren get here from Texas. The girls just snuffed their first boy. Apparently the two wicked young nurses did some fun stuff with drain cleaner when they tortured their prey to death. Trish and I can’t wait to hear all the thrilling details. But it’s not like us older girls don’t have some tricks up our sleeves as well.
So my cruel lover Trish thought the girls might like to read some of my old journals I kept as a teen. I started them way back when I was fourteen. Mom had suggested I keep a record of the wonderfully wicked things I did to boys. So I did. I called it “Amanda’s Journal: Playing for Keeps with Boys”. Of course I hurt so many boys back then. I really liked hurting boys. I still do. I played rough with so many different guys it was just too much information to keep track of all of it. So mostly I just wrote about the boys Trish and Mom and I snuffed.
That means my journal started with my Dad’s snuff when I was fourteen. It’s been almost twenty years since Trish and I snuffed our Daddies together. Tricia thinks Kim and Lauren will get a kick out of how we did things way back then. Believe it or not we still have our sadistic fun with men in pretty much the same way now that we did all those years ago. I know because I’ve been re-reading these old notes from when I was a teenager. Remembering the thrill of some of those snuffs still gives me goose bumps.
Trish and I had so much fun back then. I think most girls would say nothing quite equals their first real snuff. I was lucky. I got to do my step Daddy. Mom had been married to him for almost four years so I knew him pretty well. Which made torturing him and killing him real slow soooo much more intimate and exciting and personal. That’s the best snuff by the way, doing someone you’re close to, someone who knows you real good. The poor dears are always so surprised when you actually start killing them. Like my poor Daddy. He was so surprised to find out his sweet little girl wanted to do all those wicked things to him. Now two decades later I’ve snuffed and buried four husbands of my own. So I know why Mom was so enthusiastic about doing my Dad that weekend all those years ago. Doing a man you’ve lived with for a couple of years is simply fantastic. Especially if he trusts you and adores you.
Anyway, I’ve had my slave Michael copy down the first few entries in my journal just as I wrote them when I was a teenager. So now they’re all in digital form which is so much nicer. I hope Kim and Lauren enjoy these old accounts as much as I did living them.
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Amanda’s Journal: Playing for Keeps with Boys.
By Amanda Ryan (born who Jan 12 1976)
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Entry One: Sunday Jan 13 1991
Daddy Is So Snuffed.
Mom gave me this journal yesterday for my birthday. I’m fifteen now. The journal’s to keep track of what I do to boys. Especially the boys I torture to death. So I can learn what works, learn what’s fun, figure out what gets me in trouble so I can avoid that and to keep track of the kind of torture that gives me the best orgasms. I hurt so many boys every week I’ve decided to just write about the ones I hurt really, really bad. And that will probably mean only the ones I snuff. At least I hope I get to torture enough boys to death that I have lots and lots to write in my journal. I just turned fifteen and already I know what I want to do with my life. And it’s all about snuffing boys. Like I did my step dad last fall.
It was November 16th last year (1990) when we started on Daddy. For some reason Mom decided it was time to snuff him. And that I could help her. She even let me tell my best friend and lover Tricia about it. Mom and I tied Daddy up, put him in the SUV then went to Tricia’s to get her. And her Daddy. I knew my lover was ready to get rid of her single parent Dad so we decided to kill two birds with one stone. Or snuff two Dads in one weekend. What a treat!
Mom always intended for Dad to wind up burning to death in the cabin. She’d bought the place with that in mind. It was isolated and it had this really old oil heating stove. Mom had fixed the stove so it would leak and catch on fire real easy. So it was a perfect setup to kill a man. Or two men. We could spend a couple days torturing them first then set the cabin on fire and all the marks and cuts and bruises we put on our Daddies would get incinerated in the hot blaze. Mom said she’d had the two fifty-five gallon drums filled to the top with heating oil. We were going to let most of it leak into the cabin before we set those two men on fire. That was going to make a hell of a fire. Mom said we’d make sure our Dads were still alive when we torched the place. So we could hear their final screams. It sounded like fun when Mom described it on the way to the cabin. And it was fun! Even better than I’d expected.
Dad screamed a lot. So did Mr. Deering. That’s Tricia’s Dad. That was fun hearing them scream and beg and plead with us to stop. The kept shrieking even after we rubbed heating oil on their lips and throat and set it on fire. But at least their screams weren’t so loud after we burnt off half their faces. Before we did that and muffled the worst of their screams Trish and Mom and I were having trouble hearing ourselves talk about how we wanted to torture them next. Burning their throats helped a lot. And it was cruel and wicked and evil. So you know it had to be fun.
Anyway, to make a long story short, we did Mr. Deering first. Mom said we needed to get smoke and stuff in his lungs so it’d look like he died in the cabin fire. So we poured some heating oil in a bucket, cut off some of the curtains and part of the bed spread and added that to the bucket. We even busted up a chair and put some pieces of wood in the bucket. Then we lit the stuff on fire and held Mr. Deering’s face in the flaming bucket. You should have heard him howl! It was hilarious. We held him in that fire for a good minute then we pulled his face out of the fire and just made him breath the smoke. His lips were all cracked and split from where the flames fried them. And his cheeks were blistered. His nose was a blackened stump and his eyes were wild! I mean really wild. He didn’t have any eyebrows or eye lashes or even eye lids left and with his blackened face the white of his eyes looked almost spooky. But since we’d done that to him on purpose it didn’t really look too spooky. I thought it looked funny.
After that Trish and I used our lighters and matches and cigarettes to burn Mr. Deering all over his body. He still had his clothes on so we burned most of those off first. With the man still in them. It was a blast the way he twitched and jerked and screamed when we set his shirt on fire. It was even better when we poured oil down his pants and set those on fire. We’d unzipped his pants first and Trish jacked her Daddy off until he had a nice hard erection then we lit him on fire. God it was great!
It’s not like our Dads are bastards or anything. We weren’t killing our Dads because they’d been mean to us or abused us. Just the opposite in fact. Tricia’s Dad has always tried to do his best for his little girl ever since Tricia’s Mom died. A single guy raising a daughter on his own can’t be easy. Donald Deering did a decent job raising Trish. It’s not his doing that his precious little girl is a sadist. She was born that way. Just like me. But when you’re the father of a cruel and sadistic daughter you might as well expected to get snuffed. It’s just too tempting.
We had a blast that weekend. We started Friday night and set the final fire late Sunday afternoon. In between we tortured those two men until they were begging us to snuff them. Oh, and we made love a lot to. Me and Trish. And me and Mom. And Mom and Trish and me. Mom and I had never jumped in bed together before that weekend. I guess when a Mom and daughter kill a Daddy together it’s just too sexy and hot not to wind up fucking. It was good too. Not at all weird. Mom and I hop in bed a couple times a month even now. She’s only thirty three and her body is amazing. Mommy has the tightest little pussy! And she’s ridden more cock than a dozen women her age put together. I hope I can stay as fit as Mom when I’m her age. She says it’s from torturing men a lot. It keeps her young and healthy.
We did my Daddy pretty much the same way we did Tricia’s. Mom brought some needles and we had fun jamming those under Dad’s fingernails. And sticking them in his eyes. We had to count the needles when we were done. Couldn’t leave any behind. It’d look odd if Daddy had a needle sticking in his eye when they found what was left of his blackened body in the burned out hulk of the cabin. Needles poking out of a man’s eyes and balls and cock wouldn’t look much like an accident.
Anyway, we had a bunch of fun that weekend. And I got my first SNUFF! That’s how I’m going to mark the entries in this journal. I’ll count my snuffs. After torturing Daddy to death I know there’ll be lots more entries soon. It’s so much fun snuffing guys. Especially Daddies.
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Entry Two: Sunday Oct 12 1991
Steven Plays a Deadly Game.
It’s been too long since my last entry. I thought I’d have another snuff under my belt by now. It’s been ten freaking months before I got to snuff another guy! Oh well. Sometimes good things come to those who wait. I’ve been patient a long time now. Too long. But Tricia and I did have the most delicious fun last night. We got to play with this stupid boy from school. His name’s Steven Wingate. Or I should say his name was Steven Wingate. He’s dead. Trish and I snuffed him. We did it slow too. So we could enjoy it.
The idiot boy invited a few of us to his house cause his parents and little brother were out of town. He’s older than me. He’s between me and Tricia at school. I’m a sophomore. Steve’s a senior. Anyway, there were three other boys and two other girls at this ‘party’. They were all losers. Trish and I only went because Stevie said they were going to play the choking game. We wanted to see that. And maybe get to choke the life out of one of those foolish boys.
Steven had it all setup. He’d made a choke rope out of braided scarves. So it was soft and didn’t cut into the neck too much but you could wrap the braided rope around a boy’s neck and pull real tight and choke him until he passed out but without leaving much of a mark. We watched Steven and another boy hang themselves from the closet door until they got red in the face, then white, then they’re eyes rolled back in their head and someone untied the rope and let them down. But that’s not where the fun part happened. That happened when Tricia said we should play the game so the person getting choked was naked and someone else jacked them off. If they were a boy. Or fingered their cunts if they were girls. That got all the boys excited and eager to be the first one to get choked. The other slutty girls went along cause they were losers.
We did Steven first. Trish wrapped the rope around his neck, I hung it on the hook on the door and then she and I jacked him off together. We timed jerking him off so he shot his load just as he passed out. Trish cut him down and we told Sylvia, one of the other girls at the party, to give him mouth-to-mouth. He didn’t really need it but it was fun to watch those other three boys get all excited and aroused when she put her lips on Stevie’s mouth.
That Sylvia girl’s a slut. Everyone knows that about her. I don’t like her much but she can be useful. Like I knew she’d see it as a win if Trish and I decided to leave the party early and leave her and her friend Crystal there alone with four horny boys. Which is exactly what we did. I wanted lots of witnesses to the fact that Trish and I left early. When everybody was still alive and having their kinky fun.
We went home and watched ‘Saturday Night Live’ with my Mom. Kristie Alley was the guest host and that girl is sexy. She’s on that TV show Cheers and she’s voluptuous and hot and slutty! I could see getting it on with her. I love her luscious lips. I bet she licks pussy real good. I bet she likes to do boys too. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were OK on the show. So was Phil Hartman. But that Chris Farley guy bombed. What an asshole. The fat fucker. I’d like to take a shotgun and ram it all the way up his big fat butt and fire off a couple of rounds. Anyway, watching the show gave me and Trish a perfect alibi. When the cops came this afternoon and said Steve had been found hanging dead from his closet door by Tricia and I were ready.
The cops said Steve’s little brother found the body. It never occurred to me Steve’s brother Tommy would find the body. That’s just a bonus. I bet that little wiener Tommy is traumatized forever by the experience. At least I hope so. I’ll have to ask him about it once he gets back to school. Anyway, the cops knew we’d been at Steve’s earlier. Mom told them we were both with her from ten o’clock last night and all day today. Mom’s pretty persuasive, especially with the police. She knows how to deal with them. She’d snuffed four husbands. She’s had lots of practice with cops. Trish and I could recount every skit and joke from last night’s show to prove it. It’s live TV. So we couldn’t have known what’d be on last night. No way can the police pin Steven’s murder on us.
I don’t know how many times the other kids at Steven’s house played the choking game after we left. But Trish and I went back to Stevie’s house about two hours after midnight. The house was dark and the back door was unlocked. I’d made sure it was when we’d left earlier that night. Nobody saw us go in that boy’s house the second time. And it was all quiet when we crept up to Steven’s room and woke him up. We asked if he’d like to play the choking game again. We told him we’d jack him off and fuck him is he did. Of course he said yes. Only this time we wanted to add a new wrinkle. We wanted to have him put his hands behind his back so we could wrap them in plastic wrap. We told the stupid boy it’d make his orgasm ten times more intense. What it was really going to do was make our climaxes ten times more intense when we snuffed him and he couldn’t get his hands free to stop us. But we didn’t tell Stevie that. No sense scaring the poor boy.
It worked perfectly. For us. We stood him up, bound his hands behind him, backed him up to the door, wrapped the one end of the long braded scarf rope tight around his neck and then tossed the other end over the door. Then Trish and I hung on the end until Steven’s feet were off the floor. He squealed and I think he would have shouted but the scarf was tight enough all he could so was squeak. It was hilarious. Tricia and I kissed while he made that boy hang by his neck. God did he kick his feet and bang his body against the door. We kept kissing and making out and holding Steven off the floor by his throat until the boy stopped moving. Then we let him go and checked him out. His heart was still beating but he wasn’t breathing. I was about to do mouth-to-mouth on him when Trish stopped me. DNA. Couldn’t leave any traces on the body. But we didn’t want him dead this quick either.
Trish solved it by using bicycle pump to revive him. Steve was a big time mountain biker. He had all sorts of equipment in his room. Trish jammed the pump’s hose in his mouth and we pumped air into our prey. It took a couple minutes but eventually his body lurched and he started breathing on his own. So we hauled him back up, put the scarf around his neck and choked him out again. Before we pulled his weight off the floor he asked us why we were doing it. We laughed and said,’ Isn’t it obvious? It’s fun for us you shit head. And we’re not going to stop having this fun till you’re dead Stevie boy’.
He started crying then. And God did his feet kick against the door when Trish and I put our weight on that braided scarf rope and pulled up off the floor. Trish had the brilliant idea to lower him just before he passed out. We let him rest a minute and sort of half catch his breath then we hauled his body up again and let the rope tighten around his neck and choked that boy. It was soooo much fun! We must have gotten him to pass out five or six times. The last couple times all he could do when we let him rest was drool and mutter incoherently. I think we must have killed half his brain cells because poor Stevie didn’t even know his name when we asked him.
It was good snuffing a boy in as good a shape as Steve. All that bike riding he did paid off. For us. We made him last almost two hours. It was a delicious snuff. Trish and I went back to my house and we made sweet, sweet love till sunrise. Mom heard us and she came in to see what all the celebrating was about. She knew what we were going to do to that boy. We told her all the details and she got so excited and we got all excited again so Mom got in bed with us and the three of us fucked every way girls can fuck each other. It was amazing. I love Tricia. I love my Mom. But mostly I love snuffing unsuspecting innocent little boys.
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Entry Three: Saturday Feb 15 1992
A Boy Got Strangled Last night
Well I thought I’d get to do a boy on my birthday. I wanted to. But I turned sixteen almost exactly four weeks ago and there was no naked boy tied up for me when I woke up. Ha ha ha. Just kidding. Although that would be a wonderful birthday present. And a girl can always wish. Mom told me how my Grandma Bridgitte gave her a boy for Christmas one year. Mom was twenty at the time. She came home for Christmas and her Mom had a boy sitting under the tree wrapped all pretty for her. Mom said he was naked and had a big bow tied around his neck and his hands and feet were cuffed so he made quite a nice little package. The tag on the bow around his neck said he was for Mom and he was a toy designed specifically to get broken beyond repair on Christmas day. So Mommy and Oma spent the next six hours torturing that boy before they snuffed him. I think that’s my best Christmas story ever.
Anyway, a girl can’t expect Santa Claus to deliver snuffable boys to her so Trish and I went out last night and found our own boy. I’m driving legal now. I’ve been driving since I turned fourteen. That’s they year Mom got me a fake ID and license that said I was seventeen. So even though I’m sixteen and have my own license I took the fake one last night when Trish and I went out hunting for a boy to torture. In case we got pulled over or something.
We found the boy about seven thirty. It was already dark by then and nobody saw us pick him up. He was hitching a ride out by the highway. We found out after we tied him up that he was twenty, that his name was Duncan and he had a miserable excuse for a cock. I love to play with big hard dicks but I wasn’t going to have that kind of fun with Duncan. He only had five inches when he was hard. What a loser! But I knew other fun things to do to that boy. Trust me, Trish and I had plenty of fun last night with Duncan.
We strangled a boy named Steve four months ago. It was soooo much fun. I wanted to strangle Duncan too but I wanted to do it different. And since there was no connection between him and me and Trish we could spend a long time snuffing Duncan. So we did.
First we took turns smothering him and reviving him. Trish sat on his knees to hold him down and I sat on his face. I took my jeans off but kept my panties on. It was quirky having his nose stuck up my crack and my slit pressed tight against his mouth. He fought real hard. He slammed his head back and forth and bucked and jerked and tried every trick he knew to get away. We held him down though. And had our fun with him. Every once in a while he’d manage to get out from under me while I was sitting on his face and he’d get to breathe a little before I could cover his nose and mouth up again. At first I was pissed. I wanted to smother the fool. But Tricia pointed out he wasn’t getting enough air to fully recover so we were really just prolonging his agony. I love that girl. She’s so smart. And cruel!
So after that the game became how to keep Duncan alive and in pain for as long as we could. Well, we made it last almost to sun up. We tortured him about twelve hours. I lost count of how many times I climaxed. My pussy was sore and swollen from Trish licking and sucking and probing me with her tongue and fingers and lips. She was sore too from where I’d done that to her. And Duncan, well before we killed him he was sore and bruised and cut and burned all over.
After Trisha and I smothered him senseless and revived him three times apiece Duncan lost a lot of his fight. We tied his hands behind his back. Tricia found a four foot piece of iron pipe and we tied one of his ankles to each end. So his legs were spread nice and wide for us. That way one of us could smother or strangle him and the other one could kick him in the nuts. It was loads of fun. It was funny too how he got dumber and dumber the more times we smothered him. The boy was drooling and grinning like a baboon and rolling his eyes at us like a chicken head eating geek after just a couple hours. God that was fun!
We burned him of course. With our cigarettes and lighters. Trish set his hair on fire about three AM. She worked some hair gel into his hair first. Who knew that stuff was so flammable! It was hilarious the way the flames engulfed that boy’s head and the way he screamed. After we’d picked him up by the side of the road we took him to this abandoned farm we knew about. We had him in an old concrete silo so he could scream all he wanted and nobody would hear. That made it more fun.
Strangling him was good too. I found some barbed wire and we wrapped rags around the ends of a four foot piece. Then we wrapped the wire with its sharp barbs around Duncan’s neck and Trish took one rag wrapped end of the wire and I took the other and we pulled. We’d made a barbed wire garrote. It was hot! We could pull real tight and cut off all the boy’s air or we could just put a little tension on the wire wrapped around his throat and tease him with the prospect of getting strangled. We did both. Over and over again. The boy’s neck was a black and blue and bloody mess when we got tired of that game.
We’d put a foam mattress in the SUV before we’d left home and we used that when we needed to make love. We did that a lot that night. Smother the boy, go fuck each other some, strangle Duncan for half an hour, go get naked on the mattress and eat each other some, go back to our prey and smother and choke and burn and savage him until we were so horny we needed some more sweet girl on girl loving. It was glorious. And it lasted all night. There’s something about making love to a hot little bitch like Tricia while a boy’s shrieking in agony that just does something to me. Something good. Something wicked. Something that’s better than anything else I know. Anyway, we snuffed that boy last night. We did it slow. We did it out way. We had fun. And we’ll do it again to another boy just as soon as we can.
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Entry Four: Monday July 5 1993
A Fourth of July Snuff
Trish and I went shopping early yesterday to get some things for a big July Fourth party we’d been invited to. We came out of the mall and this guy followed us! Cute guy too. Even if he was twenty three. The perv! Hitting on nice teenaged girls like me and Tricia. Anyway, he made some lame comment and it was clear he wanted to hook up with us. So we let him think he’d succeeded. I let Trish get in the van first then opened the sliding driver’s side door and told the boy to get in. That side of our van was parked against the wall so nobody would see what we did to our prey. I rubbed up against the guy and told him to get in first. I grabbed his crotch when I did it. Playfully. He had an awesome package! Oh goody I thought. A nice big cock to torture and fuck.
Tricia zapped him once he as all the way in the van. A girl should always keep a couple of fully charged stun guns handy. In case some cute guy happens along! I grabbed the guy’s crotch again only this time not so playfully. More like painfully. I squeezed his balls good. Then I punched him in the nuts a dozen times while my lover girl used some of those plastic cable ties to bind his wrists and ankles. The guy was trying to yell but his muscles were all seized up from the electric jolt Trish had given him. I told Trish to stand back and hit him again with the stun gun. I kept the trigger down for a good long ten count. You should have seen how his body convulsed and his eyes bugged out and he slobbered all over himself. It was precious. By the time he got it together to shout for help we had a gag rammed down his throat and the boy was ours! Now all we had to do was figure out what we wanted to do to him. The big July Fourth party was a good six hours away. That seemed like plenty of time to torture and snuff our boy.
The party was at this loser’s named Mark Tilden. He lives down the street and he’s kind of a dirty old man. But he throws great neighborhood parties and he lets me and Tricia drink beer and wine and Margaritas so we pretend to be nice to the old fart. God, he must be forty three or forty four or something. I doubt his dick even works anymore as a fuck stick. But he lets us do just about anything at his parties if we wear shorts and loose revealing tops. Men! They’re so easy to manipulate and control with a little show of skin and a sexy grin.
Anyway, a week ago Mark had taken a road trip down to South Carolina to pick up a butt load of fireworks in preparation for his big July Fourth celebration. He’d been talking about the show he was going to put on in the neighborhood cul-de-sac all week. I’d seen his stash of firecrackers and roman candles and rockets. He must have had ten boxes full of stuff full of rockets and flares and bang-bangs and all sorts of good shit. So I knew he’d never miss a bag or two of his precious fireworks. Tricia kept an eye on our boy and I slipped in to grab some of the pyro technic marvels. Trish wanted to shove firecrackers in our boy and light him up. That sounded good to me so we had a plan, a boy and a place for snuffing him. Perfect! We grabbed a cooler of beer and some chips and dip from Mark’s place and headed out to the lake. A girl gets hungry and thirsty snuffing boys. We went to the lake cause we’d found an isolated place near there where you could take a boy and play as rough as you wanted with him. There was nobody within miles to hear him shriek and yell and beg for mercy.
Our boy’s name was Peter something or other. I looked at his driver’s license and got the Peter part. His last name was weird, like Greek or Russian or something. We just called him Pete. Or slut. Or snuff muppet. Petey didn’t care for that but we didn’t give a fuck what he cared about. It was all about me and Trish.
The whole idea was to snuff the silly boy. So we got started right away. Trish laced a string of those little Chinese firecrackers in between Peter’s toes and lit them up. They didn’t do too much damage to our boy. He kept all his toes but he did squeal nicely for us. After that we finished off the last eight strings of firecrackers by winding five strings around his neck and three around his balls. Lighting those suckers up was a real thrill. Poor Mark almost lost it. His neck was a mess when it stopped and he was having trouble breathing. Trish used a screw driver to poke a hole in his trachea and we went on having our fun.
We’d gotten a couple of these things called maximum thrust rockets. They looked just like little tiny rocket ships. Trish jammed one up Peter’s butt and I shoved the other down his throat. He was already huffing and puffing from the firecrackers popping off around his neck and we weren’t sure he was going to last too much longer so we went ahead and loaded him up with the rest of the wicked stuff we’d lifted from the party supplies.
We had these things called Big Bad Bangers. They were like big cherry bombs. I got the idea of trying to shove a couple down Peter’s cock. I know it sounds impossible. I mean the Bangers were over an inch and a half in diameter. That’s a lot to push down a boy’s pee hole. But we didn’t care how much damage we did. In fact. The more damage the better so I got a stick that was the same diameter as the Big Bad Banger and used a knife to sharpen ne end to a nice point.
That’s what I shoved down Pete’s dick. He was soft of course. What boy’s going to keep his boner after he’s had firecrackers set off around his balls and neck. Plus he had six inches of firecracker rocket jammed up his butt and down his mouth. I mean, Trish and I are attractive and sexy and hot looking but poor Petey couldn’t keep it up even for us. I didn’t take it personal. I wanted to snuff the boy not make love to him.
The stick worked perfect. I’d snapped off a piece at the pointy end about four inches long. That’s what I poked down Peter’s cock. God did he scream. The stick still had bark on it and it was rough and boy did it do a lot of damage to the inside of that boy’s piss tube. Fortunately the stick blocked most of the blood mess that tried to leak out. But Peter sure did howl. He got a little woozy from the pain. Tricia slapped that silly boy dozens of times to get his attention and wake him up. When he was alert enough I jammed the big round cherry bomb behind the stick and pushed and pushed and shoved until I got the whole thing down Peter’s prick. It was fantastic. He wasn’t hard but he had a two inch round, six inch long stubby cock poking out from his crotch. It wasn’t as good as a real hardon but it would do.
We lit his up all at once. I cheated and used my lighter to roast his cock a bunch before I lit the Big Banger jammed in his dick. Tricia did the same with the rockets shoved up his butt and down his throat. We figured we weren’t going to have much more of a chance to torture the poor boy once those three fireworks blew up inside him. But we were wrong about that. The fuses were sputtering. Trish and I stepped back a couple feet and then BOOM!
The one down his dick went off first. His cock didn’t explode exactly but it was sure ruined. A big rip split Peter’s cock starting down where the stick and the Big Bad Banger met. The spilt went all up the side of his fucked up shaft and even split the boy’s cock head. What was left of it. I’d guess half of it was just blown to smithereens. Peter wasn’t going to ever pee right again! He looked hilarious the way he was screaming and thrashing and writhing. I wanted to shove my hand between Tricia’s legs and feel her cunt. I knew my girlfriend was hot and wet cause I sure was. But the fuses on the rockets were getting close to the payoff so I stayed where I was and focused on Pete.
I’m glad I did. The one in his ass went first. BOOM! Then Boom! Boom! Boom! Four wonderfully powerful explosions rocked Peter’s body. It wasn’t as loud and the bomb that blew up his cock but it was still loud enough. We’d tied him up so he was on his back with his legs spread. You could see his ass and see how that rocket went off inside the boy. The first explosion was designed to power the rocket up into the air. Since we’d shoved it up Pete’s ass the initial boom just shoved the rocket up his butt another couple inches. Then the nest muffled explosions shook Peter’s body. Those were the ones that set off the colored flower shaped sparklers that would have looked so pretty in the dark night sky.
But in this case all those explosions did was ignite all those hot metal particles up inside Peter’s rectum. It must have hurt like hell cause our boy’s body jumped up off the bench we’d tied him too and his hips and bely and legs started to convulse so hard and so fast it was like he was some sort of demented robot mach8ne or something. I’d never seen a boy’s body twitch and jerk and pound itself apart so violently. But I know I want to see it again! It was awesome. I couldn’t help myself. I slipped my hand between my legs and let my fingers do the walking into my slit and all around my overly excited pussy. It felt soooo fucking good.
But the rocket going off in his throat was maybe the best. It was the same sequence. A big BOOM! That shoved the rocket another three or so inches down his throat. You could see the thick lump of it in Peter’s neck. It was awesome! Then when the next three booms went off you could see the explosions rippling in the boy’s throat. I swear to God! It was so fucking hot. And I mean that in both ways: the punish way about it being so hot in that boy’s throat and the sexy way in that I was so aroused I actually climaxed. But Trish did even better than that. I stole a glance her way and she was thrusting her hips in and out and moaning like a wild animal and I could tell she was having a multiple orgasm. I almost envied her but then I remembered that after she came like that she always wanted to jam her head between my legs and lick and suck and kiss my cunt till I went out of my mind with pleasure.
Pete on the other hand wasn’t having such a good time. Which is what we’d wanted all along. God it was something. It’s hard to describe how his body was heaving and pulsing and jerking. It was obviously from pain. He was in agony. His pitiful and strangely muted shrieks testified to that. But honestly there was a carnal aspect to his body’s spastic twitches. It looked sexual. At least that’s how I interpreted it. It just turned me on even more. I asked Trish about it later and she said the same thing. It was easy to imagine Pete was having his own sort of excruciating and cruel orgasm. I guess the line between ecstasy and agony really is close. Finding that really makes me glad. I mean, I don’t feel bad at all about torturing boys and snuffing them. But knowing their hips and cocks and their whole bodies are going to thrust and hump and jerk like they’re having sex means I have even more fun to look forward to.
I thought all that we’d done to Peter would kill the boy. Jesus he was a tough little nut! We But it didn’t. At least not right away. We had some smaller firecrackers left so Trish and I got creative. I shoved two little one up his nostrils. Tricia, God you have to love that girl. She figured out she pried up Petey’s eyelids then jammed a four or five of sparklers in each of his eyes. She snapped off the bottom part so the business end, the part of the sparkler that burned so bright and so hot ended inside Pete’s eyeball. When we lit him up the sparklers were going to burn right into our boy’s eyeballs. I couldn’t wait.
The best part was the sparklers kept his eyelids propped open so he had to watch. Pete couldn’t shut his eyes. The last thing he’d see would be our smiling faces as we boiled his eyes and blew apart his body. I couldn’t think of a better way to snuff a guy who seemed as nice and decent as Peter. But, we still had a few things left in the fireworks bag to torture him with. Unfortunately we were pretty much out of Pete holes to stick them in. His balls were toast. His cock looked like a wiener that been on the grill too long and exploded. His butt was a bloody mess. And you could hear air leaking from all the holes in his neck when he breathed. It was great but it was a shame to waste the last few of the pyrotechnics.
I got the bright idea to use safety pins to clip the stuff to his body wherever we wanted. I pinned a couple of the small; cherry bombs to his tits. Tricia picked up on the idea and pinned one under each of his arms. It was neat the way he still lurched and shrieked and tossed when we jammed those sharp long pins into his body. The boy had some fight in him. If we’d been a little gentler we probably could have kept him alive for days of lovely sadistic torture. But Trish and I both were in the mood for a good hard fast snuff. I think Pete was in that kind of mood too poor boy. He looked terrible. And sounded like he was so miserably he’d beg us to kill him if his throat wasn’t ruined.
That thought gave me the idea for where to put the last Big Bad Banger. We had some old rusty pliers with us. I used those to grab his tongue so I could pull it out of his fucked mouth. I stretched it out as far as I could and Tricia used a pin to secure the last of our fireworks to Peter’s sloppy wet red tongue. It wasn’t ideal but we had limited options with our boy so messed up already. Tricia of course milked the last placement for all it was worth. The little vixen! She kept jamming that pin in and out of Peter’s tongue. She must have pierced that kid’s tongue forty times before she pinned the big cheery bomb to him.
We lit him up of course. Since this was supposed to be the end, the grand finale, we used out lighters and burned Pete all over before we set off the fuses. Tricia worked his legs and feet. I did his arms and stomach. We kept burning him and leaning over to steal kisses from each other until Pete’s body was mostly blackened flesh. Or exploded, blown apart body parts. By then the boy was pretty weak. He didn’t have long so we flicked our lighters one last time and put flame to use and lit Peter up. It was awesome! The best Fourth of July display ever! He jerked and his body went into rapid convulsions. It was funny to watch the sparklers stuck in his eyes send their cascades of hot fiery sparks down on our boy’s face and eyes and chest. Oh how he howled.
And when those big cherry bombs went off under his arms his hands flew out and his elbows started to twitch and flap like Pete was some sort of crazy chicken boy it was just hilarious. Then the firecrackers pinned to his tits exploded. It didn’t really blow holes in his chest or anything. They weren’t powerful enough for that. But they did shred his nipples. And it did blow away most of the flesh around his titties and leave our boy with a burned and blackened chest. I found a nice strong branch and whacked the boy in the ribs several times. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I heard a nice crunch and he shrieked a bunch so I think I broke at least one of the man’s rib. It was neat! I liked it!
Finally it all overwhelmed Pete. When the firecrackers stuck up his nose and the bomb pinned to his tongue all exploded practically at the same time his head snapped, he screamed through his fucked up throat and mouth and he stopped breathing. I’m pretty sure he could still see. Tricia and I leaned over him and smiled at him and said we’d really enjoyed the how he’d put on for us. I like to think that in his last seconds of life he saw us and heard us and was thinking about what we’d done to him for no good reason other than we’re two sadistic bitches who like to have our cruel fun no matter what it costs the guys we torture.
It was obvious he was really done. Tricia and I were so incredibly horny we got down on the ground and had ourselves a nasty little sex party. It was frenzied, our mouths and hands and fingers exploring every crack and hole and crevice in each other’s bodies. For a long time the two of us were intertwined on the ground writhing and thrashing and fucking in the most dirty, sexy, lewd way imaginable. We’re such cruel and nasty girls! I love that about myself and my lover. I hope we never change.
After we did the gentle loving nurturing sex thing too. Like always Tricia and I feel so close and intimate after a good snuff. It was after, when we’d both OD’d on ecstatic sex that I made a vow to Tricia that I was going to snuff twenty five boys before my twenty fifth birthday. Sure, it’s silly in a way. I man I’m only seventeen. I’ve snuffed four boys now starting with my step dad almost three years ago. I should be happy about that. How many girls my age get to have that much fun that young. But I figure I deserve to have as much fun as I can. So I’m doing nineteen more boys in the next eight years. That’s more than two a year. Sometimes that seems like a lot to ask and other times it seems like I should be allowed to snuff a boy every week if I wanted. Now wouldn’t that be a perfect world. Maybe someday. A girl can always dream.
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