Laura's First Child Murder

by Emily

   "There are quite a lot of experiences our human mind is surprising

ill-adapted to deal with." Emily opined, slipping casually into teacher

mode.  "You would have thought that with the long, extensive, and rather

imaginative history of human cruelty, evolution might have equipped us with

more sophisticated coping mechanisms than, say, fainting...  Still, I

wouldn't have thought it wouldn't take rocket science to anticipate that a

girl might just collapse on seeing her mother like this!"

   Robert blushed at Emily's sarcasm and his own clumsiness, as he knelt

over the contused girl's body, attempting to shake her enough to rouse her,

without injuring her more.  It hadn't occurred to him that Ellis might

faint (and bang her head heavily on the corner of the kitchen table) after

being frog-marched into the scene of her mother's tortured murder.  It

hadn't occurred to him because he was having much too much fun thinking

about how he, and his sister-in-law and niece were going to snuff this

pretty eleven-year-old young girl.

   On a good day Robert could walk and chew gum at the same time, but it

was an effort.  So in the extensive list of things that hadn't crossed his

mind, he hadn't thought about how Emily and Laura might be passing the time

while he was out, fetching young Ellis.

   Not that Laura had much sense of time passing.  Her birthday had been a

blur of darkly erotic adventures from the moment her mum had given her a

bright shiny new handgun.  She could feel its cold hardness through her

skirt pocket.  She pressed the gun against her soft thigh, and felt her

pussy itch.  Her pussy was still warm and sensitive, after riding it into

the pussy mound of a dying woman.  She had had just the most intense cum

ever.  She put her top back on while her mum attempt to teach her teenage

daughter a thing or two.

   Emily washed Cheryl's blood off her hands and face, and took the damp

flannel to her daughter's face, just as she had done so many times when

Laura was a baby.

   Tossing the bloody cloth to the floor, Emily took the largest kitchen

knife she could find, and stood, poised above Cheryl's lifeless face, knife

held in both hands above her head.

   Emily patiently explained about the difficulty and effort involved in

beheading someone, that it wasn't an easy or casual affair, especially as a

woman.  But Laura took more notice of how pretty her mum looked.  She

didn't look 37, with very few lines on her clear face, and the extremely

fair complexion of a strawberry blonde that made the slight rose in her

cheeks seem very young.

   Several times Laura had been asked if Emily was her big sister. 

Naturally Emily loooooooooved that!  They did look very alike ...  Laura

wore her hair shoulder length, but it was just as bright and sunny as her

mum's.  Both had rather small faces: Emily heart-shaped, Laura still with a

touch of childish roundness.  Both had clear blue eyes, set quite far

apart, that gave them a strong Teutonic look, with a hint of Asiatic (which

is what you get when you mix Dutch and Polish).

   Emily was a couple of inches taller, at 5' 7", but Laura was catching up

quick.  Laura shoulders were already as broad as Emily's and her breasts

where already slightly larger.  Laura took a B cup, larger than her mum. 

They all had similar narrow waists, but Emily's hips were much wider. 

Laura's botty was still rounding out to a girlie botty.

   "Are you listening" Emily sighed, Laura could be such a dreamy girl.

   Emily swung down the kitchen knife as hard as she could.  The blade

sliced half-way through Cheryl's pale dead throat before sticking.  "You

see" Emily proclaimed, "it's not as easy as people think ...  even with an

axe and a big bloke, it often takes several goes ...  remind me to put an

axe in the car, next time ...  here, you have a go."

   It took both of them to tug the knife free of Cheryl's bloodless throat.

   "It's not really a chopping knife, is it mum ...  its more a carving

knife" and with a slow strong deliberate swish of the blade, Laura sliced a

deep cut under the dead woman's jaw.

   The crash of a temple smashing into tabletop and crack of the back of

head hitting the floor startled them both.

   They both stared at Robert, who grinned sheepishly back.  At his feet

lay the unconscious eleven-year-old body of Ellis.  Her mop of short bright

orange hair was streaked, front and back, with wet crimson trickles of

blood.

   When Robert drew Ellis into her kitchen, her brain collapsed with the

effort of taking in the sight of her mum, spread naked on the table, limbs

bound to the table legs.

   She couldn't take in what a long wooden pole was doing sticking out of

her mum's bare bottom.

   She couldn't make any connection between that piece of wood, and the

sharp stake protruding from the base of her mum's neck.

   She couldn't believe the sight of Laura, a girl just three years older

than her, cutting her mum's throat while Laura's mum watched.

   Her brain went into overload, and just sort of shorted-out.

   Emily gave Robert a gob full of abuse, but Laura got on with dealing

with Ellis.

   The difference between 14 and 11 is the difference between a body half

way through transforming itself into a woman, and one just at the start of

that journey.

   Ellis was slim, pencil thin.  Her breast buds stood high and proud on

her bony chest not because they were big, but because she was so small.  A

tomboyish girl usually found in the upper branches of very tall trees - or

performing clever but pointless daredevil acts on the tops of high walls or

the roofs of buildings.

   Laura's little bother Jack, thought Ellis was really neat, and

contrasted Ellis' high energy and bravery with his elder sister's need to

sleep till noon and the lethargic way she draped herself around the house.

But then, Jack was an eight-year-old little squirt, so what did he know.

   Laura was reasonably pleased with the knot she'd tied around Ellis'

scrawny neck.  Medium gauge nylon washing line is a difficult medium to

work with.  She gave the plump bulge in her uncle's trousers a quick

squeeze, just to get his attention and bring his mind back into the job in

hand.

   He grinned like a giant oaf when he realised what Laura had done, and

reached up on tiptoes to string the washing line around the main beam in

the kitchen's ceiling.

   With everything prepped, Robert and Laura crouched over Ellis, and

lightly tapped the side of her cheek to try and wake her.

   "Oh for goodness sake" Emily whined.  A cascade of water drenched the

girl's face, and she spluttered back into uncomprehending life.  Laura and

Robert, hands under arms, dragged her to her feet.  Emily put the bucket

down.

   Ellis looked up at Emily with big wet green eyes.  "What are you doing

...  what is this ...  what have you done to mummy?"

   The questions tumbled out as quickly as her eyes filled with tears.

   "Shall we hang her now" blurted Robert, well over excited, his big hands

straining on his end of the washing line, ready to yank the girl off her

feet.

   "Shut up Robert" Laura and Emily both said at the same time, and smiled

at their synchronicity.

   Emily took the young girl's face in her hands, squeezing till Ellis'

cheeks puckered, and lowered her own face till her nose touched the stubby

tip of Ellis' cute turned up nose.  Hot tears flowed down over Emily's

fingers.

   "You know your mummy is dead, don't you.?"

   Ellis nodded weakly.

   "And a couple of hours ago, we killed your daddy too."

   Ellis stared blankly into Emily's face; unable to marry the kind tone of

Emily's voice and sweet form of her pretty face with the horror she was

describing.

   "You wouldn't want to live without your mummy and daddy, now would you?"

   Ellis didn't respond.  "So we're going to have to put you out of your

misery, aren't we ...  that would be kind thing to do, wouldn't it?"

   Ellis sobbed quietly, still gazing blanking into Emily close face, aware

of the sent of Chanel and the warmth of Emily's breath on her wet face as

she spoke.

   "Please" she leaked in a whisper, "please don't kill me, please ...  oh

please.  I won't tell, honest."

   Panic began to rise in her voice, and she broke away from Emily's

cradling hands to look at Laura.  "Please Laura" she pleaded with her one

time play-mate, "pleeeeeeeeease".

   Laura stepped forward and wrapped her fourteen-year-olds arms around the

young girl in a surprisingly motherly gesture.  She bent down to Ellis'

small ear and, winking at Robert, whispered, "It's OK, we'll be quick."

   "NNNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnn...." Ellis screamed as Robert yanked on the

washing line, which snapped shut around Ellis' neck, strangling the "O" of

"NO" as her body was dragged up into the air by her neck.  Emily and Laura

had to step back smartly to avoid Ellis' arms and legs flailing around

wildly.  Robert yanked again, lifting the small girl a foot off the floor,

and then again, and again, and again.

   Ellis dangled high from the kitchen ceiling, her legs blindly kicking,

her clawed fingers grasping at the washing line biting tighter and tighter

into her throat.

   Emily lunged at Ellis' feet, and struggling to hold them tight together,

waited while Laura improvised a knot of tea-towels to bind Ellis' ankles.

Suffering from a couple of bruised kicks to her chest, Emily grabbed Ellis'

arms, and forced them sharply behind Ellis' shoulders, while Laura repeated

her tea-towel trick.

   With Ellis properly trussed ("Shit, let's remember to do that BEFORE we

string them up" Emily complained to no one, rubbing her left breast, where

she'd been kicked) the girl could merely twirl slowly, making almost silent

strangulated gurgles, bulging eyes looking pleadingly at her former friends

below.

   Robert clambered up onto the kitchen table, standing over the dead body

of Ellis' mother, and dragged the nylon washing line along the massive

ceiling beam, inching Ellis' hanging body toward her mum, till she was

hanging directly over her mummy's bare chest.

   Emily and Laura were delighted at Robert's, for once, good idea.  Now,

they both realised, if they opened up Ellis' small firm belly, her guts

would tip out over her mother's chest, neck and face.  The two girls beamed

at other, as Laura held up the long kitchen carving knife.

   Small problem was, by moving Ellis, the line holding her had dropped

just a little to the floor, just enough for Ellis, standing on tip toes, to

support herself on her dead mum's ribs.  She was just able to suck a little

air down her constricted trachea.  Not enough to stop her from being

strangled to death ...  but at this rate, Laura was going to miss the four

o'clock appointment Robert had arranged for her fourteenth birthday

present.

   "Argh" observed Robert, and he wondered off.

   Laura clambered up on the kitchen table, and undid Ellis' simple white

cotton blouse, pulling it open.  Ellis tried to look at Laura with a

pleading glare, but she couldn't look down with her neck stretched nearly

to breaking point.

   "Look mum" Laura commented, "she's got the same bra I used to have", as

she slid the flat blade of her knife between the goose-bumped soft swelling

of Ellis' AA cup breast, and the elastic of her tiny white bra.  Turning

the blade outward, Laura slid the knife up and sliced through the bra,

which pinged open.  Laura whipped the limp bra cups off Ellis' chest, and

slowly ran the knife up the side of Ellis' breast.  The cold of the metal

made Ellis' pale pink nipple grow and darken.

   Laura deliberately dropped the knife.  It plunged, tip first, into the

soft fatty wobble of Cheryl's right breast, just below the flat nipple. 

With her hands free, Laura pulled down Ellis' skirt and panties, till they

dangled round her ankles.

   Ellis now stood, exposed, precariously balanced, her toes aching, trying

to find a solid perch on her mother's dead body, the line around her neck

slowly pulling the vertebra of her spine apart.

   DING-DONG chimed the front door.  Laura froze standing on the kitchen

table, and face pale, turned to her mum.

   Emily exuded calm.  See smiled at her daughter, drew her gun from her

trouser pocket, kissed its barrel and winked.

   Two neat young men in there twenties, dressed suits and clipboards and

smell of moral rectitude smiled insincerely at Emily (who had a sudden

panic: had she wiped all the blood off her face?).

   "Mam" the one with even more perfect teeth started off on automatic

pilot.  He oiled the phony plastic charm of an American missionary.  He'd

sent to tame the Godless, which surprisingly evidently extends to England.

And he'd sent to makeover the whole world into the image of Salt Lake City,

though sadly glossing over the Olympic bribes and rampant incest.

   "Mam, do you believe their is too much evil in the world, would you like

to see a world with more love".

   "How fascinating" Emily truncated his auto-patter with her best girlie

charm, "why don't you come in".  She waved the two in and pointed them at

the kitchen.

   Mr-More-Perfect-Teeth-Than-The-Other-One cried out "Oh My GOD!!!!!". 

Which is fairly stupid thing to say when faced with a image of utter

Godlessness, as he opened the door into Emily and Laura's impromptu torture

chamber, with it's naked impaled corpse and young girl being hung from the

ceiling.  The other one strained to see past his colleague, but had his

vision obscured by his brains being blow out through what had been the

front of his face, as Emily shot him neatly up through the back of his

head.

   Falling, his dead body knocked over Mr-Perfect-Teeth as well, who,

panicking, scrabbled to get himself out from underneath, shouting something

incoherent about "Oh Sweet Jesus".  Emily tried to get him to shut up, she

wanted to say something like "I hate fucking Mormons" before wasting him.

She wanted him to know that it was personal, to look her in the eye when

she said it.  But he wouldn't stop talking (Americans, er!  Don't no the

meaning of 'reserved'), fidgeting to get away.

   She looked up at her daughter; "Do you want him?" Laura shook her head.

Emily pointed her gun at the young man's heart ...  which did silence him

for a second, "You know laddie, the bad news is ...  God died a long time

ago." The bang of the second shot rang around the kitchen, making Emily

feel a little self-conscious ...  hoping the neighbours wouldn't hear ...

then she remembered, she WAS the neighbour!

   Silence settled like dust in the kitchen.  And Emily suddenly became

intensely aware of something, which Laura articulated with a "Poooooooh",

screwing up her nose and pointing at the brown stains running down Ellis'

legs, and puddled in little pats on her mum's chest.  Ellis had shat

herself.  Laura smiled, and traced an index finger through a line of runny

light brown shit, and wiped it across Ellis' pale pink thin lips.

   Robert burst into the room, "What's wrong, I heard gunshots, you haven't

wasted her already without me ...  who are they ...  and pooh, what's that

smell".

   "Nothing's wrong.  No.  Just a couple of dead Mormons.  And Ellis' shit"

answered Emily in order, as she dragged Perfect-Teeth out of the way.

   "Oh" said Robert, realising he wasn't going to be offered any more

satisfactory explanation, so instead, he triumphantly held his hand aloft,

"Look" he announced.  In his hand, a large heavy ten-pound hammer.

   Emily clicked immediately, "Wow Robs, darling, two ideas in one

afternoon, you'll be needing a lie down soon ...  come on then".

   Robert climbed on to the kitchen table, and motioned Laura to stand

clear (she jumped down).  He bent down to the level of Ellis' knees. 

"Emily" he commanded, "hold her legs still here", and with a giant swing of

his long arm, swung the hammer round on to Ellis' shin.  The quick sharp

crack of Ellis' leg bone breaking distorted the pretty girl's face into a

silent tableaux of agony.  The shattered leg unable to support her, and

losing the marginal perch her other leg had, Ellis' neck strangled even

tighter.  Emily took hold of the second leg, as Robert shifted his bulk and

brought the hammer down with a second massive jolt.

   You could see the girl's face turn from pale to a ghostly blue.

   Emily climbed on to table, as did Laura, the two of them pushing Robert

off.  Emily took the heavy hammer.  She carefully felt for a rib, and then

with both hands, smashed the hammer round in a half-body circle till a

satisfying SNAP could be heard.  Emily worked methodically, first an upper

rib on one side, then one on the other, then back again.

   Laura watched, close up, feeling so close to her wonderful mummy, till

Emily had broken the first half dozen, and you could really begin to see

Ellis' chest cavity begin to cave in.

   Laura took out her kitchen knife, and dallied with it for a minute,

playing the tip of the knife between Ellis' immature pussy lips, and trying

to flick it up her underdeveloped clit hood.  Then abruptly, Laura stuck

the knife an inch into Ellis' lower belly.

   "Duh" Laura cried, self-mockingly, as she realised she'd stuck the blade

in pointing down, not up, as she wanted.  She pulled out the knife.  Its

tip was dressed was a thick coat of bright crimson blood.  She held it up

close to her face, and then reached across and offered it to her mum.

   Emily stopped her hammering, the carefully licked down from the tip of

the knife.  Laura put the knife in her own mouth, and smiled at her mum. 

Her lips dribbled vampire blood red.

   Laura stuck the knife into Ellis' a second time, and this time, with

both her small teenage hands on the blade, drew the knife up over Ellis'

belly, across her stomach, up to the bottom of the increasingly shattered

rib cage.

   She signed to Robert for help, and together they peeled back the skin

and stomach muscle, opening up Ellis' tummy.  The smell was so intense,

Laura nearly fainted.

   Blood rivered down Ellis' lower body and legs from the opened guts.  The

coil of Ellis' intestines slowly began to snake out of her body cavity. 

The cream-grey twisty tube, you could see the bulges where the shit was

passing through her, crawled down her leg, and began to pile into a tangle

across her dead mum's cooling dead tits.

   Laura pushed her face into the gore of bloody organs, and stepped back

off the table, her face coated in a blood mud-pact.  Emily looked into

Ellis' body closely too, poking it with finger.  She jumped when Ellis'

liver slipped out, but not completed, being strung up by it's attaching

blood vessels.

   Emily and Laura each put an arm around Robert, and together admired

their handy work, as Ellis swung slowly above her mum, her guts spilling

out, her chest smashed in, her purple face bug-eyed, tongue poking out of

her mouth.

   "What a dame fine piece of work" Emily announced, proudly,

"interruptions notwithstanding", kicking the dead Moron with slightly less

perfect teeth.

   "Do you think she's dead yet" Laura ventured.

   "For her sake, darling, I do hope so." Then Emily crouched down, opened

up the flies of the nearest moron, fished out his limp cock, and sliced it

off with the kitchen knife.  Handing the bloody slug to Laura with the

words "souvenir darling".

   Laura wrapped it in kitchen paper and popped it in her backpack.

   "Come on you two, it's nearly four, and time for my present".