WARNING! ADULTS ONLY! This is an extreme work of erotic fantasy fiction that graphically describes the violent deflowering and brutal sexual killing of an innocent young girl. All persons, places and events are fictitious. If you are offended by this type of subject matter -- DO NOT READ BEYOND THIS WARNING! This story must not be read by or forwarded to anyone under the age of eighteen, or whatever the age of majority is in your country of residence. To do so may be illegal.

Please note: This is part one of a yet to be completed story.

PROLOGUE 

   Many thanks to the outstanding Jamie Writer for his inventions of Richard and his future world of 2400 AD, where a disastrous gender imbalance in the birth rate has made the killing of large numbers of pretty teenage girls an enticing necessity sanctioned by the state, both to redress the imbalance and raise funds for its always hungry coffers; because anyone can purchase one or more of these enchanting young creatures to kill in the manor of his choice -- with certain restrictions. The governments of the world euphemistically call this massive system for slaughtering innocent girls for pleasure “culling.”

   Jamie’s writing mostly centers on the delights of manually strangling nubile young things to death, but his stories also allude to a number of other state approved girl killing methods, one of which I wish to explore here. So with hope for his forbearance, this is dedicated to Jamie Writer and his Richard, for it is in their fantasy future that the following little tale of erotic horror unfolds.

TRIAL RUN  By MILES ARCHER

   I enjoy my work. Who wouldn’t enjoy spending each work day observing the painful deaths of  beautiful teenage girls and occasionally be the one who actually kills them? As you have probably guessed, I have one of the world’s most sort after jobs. I’m a culling monitor. 
   The position of monitor was originally created to protect the girls who had to die from being killed with excessive cruelty or violence. While it was expected that most men who purchased a girl to kill would want hurt her severely during the process, wanton cruelties such as slowly beating the girl to death were and are prohibited by regulation and in a few countries by law. Here in the North American Union, the standard approved girl killing methods are manual strangulation (using a variety of techniques including the garrote), fast and slow hanging, drowning, firearms, archery (restricted to technically qualified clients only), stabbing and electrocution. The methods have different time limits; that is the maximum amount of time a girl must suffer between when the killing method is first applied to her and when she dies or looses consciousness; with the shortest time being three minutes for electrocution and the longest twelve minutes for strangulation and hanging. Of course there are additional regulations dealing with matters such as sexual relations with the girl before or while she is being killed (both permitted under certain circumstances).
   One would think that all these options and their associated pleasures would be more than enough for a client to chose from, but the erotic death fantasies of men are endless, and so for those who want to kill a beautiful young girl in a manor not sanctioned by the state, special provisions are made -- at a price. If a client is willing and able to pay an enormous premium over the standard culling fee, he is issued a special culling license and or limited exemption from the excessive cruelty restrictions. One of a culling monitor’s duties is to be present whenever a girl is killed in an unorthodox manor, or when a limited exemption allows a client to intensify and extend the duration of a girl’s death agonies.
   It is estimated that between seventy and eighty percent of the adult male population harbors normal fantasies about the erotic delights of killing a pretty young girl, but less than half of these or about twenty-eight percent of all adult males actually do so -- a percentage the cash hungry state would dearly love to see increased. There is a small minority of clients within this group -- about one in twenty -- who for a variety of reasons want to enjoy the pleasures associated with a girl’s painful death, but do not wish to kill her themselves. It then becomes a monitor’s pleasant chore to dispatch the girl for the client so he or she can enjoy watching her suffer and die.
   Finally, the state also experiments with different girl killing methods to keep up with the public’s changing tastes and the evolving nature of the world-wide culling program. As a senior culling monitor, it also is my duty to take part in and sometimes perform these experiments. And herein lies the story of one of the most extraordinary experiences of my career.

   It was a bright May morning when I reported, as ordered, to director Wordsworth’s plush office.I was expecting a pat on the back from the genial old gentleman. The day before I had slowly strangled a cute little blonde to death for one of our wealthiest repeat clients, and he was so pleased with my efforts he said he would make sure the director heard about it. So in a cheerful mood I knocked on the director’s door and respectfully entered. Looking up from behind an acre of polished mahogany he smiled and said, “Come in, Seth! Come in, my boy! Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”
   Smiling in reply, I said, “Thank you, Sir.”
   “Not ‘sir,’ my boy, it’s Jason. There’s no need to be so formal in private.”
   “Thank you...er, Jason.”
   Picking up a folder the director said, “Well, Seth, I have a little project for you that I think you‘ll enjoy.” Without waiting for my reply he went on, “The recent partial relaxation of the excessive cruelty restrictions -- which I don’t fully agree with --  seems to make a new method for stabbing our girls to death practical, and State has asked each of the regional centers to carry out a trial killing to see if this is so.” He handed me the folder and added, “Look this over quickly and tell me what you think.”

   The standard method for stabbing a girl to death usually involves a single devastating thrust into her chest with a fairly large blade to insure that she dies or loses consciousness within five minutes. The method we were assigned to test involved the use of three small specially designed daggers. After reading their description, I asked the director, “Do you have one of these knives, Jason?”
   “Yes, my boy.” And he picked up and handed me what I had thought was his letter opener. It was a beautifully crafted stiletto-like knife with a thin razor-sharp double-edged blade that was five inches long and three-eights of an inch wide for most of its length, and it had a three-quarter inch circular guard before a ribbed ebony hilt. I returned it to the director and continued reading. When finished I looked up and said, “Well, sir...er, Jason, State has given us something of a challenge. Certainly nothing like it has been done before -- at least officially.”
   The director hurrmphed and said, “I agree, my boy. Forget all the bureaucratic nonsense in that folder and tell me in your own words what you think State wants and how they expect us to accomplish it.”
   After thinking for a moment, I said, “On the surface it seems simple and straight forward. Surveys show that clients who stab girls to death most enjoy slowly sinking the blade into the girl’s body, but with the current five minute rule the client only gets to do this once. So State wants to know if stabbing a girl with three of these small knives, and leaving them fully embedded in her body, will kill her within seven to ten minutes. Just between us, Jason, I think State got this idea from the success they’re having with the new three-shot rule for shooting galleries. Since it was implemented our gallery has been booked around the clock.”
   With another hurrmph, the director replied, “You could be right, Seth, but you haven’t said why you think this experimental killing will be a challenge.”
   “Well, sir, that depends on whether or not I’m interpreting the instructions correctly. Assessing how painful it would be for a girl to be stabbed to death in this manor can only be a judgment call based on her reactions as she dies and the not always reliable biological telltales revealed in her post mortem examinatiom.”                                                                                                                  
   “Agreed, but there is no reason to think State expects us to be more precise.”
   “Fine, sir. Then the only difficulty is how long it takes the subject girl to die or loose consciousness. The instructions say we are not to interfere even if it goes beyond twelve minutes -- and there’s the rub. Where do we find a girl who will agree to this?” 
   “Why from the punishment list -- one of the girls who are condemned to public execution. By the way, how many girls are on our current list?”
   “There are three executions scheduled for this month, sir, but one of the condemned girls is such a frail little thing I don’t think she would make an acceptable subject for this.”
   “And the other two?”
   “Either one would be fine, but under the rules set down by the International Convention on the Rights of Culling Victims, exclusive of her other punishments, even a condemned girl has the right to refuse being killed in any manor that would cause her to suffer for more than fifteen minutes, and I‘m afraid what State is asking us to do to a girl could easily cross that deadline -- no pun intended, sir.”
   “Hurrmph! And what does the do-gooder convention have to say about a girl who doesn’t refuse?”
   “Nothing. I don’t think they considered it likely.”
   “Hmmm.” The director tapped his generous chin for a few moments, and then said, “Well there it is,  Seth. You’ll just have to convince one of our two naughty girls not to refuse.”
   Swallowing hard I replied, “Yes, sir.”
   “That’s the spirit, my boy. Now get cracking. I want this experiment to be successfully completed by the day after tomorrow.”
   “I’ll do my best, sir.”
   “I know you will.” And with a smile, he added, “By the way Michael -- that is, Major Kohan -- told me you performed an excellent slow strangulation on that pretty little thing he bought the other day; said her death throes were remarkable, the loveliest and most prolonged he’s seen. Good work, my boy.”
   Without the slightest degree of exaggeration, I replied, “It was my pleasure.”
   I appreciated director Wordsworth’s confidence in me, but I wondered if it was justified in this case. Well, no matter what, I thought, I had better “get cracking.”

   Back in my small office, I reviewed the case files of the two condemned girls. The first was a lovely seventeen year old named Margot who became hysterical when she was bought by a client, and actually tried to attack the poor man who was just trying to do his patriotic duty. The six months of training each girl gets prior to being eligible for selection is designed to reconcile her to her fate. It doesn’t always work. And of course no amount of training can suppress a young girl’s passionate desire to live, or her instinctive fear of dying a painful death. Which is as it should be. Few if any clients would find pleasure in killing a girl, no matter how beautiful, if she was a complacent and willing victim.

   Given her history, I didn’t think there would be any point in interviewing Margot. However, the second girl’s case was unusual and might hold some promise. Her name was Mandy and she was just two weeks short of her fifteenth birthday. According to the records, she had been a model student who was well liked by the other girls and the matrons, but half-way through her training she tried to escape from the center. She was captured, punished, and then because of her otherwise spotless record, returned to training. (The fact that she was a stunningly beautiful girl who would bring an enormous culling fee hadn’t been over looked, I was sure.) But a week later she tried to escape again, and when she was apprehended for the second time there was no alternative but to put her on the capitol punishment list. Looking at her photos, I couldn’t help fantasizing about what it would be like to slowly stab one of those five inch stilettos into Mandy’s nubile adolescent body. But it wasn’t the time for daydreams, so I called the punishment section matron and told her to bring the girl to me at once. 

   Ten minutes later the matron led the handcuffed girl into my office. Mandy really was incredibly appealing little thing. Although she was nearing her fifteenth birthday, Mandy appeared to be no more than thirteen; a definite erotic plus because most clients wanted the girls they killed to appear to be as young and innocent as possible. After staring at the girl in admiration for more that a few moments, I forced myself to say, “Thank you, matron. Please remove Mandy’s restraint, and then you may leave. I’ll return the girl to your section when I’m finished with her.”
   The matron left, but not before giving me a knowing look. A condemned girl has very few rights and protections. So it was not unheard of for an administrator or monitor to take advantage of this and use her sexually. I cannot deny that after seeing Mandy the thought crossed my mind. Sadly, there wasn’t enough time for that kind of pleasure.

   Continuing to look her over, I said, “Please undress for me, Mandy.”
   “Why, sir? Are you going to have sex with me?”
   Angered by her questions (probably out of frustration), I yelled back at her, “It’s not your place to question my requests!”
   The girl jumped with fright and quickly removed her short blue punishment section tunic -- and the result was breathtaking! Mandy was five feet of luscious femininity with an adorable little girl’s face. A mane of lustrous brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and half-way down the subtle curve of her back. Her large dark eyes and small up-turned nose gave her an almost doll-like appearance, and her slender graceful body with its budding breasts was reminiscent of the gorgeous little temple dancers of Thailand. With the soft skin and flawless complexion of youth, Mandy was a miniature dream girl -- and perfect for what we wanted to do to her.
 
   Realizing I had stupidly gotten off on the wrong foot (and feeling a bit remorseful), I gently said to her, “You may sit down, Mandy, and I’m sorry I snapped at you. It was a reasonable question for you to ask.”
   With a shy almost-smile she replied, “Oh that’s okay, Sir. It’s just that I couldn’t think of any other reason why I’d be sent to a monitor.”
   “Have any of the staff members required you to have sex with them?”
   “No, sir. You are the...that is, are you going to make me have sex with you?”
   What a waste, I thought, and with an almost-smile of my own I said, “No, dear. That’s not why you’re here. I’m going to review your case and possibly offer you an option, but it must be clearly understood that you are condemned to death and nothing that happens here can change this.”
   The beginnings of tears welled up in Mandy’s beautiful eyes as she said, “I know that.”
   “Good girl.” I went on, “The rules of the culling program may seem harsh, but I assure you they are absolutely necessary.” As I pompously droned on, my excitement grew with visions of three stilettos deeply imbedded this beautiful teenage girl’s exquisite little body while she writhed in her death agonies. I had killed many exceptionally pretty girls during my career and had been present at the deaths of may more, but little Mandy truly was something special.
   “Mandy, there aspects of your case that have me puzzled. Until the time of your attempted escapes your record was nearly perfect. You must have known that even if you had made it off the grounds you were certain to be caught and punished with what probably is the most painful death permitted under the law.”
   “Yes, sir, I knew.”
   “Did you also know that if you completed your training there would have been at least a slight  chance that you wouldn’t be selected for culling? (A very slight chance in deed for a girl this adorable.)
   “Yes, sir, but that had nothing to do with it.”
   “Then why, girl?”
   “My little sister. She was badly injured in a horseback riding accident, and I...I wanted to see her before she died. I would have come back, sir, honest I would!”
   Taken aback by the scope of the girl’s tragedy, I sat in silence for a minute, and then went on, “I’m sorry, Mandy, I truly am. Unfortunately the law is firm, and what is done is done. Do you know the details of what is to happen to you a week from Thursday?”
   “Yes, sir. I’m to be given twenty lashes and then burned to death at the stake before the staff and student body. I had to watch an punishment execution when I first came here. It was awful, sir. The poor girl had to suffer for such a long time in front of all those people. She seemed to scream forever! I know lots of girls have to be killed because there are too many of us; but why, sir, why do men have to hurt us so badly while they’re doing it to us?” And with that Mandy could hold her composure no longer. She broke down in tears. I handed her my handkerchief and let the sobbing girl cry herself out. 

   Of course there was no answer to the girl’s question -- it was and is one of the great mysteries of human sexuality -- but Mandy’s sad confusion had given me an opening. This was my chance. When she finally calmed enough to hear me, I said. “I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m going to tell you, Mandy. You do not have to suffer through a public execution, but you may not think the alternative I can offer you would be any better.”
   “W-what is it, sir?”
   “From time to time the state conducts experiments on different culling methods. We want you to be the subject for a test that would involve stabbing you to death.”
   Mandy winced at the word “stabbing” but she said, “Go on please, sir.”
   “Simply put, you would be stabbed three times in different parts of your torso and the blades left inside you until you die.”
   Mandy lowered her pretty head and said, “Oh, how awful.”
   “Yes, dear, I’m afraid it would be.”
   “It would hurt me very badly, wouldn’t it, sir?”
   “Yes.”
   “Would it hurt as much as burning me to death?”
   “I would hope not (I lied), but we don’t know for certain. That’s one of the reasons for the test.”
   This is a bright girl, I thought, as I watched her trying to make some sense out of the terrible choices before her. Finally she looked up at me with her innocent doe eyes and asked, “How long would it take me to die?”
   “I’m sorry, but we don’t know that either. The hope is you would be dead or unconscious within seven to ten minutes of receiving the first stab wound, but I must tell you that it could take considerably longer.” 
   That the girl continued to ask questions was beginning to raise my hopes.
   “Would many people be there to watch it being done to me?”
   If I permitted it, the test chamber would be crowded with off-duty staff members who would be eager to watch what would likely be this gorgeous little girl’s horribly prolonged death agonies; but I said, “No, dear. I would perform the experiment on you and it would be video recorded for future study, but no one else would be present.”
   “Sir, my condemnation paper says I must receive twenty lashes before I’m put to death. Would you have to whip me before you kill me?”
   “No. If you agree to this alternative, the condemnation document and its provisions become null and void.”
   With suppressed excitement I believed Mandy was on the verge of accepting, but then she asked, “When would it happen to me?”
   “If all the necessary preparations can be made in time, noon tomorrow. If they cannot, it would sometime on the following morning.”
   “Oh, so soon! I didn’t think it would be that soon!”
   Damn! The girl’s desire to live a few extra days, no matter what, was going to ruin everything. But then to my utter surprise, she said, “I’ll do it, sir. I accept.”
   After looking at her in amazement for a few seconds, I collected my thoughts and said, “That’s fine, dear. I believe you have made the correct choice, and I hope for both of our sakes that this proves to be true.”
   “Thank you, sir.”
   “You’re welcome, Mandy. There is just one thing more. Would you mind telling me the reason for your decision?”
   “There were two reasons. I hated the thought of being stripped naked and dying in front of all those people, but mostly it was the waiting. Each day it gets worse. It’s almost like...well, being killed over and over again. Does that make sense, sir?” 
   “Yes it does.”
   “Can I tell you something else, sir?”
   “Of course.”
   Mandy lowered her head and shyly looked up at me through a lustrous brown curl that had fallen in front of her lovely face, and after a moment’s hesitation said, “Sir, I wouldn’t have minded having sex with you. I sort of hate the idea of dying...well, you know...a virgin.”
   Groan. How could I deny this adorable girl her last request and myself the pleasure of being the one to use her delectable young body for the first and only time? So I cleared my throat and said, “Come to my quarters at nine this evening, and if you still feel this way, it will be my great pleasure to have sex with you. Now get dressed and I’ll take you back to your section.” 

   Upon arriving at the punishment section, I summoned the matron and told her, “As of now, Mandy is officially removed from the punishment list and is to be given every consideration. You will shortly receive written confirmation of this from director Wordsworth, along with instructions for the girl’s future disposition.”
   The matron, surprised by this almost unheard of turn of events, looked at little Mandy who was actually smiling.

   The balance of my crowded day was completely taken up with meetings with the medical staff, video technicians and others to arrange for all the test preparations. For a time, how long they would take to accomplish was unclear, but by six p.m. I knew that lovely Mandy had just eighteen hours to live.
   I returned to my on-site quarters, showered and relaxed over a leisurely meal. At two minutes to nine there was a soft knock on my door, and when I opened it...
   “Here I am, sir. Do you like me like this?”
   “Honey,” I said, “you could make a blind man see.”
   Mandy was wearing a little pale lavender see-through nightgown, and her lovely dark brown hair was done up in little girl curls trimmed with tiny white and lavender ribbons. Giggling she kicked off her small white slippers, pirouetted into the center of my sitting room, and said, “Where do you want me, sir?”
   I walked over, took her soft young body in my arms, kissed her lightly, and said, “You can drop the ‘sir,’ my name is Seth.”
   She looked up with an adorable little smile, and replied, “Yes, Seth,” but then she became serious and said, “I’ve never done this...I mean I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything. So you’ll have to tell me if I do something wrong.”
   “You won’t do anything wrong,” and taking her delicate hand, I led Mandy into the bedroom.

   Standing by my bed, I bent down and kissed Mandy’s lips and then her sweetly perfumed neck. I felt a little shiver go through her slight body as I slipped the nightgown straps over her soft shoulders and let it fall gently around her bare feet. I removed my robe, and seeing that I already was powerfully erect, Mandy exclaimed, “Oh, I didn’t think it would be that big! It will hurt going in, won’t it, Seth, being my first time and all.”
   “Yes, it always does at first.”  
   “I guess that’s why men always want a young girl, because they like the it way hurts a girl the first time it’s done to her.”
   “That’s one reason.”
   “Seth, will you enjoy hurting me?”
   “Yes, sweetheart. A girl’s pain is part of a man’s pleasure, but you‘ll see that it won‘t be all bad.”
   “I hope I’ll be good for you.”
   “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. Now please turn around and cross your hands behind your back.” 
   Picking up the short length of silk rope that had been waiting on my nightstand, I quickly bound the girl’s slender wrists.
   With a tinge of fear in her voice, Mandy asked, “W-why do you have to tie me up, Seth?”
   “It’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Men like it when a girl seems helpless, and many girls like it too.” Reaching around her, I began to gently caress the girl’s pretty little upturned breasts. Mandy started to squirm in my arms, and when I felt her nipples begin to harden I whispered in her ear, “How does this feel?”
   “It...it feels good.”
   I was pinching and teasing her sensitive little nipples now.
   “Do you like being my helpless little girl?”
   “Oh yes, Seth. P-please don’t stop.”
   I turned Mandy around, lowered her delectable young body onto the bed and lay down beside her.
   “Please, Seth. Please do that to my breasts again.”
   “No. I want to do this instead.” And with that I used my teeth and tongue to nip and tease each of the girl’s hard little nipples in turn.”
   “Oooo...th-that’s so good!”
   Reaching between the girl’s supple thighs, I worked a finger into her already wet vagina. Mandy sighed with delight, and when I began to gently stroke her clit...
   “Ohhhhhh, Sethh! I didn’t n-no it could be this waaay! Don’t s-stop! Don’t stop!
   But with Mandy breathlessly squirming with the first sexual pleasures of her short life, I did stop. 
   “W-why...?”
   “Because it’s time for the main event. Is my helpless little girl ready for me to hurt her?”
   “Y-yes, Seth.”
   Moving on top of her, I pushed my throbbing member into the entrance of the girl’s small vagina and began caressing her breasts again.
   “That doesn’t hurt, It f-feels good.”
   Without saying anything I stopped caressing and began squeezing Mandy’s firm little breasts, gradually increasing the pressure until a little furrow of hurt creased her forehead. Then I pushed still harder into the girl and saw her wince in pain as my thick member slowly forced its way up to the fragile guardian of her innocence.
   “How does that feel, sweetheart?”
   “It...it hurts, a little...but it still feels good...is it all the way in?”
   Chuckling I replied, “No, I still have a long way to go.” 
   “Oh, God.”
   I smiled wickedly, and said, “Do you still want to be my helpless little girl?
   “Yes, Seth.”
   “Well then, here comes the real thing.” 
   With a sudden powerful thrust I drove through the girl’s hymen, feeling her tear inside as my member moved up against her cervix. Mandy squealed in pain and I groaned in ecstasy.
   “How did that feel, Mandy?”
   “Oh! It hurt! You really hurt me! Is...is it all the way inside me now?”
   “Yes, dear. It will be better for you now.”
   I slowly withdrew and then eased my member all the way back into the little girl.
   “mmmm...that felt good, Seth.”
   The girl’s small body was incredibly tight, and as I began to move in and out of her, it felt as though my member was being squeezed in a vice of liquid velvet.
   “How does this feel, little girl?”
   “Still hurts...b-but it feels wonderful...oh...ooooh...that’s p-perfect...”
   My pleasure rose as I continued to slowly fuck the gorgeous fifteen-year-old virgin -- but so did the demon. Without wanting to or being able to control it, I found myself driving harder and harder into Mandy’s sweet little body until every thrust was pounding my rock-hard member into her tender cervical wall.
   “Oh! Oh! N-not so... Please! Not s-so hard!”
   But there was no stopping me; the beast was loose. Now I was slamming into the squirming adolescent beauty with all my might -- each thrust hurting her, each thrust beating her internally.
   “Aaagh! No, Seth! Pleeease!”
   It seemed to go on forever with Mandy tossing her lovely head from side to side as blow after blow violently jolted her petite young body.
   “Pleeease! Aaagh! Aaagh! It...aaaagh!..hurrrrts!!
   Crying and begging me to stop hurting her, tears of pain streaked down Mandy’s pretty face, and that drove the demon on to greater fury -- and pleasure. Lost in the terrible need to torture this innocent young girl as much as possible, I used my member as a weapon to viciously stab her again and again. Totally consumed in the madness of lust, it seemed as if I was actually fucking the poor doomed child to death. Bound though she was, Mandy squirmed and struggled in a hopeless attempt to escape my terrible assault. Then...suddenly...she opened her eyes wide in incomprehension, arched her slender torso and screamed -- not in agony but in ecstasy, as her little body shuddered and convulsed in a series of intense orgasms. Then she fell back, limp, her tear filled eyes staring blankly up into to space as I continued to savage her. Ten seconds later Mandy’s back again arched like a bow and...
   “Oh nooo! Not again! Aaaaaaagh! Stop! It’s killing meeeee! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggh!”
   Screaming and writhing in pain and the mindless pleasure of prolonged, shattering orgiastic spasms, Mandy involuntarily raised her slender little girl’s hips to meet me, and that was the trigger. I violently exploded deep inside her, again and again, in blinding waves of pure ecstasy. When it finally stopped and I slowly withdrew from her, little Mandy was crying in a confused mixture of pain and joy.

   Later, lying beside her, I asked Mandy, “Was having sex what you had expected.?”
   She turned her head and looking at me with half-closed eyes, she said, “I...it...oh, it was so wonderful and terrible at the same time I don’t know how to explain it.”
   “Try.”
   After peering into the distance for a few moments, she said, “Well, when you did those things to my breasts...and between my legs, it felt sooo good. And when you were inside me that felt good too, but then you started to really hurt me and I got frightened and all the good feelings went away...but then, somehow, they came back even better. I begged you to stop hurting me...but I didn’t want you to stop. Does that seem crazy?”
   “No, dear, go on.”
   Mandy closed her eyes, and as if reliving the experience in her mind, she said, “It seemed to go on like that for a long time. So I thought that was all there is, but then that thing happened inside me at the end, and it felt so good! I couldn’t believe anything could be so wonderful it almost hurt! And when it happened to me the second time it was so much stronger and it went on for so long, I thought I’d die if it didn’t stop. But when it did end I was so sad it was almost like....like I had sort of died. But I guess that must sound goofy.”
   “Not at all, honey. What you just described a famous author once called ‘The Little Death.’”
   Mandy closed her eyes again and was silent for a long time. I thought she had fallen asleep, but then she asked, “Was I good?”
   “You were perfect, sweetheart.”
   “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave for you and cried and screamed like that, but it hurt so much I couldn’t help it -- honest.”
   For some reason I didn’t want to tell the girl what an incredible turn-on her screams of pain had been, so I just said, “I know that, Mandy, I didn’t mind at all.”
   She became lost in thought for a few moments, and then asked, “Did did you really like hurting me...I mean, did it make you feel good, too?”
   “Yes, but I also enjoyed giving you pleasure.”
   Then, with an earnest look on her sweet little face, Mandy picked up and handed me the silk rope, and said, “Seth, please do it to me again.”

   So I fucked her again, less violently than during her deflowering; and then in response to Mandy’s plea, once again after that. Each time the girl responded with all the urgency and passion of someone desperately trying to squeeze a lifetime of pleasure into a few short hours. When it was finally over, little Mandy, emotionally and physically spent, nestled close to me and quickly fell into a deep sleep, in which I immediately joined her. When I awoke in the morning she was gone

THE END OF PART ONE