Author: Serum114

Email: SerumStories@gmail.com

Title: Girl Scouts Cooking

Codes: M+/g pedo caution nc rape tort ws snuff

Synopsis: 11 year old Chloe suffers at the hands of a violent gang. Her rape, torture, and death acts as revenge on her prosecutor father and intimidation to others that would interfer with gang known as The Omegas.

This story is 100% disgusting and reprehensible. The events depicted are pure fantasy and the result of a warped imagination

I looked at the GPS reading on my phone. “Slow down. She should be about a hundred feet up the road.” My driver slowed. “Turn on the high beams.” The desolate dirt road brightened and I saw a figure a little up the path.

“That her?” A man in the back seat asked.

It was hard to tell through the dark and rain, but as we got closer I could tell it was her. “Yeah. Stop next to her.” The car moved another twenty feet and stopped. I stepped out of the black SUV and waved for the two following to wait. The air was freezing. I walked over to the shaking young woman. “Did you do it?”

“Y…Yeah. I stole all the leader’s cell phones, and cut the hard line. Do you have the money?” The twenty-five year old Girl Scout troop leader asked.

“Yeah. Follow me.” I walked back to the SUV and opened the side door.

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone, right? You’re just gonna take the girl and leave?”

I zipped opened a black duffle bag and pulled out a machete. As I turned, I swung at the woman’s neck.

Her head was severed cleanly and rolled like an awkwardly kicked soccer ball. I walked over to it, picked it up, and tossed it into the woods. I cleaned the blood from the blade on her brown shirt and put it back into the bag. Two of my men in the second SUV had jumped out and were dragging her body into the woods. I got back into the passenger seat and waited for the two other men to get back into their car.

The man sitting behind me spoke. “Stupid fucking bitch.” He laughed.

After another few minutes of maneuvering the winding path, I told the driver to turn his lights off. The two other SUVs followed suit and a minute later, the three small cabins appeared through a clearing. My driver crept slowly closer and parked about 100 feet away. The two other cars parked on either side.

I lit a cigarette and waited as my men disembarked. Nine of my strongest followers walked away from the parked cars and approached the cabins. They split into three groups and positioned themselves strategically around each small building. One walked around the back and two stood by the front door. I took a long drag and flicked the headlights on momentarily.

They kicked in the doors and swarmed the buildings. I pulled a pistol from the glove box. A few seconds later, a woman of about thirty-five years ran from the center cabin. The man guarding the door tripped her. She fell face first onto the wooden deck. The man straddled her and sat on her back. He forced her head back and drew his combat knife over her throat. Blood gushed from the gaping wound and he threw her face against the blood splattered wood. “Cowardly cunt.” I thought. “Leaving all those little girls to die.”

No one else tried to escape.

I savored the hot smoke in my lungs, and waited patiently. After about two minutes, one of my men emerged from the left cabin. He carried a young girl in his massive arms. She kicked and struggled, but her resistance was useless. He carried her toward my SUV and I stretched to open the driver’s side door. As it opened, her screams flooded in. She continued kicking as the man tossed her into the driver’s seat. He held the girl around the neck with his right arm and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a baggy of pills. Those little green pills were the pride and joy of our gang. A unique, synthetic opioid that would put the child in a state to better serve our needs. He took two pills, forced the girl’s mouth open, and shoved them in.

“Swallow um!” The man yelled, placing his left hand over her mouth. The girl struggled for a second before swallowing. He released the girl and slammed the door. Eleven-year-old Chloe Showalter stared down the barrel of my Beretta 92.

“Hello Chloe.” I said. The sound of her name caused the girl to cry even harder. She forced her back against the door and wept. She was a cute kid. Her iCarly pajamas made her look so innocent, so sweet. She pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face. “I know who you are, Chloe.”

“Please don’t hurt me!” The petite brunette screamed into her thighs. “Daddy! Help me!”

“Your daddy’s a fucking bastard, Chloe.” She shook her head, her shoulders trembling violently. “He’s a stupid fucking bastard that needs to learn a lesson.”

“What do you want?!” She screamed as three of the men dragged the final three adults from the cabins.

“I want you to watch Chloe, and realize all this is your father’s fault.” She kept her head buried in her legs. “If you don’t watch,” I spoke with a quiet but domineering voice, “I’ll blow your fucking head off.” The girl let out a few deep sobs before turning her eyes to the scene in front of the car. One of my men had a woman of about forty kneeling with her neck on a tree stump. Another man brought his machete down and a torrent of blood sprayed from her cleaved neck. Chloe shrieked and covered her eyes.

The smell of piss was now evident in the air. I could almost feel her terror radiating from her. I took another slow drag and watched the other two women meet a similar fate. The men left the woman’s bodies and returned to the cabin.

I listened to Chloe scream, and imagined what she must have been thinking.

Gunshots rang out from inside the cabin and small bursts of light shone through the windows. Chloe twitched and yelped at each thunderous explosion. After about 30 seconds, the gunshots ceased. “Look, Chloe.” I chuckled. “Here come your friends.”

The girl’s face didn’t leave her knees as I watched my men bring small, lifeless bodies from the cabins. A pyramid of girl scouts began to form about thirty feet in front of the center cabin. The nine, ten, and eleven year old girls lay in bloody pajamas, stacked six feet high. Five of my men walked back toward the SUV on my right. From the back, they pulled out ten, five gallon gas cans and returned the pile of dead children. They soaked the girls, and one poured a trail of gas toward the SUVs. One man pulled out a book of matches, lit one, and dropped it to the ground. The flame snaked through the dirt, and a massive fireball rose toward the dark, starless sky.

The inside of the car was illuminated by the blast. I looked at Chloe and saw her contorted face through a gap in her knees. For several minutes I watched the gasoline burn away. The helpless child next to me continued wailing as the sweet stench of charring flesh seeped inside the car.

I opened the door and walked around to the driver’s side. The stunned girl didn’t move as I opened the door and grabbed her by the hair. I knelt against her and whispered into her ear. “Do what we tell you and you’ll see your family again. If you don’t I’ll throw your mommy and daddy on the top of the fucking fire.”

“Please don’t hurt me.” She begged, her nose snotty and her eyes red with tears.

“Then come with me.” I forced the girl from the car and pulled her by the hand to the center cabin. I flicked on the light. Preteen brain matter littered the floor like confetti on Bourbon Street. The men followed me and the girl into the cabin. The last to enter was carrying a large duffel bag. One of the men moved a bed to the center of the room while the others moved the rest against the walls. The man with the duffel bag pulled out a tripod and set an HD video camera on top of it. I pushed Chloe onto the bed. She rolled into a ball, screaming and too terrified to dare an escape.

I pull out another cigarette and waited for the pills to take effect. After about five minutes, she stopped weeping. After a few more she sat up. “What do you want?” The girl asked, still scared but drugged into a semi-compliant state.

After a few minutes of coaching the girl, I decided it was time to begin filming. One of my men turned on the video camera, made some adjustments that I didn’t understand, and started recording. I nod at the wide eyed girl.

“My name is Chloe Showalter and I am eleven-years-old. My daddy’s name is Chad Showalter.” She spoke with a flat, monotone voice as her eyes, pupils completely dilated, stared into the camera. “I want you to watch, daddy. Watch your slut daughter get her pussy fucked.” The drug made the child oblivious to what she was saying, and she seemed about to pass out.

I pulled a combat knife from a sheath around my ankle and approached the cross-legged girl. She barely reacted when I pulled the collar of her shirt from her neck and slid the blade down the fabric. Her flat, exposed chest was displayed to the camera. I pushed her back against the bed and cut of her pants. The little girl lay in piss soaked panties, the drugs keeping her docile. I placed the blade of my knife flat against her thigh and slid it under the elastic. The soiled white panties were cut away. The little girl’s bald cunt glistened with piss. I stepped back and let the camera pan over her delicate body as I replaced my knife.

I stepped forward. “Bend over.” I said flipping her onto her stomach. “Stick your butt up.” The disoriented girl offered no resistance as I positioned her doggy style. I reached between the girls legs and violently rubbed her cunt. The camera zoomed in and a mist of piss splashed from her pussy. I pulled my hand away and slapped the child’s tiny ass. She moaned, and a bright red handprint formed. I placed my hand on her right cheeks and spread it. “Spread your ass!” I yelled, but she didn’t react. She almost fell to her side as I pulled her right hand around to her ass. “Spread um with your hands!” She brought her left hand back and her face pressed hard into the cheap, springy mattress.

She spread her pale cheeks wide apart. Her asshole was a tiny pink dot pronounced against the white surrounding flesh. I heard the faint sound of the camera’s zoom motor as it closed in on the girl’s soon to be destroyed hole. I placed my middle finger against the hole and plunged inside. The girl bucked slightly, the drugs still overpowering any pain she might be feeling. I fingered her ass violently, and berated the child. “How does that feel, slut?” She just moaned. “Tell daddy how much you love it.” I saw her shake her head slowly, and stuck another finger into the stretching hole. She moaned again, this time with evidently more pain. I stopped after a minute, my cock ready for action.

I pulled my fingers from her warm anus and flipped the little girl onto her back. She winced as I held my fingers to her nose, forcing her to smell her own rank butthole. I unbuttoned my pants and slid them down. My underwear followed suit and I gripped her thin wrists tightly. My erection pressed against her virgin slit and I forced myself inside her. I ripped through her hymen, stretched her pencil thin vaginal canal, and punched into her pre-pubescent cervix. The pain must have risen over the drugs threshold, because as this happened, her eyes focused and her face twisted into a horrific shriek. I imagined her father, seeing his precious snowflake reduced to a squealing set of holes for my men to cum into. “Serves you right mother fucker!” I yell, looking into the camera. “No one fucks with The Omegas!” My men cheered as I continued raping the weeping eleven-year-old.

After several minutes of violent rape, most of my men had pulled their cocks out and were stroking themselves looking into the girl’s agonized face. Blood lubricated her torn cunt and dripped down my balls. As my orgasm approached an even greater ferocity grew inside me. I released her right wrist, her hand immediately covered her face, and I punched her firmly in the side. The wind was knocked out of her. She tried gasping for several seconds, her struggling only intensifying my pleasure. When I heard a wheezing breath, I punched her repeatedly in the stomach and chest. Her body clenched and I began to come.

I filled the cunt’s bleeding hole with jet after jet of my hot seed. She coughed violently. Drops of blood sprayed from her mouth in a cacophonous mixture of coughs, screams, and gasps for air. I released her other hand and proceeded to treat her tiny, taut stomach like a worn out punching bag. Finally, after my orgasm passed, I pulled out of her. “Focus on her face.” I told the camera man as I made my way around the bed. My cock was still rock hard and covered in blood and cum. I took both of the girl’s wrists into my right hand and pulled her hands from her face. Her eyes were clinched and blood smeared her mouth. I reached over her and cupped my left hand over her destroyed hole. Blood and cum filled my palm and I slapped the retched concoction across her pained face. I took a handful of her black hair and cleaned my cock in it.

I was about to zip up, and allow the rabid hounds that were my men to further decimate the child, when a spark of inspiration hit me. As a further act of humiliation, depravation, and intimidation, I aimed my filthy cock at the little girl’s bloody, cum smeared face and began to empty my bladder. She shook her head to avoid the stream and my men laughed.

“Disgusting bitch!” One said with a chortle as my hot piss washed the cum and blood onto the white sheet. I straightened myself, zipped up my pants, and nodded at my men as a silent go ahead to have their fun with the prosecutor’s daughter. With a freshly lit cigarette resting between my lips, I watched as my men laughed, gathering around the tiny child like a pack of hyenas around a dying wildebeest. My largest and strongest man was the first to plunge into the girl. Her body shook for several minutes as his massive member shredded her even further. Another man got carried away and pushed a couple others away just in time to splatter her face with copious amounts of white cum. The large man grunted and with a few quick and short thrusts, came inside her. He breathed heavily any pulled his slimy cock from the eleven-year-old’s ruined cunt.

The next man flipped the girl onto her stomach, slickened his cock in blood and cum, and forced himself into Chloe’s minuscule asshole. A deafening scream filled the room and was met with a comparable volume of hoots and hollers as her anus was torn apart. Another overly eager man stepped to her head and ejaculated onto her back. The cum flowed down and disappeared into her hairline. At this point the camera man had removed the camera from the tripod and filmed the ravaging from several different angles. He got a shot of her screaming face as a man pulled her up by the hair. He got a shot of blood and cum oozing and gurgling from her ass after the third load of cum was deposited. After another man flipped the child on her back, he got a shot of her bulging abdomen as the mammoth dick stretched her insides. The pičce de résistance was a shot of her prolapsed rectum as the last man pulled his bloody fist out of her ass.

The girl was now unconscious. Internal bleeding would have killed her in a matter of a few hours, but such a quiet death was not something I was going to allow. I rose from the bed and pulled the knife back out. “Let’s gut this pig.” I said, crushing a cigarette butt under my boot. “Grab the salts.” I tell no one in particular. The stench of blood and cum got stronger as I approached the girl. I stood before her and stared down at her fragile body. Her cunt resembled a ruptured boil, blood and white cum oozing from the distended hole. Her head turned to her right and streams of blood continued to stain the sheet under her little head.

One of my men walked around to Chloe’s head holding a capsule of smelling salts in his hand. “Hold her legs and arms. The bitch is gonna start fighting.” Four men positioned themselves around the girl, each grabbing a wrist or ankle and stretching her limbs taut. I nodded at the man with the capsule and he snapped it open over her nose. A few seconds passed and Chloe’s eye’s burst open. The child immediately began to scream and tried to break free. My men held her strong.

I looked at the camera to ensure it had an unobstructed view of the doomed child. Her brown, teary eyes shot from face to face before settling on the steel blade in my right hand. I knelt over her and pinched her right nipple. “No! No! Please!” She begged. I would say that her screeching could have woke the dead, but the pile of roasting girl scouts outside the door showed that not to be true. I pulled, stretching the small nipple from her flat chest. The room seemed to disappear around me as I placed the blade against her pale, stretched skin. “Mommy! Daddy! Help me!”

I sliced off her nipple.

My men cheered as I held the piece of flesh before the camera. Chloe’s terrified screams morphed into higher, pain filled shrieks. I did the same with her other nipple, slicing the piece of tissue from her chest like I was trimming a Sunday roast. She had her eyes clinched and continued her futile attempts at escape. I wondered if, at this point, she knew she was going to die, or if she was still holding onto hope of seeing her mommy and daddy again. I didn’t want to tell her. It would be more fun to continue slicing, not just her flesh, but at any hope that the cunt had for survival.

I dropped her nipples on the bed, and contemplated my next move. I watched her chest rise and fall at an unbelievable pace, and hoped the microphone was picking up her terrified wheezing. After wiping the blade clean on the sheet, I placed the tip against her throat. Her shoulders tensed up and she started stuttering. “P…p…p…please!” She begged through clenched teeth.

I eased the blade down her neck and chest, not damaging her flesh. Just above her belly button, I adjusted my grip to that of a pen. I started carving a message into her abdomen. The “C” went quick, and was met with frantic yelps. The “U” garnered a similar response. The three strokes of the “N” summoned pleas to stop and desperate calls for help. By the time I crossed the “T” shock seemed to be setting in. The child became quiet and stared, blinking rapidly, at the ceiling. Blood beaded and dripped from the shallow cuts, and I stepped aside to let the camera scan the girl’s body. The camera stopped on her face and I imagined her father seeing his suffering daughter and ruing the day he fucked with The Omegas.

The camera man stepped away and I went to work carving “SLUT” down her right inner thigh. I allowed the blade to go a bit deeper, drawing a steady stream of blood down to the mattress. She barely reacted when I etched “WHORE” down the pale flesh of her left thigh. I spoke to the camera while staring at the child’s face. “I hope you understand Mr. Showalter. I hope you understand you’re to blame for all this. You where warned time and time again, but you just didn’t listen.” I spoke calmly, my words clear and confident. “Let this be a warning to any dickless motherfucker that thinks he can stop The Omegas.” I turned toward the camera. “Next time this will be your daughter, your wife, your sister, your niece, any slut we can get our hands on. Next time this will be them.”

I turned back to the girl and leaned over her. She didn’t resist when I reached into her mouth and pulled out her tongue. I dug the nails of my index finger and thumb firmly into the flesh and stretched it far passed her lips. With a few quick slices, I cut the muscle from the eleven-year-old’s mouth. She started coughing as blood filled her gaping maw. “Flip her over.” I said to my men, still holding her arms and legs. On her stomach, I ran her severed tongue up the bloody crack of her pussy and ass, before finally jamming it into her shredded bowels. I motioned to the camera man with my head and he moved around the bed and stood above the girls head. The girl made a wet coughing noise as I lifted her head, exposing her slender neck to the camera. I reached my right hand around her neck and place the blade against her smooth, bloody skin.

A jet of blood shot toward the camera, splattering the lens. Her small body shook under me as she took her last gurgling breaths. I held her head as the life drained from her body. When her heart stopped, I turned the knife in my hand and began to saw away with the serrated edge. It made a horrific noise, the steal scraping and chipping away at the bones of her neck. I felt the warmth of her blood flowing over my hands and the metallic smell was evident even over the overwhelming smell of cooking flesh that permeated the cabin. After a minute of sawing, her head was finally free from her body.

I jammed my knife into Chloe’s back and lifted her severed head to the camera. Blood streamed down and splashed on her back. Carrying her head by a fistful of her bloody hair, I turned and walked toward the cabin door. As it swung open, I could feel the intense heat from the fire. I stopped about twenty feet away and turned. My man with the camera followed along with the others. The last to leave the cabin was dragging the headless corpse out by the ankle, leaving a wide streak of blood behind him. Again, I lifted the head to the camera. The mouth hung slack and her tongue stuck out. The bleeding had slowed into a steady trickle. With my eyes focused on the camera, I tossed the head over my shoulder in the smoldering pile of dead, innocent children.

The man dragging the small girl’s body approached and three others stepped up next to him. Each man took a wrist or an ankle and brought the body closer to the fire. I turned toward the fire and stepped away to give the camera man a clear view. The four men started swinging the girl.

“On three.” One of them said.

They chanted in unison. “One. Two. Three.” The men heaved the small corpse like a bale of hay. The flames grew as it landed on the pyre, disturbing a few charred bodies before finally settling. My men and I watched for several minutes as little Chloe Showalter blackened amongst the remains of her Girl Scout troop. It was a tragedy, and a completely avoidable one at that. As the man with the camera walked past me and circled the burning pile of little girls, I hoped the police, D.As, judges, and nosy journalists would learn a lesson and show The Omegas due respect. Another part of me, the part that often disturbed even myself, hoped that if anyone did try to fuck with us that they had such a succulent little girl to use as revenge.

Within twelve hours, the video was edited to obscure our faces. The video was uploaded, through several proxies, to countless places on the internet.