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Martha and Anna had been best friends since high school. Martha was an attractive Latina trans woman, with H-cup breasts and an 11.5-inch cock. Anna was a gorgeous Asian futa, her G-cup breasts complementing a 12.2-inch cock.
They shared everything—a birthday, a deep bond, and a love of fucking little girls. Both were huge pedophiles. Every year, to celebrate their shared birthday, they would indulge their obsession together. Last year, for their 45th, they’d traveled to a Peruvian kiddy whorehouse and spent the night with a set of triplets. It had been exquisite.
This year, as their 46th birthday approached, Anna had been mysterious. “I’ve got a surprise for us,” she’d said, a sly grin on her face. “What is it?” Martha had pressed. “You’ll see. I’m not telling.” “Come on, Anna! Give me a hint.” “Nope. It’s a real surprise. You’ll thank me.”
Now, the day had arrived. They sat in Anna’s car, the city lights blurring past the windows. “So?” Martha finally asked, her excitement barely contained. “What’s the surprise?”
“We’re going to a whorehouse.”
Martha’s face fell, just a fraction. “Oh. That’s it?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Anna chuckled, glancing away from the road. “You haven’t seen it yet.”
“It’s not disappointment,” Martha clarified, shifting in the leather seat. “It’s just… we’ve been to countless whorehouses. How is this a surprise?”
“I can see you’re not impressed,” Anna said, her tone dropping into something more serious, more intense. “But this place is special.”
“Really? How?” Martha’s curiosity was piqued despite herself.
“This is a whorehouse where all the kids are snuffed.” The word hung in the air, cold and heavy. Martha blinked. “Snuffed?”
“Yes. As in, they are killed by the client.”
Martha stared at her friend’s profile. The streetlights cast shifting shadows across Anna’s determined face. “Are you serious?” she asked, her voice low. “This is a fucked-up joke, right?”
“No joke,” Anna said, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “It wasn’t easy finding this place. It’s exclusive. Very discreet.”
Martha studied her—the set of her jaw, the absence of a smirk. She was being utterly serious.
“Anna… I don’t think I can do that.” Martha’s voice was a tense whisper. “I’ve never been into that type of stuff. The… the finality of it.”
“Oh, come on,” Anna coaxed, her tone turning playful again. “How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” A cold suspicion trickled down Martha’s spine. She raised an eyebrow. “Have you? Have you done it before?”
“No,” Anna said, but her eyes glittered with a dark fervor. “But to be honest, it’s been a fantasy of mine for years now.” Martha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Anna had fantasized about this? About killing? She felt a strange mix of revulsion and a sick, curious pull. Seeing her hesitation, Anna added softly, “If you don’t want to snuff them, you don’t have to. You can just fuck them. That’s allowed. The option is yours.” Martha’s body betrayed her then. She was painfully horny. To make this birthday extra special, she’d denied herself an orgasm for over a month. A deep, aching need throbbed within her. The idea of fresh, young flesh was irresistible. She took a shaky breath. “Fine. Let’s go. But I’m not snuffing anyone!”
The whorehouse was an unassuming brick building tucked between a shuttered warehouse and a vacant lot. A single red lamp glowed above a heavy metal door. They stepped into a small, surprisingly elegant lobby. The air smelled of antiseptic and a faint, coppery scent Martha couldn’t place. Behind a polished black front desk sat a blonde 15yo girl . She was reading a magazine. Just as they entered, a door to the side swung open. A busty redheaded woman emerged, her face a mask of serene satisfaction. Streaks of dark, fresh blood were smeared across her cheek and jawline. She walked to the desk, moving with a languid, sated grace. The blonde teen looked up and smiled. The redhead leaned on the desk. “All done?” the teen asked, her voice bright. “Mmhmm,” the redhead purred. “She was perfect. Absolutely perfect.” The blonde teen leaned forward and, with a slow, deliberate swipe of her tongue, licked the blood from the woman’s cheek. The redhead laughed—a low, throaty sound of pleasure—and stroked the teen’s hair. “Good girl. See you next week.” With that, the redhead left, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.
The teen turned her placid smile to them. “Welcome. Do you have a reservation?” Anna stepped forward, her confidence fully restored. “Yes. We do.”
“May I have the code you were given?”
“Yes. A C 7 J 34 G S X 6.” The teen’s fingers danced over a sleek keyboard hidden below the desk. Her smile widened. “Anna and Martha?” They both nodded. “Your room is Room 15. The door is unlocked, but you can lock it from the inside once you enter.” Anna turned to Martha. “Actually, can my friend take Room 15? I’d like a separate room.”
The teen nodded. “Of course. But it will take some time to prepare another room and assign a girl—or girls, depending on your preference.”
“I’ll wait,” Anna said, then looked at Martha, her eyes gleaming. “Go on. Enjoy your girls.” Martha hesitated, her heart pounding. “How many?”
“four,” the teen answered smoothly.
Martha pushed open the heavy door to Room 15. The soft pink light from before was gone, replaced by a colder, clinical white glow from recessed ceiling panels. The circular bed remained, but the room felt less like a boudoir and more like a sterile, private chamber.
On the bed sat four girls.
They were all dressed identically in delicate black lace lingerie that seemed both too old and too small for their slight frames, accentuating their flat, childish chests. They watched her enter with unnervingly calm expressions. One girl had rich brown skin and sleek black hair cut in a sharp bob. Two were pale, their hair a mass of fiery red curls. The fourth was an Asian girl with milky-pale skin and long, straight black hair that fell like a curtain around her shoulders.
“Hi!” the four chirped in unison, their voices bright and cheerful.
Martha froze in the doorway, her earlier anxieties rushing back. They didn’t look scared. They didn’t look anxious. Did they not know? A cold knot tightened in her stomach.
“Are you Anna or Martha?” asked the brown-skinned girl, tilting her head.
“I’m Martha,” she managed, stepping fully inside and letting the door swing shut behind her. “There’s… been a change of plans. It will just be me with you four tonight.”
“Cool,” two of them replied together—the Asian girl and one of the redheads.
The brown-skinned girl smiled, a wide, genuine expression that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “There’s a huge suitcase under the bed with a lot of tools you can use on us.”
“A suitcase?” Martha echoed, her voice faint.
She walked slowly to the bed. The girls watched her, their gazes tracking her every move with placid interest. Kneeling, she peered beneath the bed frame. There it was: a large, hard-shelled aluminum suitcase, sleek and gunmetal grey. She dragged it out. It was heavy. The latches clicked open with a sound that seemed too loud in the quiet room.
Inside, nestled in custom-cut black foam, was an arsenal. Gleaming pistols and a compact shotgun. Sharp, wicked-looking knives of various lengths. A small, polished hammer. A handsaw. Pliers. Coils of thin wire and thicker rope. Vials of clear liquids with no labels.
Martha swallowed hard, the coppery taste of adrenaline sharp on her tongue. She looked up at the four faces regarding her from the bed.
“Um… you girls do know what these are for, right?”
“Yes, silly,” the brown-skinned girl giggled. “To be used on us.”
“You know you’re here to die?” Martha pressed, needing to hear them say it, to make it real.
All four heads nodded in a serene, synchronized motion.
“And you’re… okay with that?”
“Oh, yes!” the same girl exclaimed, her smile turning dreamy. “We’ve been touching ourselves all day just thinking about it! Thinking about dying.” She squirmed slightly on the bed, and Martha noticed a subtle shift under the lace of her panties. The girl continued, “And we’re so happy it would be at the hands of such a sexy woman like yourself. Right, girls?”
The other three smiled and nodded again, a chorus of soft affirmations. “Mhm!” “So happy.” “You’re really pretty.”
Martha’s disbelief shattered, replaced by a wave of dizzying, dark heat. These girls wanted this. They were aroused by it. The last vestige of her hesitation evaporated, burned away by a sudden, all-consuming hunger. Her cock, already semi-hard from anticipation, thickened and strained painfully against her jeans. Vivid images flashed in her mind: the hammer meeting bone, the knife sliding into soft flesh, the wire biting into tender necks. She licked her suddenly dry lips.
“Okay, girls,” Martha said, her voice dropping into a low, husky register she barely recognized. “Prepare to be snuffed.”
The door clicked open.
Anna stood there, looking mildly annoyed. “Apparently they ran out of girls.” She stepped inside, her eyes taking in the scene: Martha kneeling by the open suitcase, the four waiting girls, the charged atmosphere. She closed the door and locked it. “What’s all this?”
“Anna…” Martha stood up, turning to face her friend. The dark heat was in her eyes now, a fierce, hungry light. “I want to try it. The snuff thing.”
Anna’s face transformed. A wide, ecstatic smile spread across her lips, reaching her eyes. “You do?”
Martha nodded, stepping forward. She cupped Anna’s face and pulled her into a deep kiss. It was not just affection; it was a pact sealed in saliva and shared depravity. Anna moaned into her mouth, hands gripping Martha’s hips.
As they kissed, a soft, wet sound made them break apart and look at the bed. The four girls were mirroring them, but in a tangled quartet. They were kissing each other deeply—mouths open, tongues sliding, small hands roaming over lace-clad bodies. The brown-skinned girl was kissing one redhead, while the Asian girl and the other redhead were locked together.
“Two big-titty sexy women!” one of the redheads gasped when they finally parted, her face flushed. “We are so lucky!”
Anna chuckled darkly and walked over, delivering a sharp, stinging slap to the speaking girl’s lace-covered bottom. The girl yelped, then giggled. “By the way,” Anna said, her hand lingering on the redhead’s backside, “tell my friend here how old you four are.”
The Asian girl answered, a sly smirk on her face. “Well… some of us are eight, and some of us are nine.”
A low groan escaped Martha’s throat. “Perfect ages…”
“Okay,” Anna said, clapping her hands together once, businesslike. “Which of you four wants to be used first?”
“I do!” all four voices shouted in eager unison.
Anna laughed, a rich, full sound. She turned to Martha. “Well? Who do you think we should start with."
Martha’s gaze traveled over the quartet. Her eyes landed on the Asian girl. She was watching them with dark, liquid eyes, her breath coming a little faster. Then Martha’s eyes dropped lower. There was a distinct, tiny tenting in the front of the girl’s black lace panties.
“How about this one,” Martha said, pointing.
“I don’t mind!” Anna grinned.
They descended on the girl. Martha grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss, tasting lip gloss and youth, while Anna’s mouth found the girl’s neck, sucking a dark mark onto the pale skin. The Asian girl mewled, her small hands fluttering against Martha’s back.
“Let’s see what you’ve got here,” Anna murmured, hooking her fingers into the waistband of the girl’s panties and pulling them down.
The girl’s tiny cock was fully erect, smooth and hairless. A pearl of clear precum glistened at the tip.
“Adorable,” Martha breathed. Without another word, she took the entire little length into her mouth in one smooth motion. The girl cried out, her small hips bucking. Martha sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks, her tongue swirling around the shaft.
Anna nudged her shoulder. “My turn.” Martha released the girl with a soft pop, and Anna engulfed her. Anna was less gentle, bobbing her head aggressively, deep-throating the minuscule member with a fervor that made the girl scream. The little body tensed, shuddered, and with a high-pitched whine, the girl came in Anna’s mouth. Anna swallowed deliberately, licking her lips as she pulled back.
“Sweet,” she commented.
Anna then turned the girl around, positioning her on her hands and knees. She spat on her fingers, slicked her own massive 12.2-inch cock, and without further ceremony, pressed into the girl’s tight, small asshole.
“Fuck!” Anna gasped, her head falling back. “This asshole feels amazing! So tight.”
“Let me try!” Martha demanded, her own cock aching.
Anna pulled out, glistening wet. Martha positioned herself behind the girl, whose breath was coming in ragged sobs of pain and overwhelmed pleasure. Martha pushed in. The heat and constricting pressure were unbelievable. She set a brutal pace from the start, pounding into the tiny body, making the girl’s entire frame shake with each thrust.
“Turn her over,” Anna instructed, her voice thick with lust.
Martha did, flipping the girl onto her back on the edge of the bed. Martha leaned over her, continuing to drive into her ass, the girl’s legs hooked over Martha’s shoulders.
That’s when Anna moved. She climbed onto the bed behind the girl’s head. Her hands, strong and sure, wrapped around the girl’s slender throat.
“What the fuck, Anna?” Martha panted, not stopping her rhythm. “Are you trying to kill her?”
Anna laughed, a wild, unhinged sound. Her thumbs pressed into the girl’s windpipe.
Martha’s eyes widened, then a matching, manic grin split her face. “Oh, that’s right… you are!”
They both laughed together, the sound echoing cruelly in the room. Anna squeezed. The Asian girl’s eyes bulged. She tried to gasp, but no air came. Her small hands flew up to claw at Anna’s wrists, but the strength was already leaving her. Her body began to convulse around Martha’s cock, the involuntary clenching pushing Martha to the edge. The girl’s face darkened from pink to purple. A final, silent shudder ran through her, and then she went utterly limp, her eyes staring glassily at the ceiling lights.
Martha came with a guttural shout, pumping her release deep into the dead girl. She collapsed forward for a moment, catching her breath on the now-still chest.
Anna released the bruised neck and slid off the bed. “How does necro ass feel?”
Martha pulled out slowly. “Not bad,” she said, examining the lifeless form with a detached curiosity. “Warm. Looser.”
“Let me try.” Anna pushed Martha aside and re-entered the dead girl, fucking the cooling corpse with slow, deep strokes, a look of profound concentration on her face.
As Anna finished, the remaining three girls watched with rapt attention. The brown-skinned girl was biting her lip, her own small erection visibly straining against her lace panties.
“You’re next,” Martha said to her, pointing a sticky finger.
The girl scrambled off the bed eagerly. “Can I… can I taste you first?” she asked, looking up at Martha’s massive cock with undisguised longing.
Martha glanced at Anna, who shrugged with a smirk. “Why not? A last meal.”
Martha stood before the girl. The brown-skinned child didn’t hesitate. She knelt, her small hands grasping the base of Martha’s thick shaft. She opened her mouth wide—impossibly wide for such a small face—and took the head in. With surprising determination, she began to work more of the enormous cock into her mouth, her jaw stretching obscenely. She couldn’t take it all, but she managed a good five inches, gagging rhythmically as she bobbed her head.
“Fuck, she’s trying to deep-throat it,” Anna muttered, watching intently as she idly stroked herself.
The girl pulled off, gasping, saliva stringing from her lips to Martha’s glistening crown. “Now me?” she asked breathlessly.
“Your wish is our command,” Anna said. She picked the girl up and laid her on the bed beside the first body. “You have a cute little dick too, huh?” Anna pulled her panties down and gave the small penis a few rough tugs.
“We should use something from the suitcase,” Martha suggested, the creative spark ignited. She walked back to the case and selected a coil of thin, strong piano wire and a pair of pliers.
Anna understood immediately. “Oh, I like that.”
They had the girl stand on a sturdy chair. Anna looped the wire around the base of the girl’s tiny cock and balls, pulling it cruelly tight. The girl whimpered in a mix of pain and excitement.
“Hold this,” Anna said to Martha, who kept tension on the wire. Anna took the pliers. With clinical precision, she clamped them onto the tip of the girl’s little penis.
“When you come, you die. Okay?” Anna said softly.
The girl nodded frantically, tears of anticipation in her eyes.
Martha began to fuck her then, taking her from behind while she stood on the chair. Each thrust jolted her small body forward against the wire’s restraint. Anna, standing in front, worked the pliers, twisting and pulling gently on the sensitive flesh.
The stimulation was too much, too intense. The girl’s breathing hitched. “I’m… I’m gonna…” she squealed.
As her body tensed for orgasm, Anna gave the pliers one sharp, brutal yank.
The girl screamed—a short, sharp sound that was cut off as Martha, following an instinct she didn’t know she had, gave the piano wire around the girl’s genitals a tremendous pull with the pliers.
There was a wet, tearing sound. The girl’s orgasm coincided with an explosive burst of blood from between her legs as her genitals were severed cleanly. She went rigid on Martha’s cock for a second, a look of transcendent shock on her face, before collapsing lifelessly to the floor. Martha stared at the bloody wire and the small, detached flesh in the pliers’ grip.
Only two girls remained now: the two redheads. One looked at the other with a knowing smile.
The one with a visible bulge in her panties stepped forward. She had freckles dusted across her nose. “My turn,” she stated boldly.
“Brave girl,” Anna purred. “How do you want it?”
The redhead thought for a moment. “I want to suck you both off. At the same time. And then… I want you to use that.” She pointed to the handsaw in the suitcase.
Martha and Anna exchanged a glance. They positioned themselves side-by-side on the edge of the bed. The redhead knelt between them. She took Anna’s massive cock in one hand and Martha’s in the other, weighing their impressive heft. Then she began an ambitious, alternating blowjob. She would take as much of Anna as she could manage, gagging and drooling, then turn and service Martha with the same desperate enthusiasm. She couldn’t deep-throat either completely, but she tried valiantly, her nose pressed into pubic hair, her throat working convulsively.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” Anna groaned, tangling her hands in the girl’s red curls and guiding her rhythm.
After several minutes of this dizzying attention, both women were on edge. “Enough,” Martha finally gasped. “The saw.”
They laid the panting, red-faced girl on her back on the floor. Anna retrieved the saw—its teeth fine and sharp.
“Start at my genitals,” the girl instructed calmly. “Go up.”
Anna placed the saw’s teeth against the girl’s lower abdomen, just above her small penis. Martha held the girl’s shoulders down.
Anna began to saw. The sound was grotesque—a gritty, grinding rasp. The girl screamed, but it was a scream of euphoria, her back arching off the floor. Blood welled up instantly around the blade. Anna worked with grim determination, sawing through skin, fat, and muscle, working her way up towards the sternum. The girl’s screams turned to wet gurgles as the cavity opened, but her eyes were wide with ecstasy until they finally glazed over halfway through the process. Anna finished the cut up to the neck, leaving the small body gruesomely splayed open.
The final girl, the one with only a vagina, had been quietly pleasuring herself throughout the last death, her fingers working furiously under her lace panties. She was panting.
“You’ve been patient,” Martha said, feeling a strange exhaustion mixed with unspent lust.
“I saved the best for last,” the girl whispered. “I want… I want to be full of you when I go.” She looked at the shotgun in the suitcase.
Anna nodded slowly. She loaded a single shell into the compact shotgun. The girl lay on the bed, spreading her small legs. Martha positioned herself between them and pushed into her virgin cunt. It was the tightest yet, and Martha moaned.
As Martha fucked her with deep, steady strokes, Anna placed the muzzle of the shotgun against the girl’s forehead. “Ready?” Anna asked. The girl nodded, her eyes locked on Martha’s face. “Make me come,” she begged. Martha increased her pace, pounding into the small body. The girl’s breath came in frantic hitches. “Now…!” the girl cried out. As her body clenched around Martha in a final, violent orgasm, Anna pulled the trigger. The report was deafening in the enclosed room. Martha felt the girl’s last convulsions around her cock as brains and blood misted the air and splattered across her chest and face. She came again, violently, into the ruin of the girl’s skull.
Silence descended, broken only by their ragged breathing. The room was a charnel house. Four small bodies lay in various states of gruesome disassembly. The air was thick with the smells of blood, sex, and gunpowder.
Martha slowly pulled out of the last girl and collapsed onto the clean part of the floor, her body trembling with spent adrenaline and exertion. Anna sat beside her, equally drenched in gore. She lit two cigarettes and handed one to Martha.
They smoked in silence for a few minutes, staring at their handiwork. Finally, Anna spoke. “So?” Martha took a long drag and exhaled slowly.
“It was… intense.” She looked at her friend. “I liked it. The power. The… finality of it all.”
“I knew you would,” Anna said smugly. “But…” Martha continued, gazing at the small, severed flesh by the chair. “I don’t think I’ll do it again.”
Anna raised an eyebrow.
“Once was enough,” Martha clarified softly. “It was perfect for our birthday. But… I think I’ll stick to just fucking them from now on.”
Anna nodded slowly, understanding. She took Martha’s hand, their fingers slick with blood. “Fair enough.” She looked around the room again, a deep satisfaction settling on her features. “Me… I think I might need this again. Maybe once or twice a year. As a treat.”
They finished their cigarettes in comfortable silence. After a while, they cleaned themselves up as best they could using towels from a discreet ensuite bathroom they hadn’t noticed before. They dressed in silence. Then they walked out of Room 15, leaving the silence and the carnage behind them, stepping back into the sterile lobby where the blonde teen at the desk simply smiled and waved goodbye.
