Chapter 98 - The German Pornographer Tells All part 3

"We shot for three hours straight. Hans is a real animal. I've seen him go for six hours straight, hard as a rail and not one Viagra, but that night, only three. He gets too turned on when they struggle. Especially if they're small and they scream when he puts it in.

"When he climbed onto the bed with her, he dropped the gentle expression from his face like the mask that it was. Poor kid didn't know what hit her.

"Once she caught a look at the python he was packing in his jockey shorts, she tried to beg off, but it was too late for any of that. Her boyfriend was a stiff little keck in my tub and there were no other tenants in the building to hear her cry for help.

"Hans quit playing nice and got down to business. She was willing enough to blow him for a little while, but when he tried to put it in, she started to cry and tried to squirm away from him. She kept crying, 'It's too big! Please! Stop!' Hans finally got tired of wrestling with her. He slapped her hard enough to bloody her nose, then yanked her round little ass in the air and shoved it in to the hilt. Little country bumpkin, she howled like someone lit her futz on fire. He slapped her around some more. Choked her. He took her every way you can imagine, and we got it all on film. When he was finished with her, the chick's face was so purple and swollen her mama wouldn't have recognized her. Hans pumped what looked like a quart of squazzo in her bloody, broken mouth, and then Maurice and I had a go at her.

"You ever have sloppy seconds?" Lukas asked, smiling in a particularly repulsive manner. He licked his lips. "That futz was tenderized! I know most men joke about sloppy seconds, but I find the experience very pleasant. It's softer on the inside. Nice and puffy."

I pretended I did not notice his erection pressing against the zipper of his trousers.

"We bound her with zip ties when we were done with her," he went on. "Taped her mouth real good. We had to get rid of her boyfriend's body. We pulled the shower curtain down and wrapped him up in it, me and Maurice. It's not easy moving a dead body. It's kind of like trying to pick up a sleeping cat. All limp and floppy. It just kind of rolls out of your arms if you're not careful.

"You should have seen the look on her face when we carried him out of the toilet, though, wrapped up in the shower curtain. She knew she was dead too. You could see it in her eyes. The realization. It turned me on so much I told Maurice to hold on and then I walked over to her and rolled her on her side and fucked her again. Just a quickie, but I had to get off. It was just too much of a fucking rush, seeing that look in her eyes.

"'I'm gonna fucking kill you, slut,' I told her as I fucked her. 'You know that, don't you? I'm gonna use you until I've used you all up, and then I'm gonna kill you, just like I killed your fucking boyfriend.' I had her mouth taped up so she couldn't scream, but I could see her face. I could see the tears running down her cheeks, and I blew another load in her swollen little snatch while I watched her cry. Her bleeding little reamed out snatch…"

I watched the German's face as he recounted the incident, the flush of arousal in his cheeks, the sheen of perspiration on his brow and upper lip. My hunger leapt inside me and I had to hold myself immobile, lest I seize him and drain him right that instant. I have preyed on the wicked for millennia. The sight of such unrepentant evil stirs my hunger to unbearable heights.

No! I told myself. Not yet! There is still much you desire from this fiend! I wanted his life. His whole life. I wanted to hear him recount his evils. His confessions were like seasoning. They would make my meal, when I surrendered to my appetite, all the more delicious.

I restrained myself, but barely, and speaking in a husky rasp myself, I urged him on.

"So what did you do with the boy?" I asked.

He blinked. Looked at me as if he'd forgotten I was sitting there listening. "The jono? Oh… we, uh… took him to the pier. No one ever goes down to those wharves anymore. We drove down there with the kid in my trunk. Took him out and tossed him in the Meuse. We, uh… pulled some of his teeth and cut off his hands first, so it would be difficult to identify the body. On our way back to my flat, we took a little detour through the ghetto and threw his hands and teeth down a storm drain. Let the rats have them."

"And the girl? How long did you keep her?"

"About a week."