Viva Las Violence

In the beginning, before her point of no return was passed, Janet’s life had already begun laying the ground work for an appallingly and tragically diseased individual. Her parents were brother and sister, neither of which were particularly stable to begin with.

In fact, Janet had been conceived when her father had drunkenly raped and beaten her mother, who had later tried to induce a miscarriage to spite her husband. 

That she was born with deep mental defects should then come as no surprise. Janet was by no means slow or simple; in fact her intelligence far outstripped that of most of her immediate relatives. There was nothing of a sociopath in her either for she does still, even after all of the horror worked by her hands, have a conscience. However she was born with a deeply disturbed mind.

Were her childhood a normal or good thing she may even have turned out to be nothing more than an exceedingly morbid artist, but this young skunk was not so blessed. Her parents were shunned and despised by their family, and neither was much inclined to honest or hard work. They lived in a cramped apartment in a truly foul stretch of urban landscape, where two adults and as many as nine children at a time lived.

Neither parent was filled with any identifiable love for their offspring, both treated the children as something slave labor, and lavished physical, emotional and sexual abuse on them all. Both had forced Janet to perform oral sex on them since she was old enough to know the horror of it, seemingly for the pure sadism of it, and her virginity was ripped to shreds at age nine by her father and older brother, while her mother held her down and laughed.

We enter into her life at age thirteen. She has been ostracized at school do to the associated reputation of her sisters and the well known cruelty of her parents. Her family no longer even maintains the apartment, living in a single cramped trailer on the outskirts of cheapest and darkest of trailer parks. She feels well and truly alone, and in many ways she is.

It is a bright spring Saturday and one of the rare few that she has the luxury of solitude. The three of her sisters still young enough to live at home are at the movies, her mother is working Saturdays turning tricks at a poorly disguised whorehouse, and her father is doing what he does every Saturday, getting drunk and doing unpleasant things with a few friends of his.

She lies on the cot she sleeps upon with a dog-eared copy of “the Shining” that she managed to pilfer from a used bookstore, since she can barely hold onto money in her home. For her the day is perfect, an old Megadeth tape dug out of a garage sale blares in the back ground while she breezes through a good book. The one thing that shatters the perfection is the fact that goddamn motherfucking dog of her neighbors own will not shut the fuck up.

For a time she tried ignoring the dog by distracting herself with things she enjoys, the curves and feel of her body as she lounges In a sport bra and panties, it being too hot to be fully clothed when you’re covered with fur and the AC is non functional. She moved her body and banged her head to the bass line of “Peace Sells” and sang along while living a youthful rock star fantasy in her head, day dreamed about running away and living a life without constant assault and hate, and in a small black part of her mind she dreamed of opening up a vein and escaping that way.

Try as she might however her perfect day remained just out of reach as the fucking dog would not shut up. Not once. She marveled at how the animal could just keep going like that with no stopping, it must have been barking for hours now.

At first it had been simple background radiation that broke her conversation occasionally, but it had slowly niggled it’s way to the front of her brain, and it seemed to pulse with physical sensation, and she imagined vaguely that was what a brain tumor would feel like.

Frustration broke, she opened the door to her trailer and bellowed “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” at the dog, and even as the words left her throat she realized hers was the first sapient voice to be heard in the whole yard. Not odd all things considering. Most people had been paid recently or at least collected their unemployment checks and so would be out trying to buy as much alcohol as they could.

Gritting her teeth Janet walked back inside and pulled on a pair of battered hiking boots before storming angrily out of the door and into the blistering sunlight of an unusually bright and hot spring Saturday. Her fur had fluffed out some to try to allow more wind in to cool her and she clenched her teeth as rage began to fill her once more.

Most of her life she had been filled with fear of everything. For some reason this had changed in recent months.

Maybe it was the constant whispered gossip in the halls of her school that had begun to prick her pride, maybe it was her developing hormones, or maybe it was something that had been there all along, lurking in some unplumbed pit of her soul. Whatever it was now she was filled with a deep red rage.

How dare this fucking dog ruin her day?! How dare the idiotic fuckskulls who owned it just keep it chained up outside all day and not even make an effort to control it?! Wasn’t her life miserable enough without stealing one of the few bright spots she had left?

Across the dusty street she could see dog, it was chained to a rusting engine block and was straining against it’s chain at her. Now it was barking more intently, as if to say “how dare you tell me to shut up you stupid anthrop cunt?!”

She strode confidently across the street, her hips swaying in an unconsciously sensual manner, her long tail bobbing ever so slightly. She climbed the cinderblock and plywood staircase by up the trailer’s door and gave it a mean kick. The thump would have woken the dead.

“HEY!” she yelled into the door “shut your fucking dog up!” No answer. She banged and yelled more before turning away in disgust, as she did she something just to the side of the makeshift steps caught her eye.

For his part, the dog, a big black mean mutt named Timber was straining at his chain trying to work it loose so he could pursue one of the many distractions in his life. The first had been the contents of his owners overflowing trash cans on the far side of the trailer, there was the drip pan of antifreeze that had been left out under a nearby car and the dead cat that had been drinking from it. The most recent one however was the shouting female from across the street. He wasn’t sure about it but he thought in his tiny animal way that he would like to kill her. Or mount her. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d mounted one of the females from across the street, not the one in front o him, but one that had smelled similar.

She seemed distracted to Timber and she was bent over, her rump on a nice inviting display through her dull grey panties. She stood up suddenly with something Timber couldn’t quite make out in her hands.

Janet could damn near feel the dog’s breath on her ass as she had bent over to pick up the baseball bat that had been carelessly left by the steps. She hefted it in her hands and considered it’s weight and remembered playing softball during pe in middle school. She had actually been fairly good at it, but her parents would never even consider any kind of extracurricular activities when they’d rather have her home where she could be put to good use.

More anger, red and thick crept over her and an idea sprung to mind.

She would just give the dog a little “love tap” with the bat, enough to make it shut up, but not enough to actually hurt the stupid animal.

She turned around just as the animal’s chain broke and it lunged forward.

As Timber leapt towards his intended victim/romantic conquest adrenaline slammed it’s way into Janet’s bloodstream and in an instant her nerves were sent into overdrive and her muscles burned to be used. She could trace Timber’s movement through the air and could see the extended doggie dick poking it’s way out of it’s sheath. She could see the drops of drool falling from the animal’s mouth as it cleared the engine block that it had been chained to.

Timber’s head was just within the same sweet spot a baseball inhabits when she slammed the baseball bat into the side of the dog’s head with every ounce of strength in her body. The dog was slammed directly to the side and into the trailer’s door with such force that he smashed right through the flimsy thing and slammed into the back wall of the trailer, knocking down a piece of tacky two dollar art and a crucifix before bouncing off the wall and directly onto a cheap glass coffee table.

Janet’s blood pulsed as he felt the impact race up her arm and her bladder let go. Her rage and hate surged up into her throat with same type of undeniable force that comes with the urge to vomit, and a shriek unlike any she had ever unleashed before erupted from her throat. 

Not even pausing for a moment she turned and entered the empty trailer and looked at the dog staggering to it’s feet in the ruins of the smashed coffe table. The part of Timber’s face that had taken the impact seemed to be only a loose sack of mushy flesh and fur and blood and teeth dropped out of his gaping mouth. One of his eyes had slipped out and was hanging comically by the retina on the side of his face he let out a high pitched whine and tried to stager away from her as a bloody streamer dripped out of his ear and his eye socket began to leak blood onto the floor.

A savage grin spread across her face and Janet began panting hoarsely as she looked at the animal cowering at her feet, it’s tail tucked between it’s leg, while her own bushed out as she had a thousand volts going through her lithe body. She felt full of raw energy as she raised the bat above her head and she felt sexy as she brought it down with enough force to split rocks. 

Timber let out a yelp as Janet soaked her panties. Blood sprayed out and her nipples hardened as it splattered her. Dear God she wanted to fuck right now. Anyone, anything, she felt like the sexiest thing on the goddamn planet. She felt like fucking God.

She brought the bat down again and again, each time feeling a hot, wet pulse in her genitals. She could feel her juices running down her legs as the dogs skull caved in and she smashed through brain.

That did not stop her. She lifted the bat up again, trailing brain and blood and chunks of viscera with it and brought it down again. And again. And again.

Dog blood sprayed the trailer and splattered her and she fucking loved it. Teeth and fragments of bone, where scattered in with the gore that had spread through the trailer. Janet finally stopped pounding the dog’s head into the floor (since it no longer really had a head to speak of) and brought the gore streaked bat up to her face. She closed her and licked it’s side. She tasted blood and chucks of brain and she dropped the bat a began licking the blood and chunks of gore off of her hands greedily swallowing down the viscous remains.

Janet knelt down by the dog’s carcass like a worshiper at an alter and slid a still gory hand into her panties till she found the silken bud of her cliterous, and then she began to rub herself furiously..

She bent over and bit deep into the meat of the dog’s stomach and relished it as her sharp teeth pierced the skin and blood pooled in her mouth. She ran her tongue over the dead flesh and fur, gathering up the blood that was dripping out, and then she bit down and tore out a great chunk of skin and meat from the dog’s gut.

She reared back and pulled the chunk into her mouth, then she slowly chewed and savored the flavor before diving back into gnaw her way into the dog’s guts, and all the while she fingered herself with the speed and fury of a runaway train. Orgasms washed over her like glorious waves of pleasure as she tore deeper and deeper into the dog’s innards.

She pulled herself away from her frenzied masturbation and used both hand to tear open the dog’s abdominal cavity as much as she could. She looked breathlessly down at the spilling steaming guts as a new bride would upon her husband’s naked body. Then she plunged both hands into the mess of blood and organs ripping them out and tossing them aside as she hunted for the dog’s heart. As she did, she unconsciously raised the liver to her mouth and tore off a chunk of it, chewed and swallowed and then tossed it aside before resuming her search with both hands.

Finally she found the heart and pulled it out with a look of profound triumph on her face. She was gushing again. He slid the organ around her body, rubbing it against her erogenous zones, sliding it along her slit and breast before bringing the organ to her face. She leaned forward and kissed it, Tasting the blood and pussy juice and savoring them both like wine.

She bit into the organ and slowly chewed, as it seemed wrong to rush. Then she swallowed and bit further in. She repeated the processes until she had eaten the whole of the heart.

She knelt there, placidly for a moment or two, before rational thought returned to her mind. 

And as it did horror she began to shake with the horror of it all.

Janet bent over and began to vomit.

As she was doubled over Timber’s corpse, vomiting until there was nothing left at all in her, and few thoughts went through her mind. Excuses to explain this horror to anyone who confronted her, Timber had after all attacked her and she had panicked and been caught up in the moment. Plans to hide the body and dispose of the weapon . The burning need to shower. The constant repetition of the phrase “dear God what did I just do?!”

Behind all this in the back of her mind, unacknowledged for it’s implications, was the perfect, crystal recollection of the whole event. The simple grinning, horrible fact of it all was she had liked it. She had loved it. She wanted to do it again.

End Part 1.

 

I hope you've enjoyed this horrible little thing. I certainly enjoyed writing it. This my very first story, so any kind of comments or criticism is welcome.