Read Online Crossing the Line by Jordan Bobe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jordan Bobe
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coursing through every inch of his body he was not prepared for the atrocity that came next. Brute stuffed the entirety of his shredded sex into his broken mouth. A huge hand clamped over his shredded lips so he could not spit the flesh back out.
He thrashed wildly as he felt the meat sliding down his throat. His blood provided lubrication and without his teeth to cinch hold on his penis it pushed past his uvula and lodged in the back of his esophagus. A sensation akin to that he had felt while being held under the water filled his chest. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes as he choked.
He thrashed as best as he could, the realization that he was being choked to death with his own cock was somehow worse than anything else he could imagine. Brute held his hand tightly over the dying man’s mouth. The visible part of his face didn’t so much as twitch.
At least the sick fuck isn’t smiling , Fritz thought.
Brute moved his hand after a moment and panic filled Fritz. He wondered what else the sick psycho had planned for him. He hoped that he would strangle to death before he found out.
Brute flipped the bowie knife around so that the tip of the sharp blade was aimed down at Fritz’s face. He plunged it forward, the thick blade slicing straight through Fritz’s bottom jaw. The bone split in two. The razor sharp weapon split his tongue in half in the same motion.
Brute set the knife aside and plunged his fingers into the gash that he had made. He used both hands to pry the lower jaw apart. Fritz’s chin split so that he could feel it touching the bottom of both of his ear lobes.
Blood rushed past the clog of his manhood and filled his lungs. The knot in his chest grew tighter. The world finally began fading away completely. But before he could die he realized the murderer’s final move.
Brute shoved his fist into the wad of flesh clogging Fritz’s throat and drove it down. It stopped just above his clavicle, leaving a visible lump in his neck. Only a few more seconds passed before Fritz finally died.
As he passed away he wondered why the big man had come for him.
Brute wiped the blood from his blade on Fritz’s clothes before stepping off of the raft. He vanished into the lake.
11
No one in the house paid attention to the sounds of Fritz’s death. The tension in the living room was so volatile that it almost seemed to be a living thing. Clint was sitting on the sofa with a chilled bottle of beer pressed to the enormous knot on his temple. The eye closest to the injury was filled with blood from a ruptured blood vessel behind it. The blow he had taken to the head had come dangerously close to killing him.
The girls were sitting in a circle in the center of the room. They had all been stripped down and their undergarments were being used to bind their wrists. Their pants had been torn into strips and wrapped around their forearms to reinforce the bras and panties.
Marty and Quentin were each working on their fourth drinks. Marty had skipped beer and went straight to whiskey. Quentin had been mixing beer with six ounce glasses of tequila. Stan had snorted nearly an eighth of coke as well as drinking most of a bottle of wine.
Now that intoxication had taken hold of the three of them they seemed much more agreeable. Thad was glad that none of the others had gone the way of Justin. He should have known better than to bring Justin. The kid had to be convinced just to smoke weed. He had a big heart and often chided Thad for being too “mean” to his customers. Still, Thad had hoped that the man’s immense size would have scared everyone into submission.
Thad had covered the big man’s corpse with a faux bear skin rug. Even as he hid the body from view he smirked as his mind popped off with a tasteless joke. He had voiced it, “Guess Justin had more brains than I thought.” No one else had laughed.
Now he sat staring at Anna. He admired her breasts. Her nipples were erect and bright pink. They
He thrashed wildly as he felt the meat sliding down his throat. His blood provided lubrication and without his teeth to cinch hold on his penis it pushed past his uvula and lodged in the back of his esophagus. A sensation akin to that he had felt while being held under the water filled his chest. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes as he choked.
He thrashed as best as he could, the realization that he was being choked to death with his own cock was somehow worse than anything else he could imagine. Brute held his hand tightly over the dying man’s mouth. The visible part of his face didn’t so much as twitch.
At least the sick fuck isn’t smiling , Fritz thought.
Brute moved his hand after a moment and panic filled Fritz. He wondered what else the sick psycho had planned for him. He hoped that he would strangle to death before he found out.
Brute flipped the bowie knife around so that the tip of the sharp blade was aimed down at Fritz’s face. He plunged it forward, the thick blade slicing straight through Fritz’s bottom jaw. The bone split in two. The razor sharp weapon split his tongue in half in the same motion.
Brute set the knife aside and plunged his fingers into the gash that he had made. He used both hands to pry the lower jaw apart. Fritz’s chin split so that he could feel it touching the bottom of both of his ear lobes.
Blood rushed past the clog of his manhood and filled his lungs. The knot in his chest grew tighter. The world finally began fading away completely. But before he could die he realized the murderer’s final move.
Brute shoved his fist into the wad of flesh clogging Fritz’s throat and drove it down. It stopped just above his clavicle, leaving a visible lump in his neck. Only a few more seconds passed before Fritz finally died.
As he passed away he wondered why the big man had come for him.
Brute wiped the blood from his blade on Fritz’s clothes before stepping off of the raft. He vanished into the lake.
11
No one in the house paid attention to the sounds of Fritz’s death. The tension in the living room was so volatile that it almost seemed to be a living thing. Clint was sitting on the sofa with a chilled bottle of beer pressed to the enormous knot on his temple. The eye closest to the injury was filled with blood from a ruptured blood vessel behind it. The blow he had taken to the head had come dangerously close to killing him.
The girls were sitting in a circle in the center of the room. They had all been stripped down and their undergarments were being used to bind their wrists. Their pants had been torn into strips and wrapped around their forearms to reinforce the bras and panties.
Marty and Quentin were each working on their fourth drinks. Marty had skipped beer and went straight to whiskey. Quentin had been mixing beer with six ounce glasses of tequila. Stan had snorted nearly an eighth of coke as well as drinking most of a bottle of wine.
Now that intoxication had taken hold of the three of them they seemed much more agreeable. Thad was glad that none of the others had gone the way of Justin. He should have known better than to bring Justin. The kid had to be convinced just to smoke weed. He had a big heart and often chided Thad for being too “mean” to his customers. Still, Thad had hoped that the man’s immense size would have scared everyone into submission.
Thad had covered the big man’s corpse with a faux bear skin rug. Even as he hid the body from view he smirked as his mind popped off with a tasteless joke. He had voiced it, “Guess Justin had more brains than I thought.” No one else had laughed.
Now he sat staring at Anna. He admired her breasts. Her nipples were erect and bright pink. They
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