Julia screamed in agony as the barrel of the snub-nosed pistol was pressed into her ass. The sight dragged and tore along the skin of her tight sphincter, her tender flesh resisting it until it slipped inside. She stopped yelling for a moment as the pain ebbed. Then, as if he missed her pain, her tormenter started fucking her with the gun, shoving it deeper and deeper, twisting it about. The metal scraped along her insides and caused her to wail some more. If not for her screams, she would have heard his panting increase as his heart raced. Julia didn’t know him, nor would she ever get the chance to know him. He’d been watching her for months, waiting for this moment.

It had started completely by accident. He had long been addicted to porn, the dark shit, the violent and abusive stuff. Only real videos of amateurs, messed up and broken women who needed the pain to live. It drove him wild to fantasize to be the one to take them over the edge, to make their dreams a reality. They were just disposable cunts, not real women. Real women respected themselves, didn’t get wet when hit, and didn’t talk about the most fucked up things with strangers online. They were trash and the world was better off without them. He followed dozens of them online, on multiple sites, and enjoyed paying them to debase themselves. To roleplay their deaths. To watch them cum from his verbal abuse. It was glorious. He had never expected to have an opportunity though. He never expected to run into Julia.

Julia sobbed into the pillow as the stranger abused her ass. His free hand held her by the back of her neck and kept her in place. He didn’t speak or say anything. That scared her even more than the sexual abuse. She cried some more as he started laughing. She felt his grip on the gun go away, leaving it hanging in her ass, as his finger slid down and rubbed her pussy. She knew why he was laughing before he smeared her juices along her lips. She meekly took his finger in her mouth when he pushed it in, sucking on it. It was then she started to realize that he likely wasn’t some random nutjob. He was probably one of “them”. Her fanbase. The one’s that ate up her stories and paid her to voice her most degrading stories. The ones that paid to watch her talk about things and acts she would never do. It had started only for the money originally, just a little cash and a secret little thrill. Then someone had paid her a lot of money for a story about acts with very young girls. They started sending her pictures and videos, and soon she was writing and narrating stories about them. Or about her, a younger version of her. Rape stories, violent stories, incest, and worse. Stories that never had happy endings. She knew, deep down, he was one of “them”.

When he had run into Julia at the grocery store, she hadn’t recognized him. He’d only paid for her work once but had loved every minute of it. He’d had a beard then, but now he was clean-shaven. He doubted she would have recognized him either way. How many men had the cunt entertained? How many sick stories had she written and cum to? He knew her though. He had never expected to meet her, just shopping and acting as if she was a real human being and not a wounded animal. On that day, he forgot about food and had trailed her. Followed her to her home. He had driven by and started tracking every movement in her life. What days she was home, what days she was gone, and where her husband worked. He placed wireless microphones around her windows in the dark of night. He learned things that didn’t surprise him. She lied about much of her life. Her husband didn’t know what she did online. He doubted anyone knew of her perversions except her fans online. But he would make sure everyone would know. He downloaded all her work and compiled it, all on one USB in a gift box just for her husband. It would help him with any grief, knowing that he hadn’t lost a wife. Just a broken, ruined cunt.