Finding My Sister's Killer: Part One, My Sister's Death
by A duck named TEF
Copyright© 2026 by A duck named TEF
Horror Sex Story: A woman fed up with life finds a stranger willing to help her end it all.
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Horror Snuff Torture Cannibalism .
“Let me tell you the story of my death. It started when I met a stranger at a bar...”
“I had it all. A house, a marriage, two kids, the hottest housewife blog around, a grandkid along the way. I had it all. Then, I lost it all.”
I took a drink from the glass of whisky I’ve been nursing for the last half-hour. This bar is empty besides the bartender, myself, and the stranger sitting next to me.
“When I first learned of my pregnancy, both my boyfriend and I were scared shitless. He was on a sports scholarship at the local community college, I was in my high school sophomore year and making a splash as head cheerleader. We met at a college party I snuck into with my older sister.”
I took another drink, my glass was empty so I ordered another.
“Nine-months later, we made it work. I gotta hand it to the man, back then he was so wrapped around my finger, so in love, and so responsible. We both worked our asses off, and when I graduated high school, I was soon pregnant again with our second.”
With my glass filled I took another drink. It’s not as weak as earlier when the ice had melted.
“Fast-forward to now. Both sons are on their own, moderately successful. Hubby found himself a new bitch. Yes bitch! That asshole knocked up his barely legal secretary! I get kicked out of the house, this disaster makes me look awful, he turned our sons against me! I lost the majority of my followers and now I’m back in my parents basement.”
I stared into the glass before I continued.
“Fuck my life! I’m so done at this point, it’s not worth it. So what’s the fix? Splish-splash toaster bath! Oh wait, that didn’t work, the power went out.”
The man next to me jumped slightly at my sudden outburst.
“Okay, okay, fine, I know a dry creek under a tall bridge. It’s a lovely sunny day. Perfect for a good-bye! I leap. I land in a fucking flash-flood. Where the hell did this come from?!”
He seems to be more engaged in my ramblings as I lament.
“Third time is the charm right? This nylon rope supports up to three hundred pounds. I just bought it and went to a rather solid oak tree with thick branches. Everything is set up, I got the noose around my neck, I measured correctly, I slip off from my position on the branch. Snap! Not only did the rope fail, but the whole damn tree decided to fall over.”
I slammed back the full contents of my glass. Bottoms up!
“What the hell? What the actual hell? Why am I not allowed to die?! I have no fucking purpose! No reason to live! Just let me die!”
The man next to me at the bar just stares at me, slowly sipping his fifth Pabst.
I tiled my head back, long blond hair in a mess, tumbled over my back and shoulders. I turned my neck to get a better look at the man. He’s not that remarkable. Looks like he just got off work at a greasy garage. His eyes are dark, his hair as much a mess as mine though significantly shorter and darker with some salt and peppered grays.
A grin slowly curls his lips. I know this type of grin, he’s undressing me with his eyes. Of course he is. I’ve been told I’m a rather attractive woman, for someone nearing her fifties anyway.
I should be attractive, I spent a shit-ton of money keeping myself looking camera ready. Breast augmentation, Botox, spa retreats, yoga retreats, I went all out.
His eyes trace my legs, slowly making their way back up to meet my eyes. His grin never leaves.
I noticed his face was flush, he’s drunk or he’s really buzzed.
“I can give you a purpose.” He says in a slow southern draw.
I blinked slowly, thinking my face had defaulted to my usual RBF look.
“You know what? Fuck it. I’m yours to do as you please.” I said as I looked at my empty glass, slightly lamenting the lack of alcohol in it.
The man stood slowly, knees cracking in protest, he’s tall. He’s a good foot taller than I am, maybe more. Pretty well built now that I had a better look at him.
He set a fifty on the counter, “Covers yours too. Let’s go.” He says.
I stood and followed behind him, we left the bar and got into his rig. It’s a large white pick-up. Of course it’s a damn pick-up. This is a hick town of sorts and there’s only two types of vehicles here. Pick-ups and mini-vans.
Whatever. I didn’t give a shit anymore.
The ride was a silent one. He looked pretty determined, eyes focused on the road, gripping the driver’s wheel tightly.
We ended up somewhere out in the backwoods. Nothing around besides an older looking trailer. ‘This must be where he lives, or where he kills his victims. Ha! I could be so lucky!’ I thought as he parked his rig.
I didn’t notice the somewhat dilapidated barn behind the trailer until we got out.
We entered the trailer. I was impressed, it was so clean. From the outside I had expected it to be dingy and gross in that way older trailers are. This was actually well maintained.
I looked at the man, “So, bedroom?” I asked him.
He locked the door and looked back at me with that grin from earlier. “No, I think here in the main room would be best.” As he spoke he rummaged in a drawer in the small kitchenette.
“You want me to get undressed or...?” I had never done anything like this. Well, Okay I had fucked my now ex-husband within five minuets of meeting him, but I’ve never been with any other man, hell, I’ve never been alone at a bar!
There I was, standing in a stranger’s trailer willing to let him do whatever the hell he wanted.
“I’ve never had a willing buffet before.” He said as he pulled a carving knife from a drawer.
I was getting excited when I saw the distinctive shine from the blade. Would he actually accomplish that which I failed to do?
He stepped closer to me, knife pointed at my breasts, “Just how far are you willing to let me go before I have to force from you what I want?”
I realised, that it never had been a grin of undressing me out of clothing, he was undressing me out of my skin.
“Oh, oh honey, please...” I stepped closer, feeling the knife point pressing through my blouse. I wrapped a hand gently around his that held the handle of the blade, “Please take your time, make it hurt,” I moved close enough to whisper in his ear, “Make me scream.”
I wanted to feel every excruciating slice, I wanted him to do things to me only a butcher would dare do to cattle. I fucking wanted to die!
I could feel and hear his deep chuckle. He slid the knife up to my neck and wrapped his other arm around my hips, pulling me closer.
“I hope you taste as good as you smell. How much of you is natural?”
I had to giggle at that, “There’s some Botox in my face, and the breast augmentation is fat from my thighs. Nothing unnatural beyond that.”*
He liked that answer.
“Do you like classic music? Like, big band?” He asked, moving apart enough to look into my eyes again.
I thought about it. It had been years since I’d listened to big band, or swing, or anything older than Justin Bieber. Yeah, I know, pretty pathetic.
“Yeah, I could do with some tunes.” I was surprised by this man again. He produced a record player and put on Frank Sinatra. Here I thought everyone in this town would be a disciple of Billy Ray or some country crap like that.
Not this guy. Pretty classy actually.
He placed a hand behind my head, gripping my hair tightly and slowly pulling back to better expose my neck. He then pressed the blade against the tip of my chin, pressing until the skin broke. It stung, I liked it. Slowly he pulled the blade down to my chest, I felt warm blood begin to flow onto my skin, staining the top of my blouse.
“Oh yes ... Please...” I heard my voice before I realised I was saying anything.
I think he liked that too. The sound of a quiet moan escaped his lips, and he removed the blade. I felt his warm tongue along my neck where he just had the blade.
I could hear his delight at lapping the blood off my neck. It was intoxicating. I was causing this stranger such delight from my blood alone. I couldn’t wait for him to finish me off.
“It’s superficial.” He said; that southern draw of his had taken on a lustful edge. “I’ve never had a chance to really take my time and enjoy someone fresh and warm.”
“Take all the time in the world, as long as I’m dead by the end.”
“I’m going to enjoy carving you up. We’ll start with your hands.” As he said this he took hold of my right hand, placing his thumb between my middle and third digit, “Removing the last two fingers first, they have a nice crunch to them...”
“Yes...”
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