Sunday, June 8, 2014

Having read part one over and then immediately heading over to Cass' blog I am now convinced that we are on to something pretty fucking incredible. Her writing makes me better, stronger, and more intense. Cass pushes me in ways no one else can and I am honored to be working with her again. Hopefully y'all think I'm worthy as you read the third part of our collaboration.
Just incase you haven't read the first part it's right here on my blog. The second installment is here at Cass' blog:



Cassandre Dayne and Christian Jensen


That first girl was a fluke. Some talk about the right place at the right time and I’m a firm believer in that truth. I had mentioned my time in the New York hardcore scene as some hot shit song writer. That lasted a few years but it was novels that were making me a name. I loved the freedom of writing whatever I wanted, not dealing with the “talent” of whatever artist I was paired with, and the lengthy timelines were cake for me because I wrote like a man possessed. I could knock out a full length novel in three weeks and usually had six to eight months to finish it. Back then the advances were quick and the money was ridiculous. I was living high on the hog and loving life. I was also bored to fucking tears.

Sex was a nice distraction. I was a good looking guy. I spent my time in the gym and had a tight body. I was rich. I was smart. I could read women the way most guys read a newspaper. It was like a sixth sense, some hideous gift that made them all transparent to me. I would talk to them for a few minutes, get inside their heads, and take them back to my place.

This little bitch, my first glorious redhead, was slightly different. She insisted on going back to her house.

“I have toys,” she purred in my ear. “And party favors.”

Keep in mind that this was the late eighties in South Florida. Cocaine was king and if you didn’t ski you didn’t fuck. I had mountains of the shit at my house but when I got back to the little redheads place I was shocked at the vulgar display of illegal drugs she kept out on her kitchen table. Uppers and downers in every color of the rainbow littered the glass table amongst a pile of cocaine big enough to stop every heart on Wall Street. I immediately loved her.

We were kissing hot and heavy when we walked through the door, my hand was pushed down under the waistband of her skirt, one finger inside her tight cunt while another strummed a melody on her swollen clit. She was moaning into my mouth and I could taste the cool alcohol of her martini as her tongue did somersaults in my mouth. My cock was nothing but a hard rod grasped a little too tightly in her small hand but what the fuck did I care? Our clothes got shredded and thrown in the corner of her foyer and I took her right there on the cool marble tiles with the front door still open and neighbors walking by. I pushed into her wetness and she let out a low growl of need. My hand went to one exposed breast and pinched her nipple.

“Harder,” her eyes were showing only the whites as she studied the inside of her head. “Don’t be a pussy.”

I slammed my cock back into her but to my surprise she put her hand over mine and forced me to pinch her nipple harder. The tendons in my hand stood out. She arched her back and bucked her hips back into me. She smiled and dug the nails of her hands into my ass.

I slid out and grabbed her hips, flipping her over onto her knees. I smacked her ass as hard as I could and smiled at the yelp of pleasure I got. I impaled her and immediately began to fuck with a wild ferocity. I was getting close to the point of no return and wanted to get her off quick. I slid my hand over her hip and between her legs and rubbed her clit while my other hand went back to her tit and pinched the other nipple. My weight was on her but this little bitch didn’t care. I fucked hard and fast and finally pushed inside her and let my cum paint her insides.

After we gathered our strength we went into the kitchen and took a few monster bumps.

“I like it rough,” she wiped some powder off her nose while I ground a couple errant crystals down with a credit card. “I mean really rough. You won’t hurt me, but I’d like it if you tried. No matter what…Ugh”

I punched the bitch right in the face. I was dealing with a lot in that moment and her giving me the green light like that was a bad thing. I was stuck on my latest book, my editor was giving me a ton of shit about missed deadlines, the publishing company was behind on the second installment of four advances, and there was talk about major changes coming through the industry. I was stressed and running through money like it was water when I knew I should be saving for a rainy day. And I fucking hated south Florida. I wanted to leave and was already planning on moving when this bitch opened a door that would have been much better off remaining closed.

So I punched her. She wanted me to try and hurt her? No fucking problem there, buddy.

She feel back into a chair and flipped over it, landing hard on her back. She looked up at me through watery eyes, her nose pouring blood. She smiled.

“Good start,” her legs were shaky as she got up and wiped some of the blood from her tit with a trembling hand. She licked the blood and cocked her head to the side. “You gonna finish what you started or do I need to get a real man in here?

I lunged over the chair and shoved her into the wall. My cock was instantly hard and I bent her over the counter. I grabbed her hips and shoved into her ass then proceeded to beat on her back until my hands were sore. When I couldn’t physically hit her any longer I grabbed her neck and choked her with all the strength I had.

By the time I came she was nearly unconscious. It took a few minutes for her to regain lucidity. By then I was covered in sweat and some of her blood, my eyes probably looked like they belonged to someone in a strait jacket and I was holding a kitchen knife in one numb hand.

“I’ll hurt you,” as I moved closer to her the look of sexual excitement changed to one of actual fear. That turned me on a lot more and I instantly knew something about myself that I didn’t’a couple seconds earlier. “I’ll make sure I hurt you more than anyone ever has or ever will.”

My cock had been in her mouth, her pussy, and her ass. I was out of openings to violate and the only thought that made any sense was to make new ones. I stabbed her over and over again. I tried to stay away from vital areas but there was so much blood I was sure I hit something important. Each time the knife went in it made this sick little popping sound as the blade penetrated her flesh and then a wet, sloppy sound as I pulled it out. I liked it. The metallic tang of blood was thick in the air and mixed intoxicatingly well with the chemicals already burning the insides of my nose.

When she feel to the floor I landed on top of her and threw the knife across the floor. I began to shove my cock into the make-shift pussies, fucking each new hole until it tore too wide and didn’t feel good any more. By the time I finally came she was just about dead. I ended it all by beating her face in with the electric can open. I don’t know why I used it but the damn thing was heavy and pretty much indestructible. I should have taken the can opener with me. I think about that most nights and wonder if it’s still in an evidence locker somewhere of if it eventually got thrown out.

She was my first. I have no idea what her name was but she awakened something inside of me that has only grown and intensified ever since. Of course I’ve matured and developed my own style and signature but I find that killing is the same as writing. You only get better by practicing. And right now I’m the best.

I left south Florida a few weeks later. I had a sudden panicky urge to run away immediately but thought that might make me look suspicious. I burnt the bitches house down to cover my crime. The cops investigated. I was even questioned for a few minutes while the keystone cops did their farcical investigation but that only ended in me signing a lot of autographs and listening to a room full of detective throwing story ideas out at me about books they always thought about writing. I waited until things died down and headed out to Maryland. I didn’t have a specific reason for choosing Maryland, I just landed there and it seemed right.

My second victim was another redhead. Her name was Amanda and she had the most incredible legs. She was the first one I crucified and really the first woman I considered a work of art. I picked her up outside a bar, talked to her for a couple minutes, and then brought her back to my place. I fucked her a few times and then waited for her to fall asleep before sticking a hypodermic in her neck. She cringed and woke up for a second before passing out under the drugs weight. When she came to I had tied her up in the garage, arms and legs splayed on my cross.

While I cut into her I kept getting these little flashes of another man. It was nothing sexual but for some reason it felt like this guy was watching me, like we had some kind of weird psychic connection. I shook it off. I thought it was just the excitement of the kill. By the time Amanda was dead I knew this connection was something else. I had my first premonition. My first of many. I knew this man was a cop and he would hunt me to the ends of the earth. I also knew he would grow to be my biggest fan.

Just to remind y'all Cass and I have written three other books before. Find the links for them here on our Facebook page and throw us a like. Also let me know what you think of the story so far. Don't be shy. Pussies.

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