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Diary Entry: August 11th

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Trigger warning: This part contains explicit descriptions of murder, rape and/or torture, which may be disturbing or triggering for some readers.

August 11th

I found another one today.

She was working at a gas station I drove into, and as soon as I saw her, I was intrigued. She was just sitting there, behind the plexiglass window, reading something or writing something maybe. Like she'd been waiting for me to arrive.

For a while, I just sat in my car and watched her. She was the perfect combination of youth and beauty—everything I like in a girl.

In a potential...

Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, exposing herself to me in all her glory. I wondered if she'd done it on purpose, just to prove she wasn't afraid of me.

Of course, she should've been.

When she finally looked up, she seemed surprised to see me there, and motioned to me, asking with charades if I wanted her to come out and pump my gas.

I did. But as much as I wanted to see her holding that hose, gripping it tightly as it spewed liquid into the tank, I realized she wasn't ready yet.

I wasn't ready yet.

Sometimes I don't like to strike right away. I want to enjoy the courtship. Usually, things happened so fast that I never got a chance to savor the moments. And then they were gone, left only as a memory that I'd have to play over and over again for a subpar payoff.

With this one, I wanted to take my time.

So, I shook my head with a smile, and got out of the car to fill my own tank. Halfway through, I looked back in the direction of the dark-haired beauty in the booth, and saw that she'd already gone back to whatever she'd been doing before.

I imagined she was playing hard to get. And it turned me on.

When I was finished, I paid at the pump and then got back into my car and drove to school.

For the rest of the day I thought of her.

I imagined running my hands through her hair after pulling it out of whatever kept it perfectly in place. Bobby pins, maybe. I'd hold her lower lip between my teeth and bite down until I tasted blood, but only until she moaned with pleasure. Her body wriggling beneath mine, scared but excited at the same time, begging me to violate her again and again...

Later, when I was doing this chick I met at a bar, I imagined it was the gas station girl I was in bed with. As I slowly choked her into unconsciousness, I thought of all the dirty things I'd do when I got my hands on the real thing.

The girl was wasted, so she wouldn't remember any details in the morning. She might be sore, but they usually were after a night with me. The girl's just lucky I'm letting her wake up at all.

I think I'll go by the gas station again...

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