The First Girl of the Teenage College Party Massacre (M/F, Non-Con)

Maria wasn't really in the mood for a party. The exchange student from Italy felt a bit out of place among all the college students who had known each other for half their lives, so she took the opportunity presented by some new arrivals to slip away briefly into one of the bathrooms.

She quickly closed the bathroom door behind her and made sure it was securely locked before turning to the mirror to look at herself. A bright, freckled face framed by curly black hair smiled back at her. Her lipstick was still perfect, as was her mascara. Satisfied, she ran her hand over her tight-fitting, glittering sequined dress and looked around the bathroom.

She quickly slid her dress over her hips and pulled a red, lace-trimmed pair of panties down over her rounded knees. Sighing, she sat down on the toilet and let it run, her beautiful face resting in her hands.

Already somewhat tired, she peered between her thighs at the stream that shot forcefully from between her labia, crowned by a curly bush, and splashed against the porcelain of the toilet. With a touch of longing, she thought back to Pedro, the last person besides herself to have touched that area.

Still completely lost in thought, she didn’t notice a figure emerging from the shadow of the shower curtain, approaching her from the front with a confident stride. Nor did she notice the flash of a long hunting knife as the figure stopped right in front of her. It wasn’t until the last drops of urine splashed into the bowl and she tried to sit up to look for toilet paper that she noticed the tall, slender, and—above all—completely naked body that had loomed right in front of her.

Before she could even make a sound, she heard the hiss of a blade followed by a brief, sharp pain. More out of reflex than anything else, Ma-ria grabbed her throat. Wet warmth spread across her palm and began to run down her arm. She tasted metal.

Confused, her gaze wandered between the erect cock right in front of her nose and the bloody blade, which her attacker now let dangle casually between two fingers by his hip. Unable to comprehend what had just happened, Maria let out a few questioning, gurgling sounds, followed by a gush of arterial blood that flowed from her open throat onto the sequined dress.

She tried to stand up but slipped on her own blood. She began to realize that she was in the throes of death. Like a frightened deer on a frozen lake, she tried repeatedly to get up but slipped every time. The dress kept sliding up higher while her panties had slipped down to her ankles from all the kicking.

Exhausted, she could only manage to roll onto her back, wrapping both hands around her neck in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. She grew weaker. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed forever was a smug look, a stiff cock, and the blade approaching her curly pubic hair to wipe her blood off it.