I put the camera down and stripped. Once I was naked, I leaned in close to Katie, stopping her hand, removing that vibe, and gently licked her clit. Raising her ass of the couch, trying to get her clit closer to my face, she moaned, “Fuck me”. I responded, “You will have my dick until you are tired of it, I promise. But you are going to have wave after wave of orgasm until you are so exhausted, you can’t move.” Her eyes looked at me lustfully, almost begging me. I was thinking, tough shit, I had to jump through a lot of hoops to get here, and we are going to do what I want. I went straight back to her pussy, only this time, I was cleaning her cum from her legs, grazing her pussy lips with my tongue, covering and sucking her clit. It didn’t take long for her to start bucking, legs shooting straight out. “I’M CUMMING”, she yelled. I let her ride that wave and lined her up for another. I ordered Katie to pull her stocking covered knees to her ears, so her pussy was completely exposed.. The pen went into another. He sealed the bags and slipped them into another bag."Kiley, get some pictures of her wrists." He moved out of the way, holding her arms out slightly so that the ligature marks could be plainly seen.Gabe stared down at her bare legs, seeing the same torn and bruised skin around her ankles. Large gashes, made by something very hard and tight that she struggled against ringed her ankles. Ropes caused bruises, burns and chafing marks. These ligature marks looked more like something made with plastic or wire.Blood had run in streaks down her legs, drying on her pale skin. Gabe felt a surge of unprofessional rage well inside of him. Murder was dirty; it was a cheap thrill for a sick mind. Crimes of passion were more easily understood, rage could affect anyone. But a serial killer was like a sick dog. He killed for the thrill, for the joy, for the pleasure that he derived from someone else's pain.And a man who would take a young woman away from her family for no.
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