[Various tools to deal with all kinds of pressure]

I. The Cause

? I killed someone.

So now I wander around like a cockroach afraid of light.

Here's what happened: A month ago, the thugs in our town were short of money again, so they went door-to-door collecting protection money. They came to my house to collect, and when my father refused, they broke his leg with a shovel. When I got home and saw my father's broken leg, it was like a bolt from the blue; an uncontrollable urge to kill surged within me. I grabbed a cleaver from the kitchen and ran towards the thug's house…

I killed him; with just one cleaver, his head was severed from his neck. But his head didn't fall off, because a bit of skin still held it together at the back of his neck. The thug's filthy blood splattered all over my face.

I hid his body in a dry well in my backyard and cleaned up the crime scene.

From then on, I began my life on the run.

I've never suffered from cold or hunger because I have a strong physique and a fierce temper. When I'm hungry, I eat and dash, then it's a fight with multiple people, or I steal something, and then I run away for my

life. I change locations every day because I know the police will soon discover the murder I committed, and then every province will issue warrants for my arrest. Half a month has passed. I've traveled to many places, eating and dashing, fighting, and robbing (only robbing passersby; I've never robbed a bank because I'm not that stupid). Now, at twenty-six, if I had to end my life now, I wouldn't have too many regrets. I'd give my life to avenge my father—I'd accept it!

But then again, if I really have any regrets, it's that I've never experienced true love. Thinking of this, I leaned against the alley wall and sat down on the ground, lighting a stolen cigarette. My thoughts, along with the smoke, drifted back to the past…

In high school, I fell deeply in love with a girl. She was beautiful, her eyes filled with a captivating softness. I told her she looked like Lin Daiyu (a character from the classic Chinese novel *Dream of the Red Chamber*), and she would always blush and giggle at me. She was so kind to me, always chatting and laughing with me. Being with her added color to my high school years.

Near graduation, I asked her,

"Do you like me?"

She said, "I will only love you in my life."

I was deeply moved and hugged her tightly. She stroked my muscular chest with her slender fingers.

After graduating high school, because my grades were terrible, I didn't get into university and planned to go back home to find work. She also missed university by a few points and said she planned to retake the exam next year.

But

her family was very poor, so poor that they couldn't even afford to retake it. Although my family was poor too, I told her I would support her and use the money I earned through hard work to help her retake the exam. After hearing what I said, she seemed very touched, grabbed my hand, and ran happily.

We played wildly until dark, and finally went to a karaoke bar. Her singing voice was beautiful, full of tenderness. After we sang a few songs, she looked up at me alluringly from my arms, then stroked my chest with her hand. The fire of desire within me was burning. She took off her white cloth boots, and her legs, clad in black stockings, rose and rested on my lap. At that moment, her soft, beautiful fingers began to slide towards my lower body.

"I can't do this to you yet," I said, grasping her sliding hand.

"Why? Don't you love me?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"No, it's precisely because I love you, truly love you, love everything about you, and of course, your body. I'm thinking of the day I formally marry you, and then I'll take you. Because I'm not afraid of hurting you, of losing you," I said earnestly.

I was indeed under the spell of love, loving her recklessly, using the hard-earned money I made working in the mines to support her education.

For half a year, the first thing I did after receiving my monthly salary was to go to the school to give her money.

This time was no different. I went to the school to find her, my pocket full of money, thinking of her joy at receiving the money. A happy smile already graced my face.

I saw her in the distance, and just as I was about to rush over, I noticed a tall, thin boy with glasses sitting beside her. They were chatting and laughing, and I saw my girlfriend's hand already caressing the boy's body… When they kissed, I rushed over and punched the "glasses" in the face, knocking his glasses away. He fell to the ground, clutching his face, crying and calling for his mother. She was also surprised, but after a moment, her face returned to its calm.

Looking into her eyes, tears were already welling up. I tried my best to control my emotions and said in a gentle tone:

"Why…why did you…"

She turned her head away and squeezed out a few words through her teeth:

"You're not as rich as him, you're a pauper!"

… After finishing my cigarette, I snapped out of my reverie. The deeper the love, the deeper the resentment. The hatred in my heart grew stronger. I hated those unfaithful women, those women who toyed with emotions. A vengeful rage burned within me. I looked at the gray sky, and a thought arose in my mind: I will, in the short time I live, brutally rape every unfaithful woman in the world! II

. Using a splintered wooden stick ? That evening, after dinner, I sat in a corner smoking. Next to the corner was a small restaurant. Because it was summer, the tables were set up outdoors. Not far from me, three women in short skirts were chatting and laughing at a table. I overheard their laughter: they were proudly recounting how they had toyed with emotions and played with the lovesick "foolish" men. They laughed wildly, their laughter so shrill and cunning that it fueled my anger! Night fell. As they walked down the street after their meal, I appeared behind them. I quietly followed, waiting for my chance. They entered a gymnastics hall. Because of security guards, I was refused entry and required identification. I looked around and found a small window at the back of the hall that I could enter through. With great effort, I broke the flimsy iron bars on the window and climbed in. After jumping down, I realized it was a women's restroom. A stained sanitary napkin lay quietly on the floor. Thankfully, no one was around. If someone had discovered me breaking in and reported it to security, my plan would be ruined. I thought to myself as I walked towards the door. Just as I reached the door, before I even touched the handle, I heard footsteps outside. I quickly hid in a stall. Each stall in this toilet was separated by wooden boards, one cubicle after another. Sure enough, someone was there to use the toilet, because the person outside had already turned on the light. A dim, orange light illuminated the space.

With a creak, the door opened. I peeked through the crack and saw a woman walk in. It was none other than one of the three sluts eating at the restaurant! "What

I've been searching for is right under my nose!" I thought to myself.

The woman went into the stall next to mine.

I quietly grabbed the top of the wooden plank separating us, did a pull-up, and saw her in the next stall. She was urinating, spraying urine everywhere. Taking advantage of the sound, I climbed to the top of the plank. Then I groped my way down, quietly, and came behind her.

After she finished urinating and wiped herself with toilet paper, I suddenly reached out and covered her mouth with my right hand. Startled by the suddenness, her back convulsed and trembled, followed by a desperate struggle. That feeble struggle was utterly useless against me. I tore off a large wad of toilet paper with my left hand, and the instant I moved my right hand away, I shoved it into her mouth. My right hand firmly gripped her hands and body, which were pressed against her chest.

Her legs, clad in black stockings, kicked wildly, striking my legs. I panicked, shoving her to the ground and sitting on top of her. Because her hands were in front of her chest, they were now pinned down by my body, unable to move.

Her face was pressed against the wet floor, making muffled sounds. Her legs continued to kick.

I grew impatient, grabbing her hair and slamming it against the tile floor. Then I whispered in her ear,

"If you don't cooperate, I'll kill you."

This tactic worked; she gradually stopped kicking.

I ripped the belt from her skirt and tied it around her hands, then took off my black vest and tied it to my face.

I turned her over, making her face me. Now I could see her face more clearly. A face that drove so many men mad! Although she was crying her eyes out and her eyes were swollen, her beauty remained undiminished.

It's a pity she's also a heartless slut who plays with emotions. Damn it! A surge of anger and lust rose simultaneously, one rushing towards my head, the other towards my glans.

I pinned her legs down with my own, leaving her no room to struggle, only low sobs escaping her lips.

I slapped her across the face, muttering,

"Damn it! Slut, what are you crying for? Playing with emotions, huh? You deserve it."

With that, I forcefully ripped off her shirt; my strength was considerable, and the buttons on her white blouse flew off. Two full, plump breasts, clad in pink bras, sprang out.

My mouth watered! This girl was a real gem; if she were a virgin, even better!

I impatiently pulled down her bra, leaving two deep, bloody welts on either side of her breasts. Two pink nipples, like rosy cherries, appeared before my eyes. I could clearly feel my penis was about to burst.

I gripped her breasts hard with both hands, like tiger claws, leaving red finger marks. I looked at her face, gritting my teeth as I squeezed, as if I wanted to crush them. Her face told me of her pain: sweat and tears mingled, her bangs were disheveled on her forehead, her eyes were tightly closed, and blood trickled from her mouth (because she was desperately trying to scream, and I had stuffed too much tissue into her mouth too forcefully). Her heaving chest showed the extent of her tension and resistance.

I punched her again, landing on her cheekbone, producing another low "ooh," followed by even more violent heaving of her chest.

I grabbed her nipples with my fingers and pulled them upwards, stretching her round breasts into a triangle shape. After pulling, I began to pound her chest with my fists. Then I ripped her blue skirt, revealing her pink panties and her smooth, jade-like legs clad in black stockings. I immediately pulled off her panties: her pussy was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful! Beneath the thick pubic hair were two pink, tightly closed labia. I forcefully pried open her labia with two fingers, revealing even more pink flesh inside. Her

vagina was tightly closed below her urethra. I couldn't wait any longer; the fire of desire was about to burst my glans. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my already rock-hard cock. I gripped my cock and thrust it into her vagina... my cock was practically bent, but it still wouldn't go in! Damn it, I slapped her a few more times, then pinched her smooth little face and pulled her long, orange hair. But all I got in return were a few muffled groans through the toilet paper, and her vaginal opening only tightened further. "I have to think of something..." I looked around and saw a plunger. I picked up the plunger and used the wooden stick to forcefully insert it into her closed vagina. Her upper body writhed even more violently. I pushed hard again, and the wooden stick, accompanied by a muffled groan, slid into her vagina. She thrashed about like a fish out of water, her whole body convulsing, her head shaking violently from side to side, hitting the tile floor with a "thump, thump" sound. It seemed she was in excruciating pain. I inserted a long section of the wooden stick and then suddenly pulled it out. This pull caused a spurt of bright red blood. God! She really was a virgin. It's a pity her first time was given to a wooden stick... Looking at her bleeding vaginal opening, coupled with the torment of the wooden stick, I didn't even want to insert it into her vagina anymore. I felt disgusted, so I simply continued to insert the wooden stick into her with one hand while masturbating with the other. My masturbation movements were identical to the movements of the wooden stick, so the sensations were similar. However, her sensations were different because the wooden stick was longer and thicker than my penis, and it had some small splinters... I pushed and pulled for half an hour, each thrust resulting in a muffled groan. The blood from her ruptured hymen was now pooling on the floor, but it was still flowing. The groans grew fainter, as if they were about to stop. I thought I had to ejaculate before she passed out! I increased the frequency of my masturbation. "Ah...I...I'm going to cum...ah..." Realizing I was about to ejaculate, I quickly squatted above her neck, and a "white arrow" shot into her face. I left the plunger inside her seemingly ruined vagina, urinated on her semen-covered face, and then zipped up my jeans. "Goodbye, you fickle slut." With that, I left the bathroom and began searching for my next target. (To be continued)

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[Various tools to deal with all kinds of pressure]

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