[Killed classmate]

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Murdering a classmate and then necrophilia
Word count: 14847 words
Author: Unknown
txt package: [attach]1712832[/attach]
My name is Zhang San, and this happened several years ago. When I was in high school, there was a girl in my class named
Zhang Wenya. Her appearance was average among beautiful girls; although she was far from being a stunning beauty,
many people would praise her looks when they mentioned her. Calling her an angelic face wouldn't be an exaggeration. Her figure
was also good, curvaceous and tall. But when it came to her personality, everyone would frown.
Zhang Wenya was probably spoiled from a young age, used to being bossy, and had no respect for others.
She had a group of close friends, or rather, followers, among the boys. She would teach a lesson to anyone she didn't like in class, and
if the latter didn't submit, they would be beaten up by her gang. She didn't even spare the girls; someone who argued with her for a few
words was beaten up. I expressed my dissatisfaction with her behavior, but without even speaking out. I merely 　　glanced at her with disapproving eyes
as they beat others , and she immediately ordered an attack. A group of strong boys came over 　　, knocked me down, and began punching and kicking me. She herself joined in, kicking me several times. After the beating, she looked down at 　　me with contempt and ridicule before leaving with her group. I still vividly remember her vicious expression. It took a while before I could 　　get up with the help of my classmates; the bruises on my body lingered for several days. In short, Zhang Wenya acted as the class 　　leader; anyone who disobeyed her would be beaten. 　　I was beaten several more times later, for various reasons, and many other classmates had similar experiences. 　　Everyone knew her father was wealthy and had excellent connections with the school, so complaining was useless; everyone had no choice but 　　to swallow their anger. 　　I heard many boys talking privately about wanting to kill her, but they were just saying it in anger 　　or to show off. I'm different. I'm prepared to take action, and I want her to pay even higher... 　　Besides, Zhang Wenya's personal conduct isn't good. She frequently changes boyfriends, sometimes upperclassmen, but 　　more often, they're hoodlums. She changes boyfriends every few weeks. Changing isn't easy either 　　; breaking up with a previous boyfriend can be easy sometimes, not always. One morning, I noticed 　　a handprint on her left cheek, a slap mark. She tried to cover it up with a lot of powder, but it 　　was still visible upon closer inspection. She must have been slapped when breaking up with a man. She noticed me looking at her face, 　　and from her expression, she clearly knew what had happened. Enraged, she pointed at me, and her 　　gang immediately swarmed me, beating me senseless. Does such a woman deserve forgiveness? 　　This only strengthened my resolve to kill her. Furthermore, 　　I can cleverly exploit her frequent conflicts with boyfriends. Having had so many questionable boyfriends, I wonder how many she's slept with. 　　I've watched a lot of police dramas and have some understanding of how police solve cases. I devised a detailed 　　plan, ready to execute it at the right time. Later, she continued to bully me, but I kept my distance 　　to avoid conflict. However, this was part of my plan. By avoiding direct confrontation, I 　　reduced my targets during police investigations, focusing instead on 　　classmates she frequently clashed with and her low-life boyfriends. In the first semester of senior year, the opportunity finally arrived. 　　It was shortly after the start of the semester, and I noticed something. In our big city, even senior high schools 　　don't let students leave too late, around 8:30 PM. After most people had left, Zhang Wenya would 　　flirt with her boyfriend in the classroom until after 9:30 PM before going home. She had secretly made a copy of the classroom key, and naturally, no 　　one dared to object. Students studying in the study room didn't leave until 10:30 PM. She and her boyfriend could fool around in the classroom 　　without worrying about the security guards coming to check. 　　Another point is that our school is located in a relatively remote area, and her boyfriend didn't even walk her 　　home at night. Of course, the main issue is that her home isn't far from the school; it 　　's just a short walk of about ten minutes, after crossing a street full of trees and turning a few corners. She always walks home, so it shouldn't be a problem if no one walks her. 　　But this gave me an opportunity. 　　The street to the right of the school gate, through the woods, is usually not crowded after school, but by 9:30 pm when Zhang Wenya left, it 　　was almost deserted. Although the school had installed some streetlights and 　　a pitifully few surveillance cameras on that street at the parents' insistence (who knows if they were even there), I didn't care. 　　Half of the streetlights were broken, and people usually relied on moonlight for illumination. 　　After observing for a while, I discovered that Zhang Wenya often walked on the left-hand sidewalk after school. 　　When the moon was waxing, the trees there cast shadows, making it difficult to spot people. This provided me with 　　another convenient opportunity. I specifically chose a day with a waxing moon. 　　From the day before, I wore clothes I'd never worn before under my coat to school. I took some 　　textbooks out of my backpack and packed some special tools inside, while the backpack itself looked perfectly normal. The night before, 　　after school, I sneaked into the bushes near the school, took off my coat to reveal the clothes underneath to avoid being seen 　　, and then used the folding entrenching tool I carried in my backpack to dig a hole big enough to bury a person, carefully concealing myself 　　. 　　I watched Zhang Wenya, still arrogantly leading her gang of lackeys in class, and smiled contemptuously: 　　"What's with the arrogance, woman? You'll only live until tonight." Of course, this was just my inner monologue; I absolutely couldn't let anyone 　　hear it. 　　At 8:30 pm, I rode home with my classmates as usual, laughing and joking. I 　　didn't glance at Zhang Wenya as I left, because I knew everything would go according to plan. When I arrived home, 　　my classmates said goodbye and continued on their way. After they left, I observed my surroundings, hid in the shadows, and took off my coat, revealing 　　the new clothes. 　　She turned off her phone and everything else on her that might give her away. Then she turned around and took a long detour to school 　　. Now, Zhang Wenya was undoubtedly sitting on the man's lap in the classroom again, just like before, the two of them embracing.

They kissed and hugged, probably whispering sweet nothings. I decided to come out at 9:30.
Under the cover of darkness, I reached the woods, avoiding security cameras and pedestrians as I moved through the trees.
After hiding my bicycle somewhere in the woods, I began my preparations. The bright moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled silver light on the gray ground
. The weather was neither too hot nor too cold. It was a perfect time. I took out my binoculars and saw that
our classroom lights were still on in the distance. Everything seemed normal. At 9:20, the lights went out.
It looked like it was about to begin. First, I put on the leather gloves I'd bought a long time ago to prevent fingerprints.
I also wore something that looked ridiculous but was definitely not funny in that situation—a gas
mask. I'd ordered it online during my CS obsession. The eyepiece was a single piece of plexiglass, not
two round windows, which would have severely obstructed my vision.
Firstly, this was so that if the attack failed and she escaped, I wouldn't be recognized. Secondly, I was
worried that if I attacked her from behind, she would definitely fight back fiercely, and I feared she might hit my eyes. I also tightened my cuffs and
collar to prevent her fingernails from scratching me during her struggle. If her body were found,
the flesh scraped from under her fingernails could very well become evidence against me.
I picked up the binoculars again and saw Zhang Wenya walking alone from the shadows on the sidewalk. My heart
raced; it was finally time to begin. Killing someone always carries psychological pressure, and for me,
the bigger problem was probably the fear of being caught by the police afterward. But I forced myself to remain calm; I had prepared everything meticulously
, and there was no way I could make a mistake.
I chose a very suitable location, quite a distance from the school and the next intersection, and
the shade of the trees on the sidewalk would obstruct visibility, making it difficult for people on either side to see me clearly. This spot was also between surveillance cameras 3 and 4
, beyond their range, making it an ideal place to strike.
There were scattered bushes between the sidewalk and the trees , perfect for concealment without hindering movement.
She approached, and I hid behind a bush, watching her get closer. My heart pounded. Zhang Wenya was
wearing a tight black leather top and matching trousers. Below that were knee-high black high-heeled boots, the boot shafts tightly encasing her calves and the slender heels accentuating her figure. 　　The soft tapping of
her boots on the sidewalk was enough to mask my barely audible footsteps as I approached from behind. She 　　walked past the bushes in front of me without pausing or panicking, 　　proving she hadn't been noticed. Now, if she took a slightly longer phone call, or if 　　a few pedestrians, a car, or a bicycle passed by, or even if she simply left the shadowy sidewalk, she could escape my 　　attack. I quickly scanned the area; there was no one else besides my target. Zhang 　　Wenya was still walking forward a few meters away, oblivious to my presence. 　　The boots continued their rhythmic "tap, tap, tap." I immediately assessed the situation: the danger level 　　was 0; the target's actions were under control; the probability of sudden interference was very low; the probability of being discovered was extremely low— 　　conditions for action were met. I took a deep breath: "Okay, move out! Go go go!" 　　Like a lurking leopard, I slipped out of the bushes. Crouching low, I naturally extended my arms and 　　approached the target from behind at about twice the target's walking distance, from the six o'clock position, completely concealing my footsteps within 　　the sound of the girl's boots striking the ground. During this time, I desperately tried to control my breathing to suppress my rapidly beating heart. Like 　　in many special operations movies, I arrived behind Zhang Wenya almost silently. The girl continued 　　walking forward, her handbag slung at her side. There was no deliberate swaying of her hips, but the way Zhang Wenya walked, accentuated by her high-heeled boots and tight leather jacket, 　　made her silhouette appear so graceful and alluring—it was incredibly tempting. 　　Even now, she still hadn't sensed the danger. Well, that's just your fate! I suddenly sprang into action, 　　my right hand encircling her face and immediately covering her mouth and nose, while my left hand wrapped around her chest 　　and hooked around her right arm, completely encircling it. The girl finally realized the danger and immediately panicked. She tried to scream, 　　but only a low "woof" escaped from between my fingers. Of course, she didn't give up resisting, 　　reaching out to pull away the hands covering her mouth and nose. 　　Because her arms were restrained, she could only use her forearms. The instant her hands came together to grab my hands from the front, 　　my left hand flashed up and clamped down on both her wrists. Now there was no problem. She shook her head back and forth, trying to break free from 　　my suffocating actions, but she was much weaker than me. My arms firmly controlled her head and neck, thwarting 　　all her resistance. Heh, serves her right for relying on those lackeys and not learning to train herself. 　　Now her mouth and nose were covered, and her hands were controlled. The problem should be solved. Her restless 　　little mouth tried to bite my palm, but of course she couldn't—unless she had buck teeth… 　　So I leaned her back against me and dragged the desperately resisting girl from the pre-arranged spot 　　into the bushes. I checked the surroundings again; no problems. The girl struggled wildly, and as I dragged her, the heels of her boots 　　scraped deep marks on the ground. However, you wouldn't notice them unless you stood by the roadside with a flashlight. 　　Besides, according to the plan, I'd have to come back and clean up these marks later. Everything was still going according to plan. 　　As I dragged the girl deeper into the bushes, I could see that her resistance was gradually decreasing. Due to 　　the lack of oxygen caused by having her mouth and nose covered and her panicked resistance, she must be starting to feel dizzy and 　　lightheaded. That's right, the force from the hands holding her wrists was also decreasing. Good, the suppression was successful; the opponent's resistance was about to be halved. I was close to her head; if it weren't for the gas mask, I believe I could smell 　　the fragrance 　　of her hair. However, wearing this also prevented her from suddenly regaining consciousness and tilting her head back to break my nose— 　　a scene often seen in action movies. 　　It only took a few minutes from start to finish. I pulled her to a clearing in the bushes. Just as she tried to stand up 　　, I tripped her, causing her to lose her balance. Then, I released my left hand from hers and used it to support the back of her head 　　. My right hand, which was covering her mouth, remained in place. As I squatted down, I quickly laid her down on the ground. 　　Before she could do anything, I immediately stretched out my right leg and straddled her waist, tightly gripping her arms again at my side. This...

Only then did I truly have a chance to examine her face, and my heartbeat gradually calmed down.
Zhang Wenya's bright and intelligent eyes were brimming with tears, filled with fear and panic. Especially
after she saw my ominous gas mask.
Feeling she posed little threat and had no chance of escape, I
withdrew my left hand from under her head and removed the gas mask. This thing was not only hot, but also made breathing difficult—it was really uncomfortable. However, compared to
the beautiful woman in front of me, her face flushed from lack of oxygen, my pain was nothing.
Zhang Wenya noticed my appearance and was first stunned—absolutely stunned, because her struggles stopped
for a moment.
Then her resistance intensified. My left hand pressed down on her head to prevent her from shaking it and breaking free. At this
moment, besides pain and terror, her watery eyes also held a pleading look for forgiveness. That look was incredibly heartbreaking.
I had no choice but to turn my head away, but I began to waver. This girl, though so repulsive
, didn't deserve to die. She still had parents, family, and the right to pursue a better life. What I
did was too much. But a moment later, I hardened my heart. How had she treated me back then? After I was beaten up,
she still mocked me. A girl with such poor upbringing must be
arguing with her parents all day long, causing them trouble outside, spending money recklessly, and seducing men
. Her parents must have been heartbroken.
If she died, her classmates probably wouldn't have much sympathy, because they'd be less bullied in the future… Most importantly
, if I let her go now, she'd find out my identity, and if she reported me, I'd be finished. So, the die was
cast. She had to die!
I turned to look at her. Now she looked pitiful, with tears streaming down her face, a stark contrast to her previous aggressive and ruthless attitude when she insulted me
. I sneered. "Woman, think about how you treated me before
. Now I want not only your life, but also your body!" The girl's eyes were filled with panic. She
tried to shake her head to explain, but my hand held her firmly. Warm tears slid down her cheeks and onto my hand. At this
moment, it was impossible for me not to waver, but I had no choice.
After a while, her eyelids began to twitch violently, and soon her gaze became unfocused and glazed over . Her
hands no longer tried to break free. It seemed that she had gone into shock due to lack of oxygen to her brain. After waiting a while longer, her eyelids
slowly closed. I pulled my right leg back, grabbed her hands from both sides with my left hand, raised them high, and then released them.
Her arms fell back to her sides with a "thud" like lifeless branches. It seemed there was no
problem.
It is said that people are prone to incontinence when suffocating. Is that true? I
gently pressed my left hand on her lower abdomen, and soon her crotch area was wet. I couldn't help but laugh. No matter how arrogant
or beautiful a woman is, even suffocation can lead to such embarrassing situations. I stopped pressing down and continued
to cover her mouth and nose.
After a few minutes, when I was sure she was completely dead, I finally let go. My right hand, which had been holding the same
position with all my might, was stiff and sore. It took me a while to recover, and I almost cramped up. Okay, mission
accomplished. I took off my leather gloves and blew on the sweat from my palms. Then I put on thin, transparent medical gloves. Wearing them
made little difference; I could still feel the temperature and texture, but they wouldn't leave fingerprints.
I didn't bother to examine my masterpiece closely. I looked around to make sure there was nothing amiss, took
my bag from the corpse's shoulder, unzipped it, and quickly found her phone. I checked it; there was a missed text message. I
opened it and saw it was from her boyfriend—just a bunch of nauseating sweet nothings and a message hoping she'd go to sleep early. Heh,
don't worry about it, she's already asleep. No missed calls, that's great. I pressed the power button.
That's when I noticed a photo booth picture on the back of her phone—a picture of her and a man. A somewhat
fierce-looking man and Zhang Wenya were posing for a kiss, the latter with a sweet, happy smile, clearly a
woman deeply in love.
But around the photo booth picture were several torn pieces. I smiled contemptuously. The torn pieces
were from her previous photos with her ex-boyfriend? You shameless woman. I suddenly slapped her, turning her
face to the side. "This is from your parents, you unfilial daughter."
The phone was put back in her purse. I then pulled out her wallet, and a wad of banknotes came into view—
a whole stack of hundred-yuan bills. Oh, so her family is really rich. I took out seven hundred-yuan bills and stuffed them into my pocket,
waving the wallet at the female corpse. "Bitch, you shouldn't have a problem with that. You owe me." Inside the wallet were her ID
cards; her one-inch color photo showed her as delicate and lovely. I shook my head; the difference between a photo and the real person is always so vast.
There were also discount cards for designer clothes, tennis club memberships, and things like that, but I couldn't be bothered to look at them anymore. Anyway,
it had nothing to do with me, and even less to do with her. The bag also contained lipstick, a makeup case, and ridiculously,
pepper spray. I thought, with your reflexes, this is a complete waste, and I have a gas
mask; it's useless for you. In short, nothing could possibly make a sound or cause trouble.
After looking around again, I picked up the female corpse, hoisted it onto my shoulder, and headed towards my pre-arranged amusement area. This girl
's body was incredibly heavy; carrying it was exhausting. It was like carrying two sacks of grain! Probably nearly a hundred pounds! If only she
could lose some weight… As someone who often mocks girls for dieting, this is the first time I've ever hoped a girl should
lose weight—it's ridiculous! The corpse's toes, swaying, intentionally or unintentionally brushed against my thigh, teasing
me with an unbearable itch; I just wanted to get there quickly and start.
We arrived at a clearing in the woods, a large gap between the tree canopies allowing bright moonlight to spill directly onto
the ground, creating a large white patch. I had placed my backpack containing the tools there. So, naturally, I
placed Zhang Wenya in this moonlight. I looked around again; nothing seemed amiss. I let out a sigh of relief, squatted down
beside the corpse's feet, and began to carefully examine the delicate body of this beautiful woman who had been lively and energetic just ten minutes ago. I looked her up
and down. The bright moonlight shone on the girl's face, making her appear so serene, so peaceful, and so enchanting.
Her shoulder-length straight hair cascaded around her head. Her eyelids weren't fully closed; beneath her long, slightly curled eyelashes
, a glimmer of light shone through, but it was utterly lifeless, still brimming with tears.
Tear streaks lingered on her cheeks. Her pert nose, under the moonlight, possessed an almost jade-like quality. Her delicate lips were slightly swollen and red,
undoubtedly from the kiss with the man in the classroom earlier; saliva trickled from the corners of her lips down her neck, likely
a reaction to suffocation. Moving my gaze further down, I saw her snow-white neck, still smeared with saliva, somewhat detracting from its beauty.
Her breasts were full and firm, and her slender waist, accentuated by the tight leather jacket, highlighted her graceful curves
.
Further down was her lower body; a cartier belt caught my eye—a finely polished
metal buckle with two identical circles on it, likely an expensive designer piece. Seeing
her wet crotch almost made me laugh again, but I hoped I hadn't used too much force. If I had, the urine
would have gushed out like a flood, and the smell would be unbearable and cause serious trouble. If
she had also expelled feces, it would be even worse; I didn't want to find a poop-filled
crotch in her underwear when I pulled down her pants.
Zhang Wenya's legs were slender and long, and I couldn't help but wonder if she had studied dance. My mind started to imagine
her gracefully spinning in a ballet costume, or dancing barefoot in the clothing of a southern minority girl
… I pushed my thoughts away and continued downwards. There was a pair of well-made leather boots, with cute rounded toes
.
The boots weren't decorated with any vulgar embellishments, only some artificial folds at the ankle and
a silver zipper on the side of the boot shaft. Unlike some boots that are wider at the top and narrower at the bottom, these boots had
a straight shaft that hugged the wearer's calves without any gaps. The boots had a streamlined shape, exuding a clean
and crisp beauty. They perfectly complemented their slender owner, showcasing her curves beautifully and
possessing a wild and willful quality, perfectly matching the arrogant and domineering girl of the past. These were definitely
a foreign brand, worth at least several thousand yuan. The corpse's entire outfit probably cost tens of thousands.
The smooth, delicate high-heeled leather boots shimmered softly in the moonlight. Actually, this was
one of the reasons I decided to make my move recently—Zhang Wenya looked so beautiful in boots! I had never thought she was so pretty,
so alluring before. Since I was already planning to kill her, I might as well do it now. My heart started racing again
. A beautiful girl lay defenseless before me, at my mercy—such an opportunity
wouldn't come again.
If I didn't want to endure it any longer, I wouldn't! I decided to start with her feet. I slowly unzipped her right boot
. I enjoyed the process. If she were wearing sneakers, I could only enjoy the thrill of untying shoelaces,
which was nothing compared to this. It was mainly this feeling of being in control. Besides, sneakers are
quieter, making it harder to conceal my approach, so I preferred boots. The zipper was fully open. I
lifted her heel and gently pulled her ankle out of the boot. She was wearing a pair of wicked black
stockings. Her
five fleshy, rounded toes, wrapped in the black, semi-transparent fibers, exuded a hazy, alluring beauty. Equally
enticing were her smooth, delicate arches, especially her white soles, which were
visually striking against the black stockings. She was wearing slightly below-the-knee shorts, leaving the rest exposed in the boots
.
I lifted her feet up to my face as if holding a fragile treasure, immediately feeling
the warmth of her soles. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of fur and the sweat of my feet, mixed
with the distinctive smell of stockings, filled my nostrils. I took a few more breaths; the smell of stockings and boots lessened, and
the stench of my feet became more pronounced.
It's called foot odor, but a girl's foot odor is relatively mild, with a hint of milk and bean fragrance
, completely different from a man's foul smell. At least for me, a foot fetishist, it's something I absolutely love.
I couldn't resist making a few sarcastic remarks. I turned to Zhang Wenya and said, "Hey, woman, how often do you wash your
feet?
Don't the men who play with you mind that your feet are so smelly? Or do they just like it?" Anyway,
I couldn't be happier. It's not even October yet, but some girls who are afraid of the cold are already wearing long
boots.
So, keeping their feet warm is a given, and girls who sweat a little are bound to have smelly feet. I wonder
what her men think of her feet. If they just fuck her without knowing how to enjoy her feet,
that's a real waste. But it doesn't matter; I'm going to make the most of her feet now.
She's traveled abroad several times, using these feet to explore many countries in Europe, America, and Southeast Asia. But
now those feet can't go anywhere; they're just soft toys in my hands.
At this moment, I noticed that her feet seemed to be a bit large. I compared them to my hand; her feet were
a few centimeters longer than mine. Hehe. "That's great! I don't actually like those tiny, loli-like feet. I think a real
young girl's body should have a more mature, older-sister-like appearance. Like, larger-sized feet." I
ran my fingers over each of her five bean-sized toes. The girl's big toe and second toe were basically level, while the other toes
were arranged in a stepped pattern.
The toes were naturally close together, arranged very neatly. Zhang Wenya's big toe was strawberry-
shaped, pointed at the top and rounded at the bottom, which was quite cute. Although the big toe was slightly large, it didn't disrupt the overall harmony at all. The other toes were oval-shaped.
There were no calluses on any of her toes, which meant she must have taken care of them regularly. Her toenails
must have been carefully trimmed as well.
It seemed unlikely that she was a dancer; women who dance usually have beautiful legs but unattractive feet. While playing
with her feet, I said to Zhang Wenya, "Thank you, woman, for not learning to dance, otherwise I wouldn't have had
so much fun today." Then I used my fingernails to scratch back and forth on Zhang Wenya's soft soles. If she were still alive
, she would surely be smiling as she retracts her foot. I lowered my head again to smell that scent: the girl's warmth and a hint of...
The fragrant odor of her feet once again brought me immense pleasure. A jolt of electricity coursed through me.
I removed her other boot, this time holding the shaft up to my nose to smell it.
First, a warm breath escaped, followed by the pleasant scent of fur reacting with sweat, and
the soft aroma of stockings. Clearly, the fur smell was stronger inside the boot. I tossed the boot aside and picked up her other
stockinged foot. I don't like stockings, but I was particularly drawn to these black ones. The shape and color of her jade-like feet
were faintly visible through the stockings, and the subtle, fleshy scent around me was intoxicating. I cupped her
feet in my hands and brought them to my nose. This time, the alluring smell of foot sweat was even stronger, and the scent of the stockings was also more pronounced. I
wiggled her feet from side to side, letting her big toes touch back and forth, like a pair of jade branches. Playing with a girl's feet is
the most important foreplay.
I set her feet down, bent down, unbuckled her belt, and pulled down her shorts. She was wearing
white embroidered panties, quite cute. And her black stockings were lace-trimmed! This surprised me;
they were so sexy. My penis immediately became erect again. My fingers hooked the lace trim of the stockings, slowly
rolling them down little by little. Unfortunately, the area where her thighs met was soaked with urine. This process made me restless.
Finally, I pulled them down to her toes; the stockings were a mess. After taking them off, I could finally see her
feet clearly.
In the moonlight, her feet looked delicate and translucent, her neatly trimmed round toenails painted with bright pink nail polish.
I remembered that Zhang Wenya wore sandals barefoot in the summer, but back then her toenails were painted
a blatant, flamboyant bright red, a color I found disgusting, so I hadn't really looked closely at her
insteps.
Her smooth, silky insteps reflected an ivory-like sheen, making one want to touch them. The entire instep
was a pale white, and you could vaguely see the veins that would never flow again. This pristine white expanse gradually transitioned
to pink and flesh-colored as it reached her toes. Each toe was as translucent and delicate as a scallion, turning pink as it descended.
The tips of her toes were equally smooth and adorable. Turning to look at her soles, the five rounded, smooth toes were separated by fine
, soft gaps, and the toe pads, with their peach-pink sheen, were exquisitely beautiful. The subtle lines on her soles emitted
a delightful, fleshy fragrance; her jade-like arches were exceptionally soft, and her smooth, egg-shaped heels were tinged with a light
pink, gradually fading to a lotus-white from her soles to her calves. Only a few calluses at the junction of her heels,
clearly from wearing high-heeled boots—the price of beauty, perhaps. I turned to her and said, "Woman, your
feet are so beautiful, you take good care of them. Am I the only one who's ever looked at them like this and praised them like this?
Even though your feet smell terrible, I'll still play with them without a care. You shouldn't have any
complaints about that, right?"
I opened my mouth and took half of her foot into my mouth. Although her feet were slender, they were still
narrow like other girls' feet, so it wasn't difficult to put them in my mouth. My tongue softly lingered on her sole, feeling
the sweat on her sole slowly dissolve in my saliva, and I could smell the refreshing scent of her feet. The fragrance of her spleen
. My tongue played with her five lively and adorable toes, the tip brushing against a rounded toe pad,
falling into the gap between the toes, and then moving to the next toe… I took her foot out of my mouth, the saliva on her toes
still clinging together, forming a beautiful arc between us.
I stuck out my tongue and licked her soft sole, tracing the lines of her foot repeatedly, the salty and pungent
smell of her sweat melting in my mouth. I bit her toes again, but not too hard, otherwise the police could use the teeth marks
to charge me. I held her slender feet, rubbing and playing with them like a child. It was like receiving a beloved
toy. But then again, not just those stinky feet, every part of this girl's body was
my plaything. She was no longer the arrogant young lady, but a beautiful corpse to be toyed with.
I took a can of condensed milk from my bag and squeezed the cream onto Zhang Wenya's soles. As the thick,
creamy substance flowed from her soles down her heels, I caught it on the sole with my tongue and licked it
clean. I squeezed more condensed milk between her toes, then put half of her foot in my mouth again, using my upper teeth
and... My tongue clamped tightly around her foot until it was filled with saliva, the condensed milk melting and overflowing my mouth. I pulled her foot
out slightly, then sucked the condensed milk flowing from her toes.
The aroma of cream combined with the stench of her feet… it was simply wonderful! I felt a sweet fragrance on my tongue and couldn't
help but bite into her sweet foot. My tongue roamed over the girl
's soft, smooth, pinkish-white sole, gently rubbing the fine lines on her instep. I even bit her delicate foot directly, pulling her foot back and forth by her ankle. Her sole and
instep, already thoroughly wet with saliva, made a "squeak" sound as my teeth scraped against them. I even scratched her sole
for a while.
Looking at these carefully cared-for and manicured feet, I think she could never have imagined that one day someone
she had bullied would abuse her proud feet like this. Well, I've spent enough time on these stinky feet
. It's time to look at the rest.
I tossed the jade-like feet aside and began to examine the upper body of the corpse. I pulled the corpse closer, letting her back rest against
my chest, and she sat on my lap. Her small head nestled softly against my shoulder, and I could still smell
the fresh scent of shampoo in her hair.
I hugged her from behind, bringing my face close to her ear and taking a deep breath of her unique fragrance—shampoo, a
touch of perfume, and the subtle scent of estrogen unique to teenage girls, especially those in love…
completely different from her foot odor, yet equally alluring. It was interesting; her upper
body had a heart-pounding fragrance, while her lower body had a seductive foot odor—a perfect combination.
Her current appearance was also amusing: her upper body was neatly dressed, but her lower body was only wearing a pair of wet underwear,
her thighs and feet bare. My penis became erect again, and with her heavy corpse sitting on my lap, her
little buttocks directly pressing against my erect penis, it felt uncomfortable. So I decided to act immediately. First, I would take off her
leather jacket. Taking it off from behind would be easier.
I pulled the zipper down from top to bottom, then pushed the corpse's back. The girl obediently bent over, and
I pulled her arms behind her back, yanking off her clothes.
After tossing them aside, I glanced around, then eagerly pulled the corpse's arms
back to my chest. I crossed her arms in front and placed them around her waist, then slipped my fingers
under the layers of her underwear. I hooked all the elasticated edges and lifted her arms, pulling the clothes down to her armpits. Of
course, the corpse wasn't cooperating, so I had to lift her limp arms high,
grabbing her wrists with one hand—just like before—and quickly pulling the hem with the other
, pulling up the entire pullover. With my other hand also helping, the still-fragrant clothes were all removed from her body.
After the clothes were off, the girl's head drooped limply to her chest, her hair hanging down in disarray
.
There was only one bra left. I unzipped the bra from behind, grabbed the shoulder straps, and pulled them
up along her slender arms. The girl's white arms naturally rose passively, and as the bra slipped off her wrists, her arms
immediately fell, hitting her thighs with a "smack." I laid the body flat, grabbed
the two thin straps of the girl's wet panties, pulled them down all the way to her feet, and threw them aside. Perfect,
now this beautiful and lovely corpse was presented to me naked.
The corpse's breasts were just as I had imagined, still high even when lying on her back, full, round, and elastic like solidified cream
, with rosy areolas taking up a fifth of the breast, and two firm,
small, round nipples on the peaks perfectly complementing them. I leaned down and flicked her nipples with my tongue,
the back and forth of the nipples causing the entire breast to tremble slightly. I gently bit her tender nipple and slowly lifted my head,
her entire breast rising like a mountain peak. I opened my teeth, and her breast fell back down, swaying incessantly,
reflecting a mesmerizing white hue in the moonlight.
My gaze continued downwards; her waist was slender and funnel-shaped, her abdomen smooth and without an ounce of fat, adorned
with a cute navel. Further down, I finally reached the girl's most private area. I parted her legs. Zhang Wenya
's pubic area was slightly raised, already creating a small bulge in her panties, and now it was finally clear.
There were light-colored triangular black pubic hairs there—she was still a young girl after all. Mature women should have much denser pubic hair here
. Zhang Wenya's pubic hair was arranged haphazardly, some sparse, some dense, some with
drops of urine still clinging to the tips. I pointed here and asked the corpse, "Woman, aren't you ashamed?" Of course, there was no response. I looked down
closely. Between her pubic hairs was a pinkish pubic mound, the natural color of a young girl, but sadly, it had been
used by countless men, and I wondered if it carried any sexually transmitted diseases. But with a condom, there was no need to worry too much.
I brought my face close to her vagina and immediately smelled a faint odor of urine. However, like foot odor, a girl
's urine smells much better than a man's, especially the urine of this pretty toy in my hand. I pressed two fingers
against her pubic hair on either side, and with a slight pull, her vaginal opening opened for me.
In the moonlight, I could see that the inside of her vagina was a tender pink, and above her vulva, I could see a small
clitoris, like a grape seed. I reached out and gently pricked the clitoris from below. If she were still alive, she would
moan and produce vaginal lubrication. But this was obviously useless against a corpse.
I noticed a thin stream constantly flowing from below her vagina, originating from a small slit under her clitoris.
A wicked thought suddenly occurred to me: I wanted to taste this thing's urine. It's embarrassing to admit, but this
is inherently perverted. But now she's my toy, I can do whatever I want with her, so I don't think too much about it.
I pursed my lips and pressed them against the girl's vulva. My tongue could already taste the salty, fishy smell of urine. I
sucked hard from the slit under her beautiful clitoris, and unsurprisingly, a large mouthful of urine came out. Zhang Wenya's muscles were relaxed after death,
including the sphincter muscles of her urethra; the fact that she could squeeze urine out with just one press was the best proof. I didn't spit it
out but slowly swirled it around in my mouth with my tongue before swallowing it. It was salty, sour, and fishy,
but the combination was surprisingly tempting.
It wasn't exactly delicious, but it was very stimulating. My penis hardened again. After I drank the urine,
there wasn't much left in her bladder; it all flowed down her slit to her anus. Actually, I did this for another reason
: it would be troublesome if she squeezed out urine again when I was having sex with her later, and it would also affect my mood.
Then I turned the corpse over and looked at her buttocks. This big buttock is quite beautiful, snow-white
, perky, and perfectly round, like a work of art. I pressed down on her two white buttocks and pushed them apart, revealing her
pink anus. Luckily, no feces had come out. I grabbed her calves and lifted her lower body,
lowering my head to kiss her anus, my tongue diverting the remaining urine in my mouth into it. Perfect
for utilizing waste, avoiding the need to rely on something else when I fucked her ass later because it was dry.
I turned the body back over, spreading her legs and leaving her there. Now we looked quite ridiculous. This
beautiful woman was completely naked, some hair covering her forehead and part of her face, her mouth slightly upturned, shamelessly sticking out her
pair of white breasts as if showing off, her thighs spread wide, revealing her secret place, with a stream of
urine flowing from her vagina. Her five toes were also pointing straight up at the sky, emitting a strong foot odor. And I was
neatly dressed, kneeling in front of her.
I unzipped my pants, pulled out my already erect penis, grabbed the corpse's ankles and hoisted them onto my shoulders
, then thrust into the girl's vagina. I naturally used a condom; although it wasn't as pleasurable, it avoided
the hassle of cleaning up afterwards. Fortunately, imported brand-name condoms felt almost the same with or without one. I showed no mercy as I
plunged into her vagina.
After all, she was dead, devoid of dignity or personality, just a pile of dead flesh, a soft
toy for my gratification; there was no need for tenderness. My penis slid into her narrow passage; it wasn't very
tight, and there was no hymen—I hadn't really expected that anyway. The hot penis pressed against the cool vaginal walls,
sending waves of pleasure through me like electric currents.
I arched my back, pulled out a bit, then thrust in again, pulled out, thrust in again, repeating this action
over and over, faster and faster, more and more pleasurable. Her vaginal opening gripped my penis tightly, each thrust creating
friction and pressure against the soft flesh, a sensation so pleasurable it was almost intoxicating.
I continued this, pulling her feet down from my shoulders and pressing her slightly
cool soles against my face, letting them stomp against my cheeks. I savored the soft touch of her feet
while inhaling the faint scent of her odor, waves of pleasure washing over me. I
thrust into her genitals again and again, quickly and forcefully, making "slap, slap" sounds. My penis rubbed against her clitoris
, the small clitoris moving in and out with each thrust. Zhang Wenya's head swayed from side to side as her body trembled
, as if shaking her head to the rhythm, her slightly open mouth and serene expression suggesting she was lost in ecstasy. Her long hair, pressed
beneath her, straightened and bent intermittently as she shook her head.
Her pair of healthy, full breasts rolled with the swaying of the corpse, the two restless nipples
bouncing back and forth on the white mounds of flesh. After about ten minutes of thrusting and playing with her feet, I almost convulsed as I thrust forward
, my enlarged penis forcing open the opening deep within the girl's cervix. Semen, like boiling, molten lava
, gushed out continuously, but unfortunately, it didn't directly enter the girl's warm uterus. Instead, it went into the condom.
After this intense ejaculation, I stopped, lying between her firm, white breasts, feeling the soft warmth
massaging my face. I dared not make any sudden movements, as the condom would slip off, leaving evidence.
I slightly raised my head and bit one of her nipples, licking and teasing it with my tongue; the tiny cherry danced on my tongue
. Heh, it's a pity this thing will never be of any real use again—for breastfeeding a baby. Since
that's the case, let me enjoy this nipple one last time. Gently nibbling at the soft toy, a layer of
sadness welled up inside me. I had deprived a girl of so many rights… I tried sucking a couple of times, of course no milk came out
, just to feel it, to think about how babies suckle… I straightened up and pressed and swirled her
breasts. The feeling of kneading those two large breasts in my hands was wonderful. I just never understood why her areolas were
so large, not at all like a young girl's. Actually, I prefer a girl's feet to her breasts,
but I still played with her chest for a long enough time before doing anything else.
I turned the corpse over, so she was lying face down on the ground. I lifted her slender waist from the side, pulling her up, and with my other
hand pushed her knees forward, positioning her in a kneeling, kowtowing position. Her anus, like a chrysanthemum,
was sticking up high, and semen from her vagina was sliding down her inner thighs, her arms limply draped at her sides.
This look was incredibly alluring! My fingers gently caressed her anus, feeling
the soft, undulating spiral folds of the areola . Of course, I needed to change the condom. Once ready, I raised my already prepared penis
, gripped Zhang Wenya's waist with both hands, and forcefully thrust it in. It was indeed very tight; even with the lubrication of urine,
it was still somewhat difficult to enter.
My penis slowly advanced inside, gradually widening her rectum. Judging from the tightness, it seemed the girl
usually only had sex with men from the front, not from behind. How interesting, quite particular and
principled. After she had basically adjusted, I began to thrust forcefully. Since it was even tighter, the friction between my penis and the vaginal walls
was more intense, and the itchy pleasure was more pronounced.
The corpse's buttocks were incredibly elastic; each forceful thrust would compress her buttocks into an
irregular shape, then quickly bounce back into two rounded halves with each thrust. The corpse's hands
trembled and rolled back and forth with the wave-like movements. After basically stretching her rectum open, my hands left her waist, as I no longer
needed to push.
My hands then moved to Zhang Wenya's feet. Although I couldn't see her feet, I could feel
the rows of creases on the soles of her feet caused by the angle between her ankles and soles. My fingers rubbed and wandered over her soles
, which was also quite entertaining. Finally, I ejaculated again, my semen filling the condom. Afterward,
I withdrew my now shrunken penis and lay down beside the corpse, panting heavily.
I turned to look at the kneeling corpse beside me, her buttocks raised high, her head bowed as if in a humble posture.
Grabbing the corpse's feet, I pulled them back without hesitation. Zhang Wenya fell to the ground with
a "thud," her feet bouncing and trembling twice. It was almost over. I turned
Zhang Wenya's body over and kissed her from head to toe again, even licking her feet for a while.
Okay, time to clean up. I got up and dressed. After surveying the surroundings, I took out
a specially made water bottle from my backpack and inserted the thin nozzle into the girl's vagina to clean it slightly. Then I turned the body over into a defecation position
, supporting Zhang Wenya's upper body with one hand and inserting the nozzle of the water bottle into the corpse's anus with the other. Although the police were
unlikely to find semen, it was still reassuring to clean it. I immediately sprinkled lime on the ground where I had violated the body. After spraying some air freshener, I covered it with soil. This way, even police dogs would have difficulty finding traces. Even if 　　the police eventually found
her body, I wouldn't let them find the semen to extract DNA so easily. 　　After the basic cleaning was completed, I put the body's clothes, shoes, and socks into a large bag, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and carried the naked body upside down 　　to the pre-dug pit. 　　Now I was supporting the body's large buttocks, her hindquarters facing forward and her head facing backward. Along the way, Zhang Wenya's 　　two feet swayed back and forth with each step, bumping against each other. Still so alluring. I touched her round, soft buttocks, 　　feeling a mix of emotions. When we arrived at the location, I placed the naked body into the pit, throwing her clothes in as well. 　　But I put her boots and lace stockings back into my bag. I was still somewhat unwilling. I picked up Zhang 　　Wenya's feet and continued to sniff, kiss, and lick them. One foot's condensed milk scent completely masked the odor, so I ignored it. 　　I completely absorbed the odor from the other foot, then threw it back into the pit. Looking at 　　Zhang Wenya, still displaying her beautiful feet, her vaginal opening open, her breasts erect, and her mouth slightly parted, I was filled with mixed emotions. 　　Whether she was once her parents' darling or an angel in some men's eyes, now she was just a corpse.

The corpse, a corpse whose entire body I had played with. I gently rubbed the corpse's breasts, recalling that wonderful
moment... until I felt I had wasted too much time.
After sprinkling lime on the corpse, I took out a folding entrenching tool from my bag and filled it in, carefully cleaning up any
signs of work, making sure the soil covering it looked natural. Then I sprayed air freshener. After that, I
sprayed all the places I had been, especially near the road, with diluted air freshener and a very light perfume
; I used several bottles because I had to spray the surrounding area as well. I
also carefully cleaned up my and Zhang Wenya's footprints with a broom. After about half an hour of careful work, it was
finally almost done. I went to the other side of the woods, walked backwards again to clean up the traces and spray the chemicals, then crossed
the road, rode my bicycle for a while, changed my clothes, and took a detour home. The surveillance cameras didn't capture
anything, including the one near the school.
Sure enough, the police came to investigate the matter the next day. Those days were really troublesome. Many people were questioned and investigated.
Especially her shady boyfriends and those who usually opposed her—I was only asked
a few simple questions, and that was it. Later, she was declared missing.
I treasured those leather boots and stockings, often sniffing them until the odor from her feet completely disappeared.
After that, they remained untouched. Until I went to university and got a girlfriend, those expensive imported boots ended up
on her feet. She was an understanding and gentle girl; she especially
loved those boots worth tens of thousands of yuan. Of course, I often abused her equally beautiful feet, listening to her soft, lovely moans,
and couldn't help but marvel at how wonderful life was. Sometimes I still think of Zhang Wenya. I know what I did
was wrong, but it's impossible to undo it now. I can only wish her peace.
[The End]

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