David Owain Hughes

Killing Ground

Debbie ran screaming, fearful for her life—she’d never felt such terror in all her thirty-eight years—as a balaclava-wearing, chainsaw-wielding madman chased her through the woods.

“Help! Help!”

Her breath came in ragged rips as tears cut dirty mascara tracks down her cheeks; her face and neck fully flushed. The rest of her body was ice-cold thanks to the flimsy, see-through baby doll dress she wore, which barely covered her bald pussy and ample backside. The fabric pricked at her stiff nipples, sending a tremor through her clit.

Never had she felt so alive as she did right now. Yes, she was terrified out of her mind, but exhilarated at the same time.

It’s only a game, remember? Boy, was Patrick right about this.

At the thought of her husband’s name, Debbie glanced back at the towering, shadowy figure lumbering after her through the October mist. An owl hooted from somewhere up above, and the full moon—high in the sky, its beams cutting through the naked, gnarled tree branches—drenched the leaf-scattered forest in a ghostly hue.

“Going to get you, whore!”

Debbie trembled at the thought of being captured by this maniac. Determined not to break character, she could only scream to cover her excitement.

Her dress snagged on some brush as she tore through it, the roaring of his chainsaw driving her on.

She’d watched him remove its steel teeth, before her head start, but this did little to calm her hammering heart. She’d still be at his mercy if he caught her.


Two nights prior, on October 29, Patrick had proposed they come to their remote cabin to try and rekindle their marriage “before it’s too late.” As far as Debbie was concerned, it had been dead in the water for quite some time already – their sex life was non-existent. Not that it had ever been earth-shattering anyway.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, stoking the fire, “that I think will help us get back on track. I’ve never been honest with you, or myself.”

“If you’ve cheated or whatever, I don’t think it matters – I’m not in love with you anymore, Patrick.”

“Please, just listen to me. I know I’ve never been attentive to your needs…”

Well, I’ve come this far, she thought. Might as well listen to what he has to say.

“I could never tell you about my own desires, what drives me, because I thought it would scare you off. But now, I’ve got nothing to lose. Are you willing to give me one last shot?”

“I don’t know, Patrick…”

It was then that he pulled the pink baby doll dress from behind his back.

“I want to play a game.”

Like a good opening sentence to a story, his pitch drew her in. She felt an involuntary twinge between her legs, blushing as he produced a balaclava.

“Will you be my victim this Halloween? My scream queen, running half-naked through the woods?”

“A chase?” she gasped, freaked out and turned on at the same time.

For the past several Halloweens, Patrick had brought her here, and not once had he ever been this naughty. Such filth and perversion! It was a side to him she hadn’t even known existed.

She loved it and he could tell.

“Wait, there’s something else…”


He revved his chainsaw as he drew near, thrusting it at Debbie like a macabre hard-on.

“Please. Don’t hurt me, Mr. Killer,” she pouted, lifting the hem of her dress, “I’ll do anything…”

Debbie was impressed by how hammy her acting was – like something straight out of an eighties B-movie.

“Wanna fuck me..? I could suck your cock…”

She fluttered her eyelashes, sliding a hand between her legs as she thought about gagging on his fat prick.

From a tree to her right, which was marked with a red X, Debbie knew they had reached the ‘Killing Ground’, which was where Patrick wanted it to take place.

Debbie back away slowly, his saw chugging idly between them. Oil and diesel hung heavy in the air, turning her on even further.

“I think it’s time you found out just how kinky I am, Patrick.”

She spoke loud enough to be heard over the approaching chainsaw, its proximity sending tremors through her body.

Suddenly she staggered, erupting in spontaneous orgasm as she turned to run away.

It was then that, like a good ‘Final Girl’, she tripped over and played at trying to get up.

“Oh, no!” she squealed, leaves and twigs entangled in her hair as she crawled and squirmed about. Her tits popped loose and she rolled onto her back, writing in the underbrush. Feeling the thorns against her skin, each scratch and cut pushed her closer to another climax.

“Please… No!”

The roaring chainsaw now inches from her face, she feared he actually might kill her. But no sooner did the fear pass through her, he dropped the saw on the ground beside him.

It was then that he produced a large kitchen knife from behind his back.

Dropping to his knees before her, he made short work of what remained of her ragged dress, exposing her body completely. She gasped as the cool night air danced across her nipples—hardening them further still—and she climaxed again before he could even get his cock out.

Ugh!” she cried as he forced his girth into her, fearing she wouldn’t be able to take him all the way in.

Holding the knife against her throat, he used his free hand to grope her jiggling tits, grunting like an animal as he relentlessly pounded her pussy.

“Don’t… Stop…”

A small rivulet of blood had by now begun to trickle from where the blade grazed her neck.

Yesss!” she screamed between gritted teeth as yet another orgasm enveloped her. She ground her hips against him and wailed like never before.

Suddenly he pulled back, the knife still glinting in his hand. She shuddered as the cool metal slid across her breast, menacing her nipple with its edge. He resumed slamming into her just as forcefully as before.

Her hands balled into fists, tearing at the grass beneath her as she came yet again. Juices gushed forth and she was spent, certain she couldn’t take any more.

It was then that he leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “Shall we try for another?”

His breath smelled of mint.

Debbie dug her fingernails into his back, feeling his solid muscles as he pumped away, coming soon after. She felt his spunk explode inside of her, massive dick throbbing as he collapsed with a grunt.

Over her attacker’s shoulder, she watched as Patrick rose from of the bushes, camera in hand.

Happy Halloween, Patrick, my love

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