yourtrophyhead
Forum Regular
I'm all for Bieber as well. Lil' punk is so full of himself. Does the service include discrete delivery of his preserved and mounted head and genitals as trophies?
Celebrity snuff service; an interactive story
yourtrophyhead
Forum Regular
Just saw the pic of Ludwig ... yes, very nice trophy head, indeed!
From all the choices, there seemed to be one favorite to snuff. So here he is. I may have to snuff a couple of the others later.
Part 2: The Captive
When Dmitri had heard from Josh what they were being paid for this next job, he'd gotten a sinking feeling in his gut. This would be risky. When Josh told him who it was he had to kidnap he nearly walked out. Of course given what he and Josh had been doing, he knew quitting was not an option for him. Josh would pretty quickly make sure he couldn't talk to anybody about what they'd done. But the boys he had been getting were easy to make disappear. Somebody so surrounded by handlers and security? Not to mention paparazzi. This would be impossible to do without being caught. But Josh had made it clear that not doing it was also not an option. So Dmitri treated it as the puzzle it was and in the end it turned out to be solvable.
With some questions (and some money) in the right places Dmitri learned that like any eighteen-year-old who was surrounded 24/7, the kid he was after liked to disappear occasionally. His entourage would cover, but they knew he had a retreat in the desert, although only a very select few knew where. They were the same select few who knew what he did there, and what kind of boys he liked to do it with. Amusingly those boys were always blond, smooth, and young. The kid liked himself a lot it seemed.
So Dmitri used other channels to get to one of them. It took a large down payment, but the boy agreed pretty easily. Of course there were threats to him and certain of his family members as well. *He was supplied with an easy-to-administer sleeping agent, and an untraceable cell to contact Dmitri the next time he was taken to the retreat.
He had called last night, and again this morning to say he was on his way, and now a dusty green Honda pulled up to the nondescript warehouse where Dmitri was waiting. The boy driving did look quite a bit like his prey. Good. And the car was the one the kid used to get to his retreat. Also good. The trunk popped open. Dmitri lifted the lid and looked at the sleeping form inside. He lifted the left arm and pulled the sleeve back: "Believe," an owl. He checked the right arm and saw the Japanese character.
"Oh it's him alright," said a voice over his shoulder. There was a high-pitched giggle. The boy was nervous. Dmitri turned and looked at him. Their eyes locked. It was the first and only time they would meet. Dmitri kept the connections that would lead back to him as few as possible.
"Help me get him inside."
They carried the sleeping figure inside and laid it on a long, heavy wooden table on one side of a mostly empty, concrete-floored space. A beam of sunlight from a high window shone directly on it. The chest rose and fell, the eyes stayed closed.
The boy standing next to him ran his fingers lightly over Dmitri's forearm and up over his bicep.
"Fuck, these are great tats, man! Better than his!" He giggled, "I can't believe I did this."
Dmitri looked the boy up and down, slim, tight jeans, white t tight against a slim chest. The eyes sparkled. Suddenly the boy leaned in and kissed Dmitri. Dmitri wrapped his strong arms around the boy and pulled him tight. He opened his lips and let the warm tongue slide down his throat. The boys hands were running up and down his back. When the boy came up for air, Dmitri put a hand on either side of the shining face. He looked the boy deep in the eyes.
"You did it," Dmitri said, and snapped the head to one side, breaking the boy's neck with a sharp crack. The light went out in the eyes, and Dmitri tossed the body into a heap in a corner until later. Too bad he couldn't have had more fun with the boy, Dmitri thought, but he was disposable, and Dmitri was on a schedule.
He turned back to the form on the table. He needed to prep this one for the client. And besides, why play with a wannabe when you had the real thing? He took scissors from a table of tools by the wall, and slowly began cutting off the long-sleeved t, relishing every centimeter of skin as it was exposed. It was the kind of skin you only saw on younger guys, turning luminous gold the sun. The tiny gold hairs were invisible unless they caught the light. Dmitri ran his palms over the chest and belly, the slim hard pecs and abs. You've been working out since your early days, he thought. Not quite such a little boy now.
Next came the shoes. Then the jeans were cut away. The boxer briefs were light blue, and the dick lay a little to one side. Dmitri ran his hand over it, feeling it flaccid through the thin material. Finally even that was cut away, and the kid lay naked on the table. Dust motes sparkled in the beam of sun. Dmitri sighed and ran a forefinger from the hollow of the collarbone down the line across chest and belly, through a small patch of golden hair and along the dick to its tip. The body didn't respond. Other than the slight rise and fall of the chest and the warmth, it could have been a corpse. Dmitri's own dick got hard and tight in his jeans as he went to get a pan of warm water, a cloth and some scented soap.
Slowly and carefully he washed the body, starting with the crown tattoo over the right collar bone. He felt the skin pull under the cloth, saw the body shine and glisten with the water. He pulled the arms up and washed the bit of hair in the pits. He leaned down and inhaled the clean smell. Bit by bit he massaged the balls and dick with the warm wet cloth, his own dick straining and throbbing as the body continued to just lay wherever he moved it. He turned it over and washed the back, the legs, the feet. By this time pre-cum was staining the front of his jeans. He washed the ass crack, and ran the cloth around the rose colored bud of the ass hole. Still the body lay, arms out to the sides, head to the left, eyes closed.
Dmitri put the pan back and dried the body with a large towel, turning it over on its back. Then he finally began to take off his own clothes. Josh knew that he had his fun with the boys he procured. Especially when they lay drugged and still. It didn't matter really. None of them would be around much longer. Even with this one, Dmitri knew the client wouldn't notice any difference. This was not a virgin ass, he knew that, although it still looked fairly tight. He climbed up on the table, spit in his hand and smeared the spit over his throbbing dick. He lifted the legs over his shoulders and spread the cheeks. He thrust deep with the first thrust. He thought he caught a bit of a wince pass over the boyish face, and there was definitely a sharp intake of breath. Other than that though, the only motion in the body beneath him was the slow rocking back and forth of his thrusting.
Dmitri tried to take his time, but he had been thinking about this for more than two months now and his dick was straining for release. At last he gave up and pulled his dick out of the tight ass. Thick ropes of cum sprayed over the golden belly and chest, shining in the sun beam. Dmitri grunted in pleasure as the ecstasy ran in waves through his body. He collapsed across the still sleeping form.
He couldn't rest long though. He retrieved the pan of water and cleaned the mess he had made off the body, then put his own clothes back on. He stepped outside the warehouse door, lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Josh answered on the first ring.
"We did it," Dmitri said, "We've got Bieber."*
Discussion points for part 3:
Who is it that is coming to snuff Bieber? I have a really good idea of who I want to do it, but if you can convince me your choice is better ...
How should Bieber be left for his killer? Tied to the table? Hung upside down? In a cage? Chained in a corner? Just left alone in a pitch dark warehouse? What should it be like when he wakes up?
Part 2: The Captive
When Dmitri had heard from Josh what they were being paid for this next job, he'd gotten a sinking feeling in his gut. This would be risky. When Josh told him who it was he had to kidnap he nearly walked out. Of course given what he and Josh had been doing, he knew quitting was not an option for him. Josh would pretty quickly make sure he couldn't talk to anybody about what they'd done. But the boys he had been getting were easy to make disappear. Somebody so surrounded by handlers and security? Not to mention paparazzi. This would be impossible to do without being caught. But Josh had made it clear that not doing it was also not an option. So Dmitri treated it as the puzzle it was and in the end it turned out to be solvable.
With some questions (and some money) in the right places Dmitri learned that like any eighteen-year-old who was surrounded 24/7, the kid he was after liked to disappear occasionally. His entourage would cover, but they knew he had a retreat in the desert, although only a very select few knew where. They were the same select few who knew what he did there, and what kind of boys he liked to do it with. Amusingly those boys were always blond, smooth, and young. The kid liked himself a lot it seemed.
So Dmitri used other channels to get to one of them. It took a large down payment, but the boy agreed pretty easily. Of course there were threats to him and certain of his family members as well. *He was supplied with an easy-to-administer sleeping agent, and an untraceable cell to contact Dmitri the next time he was taken to the retreat.
He had called last night, and again this morning to say he was on his way, and now a dusty green Honda pulled up to the nondescript warehouse where Dmitri was waiting. The boy driving did look quite a bit like his prey. Good. And the car was the one the kid used to get to his retreat. Also good. The trunk popped open. Dmitri lifted the lid and looked at the sleeping form inside. He lifted the left arm and pulled the sleeve back: "Believe," an owl. He checked the right arm and saw the Japanese character.
"Oh it's him alright," said a voice over his shoulder. There was a high-pitched giggle. The boy was nervous. Dmitri turned and looked at him. Their eyes locked. It was the first and only time they would meet. Dmitri kept the connections that would lead back to him as few as possible.
"Help me get him inside."
They carried the sleeping figure inside and laid it on a long, heavy wooden table on one side of a mostly empty, concrete-floored space. A beam of sunlight from a high window shone directly on it. The chest rose and fell, the eyes stayed closed.
The boy standing next to him ran his fingers lightly over Dmitri's forearm and up over his bicep.
"Fuck, these are great tats, man! Better than his!" He giggled, "I can't believe I did this."
Dmitri looked the boy up and down, slim, tight jeans, white t tight against a slim chest. The eyes sparkled. Suddenly the boy leaned in and kissed Dmitri. Dmitri wrapped his strong arms around the boy and pulled him tight. He opened his lips and let the warm tongue slide down his throat. The boys hands were running up and down his back. When the boy came up for air, Dmitri put a hand on either side of the shining face. He looked the boy deep in the eyes.
"You did it," Dmitri said, and snapped the head to one side, breaking the boy's neck with a sharp crack. The light went out in the eyes, and Dmitri tossed the body into a heap in a corner until later. Too bad he couldn't have had more fun with the boy, Dmitri thought, but he was disposable, and Dmitri was on a schedule.
He turned back to the form on the table. He needed to prep this one for the client. And besides, why play with a wannabe when you had the real thing? He took scissors from a table of tools by the wall, and slowly began cutting off the long-sleeved t, relishing every centimeter of skin as it was exposed. It was the kind of skin you only saw on younger guys, turning luminous gold the sun. The tiny gold hairs were invisible unless they caught the light. Dmitri ran his palms over the chest and belly, the slim hard pecs and abs. You've been working out since your early days, he thought. Not quite such a little boy now.
Next came the shoes. Then the jeans were cut away. The boxer briefs were light blue, and the dick lay a little to one side. Dmitri ran his hand over it, feeling it flaccid through the thin material. Finally even that was cut away, and the kid lay naked on the table. Dust motes sparkled in the beam of sun. Dmitri sighed and ran a forefinger from the hollow of the collarbone down the line across chest and belly, through a small patch of golden hair and along the dick to its tip. The body didn't respond. Other than the slight rise and fall of the chest and the warmth, it could have been a corpse. Dmitri's own dick got hard and tight in his jeans as he went to get a pan of warm water, a cloth and some scented soap.
Slowly and carefully he washed the body, starting with the crown tattoo over the right collar bone. He felt the skin pull under the cloth, saw the body shine and glisten with the water. He pulled the arms up and washed the bit of hair in the pits. He leaned down and inhaled the clean smell. Bit by bit he massaged the balls and dick with the warm wet cloth, his own dick straining and throbbing as the body continued to just lay wherever he moved it. He turned it over and washed the back, the legs, the feet. By this time pre-cum was staining the front of his jeans. He washed the ass crack, and ran the cloth around the rose colored bud of the ass hole. Still the body lay, arms out to the sides, head to the left, eyes closed.
Dmitri put the pan back and dried the body with a large towel, turning it over on its back. Then he finally began to take off his own clothes. Josh knew that he had his fun with the boys he procured. Especially when they lay drugged and still. It didn't matter really. None of them would be around much longer. Even with this one, Dmitri knew the client wouldn't notice any difference. This was not a virgin ass, he knew that, although it still looked fairly tight. He climbed up on the table, spit in his hand and smeared the spit over his throbbing dick. He lifted the legs over his shoulders and spread the cheeks. He thrust deep with the first thrust. He thought he caught a bit of a wince pass over the boyish face, and there was definitely a sharp intake of breath. Other than that though, the only motion in the body beneath him was the slow rocking back and forth of his thrusting.
Dmitri tried to take his time, but he had been thinking about this for more than two months now and his dick was straining for release. At last he gave up and pulled his dick out of the tight ass. Thick ropes of cum sprayed over the golden belly and chest, shining in the sun beam. Dmitri grunted in pleasure as the ecstasy ran in waves through his body. He collapsed across the still sleeping form.
He couldn't rest long though. He retrieved the pan of water and cleaned the mess he had made off the body, then put his own clothes back on. He stepped outside the warehouse door, lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Josh answered on the first ring.
"We did it," Dmitri said, "We've got Bieber."*
Discussion points for part 3:
Who is it that is coming to snuff Bieber? I have a really good idea of who I want to do it, but if you can convince me your choice is better ...
How should Bieber be left for his killer? Tied to the table? Hung upside down? In a cage? Chained in a corner? Just left alone in a pitch dark warehouse? What should it be like when he wakes up?
Last edited:
yourtrophyhead
Forum Regular
Bieber is left in a cage, wrists bound behind his back, dog collar around his neck, gag in his pretty mouth. In walks Eminem, 
ready to make this punk pay for what he's done to the music industry.
ready to make this punk pay for what he's done to the music industry.
HangTime
Forum Resident
Bieber is naked in a cage, arms chained behind his back. He's wearing headphones that are piping in the worst music known to man, his own singing. Whoever the snuffer is better get there quick before Justin goes mad!
And strangles himself with the cord from the headphones. And what would be the fun in that??
Last edited:
Pyro Yoshi
Forum Regular
Whatever you do, include some eye gouging or facial mutilation. Why? Because quite frankly I think Justin Beiber is ugly. A new face would do him a lot of good.
He shouldn't be forced to listen to his own music, because I can think of something that is just slightly worse: Ke$ha. Good god her music is terrible.
He shouldn't be forced to listen to his own music, because I can think of something that is just slightly worse: Ke$ha. Good god her music is terrible.
mysteryman55
Forum Newcomer
he'll be bound and gagged, and his manager, carly rae jepsen, one direction, justin timberlake and selena gomez walk in, and tortures him
HangTime
Forum Resident
And strangles himself with the cord from the headphones. And what would be the fun in that??
He won't be able to strangle himself. He'll be in a small cage allowing for no movement, and remember, his arms are chained behind him.
Hmmmmm. I would never have thought of him.
mtndudesf
Forum Regular
Snuffing Kobe Bryant would be fun.
Disclaimer for Part 3: this is a work of social satire and is not intended to suggest that any of the characters depicted here actually do any of these things in real life. Including breathing. (Just in case you-will-soon-know-whose computers are listening in.)
Part 3: A Thoughtful Gift
Justin lay on his side, his hands tied behind his back, some kind of ball in his mouth. His knees were drawn up, and the blindfold covering his eyes was damp from tears. He was naked, he knew. And there was something on his crotch, but he couldn't tell what. He could tell from feeling the bars against his skin that he was in a cage, and that it was small enough to prevent him from standing. From the sound he could tell he was in a large space. A sound system at one end was blasting his song "Swag So Mean" over and over and over.
He was trying desperately to remember what had happened. He'd taken one of his boys to the retreat in the old Honda he used for cover, but that was about all he remembered. It must have been the boy that brought him here. He must have been drugged. Suddenly the music shut off and lights came on. He could see the light leaking around the edges of the blindfold. He heard footsteps and giggles.
"Walk straight damn you!"
"I can't see, damn you! You have me blindfolded!"
Justin knew that voice! At least who it might be. Maybe this was all a joke.
"I want it to be a surprise. Just hold my hand and follow me."
"Shit, that shit was strong."
More giggling, closer now.
"Ok. Now stand here and don't move."
Justin heard hands fumbling with the lock on the cage. The door opened.*A hand grabbed his elbow and pulled him from the cage and to his feet. Hands on his shoulders positioned him. The blindfold was ripped off. Across from him he could see the blindfold come off a familiar face. It was! Timberlake! This must be some kind of joke.
Surprised eyes looked him up and down, and then the star doubled over laughing.
"That is AWESOME dude! You got me the Biebs! You got me his dick! In a fucking box! Zuck you are amazing, dude!"
He had his arm around another figure now. One with dark curly hair.
Zuck? Zuckerberg?
Justin*looked down at his own crotch. What he'd been feeling was a box, wrapped in shiny green paper with a red bow on the top.
Justin saw their eyes were shining and a little wild. They were on something. Cocaine probably.
"I know how you, uh, feel about him, you know. And, by the way, I know how he feels about you too."
Justin blushed. Had Zuckerberg hacked his web searches?
"Can I open it now? Please, please, pretty please?" More giggles.
Timberlake lifted the lid off the box and looked inside. Justin's blush deepened. And his dick started to grow hard. Timberlake was the first person he'd ever jacked off to. The hand grabbed his dick. The bright eyes looked into his own. A fingernail traced around his right nipple.
"Biebs, Biebs, Biebs. I've been watching you. There's just something about you. Your voice, your eyes, your lips."
A finger traced his throat and his mouth.
"Something that makes me so hard."
Justin could see a growing bulge in the tight pants.
"Something that makes me want to ..."
The eyes and the voice got harder. The curly-headed guy came up from behind and put his arms around Timberlake.
"C'mon JT, let's get started with the fun."
"Biebs is already having fun, he might just enjoy this."
He pulled hard on Justin's dick as he walked away. Justin howled around the ball gag in his mouth.
"You might want to get out of this," Zuckerberg said, tugging on Timberlake's shirt. There was a manic giggle.
"Right. Don't wanna mess up my clothes."
It was then that Justin focused on where they were headed. A long table against the wall. Full of tools. Most of them were sharp.
"See, I promised you a great guys' weekend in Vegas for Christmas, didn't I?"
Justin's piss flooded the box.
Question for part 4: What tool, device, implement, is Timberlake going to pick up from the table to use on Bieber? What is he going to do to him? Is Zuck going to help? With what? How much is Bieber going to enjoy and/or deserve it?
Part 3: A Thoughtful Gift
Justin lay on his side, his hands tied behind his back, some kind of ball in his mouth. His knees were drawn up, and the blindfold covering his eyes was damp from tears. He was naked, he knew. And there was something on his crotch, but he couldn't tell what. He could tell from feeling the bars against his skin that he was in a cage, and that it was small enough to prevent him from standing. From the sound he could tell he was in a large space. A sound system at one end was blasting his song "Swag So Mean" over and over and over.
He was trying desperately to remember what had happened. He'd taken one of his boys to the retreat in the old Honda he used for cover, but that was about all he remembered. It must have been the boy that brought him here. He must have been drugged. Suddenly the music shut off and lights came on. He could see the light leaking around the edges of the blindfold. He heard footsteps and giggles.
"Walk straight damn you!"
"I can't see, damn you! You have me blindfolded!"
Justin knew that voice! At least who it might be. Maybe this was all a joke.
"I want it to be a surprise. Just hold my hand and follow me."
"Shit, that shit was strong."
More giggling, closer now.
"Ok. Now stand here and don't move."
Justin heard hands fumbling with the lock on the cage. The door opened.*A hand grabbed his elbow and pulled him from the cage and to his feet. Hands on his shoulders positioned him. The blindfold was ripped off. Across from him he could see the blindfold come off a familiar face. It was! Timberlake! This must be some kind of joke.
Surprised eyes looked him up and down, and then the star doubled over laughing.
"That is AWESOME dude! You got me the Biebs! You got me his dick! In a fucking box! Zuck you are amazing, dude!"
He had his arm around another figure now. One with dark curly hair.
Zuck? Zuckerberg?
Justin*looked down at his own crotch. What he'd been feeling was a box, wrapped in shiny green paper with a red bow on the top.
Justin saw their eyes were shining and a little wild. They were on something. Cocaine probably.
"I know how you, uh, feel about him, you know. And, by the way, I know how he feels about you too."
Justin blushed. Had Zuckerberg hacked his web searches?
"Can I open it now? Please, please, pretty please?" More giggles.
Timberlake lifted the lid off the box and looked inside. Justin's blush deepened. And his dick started to grow hard. Timberlake was the first person he'd ever jacked off to. The hand grabbed his dick. The bright eyes looked into his own. A fingernail traced around his right nipple.
"Biebs, Biebs, Biebs. I've been watching you. There's just something about you. Your voice, your eyes, your lips."
A finger traced his throat and his mouth.
"Something that makes me so hard."
Justin could see a growing bulge in the tight pants.
"Something that makes me want to ..."
The eyes and the voice got harder. The curly-headed guy came up from behind and put his arms around Timberlake.
"C'mon JT, let's get started with the fun."
"Biebs is already having fun, he might just enjoy this."
He pulled hard on Justin's dick as he walked away. Justin howled around the ball gag in his mouth.
"You might want to get out of this," Zuckerberg said, tugging on Timberlake's shirt. There was a manic giggle.
"Right. Don't wanna mess up my clothes."
It was then that Justin focused on where they were headed. A long table against the wall. Full of tools. Most of them were sharp.
"See, I promised you a great guys' weekend in Vegas for Christmas, didn't I?"
Justin's piss flooded the box.
Question for part 4: What tool, device, implement, is Timberlake going to pick up from the table to use on Bieber? What is he going to do to him? Is Zuck going to help? With what? How much is Bieber going to enjoy and/or deserve it?
Last edited:
iceTruck
Forum Newcomer
Nice story! Super hot. 
Zuckerberg should help, would be hot if he and JT like kissed and were all over each other for this.
Justin should enjoy as much of this as possible. He should die happy and hard. And he deserves it. Why else would he make that fucking music, if it wasn't for someone to come kill and torture him?
Zuckerberg should help, would be hot if he and JT like kissed and were all over each other for this.
Justin should enjoy as much of this as possible. He should die happy and hard. And he deserves it. Why else would he make that fucking music, if it wasn't for someone to come kill and torture him?
HangTime
Forum Resident
How about a stage mike like Bieber uses, and use it to fuck him with! Maybe plugged in at the time.
Apparently some guys were planning to castrate and snuff Bieber for real. They were just too stupid to get it done.
http://www.tmz.com/2012/12/12/justin-bieber-murder-castration-plot/
http://www.tmz.com/2012/12/12/justin-bieber-murder-castration-plot/
yourtrophyhead
Forum Regular
They were going to strangle him with a paisley necktie and then use pruning shears on his jewels & deliver his testicles to the guy who ordered the killing! Whew!!! And we thought this was wild fantasy!!!
