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This story was done with the help of Damion St. James. WARNING!!!!!!! It's kind of nasty. If you don't like high school girls getting raped and killed by their boyfriends, read no further.

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Seventeen-year-old Alex Fletcher waited in his Mercedes-Benz 280 SL sports car outside of Emily Quisalski's house, a Victorian four-story grand estate in the "ritzy" neighborhood of the northwest quarter of town, waiting for her to come out. He was a handsome-looking rabbit with greyish-tan fur and slicked-back black hair with a prominent widow's peak that would become more prominent later in life. The 280 SL was given to him by his father as a 16th birthday present. Alex loved the car, and even though it was technically only big enough for two people, with the top down he often managed to fit all three of his friends in it for joyrides about town. But tonight, he only had one passenger to pick up. And much to his annoyance, she was taking her sweet time.

Finally she emerged. Emily Quisalski, or "Em" as she was called amongst her cheerleader friends, exited the front door of the house. Alex frowned a bit. Mr. Quisalski was a business partner of his father, and for some reason the two wanted to see him and Emily get together. Alex found the whole idea sickening, although Emily was pretty attractive, for a girl, and her bubble-headed personality didn't annoy him too much.

She had the perfect flawless Barbie-doll look, and the perfect shoes, makeup, everything. Her biggest assets was she was an all around deadly weapon - great legs, nice tits, beautiful face and tail, and she was smart and rich. And at the moment, she was babbling away on a cell phone, no doubt with one of her equally airheaded cheerleader friends. As she approached, he put on his famous roguish smirk that she and the other girls in school seemed to like, and leaned over and opened the passenger's side door for her.

"Oh-magawd, you are driving a Mercedes?" she asked incredulously, turning off the cell and putting it into her purse. She slipped into the car.

"No, it's a Buick," Alex said with a frown. "Close the door. And buckle up." Without waiting for her to do so, he grinned and stepped on the gas, speeding away from the curb.

Emily didn't seem to notice, and casually shut the door as the car sped off down the street, buckling herself in. "Mercedes are fine if you want the cheaper imports. I keep forgetting there are people that actually buy these things," she said.

He looked at her. "You kidding? This thing was pretty expensive. My dad had to get it custom painted in my favorite shade of green: money!"

He laughed at his own joke. Normally he had his friends around to laugh at his jokes, but when he was alone he tended to do the laughing himself, and being with Emily Quisalski was roughly the same as being alone, since she seemed to be little more than a blow-up doll with primitive brain functions.

He'd been dating Emily long enough to know that she didn't like him very much. And the feeling was pretty mutual. She openly disliked him because he wasn't Polish, and his family was "new money," and she just had a thing against rabbits for some reason. Nevertheless, Alex was determined to remain her boyfriend for as long as possible, just in case she ever decided to put out, so he'd have something to brag to his friends about.

"Daddy got me a Bentley," she said out of nowhere, kicking back a little and showing off her legs.

"Why, what was wrong with the Jaguar?" Alex asked, glancing over at her, and finding it impossible not to glance down at her legs.

"A bird crapped on it," she replied. She let the skirt go up further, and Alex felt the beginnings of an erection starting to form in his pants. Tonight just might be the night.

Deciding not to comment on how utterly wasteful such a thing was, Alex instead said, "I just don't like Brit cars. German cars, oh, ja baby, they're the scheise!" He laughed again, turning the corner and heading towards the high school.

"Well, I refuse to drive German cars," Emily said. "My grandmother got thrown into a concentration camp in World War II. But I suppose there is a certain appeal to them."

Tiring of this conversation already, Alex turned on the car stereo which began to play Madonna. At the moment the song was her "Like a Prayer." "Hope you don't mind some tunes," he said.

"Well, you're not a total loss after all," Emily said, smiling. "You've got good taste in music."

Alex smiled. He enjoyed compliments. And he was determined to keep being a gracious date, because he wanted tonight to be the night he finally bedded this damn little tease. They'd been dating for a little over a month, if you considered him always visiting her house and she never his "dating." Finally, he saw the high school and turned off the road, cutting off another driver and chuckling as he heard the irate motorist screech to a halt and honk his horn.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Emily cried, hanging on for dear life.

"Sorry," he said, not really meaning it. He pulled into the school parking lot across from the gym. A few other couples were getting out of their cars and heading into the gym, where the dance was being held. He recognized a few of them, and, much to his dismay, so did Emily. This meant a most unwelcome return of the cell phone.

Sure enough, Emily gasped and took the phone out and immediately dialed. "Jessica? Oh yeah! Omigawd are you here? Yeah! Look who just showed up. No they are up at the point. No. Dylan and Lance. Yeah! Oh my god can you believe those fags showing up at our dance...together?! Oh I hope they don't touch the punchbowl I don't want to get their germs or anything. No way! They're using the Betty Klein punchbowl? Ohmagwd, thats so last year!"

She continued to ramble on mindlessly. Alex tuned her out as he searched vainly for an empty parking close to the building, but found none. He scowled, realizing he'd missed all the best spaces because Emily made him wait outside her house while she fixed her hair for twenty minutes.

Finally he managed to find a parking space at the very back of the lot and pulled in, shutting the motor off. He did his best to tune Emily out as he waited for her to get off the cell. Someone tapped on the driver's side window, and he looked over and saw Fabian, his best friend, a big-boned rabbit who was well on his way to being genuinely fat. Finally, someone I actually want to talk to, he thought, and rolled his window down.

"Hey, man," Fabian said, grinning, "we saw ya pull in, we're gonna spike the punch!" Poor, eager, stupid Fabian. Loudly announcing his prank for all to hear, thereby completely negating the entire thing.

"We" in this instance meant Alex's other two friends, Biff and Marty. They appeared on the passenger's side of the car, each with a 12-pack of beer under one arm, grinning down at Emily. Biff, who for some unfathomable reason insisted wearing 3-D glasses all the time was "cool" blew kisses at her. She made a disgusted face and flipped him off.

"I thought they took out the garbage on Wednesdays here. God I don't like Alex's friends," she said into the phone. "Yeah, I'll see you inside. Bye!" She finally hung up and got out of the car, making Biff and Marty step back to avoid being hit in the knees by the swinging door. "You boys want to make a quick fifty? Mind taking those homos out for a one way ride away from this place? I want to get to the food before they contaminate it."

Biff blew a raspberry at her, and she flipped him off. Marty just chewed on the unlit match he always had in his mouth. "Get lost, you comic book geek rejects," she sneered at them.

Alex got out on his side. "You guys go on ahead," he said. He wanted some time alone with Emily, to try and loosen her up a bit. The other three teens nodded and turned, hurrying off towards the gym. Aside from them and the couples who had been getting out of their cars when Alex pulled in there was no one else in the parking lot. And in a minute they'd all be inside, and Alex would be alone with his girl.

"So, Em," he said, using her nickname for the first time in a long while. Usually, he called her by her full first name, something he knew annoyed her. "You wanna hang out here for a while? I'm not really one for crowded parties, myself."

"Sure, that sounds fine. Besides, looks like you're a little stiff in the trousers there," she giggled, pointing.

He smirked. She'd noticed his arousal, then. Good. This was going to be easy. "Well, it's a bit difficult not to be, unless I was a fag," he said. Inwardly, he was hitting himself for that, but he'd learned in the last several weeks to indulge Emily's homophobia. If she knew he and his friends fooled around with each other on occasion, she'd be bound to dump him, and, worse, make sure the entire school knew.

"Well, of course," she said, smirking and walking around to him. "Like the dress? 3,000 dollars from Milan."

"Oh, I do," he said. Damn. When she wanted to be, she could be very attractive. Grinning, he turned and glanced off in the direction Fabian, Biff, and Marty had gone, just in time to see the three of them vanish inside the gym. Now he and Emily were totally alone in the parking lot. He sat on the hood of the Mercedes as she came over. "Wanna sit in Poppa's lap, sweetheart?" he sneered.

Emily raised an eyebrow and said, "And what makes you think you've earned touching me yet? You know in Polish tradition you have to date for ninety days before you even get a peck on the cheek." She teasingly bent low to check her heel straps, showing off a lot of leg.

Alex scoffed a bit. "Well, we're not in Poland, are we? Here in America, it's okay to fool around on even a first date," he said.

"Well, thats why Poland is so much more refined than America," she responded, standing back up. "Things get better with patience. You'll just have to wait, Alex. I'm not easily won over by money or good looks. It takes a certain quality of man to win me."

Alex blinked, taken a bit aback. This meant that all the teasing and purposeful showing of skin throughout the evening had been just to build up his libido and then shoot him down? His surprise melted away and quickly he began to feel anger boiling up inside him.

"Listen, girly," he said, getting up off the hood of the car, "I don't like being jerked around."

She shrugged. "I can do what I want when I want. I'll lead you on if I want. Besides, I don't even know whether or not you've got what it takes to thrill me anyway. I hear rabbits are a little soft the saddle. And Daddy knows these things."

Alex threw back his head and laughed, once. When his head came back forward, for the first time that evening, his narrow eyes had a sudden cruel look in them. "That's the first time I've ever heard anybody say we rabbits aren't good in the sack. Your father doesn't know shit. That's probably why my dad and the rest of their friends talk about him behind his back."

"And what do they say, then?"

He came closer to her. "That he doesn't know shit. We rabbits can make any female of any species moan with carnal pleasure, and go more times a night than anyone else," he said softly.

Emily scoffed and stepped away. "Please," she said, "you're just like a wolf. Thinking you're all that."

Alex stepped forwards again, he was just a few inches away now, and his eyes got narrower as he looked her up and down. Emily backed up till she hit the hood of the Mercedes and slipped backwards, sitting on it, and narrowly missing the hood ornament. How dare she taunt and tease him and then not deliver? Well, he was going to get what he wanted, what he deserved for putting up with her bullshit.

"Oh, I know I'm all that, sweetheart," he said.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Fletcher," she said, trying to sound tough. But he could tell there was a bit of fear in her voice.

"Oh, nothing," Alex said sweetly, smiling. "I just want what you owe me. And you're going to give it to me!" He suddenly grabbed Emily and forcefully kissed her on the mouth.

She pushed him away and slapped him across the face, getting up off the car. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she cried.

Alex staggered back a bit, rubbing his cheek, dazed. Coming back to his senses, he violently backhanded her, knocking back onto the hood in a sitting position, making her drop her purse, spilling its contents onto the asphalt. She was stunned by the blow and didn't have time to scream as he pounced on her and pushed her down onto the hood. He kissed her passionately, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. His hands felt up her big breasts and roamed possessively over her figure.

Emily, for her part, screamed into his mouth, not kissing him back. "Nnnngggg!!!" She wriggled, trying to get free.

Alex took his mouth off of hers long enough to whisper, "You stuck-up little bitch, I'm gonna give it to you, really bad!" Before she could scream his lips met hers again.

Even if she had managed to scream, the noise from the dance going on in the nearby would ensure no one would hear her.

Keeping her pinned to the hood of the car with his weight, his hands went down to the front of his pants. And that's when there came the most terrifying sound a teenaged girl could possibly hear in a situation like this: a zipper being undone. Emily tried to scream and kick as best as she could, throwing her feeble punches and kicks at Alex, all to no real effect. Within seconds he was back on her, his hands pulling the front of his bikini brief underwear down and fishing out his prodigious erection so that it hung out of his open fly.

She whimpered and moaned in fear. Alex quickly grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it up, sliding his hands lecherously underneath it to feel up her sexy bare legs, finding she wasn't wearing panties. With a somewhat disturbingly liquid motion, he wriggled his lower body up under there and the tip of his cock rubbed against Emily's exposed vagina. With a grunt he thrust forwards, his thick maleness starting to enter her blossoming womanhood. The little slut wasn't even a virgin. Despite this, it was like he'd dreamed. Nice and tight. He groaned at the feeling.

Emily's hands went to push him back, to no avail. "No, stop!" she squeaked. "Please, stop, Alex! Don't do this!" But then any words she would have said afterwards degenerated into animalistic moans and grunts as Alex's cock sank fully into her.

Sliding his arms around her middle and holding you to him, Alex began to have sex with her, thrusting his powerful bunny hips, pushing his thick cock in and out of her cunt. "Stupid cunt, unh," he said, in-between grunts, "did you, unf, forget who I was? Ahh! I'm fucking Alex goddamn Fletcher! Enf! My dad, unh, owns this fucking town!"

"Please," she cried, managing to regain her voice as she got bucked by his powerfully thrusting hips, "stop! Please just let me go! I'll never tease you again, I promise!"

Alex ignored her pleas. He ignored the fact he was committing a crime. He ignored the fact he was doing this out in the open and could be caught. He just fucked her tight, wet, juicy cunt. And finally, he came, groaning deeply, his body locking up as he nuzzled Emily's neck, shooting his cum into her waiting depths. Emily cried out in revulsion and shook her head "no" violently from side to side realized he'd just cum into her.

Alex pulled out of her, his cock still squirting ropes of cum, which coated her bare thighs. He staggered back a bit, as if drunk, and then hurriedly tucked his cock back inside his briefs, adjusting them and then zipping his pants up. He was panting and sweaty, and he stood there for a moment, looking at her as she sobbed in horror, as the enormity of what he'd just done began to dawn on him.

"Oh, God," she moaned, sitting up and hurriedly pushing her dress back down to cover both her jizz-coated legs and abused womanhood. "You didn't use a rubber. Oh, God, what have you done?"

"I, uh," he said, for the first time in his life, he was unsure of how he felt. He wasn't exactly sorry he'd done it, but he was beginning to become increasingly worried about what sort of consequences would come down on him if Emily told.

Stepping towards her, he held up his hands in a placating gesture, and, still panting slightly, said, "I-- I'm sorry, Emily, I'm sorry. Let's... uh, let's not tell anyone about this."

Emily exploded. "Are you kidding?! You raped me! You raped me and you--you--- in me! You-- you did this to me! Why?!" He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. " I'm going inside and I'm calling the cops, and I'm dragging your ass to juvie you pervert!" Getting off the hood of the Mercedes, she began running towards the gym, not bothering to collect her spilled belongings.

"No!" Alex cried, wide-eyed, running after her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back before she could make it very far. "No, Emily, please, don't tell!"

She growled and tried to kick him in the nuts, but he blocked. He dragged her back to the car and made her sit back down on the hood, stammering, trying to come up with some way to talk her out of calling the cops.

"No!" she cried, smacking him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You raped me, you sick bastard, and I'm going to see you get dragged off to the fag factory!" She kicked him harshly in the knee.

"No!" Alex yelled again, wincing at the kick. He roughly shook her. "You can't! I won't let you!"

Emily's head snapped backwards. Alex's hands went to her throat all of a sudden. He began to squeeze, forcing Emily back down on top of the hood he'd raped her on, getting top of her, gritting his teeth in determination and choking her.

Emily kept kicking and struggling underneath him. "Fuck---cker......me.....let.....go..." she wheezed out.

Alex tightened his grip even harder around her throat, his eyes wide with unthinking rage, banging her head against the hood repeatedly even as he strangled her, going, "I won't let you! I won't, I won't, I won't!" over and over again under his breath.

Her eyes bulged and she clawed weakly at him, eyes rolling back into their sockets and mouth gaping open like a gasping fish on dry land. Alex kept his grip tight. Although his rational mind was screaming at him to stop, his desire to silence Emily was driving him, and so he kept his hands around her throat until he was absolutely certain she were dead. After keeping his hands around her throat for a few seconds longer, he released her, letting her head roll lifelessly to one side as he stood up and stepped back, taking a deep breath.

It was then that Alex realized his monumental blunder. By killing Emily, he had only made his situation ten times worse. Panic began to well up inside him. An unfamiliar feeling. And the unfamiliarity only made him more afraid. He looked around. The parking lot was still deserted but for himself and Emily's body. As he had hoped, the noise from the dance had covered the racket of the rape and murder.

But eventually someone would come out, or someone else might pull into the parking lot coming to the dance. He had to act quickly. Trying to think, he turned and looked at Emily again, licking his lips nervously. She laid there, freshly fucked, and freshly killed, on his very own sweet sixteen Mercedes. A Polish girl killed on the hood of a German car. Alex could not deny the irony.

Finally he made up his mind and he came over and grabbed the corpse, lifting her up and carrying her around to the trunk of the Mercedes, which he popped open. Dumping her inside, he shut it, pausing to take one final glance around to make absolutely certain that no one had seen him. Noticing her purse and the items that had spilled out of it, he dove for them with a small cry and hurriedly gathered them up. Putting the contents back into the purse, he spotted a storm drain nearby and ran over to it. It wasn't big enough for the entire purse, however. Standing there, he began rifling through it.

First he took out her wallet, from which he stole $98 in cash. Then he threw the wallet, with its credit cards and Emily's driver's licence and state ID, into the sewer. Lipstick, tampons, everything went into the sewer. The cell phone was the last to go, but only after Alex had thrown it to the ground and ground his heel down on it, crushing it. Walking back to his car, he opened the passenger's side door and stuck the purse in the glove compartment.

He knew he had to get his story straight for the police. If anyone asked, he'd say he and Emily had a fight and she ended up walking home, and that that was the last time he'd seen her. Yeah. Who was to say what dire fate befell her on her trip home?

Composing himself and smoothing back his hair, Alex took several long, deep breaths. After standing there long enough to get his breathing and pulse under control, he adjusted his necktie and began walking across the parking lot. Tomorrow, he'd get a shovel and drive out to Spring Creek Road to dump the body.