They say waiting gives you time to think, time to reflect and contemplate life - who you are, what you are and what type of person you have become from the innocent or not so innocent child you were. The world is not a cruel place, despite what people might say, it is in fact a wonderful place, it’s the assholes like me that make it seem terrible and dark. I am an asshole; I make no excuses about that. I am not going to delve into my past to tell you how or why I am an asshole, I don’t think that there is anything there worth mentioning, besides I’m more focused on the here and now.
The small kitchen was a mess, beer cans stacked in one corner and a few wrappers here and there on the floor. The living room wasn’t that much better, a huge easy chair and two couches faced a big screen TV. The grey carpeting had stains here and there and a small ash tray stashed to one side of the floor next to the easy chair, ashes and cigarette butts aplenty. a deer head draped the far wall above a hunting rifle, there were even boxes of bullets on the shelf beneath it. The house had a definite odor, something that seemed to come from the very furniture and walls themselves, hard to distinguish yet tolerably unpleasant. From the living room a small hallway led to the bedrooms and bathroom, there were three doors, two on the left and one on the right and one more at the very end of the hall facing the living room.
I stopped a moment and collected my thoughts, taking slow deep breaths to calm myself. Being too anxious was always a sure way to make stupid mistakes. I waited perhaps five minutes more before moving down the hallway, it wasn’t hard going unnoticed, or finding which door I needed, the last door on the left was slightly ajar, light pouring into the hallway in a small bright rectangle along with too loud music. Caution had ever been one of my strong points, and although I knew who was home and who was not, I still I moved as carefully as I could, slowly opening each door, checking to confirm that no one else was there, I didn’t need or want any surprises.
The one room on the right was empty, a big bed stashed in the corner, along with assorted furniture and a closet hung open, plaid shirts and jeans pants stashed against flowered dresses and tank tops, stuffed animals - not the fluffy kind but real animals killed and stuffed or whatever the hell the called it - portrayed ghastly poses o tops of furniture an shelves, it was definitely not a kid’s room. The first door on the left was another bedroom, this one much cleaner than probably the entire house, the bed was made but the walls bare, there were a few bits of paper on the floor, no carpeting and one lone chest of drawers by the bed. I closed the door being as quiet as I could each time then headed past the lighted room to the door at the end. I gave a quick peek in as I edged past, I couldn’t see much except feet dangling off the edge of the bed, the rest was hidden, beneath the constant drone of rock music I could hear talking, a cord danced up and down stretching from the far wall to the bed, incredibly a phone was being used even in that torrent of noise. The last door at the end was indeed the bathroom, I took a tentative look inside and after a quick once over closed the door, the odor coming from inside was too strong to warrant any further investigation, it was empty thats what mattered.
I moved back to the door that was opened and peeked in again, this time I could only see one leg, it was up and swinging back and forth. I nudged the door; it swung open a little and thankfully didn’t make any sound, something I didn’t think of before I did it. The music came out louder; it had the added effect of masking any noise I might have made as I moved into the doorway. I got a better view; she was lying down on her stomach, her legs up swinging back and forth, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other disappeared over the side of the bed.
I looked around taking in the room; rock posters covered practically every wall, mostly groups of guys in leather, long hair, piercings and tattoos. A desk over by the window had a can of soda on it, stacks of paper and other assortments of things I couldn’t recognize or cared to. A mirrored closet hunched a few feet away from the desk, but with its angle away from the door I was safe from being seen. There was a chair close by me that had bits of clothing draped over it, a shirt, a bra - black - and a pair of socks, those long ones with black and red stripes all around it. A ceiling fan spun feverishly above the bed with a bulb casting a glaring light on everything, bits of clothing on the floor, a sneaker, more papers and a few other odds and ends, again I didn’t care to know.
I edged further into the room, being grateful that I wasn’t too big to squeeze through the small opening. Once in I kept my body low so as not to cast a shadow, the whole time my heart was pounding in my head mimicking the harried drumming of the music that was playing. My hands shook and my throat was dry, my entire body seemed to be on edge, excitement or nervousness, sometimes the lines blurred, especially in situations like these, I relished the confusion of feelings going through me. I took another careful breath and waited, I didn’t want her to turn and see me but I also definitely didn’t want to do anything while she was on the phone. Then again I wasn’t sure about that last part, do you know how long a female teen spends on the phone?
Crouching and waiting was hard, my muscles locked and my legs protested, coiled and ready to move at a moments notice. My body was tense and I was sure any minute now she would turn, see me and scream and that whoever was on the other end would call the cops even if I did manage to stop her. I made mental notes, contingencies, trying to think ahead, trying to think of different scenarios. I checked my pocket, the tape and knife bulked in them, it was the right tape, I didn’t grab the wrong one by mistake “no wait, I didn’t have any other tapes so this must be the right one. Waiting is hell sometimes, and worse when you are about to do something risky and had severe consequences to it, and the stupid loud music was definitely not helping.
Her conversation took on a sterner note and soon she started making demands of whoever was on the other end, then in a huff she slammed the receiver down. That was what I was waiting for, with everything behind it I rushed forward, unlocking stiff muscles, I almost missed a step but regained my balance in time and slammed my entire weight and body on top of hers. She gave a surprised scream and immediately tried to roll over. I lifted my body, she lifted hers, my left arm swung down and around her body about midway up her chest, pinning her arm with mine and my right arm came up and closed around her throat. It’s nice enough to want to stop someone from screaming by clamping your had over their mouth, but coming from behind there is too much possibility of missing or not covering entirely, her throat was better, cutting off her air and stopping any noise that may come out.
She struggled and pushed at me trying to get to her feet but I pushed down and braced backwards, I was in enough fights to know just how to use my body against someone. I could hear her strangled scream, it was long but not loud enough, I squeezed harder and it cut off quite abruptly. I held her throat in a firm grip, pushed down with my weight and pinned her to the bed, dragging my hand from beneath I removed the packing tape from my pocket, by now there would be enough air deprivation that when I let her go she would need a moment or two to recover.
I was right.
I slipped my hand away and grabbed both of hers, she coughed and gasped for air, giving me enough time to drag her hands behind her back and start wrapping the tape around them. With three circuits done I grabbed her by the throat again and squeezed, this time not as hard but long enough, she struggled and I could feel her fingers trying to grasp me, clutching at anything to get me to let go. I did and she gasped and coughed again, two loops and another three circuits with the tape and her hands were secured.
This left my hands free and I caught hold of her shoulder length black hair and pulled backwards, she tried to scream - whether from pain or fright I didn’t know but I clamped her throat and cut it off. At this point I could threaten or taunt her but that would be pointless, besides silence was much more frightening. Not knowing was half of what was terrifying. Squeezing her throat got the point across enough that when I let go she didn’t try again, only huffed and gasped, her entire body trembling with the effort.
I could feel how soft she was, how delicate and she was quite scared and vulnerable. I was turned on by every bit of it, her trembling, her minute struggles, everything was exciting me, but I had to get a grip and not get carried away - not just yet anyways. I eased up enough to switch hands, grasping her throat lightly just enough to emphasize that if she did anything I would grip harder. All this time she hadn’t seen or heard me and I wanted to keep it that way
I looked around, scanning the room for what I wanted - the chair, and the long socks, that’s what I wanted. I eased up off her to switch hands again, I stretched over for her sock, caught it between two fingers and pulled it to me, lifting my weight off her I pulled her head up and slipped the sock around her head and over her eyes, it was hard distinguishing if I got it right from my angle but I placed my fingers on her eyes making sure they were closed before slipping the sock in place. There was a whimper and a gasp of ‘no’ when she finally realized what I had done, but it was too late, I taped around the sock to secure it and keep it firmly in place.
All that in a few minutes felt like ages, making the leap from stillness to frenzied movement and throwing your strength in the mix can leave you dazed when the adrenaline checks out. I raised myself up off her and leaned back on my heels on the bed, breathing deeply. The music was still blaring and as much as I hated it I figured it was convenient to mask any sounds I or she might make. I looked down at her, she was breathing as hard as I was and her head kept swiveling from side to side, whimpering and shaking. Now that the hard part was over I took stock of her, she lay on her stomach, her hands secured behind her back and her own sock aiding as a blindfold. Her dark hair was in a sorry state from the struggle, and it hung limply down to the bed and across her shoulder. Her black shirt was rumpled and crept up exposing her lower back. The only thing on her that was still in place was her tight jean shorts, hugging her small waist and stopping just below her butt cheeks, I could even make out the top of her white panties beneath it. Damn she was a sexy sight.
She was pretty, her body trembled with each breath she made, I was sure she was crying but she kept quiet, no doubt remembering my silent threat, though unspoken my actions didn’t hint at hesitation to carry it out. I pushed my mind back, reaching further and further into my memories, finding that place of chaos and letting those emotions take over me. There was anger certainly, and passion but no hatred, that never came, it never did. I could not hate but I could get close enough. When my mind reeled with chaotic thoughts, with emotions unchecked, with everything in me on fire, only then was I ready.
I reached over and yanked her hair, pulling her entire body towards me, she cried out but only for an instant, my hand was at her throat. There were tear streaks on her cheek, most of it caught by her sock but enough was shed to let a streak or two through, she trembled and whimpered, her muscles locked in fright, it was like pulling dead weight. Only when she was quiet did I remove my hand, still no words only that silent threat. Grabbing her shoulders I pulled her into my lap, her arms pinned beneath her body, the front of her shirt had an indiscriminate band logo on it, either washed too often or just plain old I didn’t care, there were some holes in it so I suspected old. The only reason I noticed the holes was for what they offered, that would come later but for now I was just getting to know her a little.
I looked down into her terrified expression; her eyes blindfolded but the rest of her face clearly showed fright - terror. Her lower lip trembled between a sob and a scream; her face had gone red and puffy. When I had her where I need her and removed my hands from her shoulders she made to speak, before the first syllable left her throat my hand clamped down, hard. Three breaths and I released again, she coughed and sputtered, cried and sniffled back tears but kept quiet.
I looked her over again, noting the small rise of her breasts, the drop of her shirt to her flat stomach and the inch or two of exposed skin. She was pretty, even in her state of dismay, young, no older than sixteen by my guess, though I could be wrong. She jerked violently when I slipped my hands down the collar of her blouse and groped her breasts, squirming with all her might to move away again, I just held on and let her struggle against me, the more she moved the more friction she caused in my lap and the more turned on I got from her body pressing against my cock. I was hard and no doubt she could feel it, I wanted her to feel it, I wanted her to know what I was going to do to her.
Again she tried to scream but this time I smashed my lips against hers in a rough kiss, she moved her head to the side, I followed my lips still locked on hers, following her thrashing and struggles, her feet raking furrows in the sheets. I squeezed her breasts and it was only when it became unbearable that she stopped moving, though her entire body remained tense. I kissed her fully this time, forcing my tongue between her lips, the smell and taste of beer greeted me, but there wasn’t actually soda in that can of soda.
When my mouth left hers she spat and coughed and cried. Her chest heaved and I could feel how fast her heart was beating under my hand, my fingers relaxed and I sought her nipples, pinching and rolling them, relishing the feel of them. Still she squirmed and I didn’t try to stop her, her squirming excited me, it pushed me on, I closed my eyes and drank in every minute tremor, every struggle and every whimper.
I was hard, the feeling of her helpless body in my lap made me shiver with excitement. I pushed her off me, rolling her over twice so that she was once again on her back; her hands pinned and secured beneath her gave her a slight arch that I liked. I moved around and knelt just beside her, watching as her head swung from side to side trying to discern what was coming next, she knew I was still on the bed, she could feel my weight sinking in but except for the blaring of the stereo there was nothing else. I made no sounds except for my breathing, I didn’t threaten except with my hands, I didn’t coerce, insult or cajole her, I just watched and she became more frightened with each passing second.
It was a beautiful sight, she wanted to scream, she wanted to reach out, do something “anything”, but she was afraid of what her actions might bring, the pinkish fingerprints on her throat reminded her, she couldn’t see them or me but she could feel the pressure still there as if my hands were even now around her delicate throat cutting off her air, her ability to breathe, to live. Still I watched and waited, my need building, my hands unable to keep still.
I moved again and she flinched even before my hands were on her. Gripping her shirt I sought out the small holes in them and pushed my fingers through, I pilled and it ripped apart. Definitely old because I didn’t apply that much pressure. She immediately drew away and tried to curl herself, her knees coming up to hide her now exposed middle, a quick and sharp slap across her thigh and she reluctantly put them back down. Grabbing the remaining tatters of her shirt I ripped again and again, throwing pieces over the side of the bed until only the ringlet of her collar and bits and pieces hung off her shoulders, only her sleeves remained fully in tack.
My body shivered again and I sucked in a breath when I looked down at her, the overhead bulb giving me a clear view. Her chest covered in small beads of sweat rose and fell rapidly with each breathe, her skin, save for a small scar on her left side was smooth and soft. I was surprised she didn’t have a piercing on her, or tattoos apart from an extra earring in her ear, black fingernail polish and an anklet with a skull on it that was as far as her punk/rocker look went. Her breasts jutted up at me, coning into large circles topped by small nipples, her areolas slightly darker than her skin riddled with soft ripples. I reached my hand down and stroked across them, delighting at her reaction, she flinched, drew away and tried to curl herself again. I didn’t want that, I yanked her legs down and gripped her throat, slapping my hand hard against each thigh twice, she wriggled and struggled but I held her tight. She cried or rather choked, I watched in fascination as her chest frantically heaved, but it was only when she calmed down that I released her, giving her time to catch her breathe. When she did I slapped her legs again, emphasizing hat they were to remain as I had left them, she seemed to understand.
I retreated off the bed and undressed, regretting that I had nothing on with a zipper so she could hear as I undid them, but she could hear the shucking of clothes and she knew, she drew away from the sounds, moving back across the bed as much as she could trying to roll over unto her stomach so she could move more easily. I watched her as I undressed, her efforts afforded her minute results but before she could slide off the bed I was already undressed, I climbed back on the bed grabbed her shoulders and dragged her back towards me.
I spread her legs open and got between them, she was covered by her shorts and panties but I didn’t mind, I jammed her up against me, her groin with mine her legs on either side of me. She whimpered, and chocked back tears, I think there were also pleas but my ears ignored them and the stereo drowned out everything else. I leaned over her, placing my body on top of hers, she shrank away but could only go so far, I barely noticed. Instead I sank to her small jutting breasts, closing my mouth over her left breasts, sucking and biting. This time she screamed louder, a shrill sound mingling perfectly with the warble loud music. I bit down raking my teeth across her skin, sucking hard on her nipple, she struggled beneath me, trying in vain to dislodge me, to roll herself from under me, her legs kicked and her knees jabbed into my sides, I ignored her efforts. I moved to her right breast, repeating the same procedure, biting, sucking and enjoying the feel of her beneath me. She cried and wailed against my tongue on her skin, I licked my way up her neck and sucked the soft flesh of her throat, pleased by the garish red mark left behind. Grabbing her hair I pushed her head back and planted my lips on hers, a harsh kiss that cut off her wailing, plunging my tongue between her lips, surprised she didn’t attempt to bit me, I was anticipating it, whether through fear or she just didn’t think of it I don’t know, it never came. My hands roamed her body a I toyed with her, I swept my fingers along her shoulders, beneath her throat, she tensed when I did, my nails dug into her skin when I pulled her body to me, sweeping my tongue across her stomach, kissing and nibbling my way lower. There was a sharp ‘no’ when I reached the top of her shorts, I smiled and kissed and licked my way back up to her breasts, circled her nipples with my tongue each in turn before planting a light kiss on the tip of each nipple. I could see in her eyes that she wanted it, secretly.
The room was hot, even though the ceiling fan swung and wobbled insistently, my body sheened in sweat and so was hers, it only accented the red marks on her skin, bite marks and scrapes from my nails. She sniffled and panted, the music stopped between CD changes, the only sounds were that of our breathing and the clicking sounds of the stereo. Outside the window was a distant memory, there was nothing beyond these walls.
The music started again and like a mechanism fed by the sound, I moved again. Gripping her legs I brought them up and around me and down on the bed, my fingers went to the sole button of her jean shorts, it opened with minimal effort, I opened it to her white panties beneath, a small print of a cat covered the front, it had a smile and a wink on its face - cute. I unzipped her shorts the rest of the way but it was when I started pulling at the sides that she came back to life squirming away again. Her small hips swung from side to side as she tried to sidle away from me. It was a waste of time and by now she should have learned, I grabbed the sides of her shorts and panties and began pulling, I dragged them down inch by inch as she fought harder to get away, the more she wriggled the more they came off. Bit by bit her groin came into view, at first obscured by her legs while she wriggled, but even that was a momentary deterrent, in moments her shorts and panties were mid thigh and I could make out the soft dip of her mound coalescing into delicate lips.
A groan escaped me drowned out again by the music, the sight of those delicate, soft lips sent a wave of pleasure through me, I bunched her shorts and panties in the grip of my left hand an slid my thumb along the juncture between her lips, I relished the feeling, not only of her lips but also of her body stiffening beneath me, her whimpers were back again and her cries. All unnoticed as I let my thumb become familiar with her, tracing the rise and fall of her puffy lips, the wrinkled feel as they opened slightly the lower I went.
I could not wait anymore, hoisting her legs I pulled her shorts off all the way, then spread them as wide as I could, she cried out but I didn’t listen. I could feel myself twitch as her stretched legs opened her just a little, I could seethe pink silk past her lips, the ripple of her inner lips leading up to the top and the folds that hid her clit. Her body heaved and her sobs were louder now, she cringed and flinched with each touch, her legs around me stiffened and wriggled, she tried pulling them up but I didn’t let her, she tried kicking but I gripped her thighs and smacked her sharply across her nipples.
All these were minor distractions, my attention fixed on her mound, her lips and line that separated them running down between her legs. Once again I let my thumb explore her, I traced her lips and sunk my finger between them a bit at a time. I stroked up, and dipped more and more below the surface with each down stroke. Heat surrounded my finger but I had difficult sliding further in, even though I pressed against her silky opening she wasn’t wet. Instead I placed my hand on her lips and used my fingers to spread them apart, searching for her clit. It took me three tries, it was hidden beneath folds of flesh, small and pink. When at last I found it I rubbed across the tip, I was gentle and delicate, stroking deliberately, teasing decisively.
She might not enjoy it but her body reacted to it. I slid a finger to her opening, dancing my thumb across her clit at the same time. Slowly it went in. it was delightful to feel her close around my finger, sliding into her I felt her inner walls undulate. She still wasn’t wet but moist, I teased my finger in and out, using the motion to stroke her clit at the same time, she twisted her hips but couldn’t escape and with each pass she got wetter. My finger was coated in a slim film of her sex, I pulled it out and tasted her, mmmmmmmmmm, I could help moaning. I had to taste more of her. I wrapped my arms around her legs and brought her hip up as my body went down. She jerked and twisted when my tongue touched her slit, with my arms curled around her I pried her lips open with my fingers and slid my tongue into her.
I covered her with my mouth, sucking on her lips and letting the tip of my tongue slash across her clit, her body twisted again but I held her firm and slid my tongue inside her, lathering her sweet silky walls. I was hungry for her and I relished the taste, the feeling and the smell of her. My body throbbed with need and I twitched with anticipation, there was no more time.
I sat back and gripped her hips, my body in line with hers I pushed forward, I missed - instead slipping between her lips and coming out across her mound. Again I focused myself, using my left hand to place myself inside her, then I pushed forward again. Oh, the feeling that washed over me, the grip of her around me as I slid inside, the painful yet pleasurable way she squeezed me. I didn’t stop, despite her thrashing, her screams. I cared for nothing except for the feeling that surrounded me, pushing deeper and deeper until all of me was embedded inside her. I panted at the feeling, my body succumbed to it, thankfully she was wet or it would have been unbearable.
I quick moment passed, her cries dulling into sniffles, her struggles lulled. I eased out and slammed back in eliciting a sharp scream, too much. I placed my hand at her throat and she stiffened, I held her down and rocked in and out of her, the silky feeling closed around me, along with heat, my mind reeled from the pleasure of the moment and fueled me onwards. The I didn’t create my own rhythm but rather matched the frenzy of the music that blasted around us. The drumming setting the pace, rising and falling in tempo, I moaned, she whimpered adding staccato pieces to the euphoria of the noise.
At times faster, my body slamming into hers, pushing her up and pulling her down on the bed, feeling the fiery sensations that ran the length of me, pounding into her as the music pounded the very air around us. At times slowly, pausing in brief respite to the music, sliding disjointedly in and out of her, relishing the svelte tension of her body, only to have the pace build rapidly, the ring of the guitar cascading notes that filled my senses as I filled her. Deeper, harder, I pushed in and pulled out just enough to slam in again.
My hand moved from her throat, she gasped but didn’t struggle. I gripped her hips and pulled her to me, trying to get more of her, more than I could but as much as I needed. I abandoned the rhythm of the music and lost myself in my own, a pounding of flesh against flesh that shocked pleasure along every inch of me. My strokes no longer frenzied but deliberate, I built on the initial foundation of pleasure, pooling every aspect of being inside her. I was so over come with the intensity that I ignored all else, whether she screamed or not I didn’t care, if she fought it was futile. I held her and unleashed myself to the pleasure of her.
The impact of it was glorious as I released myself, yielded to the culmination of my pleasure and like a bright ring of pleasure my senses burned away suffused by it. Her legs went rigid around me and I felt her squeeze me, I looked down and saw the clear grimace that etched her pretty face. Her hair matted and streaked across her skin, the strands of her torn shirt hanging on her arms, marks that were bright red now a dull pink crisscrossed and dotted her nipples and stomach. Her eyes still bound by her sock and the tape, though it rode up a little on the left still not enough to come off. To my eyes she was truly a beautiful sight.
Minutes passed a I recovered, sat next to her watching her breathing go from heavy heaves to soft dips and rises. I took a deep breath and slid from the bed, retrieving my clothes and getting dressed. She had long since stopped crying and just lay there seeming numb to everything, I didn’t undo the tape of her arms nor take off the blindfold, I wanted her to stay just as she was. I reached in my pocket and retrieved the letter I had carried with me and placed it across her chest.
As I walked out into the living room I was of two minds about the whole thing, in some ways I regretted taking her, she was so young and all the more innocent, in other ways the pleasure I felt could not be denied and I closed my eyes and relived just a brief moment of it. I stopped for a moment and looked down at the small table beside the door, it had another ash tray, more cigarette butts and ashes, a few coins and a big knife rested beside the lamp. I reached down and took up the Sherriff badge that rested beside the knife, studied it for a few seconds before slipping it into my pocket.
I didn’t go through the window as I had entered, instead I unbolted the back door and slipped out into the night, the moon was high, enough light for me to make my way back through the woods. The houses were set a ways apart so I wasn’t worried about someone seeing me leave, but you could never tell what or who was out on nights like these, especially around here.
The music still droned in the background, getting softer the further I went, the singer screamed out a chorus that trailed off into the sounds of the night. Looking at my watch I noted the time, half past one, her parents would be home soon and I would find her like that, she would be devastated, he would find the letter I left for him.
You must be able to recognize what happened; situation ought to seem familiar enough. I doubt you would remember her though, the girl you fucked and beat no more than four months ago, there has probably been too many. Consider this retribution, punishment for your deed. You can escape justice from the law itself, as you have countless times but it eventually catches up with you in one form or another. I am no divine form of justice, but a man who has become a demon, the kind you create, one that serves a purpose, I am no better than you for that purpose but rather I consider myself much, much worse.
There are differences between us though, I used tape, not rope that burned into her skin, I overpowered her but didn’t bash her head in, and I didn’t shoot her when I was finished with her. She suffered for your deed, but didn’t suffer your deed. I serve my justice in my own way, not yours.