Jack Be Nimble: 1997 Appetizer

She doesn't resist when I turn her over onto her stomach, I doubt that she's terribly aware of her surroundings at the moment. This will not be difficult. Hiking up her dress, I detach her garters, reaching down I grab her hands. She cries out in pain when I wrench her arms back behind her. Apparently someone hasn't been doing their yoga. I quickly bind her wrists with her garters behind her back. Her fingers convulse and form claws as she clenches her whole body in expectation of what is to come.

Hoisting her, trussed up and woozy from blood loss, onto her knees I push her against a car, pinning her. Her bleeding breast leaves little red streaks on the car door. She's shuddering now, probably crying. I have an aching erection pushing through my jeans. I reach down to tear her panties from her body, they rip from her with a satisfying shredding sound. She's whimpering and struggling, thrashing her head from side to side or at least making a good show of doing so, truth be told it resembles more lolling. I put an arm hard across the back of her neck, pinning her face to the car door, the impact takes the rest of the fight right out of her for the moment.

I take this opportunity to stuff her shredded panties into her mouth as a makeshift gag. She coughs and chokes briefly though whether from the fabric or her own scent permeating the garment, I have no idea, nor do I care. I bring a hand up to squeeze her unwounded breast, pinching the nipple and shaking it hard. She gasps in the pain.

"Please..." she rasps out in a whisper that would have most decent folk's teeth on edge.

I am hardly most decent folk.

I casually force the underwear further down her throat, silencing any further protestations and spread her legs. She has a well trimmed mound of pubic hair which leads me to believe that either she is not totally sexually bereft or she simply likes to keep herself in swimsuit shape.

Her ass however is most impressive, firm and supple, clearly this is a woman who has spent some time on a Stairmaster. For a moment I am conflicted as to which orifice I would prefer to violate. Upon reflection I realize that I wish to save the full extent of my cruelty for whatever young thing I pick up on campus and as such, I will not expend it here.

So I casually shrug to my self, unzip my pants (she tries once more to lurch away at that sound) and plunge myself into her.

The woman lurches upright, ramrod straight for a moment and hits a high note in her scream that deserves its own record contract, she holds it for a few seconds, a wail of pain and terror and whatever else a woman feels at this moment at the sheer violence and intrusion in the act, before finally having it collapse into a sob, she follows her body becoming limp, her hair, now thoroughly in tangles hangs over her make-up streaked and tear stained face as she shutters.

I, on the other hand, am having a grand time, happily plowing in and out of her. It's a little known fact that, when it comes to men, we are big fans of friction, and the lubricating process which symbolizes a woman's arousal, well, that kind of cuts down on it for us. Don't get me wrong, none of us want to be fucking the Sahara, but this woman here who is nearly bone dry is a nice rough fuck and I am truly enjoying myself.

Her body bounces up and down, she's like a little rag doll right now, limp, pliable, mine for the moment, her only purpose to sate me, and I love it. I thrust higher and higher into her cunt, the motion banging her head into the door periodically, making her even more woozy. Her tits are bouncing, blood dribbles from one of them onto the pavement, she's moved past crying at this point, her precious little mind has retreated back into itself, leaving her body to take all the punishment.

Well...okay.

I thrust once more; high and hard into her tight pussy, my hands snaking down to grip her firm ass for leverage. She gasps through her gag for a second then shudders as she feels my seed spill into her. Little known fact about vampires: our semen is cold. We are corpses after all, and she is shuddering violently and moaning.

Well, I'm sated for the moment. I casually withdraw from her now-sticky pussy and tuck myself back into place, a few moments to arrange myself as she just rests against the car moaning in fright and violation. I reach over and casually tear the garters from her wrists, flipping her over into her back.

Ah, her face is a work of art. Dirt, tear stains, blood, smeared makeup and that glassy eyed look of a trauma victim. I love it. I casually remove the panties from her mouth and push her away from me. My face is clouded in darkness, partly do to bad lighting and partly a neat little vampire party trick. She scrambles as best she can from me, I imagine she's quite sore and like I said, blood loss is a factor here. I gesture at her.

"Strip," I order her. She simply looks at me blankly, wide eyed and unseeing. I sigh, looks like I'll have to be a bit more direct. I casually reach over (casual for me, for her I imagine it's faster than her brain can register) and grab a good fistful of her face and lift her up. She's trying to scream but that's not going to well for her.

"Strip or I'll peel off your face and feed it to you," I whisper, promising this. Apparently that's a vivid enough mental picture to convince her to obey. I drop her into a heap; she crumples then fairly rips the shredded remains of her clothes off her battered body, quite eager to obey. Within a moment she's sitting, her legs drawn up close to her chest, bare ass on the pebbled pavement, hunching rocking back and forth.

Chuckling, I gather her tattered rags into a pile. Taking out the lighter fluid I coat the clothes generously. The woman's eyes get wide for a second (looks like her brain is slowly returning) in fear, perhaps she thinks I'm going to turn her into flambé? Granted, a novel idea but not one I choose to indulge for the moment. A few more squirts here and there, little places that our encounter may have dropped hints at. It's done in a moment.

I put the lighter fluid away and reach over to her. Before she can react I have grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked hard enough to pull it from her head. She wails in pain stumbling back away from me and falling. I light the hair with my lighter and drop it on the clothes. They go up with a WHOOSH, little fires start on the ground from where I'd sprayed lighter fluid and with it all goes a good percent of the forensic evidence.

Thank you FBI.

The light however will attract visitors and so I must be quick. I take her purse, dropped somewhere along the way and empty it out, casually tossing things into the fire that pop and sizzle. Finally I find what I'm looking for. I hold up her driver's license,

"This is your driver's license. I now know where you live. If you call the police, I will know and I will come to your house and hurt you so much you will beg for another night like this and NO ONE will be able to keep you safe from me, do you understand?"

I push the words deep into her soft human brain; I get a nice trembling whimper as my answer. I nod once then casually toss the purse into the fire to burn. She watches it all go up, her clothes, her purse, her money, her dignity, her self respect, her safety.

She watches it all burn and begins to cry again, deep wracking shaking sobs.

I chuckle,

"Run on home, little lamb. Remember what I said," I tell her.

She pulls herself up on thin, trembling legs, naked. Her body looks amazing in the firelight and I almost want to be in it again, but no. The light WILL attract the curious and I should be going. Turning with a sniffle, she stumbles down the street, her tight ass rolling back and forth as she lurches away.

I chuckle again, watching this woman's life burn. I've been relatively careful and so I'm not too worried. She's frightened out of her mind and the police in the area have suffered such bad P.R. lately that she was probably more afraid of them until I came along. No, she's weak and she'll do what she's told.

And if she doesn't, well, there's always the things I could do to that shapely ass with a roll of duct tape and a coat hanger.

I laugh to myself as I watch her naked form fade into the dark. Perhaps she'll meet up with some concerned pedestrian who will take care of her.

Perhaps she'll meet up with some thugs who will pile out of their low-rider and gang-fuck her before busting a cap in her pretty head.

I love Boston, city of possibilities.

Well, enough dawdling. This has been a wonderful appetizer. Time for the main course.