by Kirk Alex
CHAPTER 367
Bishop handed Marvin the key to the tap in the wall out there by the pit. Had him drag the end of the long hose with him and screw it onto the spigot. When he returned, Biggs made it down to the Workshop-cum-Fun Room to get into his knee-high rubber boots and yellow slicker; bib apron over that. Placed the hard hat (with light) on his head, the safety goggles on top. He had one other helmet there: with a full-on plastic face guard, but opted to go with what he had on instead. This way, when the blood and bits of meat sprayed him in the face, some of it, eventually, was bound to find its way either in his mouth, or else near it, and he’d have immediate access.
Sure, drinking blood on a daily basis was not always pleasant and felt more like a chore than anything else, was done for health reasons primarily, but in a situation such as this, made it different, rather enjoyable—because it was part of the scenario, therefore an integral component that added to the experience. Killing without blood was like a burger without ketchup, hot dog without mustard. It was like a blow job without the money shot.
He jammed heavy-duty, white leather gloves into the apron pouch. Returned to the walk-in
“‘God’ is here, to do what ‘God’ does in His Abattoir.”
Marvin handed him the hose handle end. Biggs aimed it at Connie Higgins, the Woodland Hills school teacher hanging from the meat hook nearest the door. Started spraying. Hosed her down pretty good. Aimed the hard spray on her inordinately large bosom. Shifted to get at the wincing face. Stayed with it. There went the makeup for sure. He’d have to redo her makeup all over again, the bitch.
Got the blood off. Graduated the spraying down toward the belly and more blood, inner thighs. Teach turned out to be one lame lay. Great body/spiritless fuck. No zest or charisma. Nothing that came close. White Bread whore didn’t know how to fuck. What else was new? Made it that much easier to dispose of them, then.
He had Marvin shut the water off. Dropped the hose handle.
Muck was back. Not wanting to miss out on any of the action. Hypocrite.
“Dude be watchin’ his water bill. Sho ’nuff. Water don’t never be free.”
“Go find something to do.”
CHAPTER 368
Marvin wasn’t eager to leave, but stepped out all the same.
“Just another way to defray cost.” Biggs gestured at the bimbos on the hooks. “Maintain overhead.”
Temperature had been set at a not intolerable thirty-nine degrees. Not cold enough to result in anyone freezing, yet cool enough to keep the rest of the goods in fresh enough condition.
Bimbos were blond. Both had hangers. The school teacher, Constance Higgins, was the natural; the other, aerobics instructor who worked at a gym in Fox Hills, was Sandra Harcourt. Partial to peroxide. Made no difference. Regarded them both with equal disdain.
On the other hand, what he did value was their resilience: they seemed alert enough to be aware of their surroundings and the circumstances they were caught up in.
All the better. Why he kept the temperature as high as he did. Ordinarily, he would have had it down by ten degrees, or lower. Ordinarily. Not that he minded the bitches expiring, so long as they did so with a little help from his chainsaws: either Big Daddy, the Stihl saw, or the much smaller Daddy, Jr., Black & Decker.
Alas, before that next phase took place, there was a thing or two he needed to attend to.
He reached for some items in the makeup kit: lipstick, eyeliner, eyebrow pencil, etc. Began to apply it to the school teacher.
“However, in this case, as stated, that’s not primarily why she’s in the situation she’s in.” He looked at Pearleen, who had the Latina in her arms, holding her up practically, comforting her. “Gives a lackluster blow job. Not a very good fuck. When a bitch can’t fuck, can’t suck, can’t cook, can’t keep house . . . can’t do shit. . . . That’s one useless bitch, in this opinionated man’s opinion. And when a bitch is useless, can’t pull her weight, she’s dead weight. Dead weight belongs in the kettle. . . .” Biggs cleared his throat. “You’re looking at the staff’s next meal.”
CHAPTER 369
He was done with the makeup. It was good enough, anyway. It would do. He didn’t have to turn his head, either, to guess what Marvin was up to, to know that curiosity had gotten the best of him and that he was peeking from behind the door jamb and probably fondling himself.
Let him. So long as Muck was not in the way and giving him that look that said he didn’t agree with the “evil” crap that was going on, or at least that was about to take place.
“All right, Pearleen, show Olivia what it takes to make me happy around here, what it takes to stay alive.”
Pearleen straightened. Wiped tears from her face. She was looking at Biggs. “What do you want me to do, Cecil?”
“What do you think?” Biggs indicated the woman he’d just hosed down. “Tongue that gash, and do it as though your life depends on it—because it does. Get down on your knees, spread the tramp’s legs and lap up her cunt juice.”
“Couldn’t you just take her down, Cecil? Please? I’ll do what you want. Couldn’t we bring her down?”
“She’s CTD. Circling the Drain.”
When he’d worked as a practical nurse, doctors often used the expression when a patient was near death. He didn’t feel like explaining. Pearleen was looking up at him, pleading with her eyes. Biggs grabbed the high yellow by the throat and squeezed and forced her down in front of the hanging bimbo.
He’d pulled Pearleen so hard that Olivia had slipped on the wet metal floor and taken the Belle of the Ball down with her.
Biggs yanked the stripper’s head back up. Jammed her face between the hanging victim’s thighs.
“Suck her cunt, bitch. Unless you want to end up on that hook yourself.”
Pearl did as she was told. Parted the woman’s thighs and began flicking with her tongue.
“Do it right.”
Biggs grabbed a handful of Olivia’s dark hair and shoved her toward the action. He wanted her to be right up in there next to Pearleen’s face, right there next to the hanging woman’s pubes.
“Learn everything you can, Liv. It could easily determine whether you live or die. Part those cunt lips, Pearleen. That’s right. Get that long tongue in there; get her good. Lick her clit, play with it, flick it. More. Give her more. I want to see the bitch react to it. Give her more. Now go back inside her pussy. All the way, baby. All the way, I said. Yeah. Right. Back out again. Get it. Lap up that cunt juice, draw the blood out. Swallow it. All of it, whore. Yeah, baby. Back on the clit. Drive her crazy by teasing the clit like that. Are you watching, Olivia? You better be watching, you better be paying attention, because you’ll be next. I want you both to get real good at it for later. You are going to put on a show for me. That’s right. You are going to throw a party for me—and pray I’m satisfied. Because if you fail to please me you’ll both end up hanging from meat hooks like this cunt here. The next step for her is the furnace. Once we separate the meat from the bones, she ends up in the furnace. Keep licking, Pearleen; and while she’s doing that, I want you to play with Pearleen’s pussy, Olivia. Do it now. Play with her twat with your free hand. Get your hand down there and play with her pee-hole, get your fingers inside all that pink pussy. Feel her clit, get her worked up. Get a finger up her tight, brown butt. Yeah. . . .”
Olivia’s tears continued to flow. She was all nerves and fumbling. Cecil parted his apron and yanked Pearleen toward his open fly. He reached inside his trousers and pulled his loaded penis out and guided it inside her mouth.
“Show the young bitch how it’s done, Pearl honey. Show the young cunt how to inhale cock, how to do it like the pros.”
Pearleen worked his genitals with her tongue; worked the length of his penis. Got on the head with her lips wrapped around it as she stroked with both hands.
“Oh yes. LaBelle of the Ball. . . . Love it when you do it like that. . . . Knew you’d be great at it. . . . Just knew it. . . . Blow
me, baby. . . . Top the previous blow job.”
CHAPTER 370
He happened to glance at Olivia, who’d kept her eyes closed. Reached down and slapped her hard across the face.
“Open your fucking eyes, cunt. Keep your eyes open, ‘Tillie Marie.’ I want you to watch and study; and you better learn how to do it right, or I’ll just chop your fucking head right off. I don’t have time to play games with you. Big Tex is right about one thing: Life is short, too short. You either perform, get the job done, or you fucking die. That’s it. We’ll cut your limbs off and throw you into the furnace with this other useless cunt. Keep your eyes open and watch because you’ll be asked to take over in a second and you better know what you’re doing, you better be better than the suck-off in the graveyard. See how the black bitch is sucking? See how she works it with her tongue? See the way she keeps stroking my cock and gives it that little corkscrew-type twist as her hand nears the knob? You paying close attention, Livie?”
Olivia was nodding her head, wiping hair and tears out of her eyes.
“Take me all the way, Pearleen. All the way. Gag on it, cunt. Gag on the moose cock. Because pretty soon you’ll be gagging on a load of white hot cum. You’ll be filling your mouth with a load of hot juice, baby, in about two seconds . . . only I want to prolong it, keep it going . . . just want to keep it going. . . . Keep sucking. . . . Do it easier now. . . . I don’t want to shoot juice right now. . . . Easy, whore. . . . Easy. . . . Yeah. . . . Stroke me. . . . Flick the head with your tongue. . . . You got suction. That’s what you’ve got to learn, Olivia. When I cream in your mouth make sure you’ve got your lips wrapped around the head—”
He withdrew his groin. Indicated the purple, mushroom-shaped knob. “That’s the most sensitive area right there. Helmet. You have to keep working the helmet with your lips and tongue. Stroke it with your hands. Suck on it. Draw out every last drop. You got that, bitch?”
Olivia nodded.
“Then say it.”
“I got it.”
“Are you ready to worship the helmet?”
“I’m ready.”
“Let me hear you say it, then.”
“I’m ready to worship the helmet.”
“Tell me you can hardly wait to taste my cum in your throat. Tell me you can hardly wait to have me shoot a big, heavy load of hot cum down your slutty throat.”
“I can hardly wait to have you shoot a big, heavy load of hot cum down my slutty throat.”
“Ohhh, I love that. You’re even starting to sound like a tramp. It didn’t take long, did it? To take a so-called virgin and turn her into a genuine whore, a cocksucker. Take it then, cocksucker. Take it and make me shoot juice. You’ve dreamt about it all your life. Here’s your chance finally. I’m giving you all the cock that fag Perez didn’t have the guts to.”
CHAPTER 371
Biggs slid his groin between Olivia’s lips and watched her work on it, clumsily at first, then picking up rhythm soon enough.
Marvin eyed the action from beyond the open cooler door and Biggs knew it and didn’t give a damn, so long as the backslider didn’t get in his way. In fact, knowing that he was being observed added a certain dimension to it.
Muck’s good hand was deep inside his fly and he was rubbing himself. Just as Biggs was aware that he was being watched by Marvin, Marvin at this point was well aware that Mildred Elizabeth was out of the john and staring at him with those demented peepers. Demented or not, the peepers were also hungry and said a lot without so much as uttering a single word: she wanted something. Was after what he had down there in his hand.
Marvin first had to make double-certain that the old biddy in the wheelchair was not around to sneak up on him and whack his dick with the Bible. Bitch was sick, anti-sex these day’, so the crusty old ho claimed.
He took a peek through the Judas window in the door to the Geek Cell. She was in there. Even though he’d locked the door a minute ago, tested it once more. Yep. Good and locked.
Walked back to his previous position at the door to the walk-in cooler, with Mildred in pursuit on all fours like a trained seal, licking her tongue, grinning like a bitch in heat. Ho wanted it. Old ho was no better than a dog, like them Roscoe K-9. Ugly, too. For sure.
Marvin stroked himself, while checking in on the action taking place inside the cooler with Biggs and the hot bitches, then would turn his head back to see what Mildred was doing.
Got closer and closer. Jaw open, tongue hanging out. Practically begging for it. Wanted a taste. Woman was so homely she look’ like she got hoof-an’-mouf. Damn near caused his Jones to go south. Only there was no way, not when he knew what Cecil was doing to the young bitches inside the Abattoir. Was gonna shoot his load over them hot ho bitches. Marvin knew how to deal with it, too. Shut his eyes. Pretended he was being sucked off by Peach and the Messican, instead of the crazy broad who was doing the actual sucking and swallowing like a sweet and juicy Popsicle. Mildred Elizabeth worked it with incredible suction. Old hag was like a demon nympho suckin’ like she ain’t had none in a long time. And then it happened: Marvin blasted. It was like before: Yogurt by Muck. A shit load of it. He yelped. Held on to the door jamb to keep from falling over.
“Fuck.”
It was draining. Felt weak. Good, but weak. If not entirely exhausted, close to it.
Even though it was one of the best suck-offs he’d ever experienced, he was relieved it was over with. Was eager to shove his black mamba back inside his fly and zip up.
Mildred had a pleased look on her face.
Whatever, ho, thought Marvin. Escorted her back to the john to get her off his hands. Tried to hand her a hairbrush or comb as a way to suggest she ought to comb her hair, get it in order, run that brush or comb through her goatee—to keep her mother, tough-as-nails Betty Lou Rutterschmidt, from getting wise about what just went down. Old Miss Betty could, maybe would, beat her black-and-blue with that big-ass Book, maybe worse—and if it got back to Omar same thing could happen to him.
It was a good idea, he thought. Could work. Couldn’t think of nothin’ else. Except Mildred had her arms locked around his neck and refused to let go.
Marvin, head turned away to avoid her reeking breath and black teeth, untangled himself. Freed himself. Insisted she take the brush, or the comb.
“Start brushin’. Make yo’self pretty for round two.”
He stuck the brush in her hand. Left her standing there in front of the cabinet mirror. Had her convinced that a brushing out of her hair and whiskers was all she needed to improve her appearance.
He returned to the cooler door. Stood hidden. Just beyond the right door jamb.
CHAPTER 372
Bishop and the young vagina was still goin’ at it. Bigg’ was sayin’ somethin’. Talkin’ boo-shit.
“Born cocksucker.”
Why do it take the dude this long? Wondered if he was fag? Maybe half-fag? Wondered if he might be needin’ to chill another chicken? Chop a chicken’s head off so he could get off? Maybe not. Lots going on for Trusty Lusty’s dick to stay up.
“Born cocksucker.” Bigg’ sayin’ it twiced. “Perez was just too wimpy to go for broke. Got to take what you want in this world; take it with brute force. Go for it. Fuck all the rest. Act like a wimp like Rudy Perez and others like him and you get nowhere fast.”
He helped Olivia with it. Followed her rhythm. Held her head in his hands. Guided her this way, and then he put his right hand on Pearleen’s face and guided her toward his erection.
“Maybe there’s enough for both of you there.”
Marvin stood where he was at, and felt another erection coming on. Shit. What was he going to do now? Wasn’t about to let himself get all worked up again, so excited that he’d have to bring the ugly old bitch out of the john again and let her do him. No way. But he remained standing there, watching, taking it in. It was not easy not to.
“Lookit them purple veins. Lookit that shit. Lookit the black mole on the knob. Burn scars up a
nd down the shaft. Agenda Marie was disgusted by it. Fuck her. I’m used to it. My pole, my mole, my scars. Lookit that. I’m getting ready to whip cream. I’m whipping cream, you fucking sluts. You did it—you filthy tramp bitches. Watch me explode. Get it. Get the gusher. Get it while you can. Don’t be sad, be glad. There should be enough to go around. Nutsack juice. Man jizz.”
He unloaded inside Olivia’s mouth. Withdrew briefly, wanting the high yellow to join in. This was a must. Pushed her head up against Olivia Duarte’s face. Pressed them both against his cock. He stroked himself now, needing to get it all out.
“Lick it, lick it. All of it.”
He stood between them. Guided the stripper’s face up against his buttocks, while the other girl continued to work on his genitals. After a moment, he was just too spent to do anything else. Leaned back against the cooler wall to zip up.
Marvin was basically doing the same thing outside the cooler. He had been unable to contain himself. Had masturbated and shot his load against the bookcase on the Roscoe side of the basement. Fuck the library. Sat in one of the patio chairs to collect himself. Hoez was hotter than hell.
CHAPTER 373
Truth was he preferred fucking them while torturing the shit out of them, or else, if one were available, while slicing a chicken’s neck open.
But you didn’t always have that luxury. Chickens cost money, and victims had a habit of expiring, so you settled for the next best thing—and sometimes the next best thing wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Not bad.” Biggs invited Muck back in. “Not the greatest blow job I ever got; not the lousiest, either. Your innocence makes up for lack of technique.” Bishop was looking at Olivia Duarte as he said this, whose eyes were shut, her head bowed.
