by Bryan Smith
But she still had no intention of killing him.
Not just yet.
“Stretch out on the sofa, Billy. Lie flat on your back.”
He frowned. “What? Why?”
“Just do it, bitch.”
Billy flinched at the epithet, intimidated by the dehumanizing vehemence in her tone, but he did as instructed. When he was flat on his back, Jessica put the gun down and sat on the edge of the coffee table. She began to pull off her boots.
Billy’s brow creased. “What are you doing?”
Jessica didn’t say anything as she stood up and undid the snap of her jeans. The jeans were very tight and she had to force them down past her hips before she could step out of them. The black panties came off next and after that she picked up the gun again.
Billy looked more distraught than ever. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Jessica approached the sofa and placed the gun’s suppressor against his forehead, making him suck in a breath as his eyes widened. There was no hint of anger in Jessica’s expression as she stared down at him. The rage had burned away during the talk with her father. This wasn’t about anger, not really. It was about power and about feeling in control, things that had become very important to her after surviving her previous visit to Hopkins Bend. She had worked hard and had transformed herself, becoming a person to be feared. But that sense of power and control had slipped away, leaving her off-kilter and afraid.
And that wasn’t acceptable.
“I’m going to sit on your face,” she said, her voice monotone. “And you’re going to lick my pussy until I tell you to stop.” She pushed the suppressor harder against his forehead, the cushion beneath him indenting as the back of his head was pressed into it. “And if you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
Tears leaked from the corners of Billy’s eyes and his chest hitched. “I’ve got a girlfriend.”
“So you’ve told me. Here’s some extra incentive for you. If I get any resistance from you, I’ll track her down and kill her, too. You want your sweetheart to die because you had to stay pure for her?”
Billy gave his head a weak shake. The tears were coming in streams now. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.” A faint smile touched the corners of Jessica’s mouth. “Do your best for her, Billy.”
She swung a leg onto the couch and got her crotch into position above his tear-streaked face. Before she lowered herself to him, an echo of the person she’d once been cried out in horror at what she was doing. Something very like this had been done to her and she’d barely survived the psychological trauma and anguish that came in its wake. In a very real, direct way, she was where she was right now because of that act. What was becoming of her? What had happened to her conscience?
In truth, however, she already knew the answer to that last question.
She didn’t have a conscience anymore. The hundreds of dead in Kabul and elsewhere were testament to that.
Jessica moved the gun from Billy’s forehead to the crown of his skull. And then she lowered herself to him, sighing in pleasure as she pressed herself against his mouth and felt the wetness of his tears against her thighs.
“Lick, Billy,” she said, her voice turning hoarse with arousal. “Lick like your life depends on it.”
Which it does.
There was a final hesitation.
And then she felt Billy’s tongue go to work.
17.
Vivian Hunt was delighted to have an opportunity to play with her stun gun. She shocked each of the women hanging from the beam multiple times prior to questioning them about the death of the butcher’s daughter. According to Vivian, this was to “prime” them for the interrogation and render them more likely to tell the truth about what had happened.
And maybe that really was part of why she did it, but Daphne figured simple sadism was the bigger reason. The psychotic purveyor of illicit cuisine enjoyed watching their bodies convulse, as the wicked gleam in her eyes every time she applied the stun gun to their trembling flesh made clear. What cemented the impression was when she briefly shifted her attention to the fat man and jammed the stun gun against his scrotum. The footless man-pig mewled like a baby. That he’d had nothing to do with killing Lexus couldn’t have been more obvious, but that didn’t matter to Vivian. She was doing this only for the sheer thrill of it. After a last leering glance back at her audience, she pressed the stun gun’s trigger and held it against the behemoth’s scrotum until the device automatically cut off several seconds later.
The big man’s body convulsed so violently it caused the beam supporting his weight to make more of those loud cracking sounds. This time, however, the noise was so dramatic it sounded like the wooden hull of an old-time sailing vessel being torn asunder during a storm on high seas. For a moment, Daphne was convinced it would finally give way and send them all crashing to the floor. But the beam again proved sturdier than she imagined and the three of them remained suspended in the air. When the fat man’s convulsions subsided, another ripping fart exploded from his asshole, followed by several more splashes of diarrhea on the floor.
This earned a round of guffaws, chuckles, and groans of disgust from Vivian’s strange entourage. The lady holding her husband’s leash crinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face, while the portly midget’s belly quaked with unrestrained laughter. Even Klaus appeared amused as he rested a comforting hand on his grieving brother’s shoulder. And then Vivian shocked the man one more time for good measure.
When she was done having her fun with the poor son of a bitch, Vivian smiled with great malevolence as she eyed the hanging women. “I don’t wish to waste much of my evening questioning you sows. As you may have surmised, I have invited some very special guests to a rare after-hours meal here at Mama Hunt’s. I advise you not to waste their valuable time with anything other than the absolute truth. Am I understood?”
Daphne and Kate mumbled their understanding.
Vivian smiled. “Good.”
She approached Daphne and jammed the stun gun between her legs. “Tell me what happened to poor little Lexus.”
Daphne’s heart hammered and her breath came in shuddery gasps. It was taking everything she had not to scream at the feel of the stun gun pressed to her vulva. Her soul was laid bare in that moment. She knew she would say or do literally anything if it would keep Vivian from shocking her again, especially with the point of contact in that most intimate of places. She would submit to any other form of degradation or perform any deed requested, including the murder and torture of anyone she loved. She would flay her boyfriend’s flesh from his body inch by agonizing inch for hours with a knife, sear the flesh of her doting parents with a welding torch, or drill a hole through the head of a random child. Any abomination imaginable would be acceptable, if it would spare her this horror.
The one thing she couldn’t tell Vivian was the truth because that would get her killed.
“Lexus was playing with Kate’s feet. Some kind of weird fetish thing.”
“That’s a fucking lie!”
Vivian’s expression turned severe as her head snapped in Kate’s direction. “I’m not talking to you, you disgusting sow. You’ll have your turn to give your side of it. Until then, hold your tongue.”
Given the circumstances, this was a bit of advice Kate should have taken to heart, but her terror of being railroaded by Daphne’s massaging of the truth overwhelmed her common sense. “But she’s lying! She’s the one Lexus was--”
“SHUT UP!”
Vivian’s screech of rage was so loud and shrill it made everyone in the room cringe. It was delivered with such unhinged vehemence it immediately silenced Kate, but for Vivian this was not enough. This was a woman with no tolerance for disobedience. Punishment was required. Kate screamed and tried to twist away as Vivian came at her with the stun gun, but it was no use. Vivian jammed it against her belly and pressed the trigger, holding it down while the device made that sizzling bug za
pper sound.
Though she was struggling with her own terror at what might happen next, Daphne couldn’t help marveling at the expressions of Vivian’s guests. No one looked repulsed or in the least bit unsettled by what they were seeing. To the contrary, they looked like spectators at a circus or sideshow, their faces lit up with an almost childlike delight. Vivian’s stated desire not to waste their time aside, they were enjoying the show and were in no particular hurry for it to end. The midget was even sporting a boner. He was rubbing it through his white trousers.
Vivian stepped back and waited for Kate’s convulsions to end. When she was sure she had the woman’s attention again, she said, “I trust you’ve learned your lesson. No more running that mouth until I say so. Understand?”
Kate managed a subdued single syllable reply. “Yes.”
“Good. Disobey again and we’ll take your tongue out.”
Vivian approached Daphne and stood in front of her with her arms folded beneath her breasts. She made no further threats with the stun gun. Given the pattern established thus far, this surprised Daphne, but she wasn’t about to complain.
Vivian’s tone was almost deferential as she said, “Continue your story, dear.”
Daphne had only one course here—to stick with her revised version of the truth and do it with enough conviction to convince her tormentor. “Like I said, Lexus was sort of…playing with Kate’s feet, like, in, you know, a sexual way.”
Vivian nodded. “Hmm, interesting. I have personal knowledge of the girl’s proclivities, so I’m inclined to believe you. Tell us the rest of it.”
Kate made a sound of exasperation, but the warning glare Vivian shot her way kept her from saying anything. The deep disgust Kate felt at being made to hold her tongue while Daphne told lie after shameless lie was nonetheless palpable.
The woman’s indignation stirred no pangs of guilt in Daphne, who was beyond such considerations now. If anything, Kate’s demeanor fueled her determination to convince her audience. She had acted some in school, enough to have discovered she had a pretty decent gift for the craft, and she tapped into the skills she’d developed back then to help her now. In Daphne’s experience, the most effective one required belief on the part of the performer.
Kate killed Lexus. She kicked her as hard as she could and snapped her neck. I saw it happen with my own eyes. It was horrible.
Daphne conjured an image of the incident playing out that way in her head, taking care to envision it as clearly as possible. She saw Lexus seated in the chair in front of Kate, her yellow sundress hiked up past her waist. The girl squirmed on the edge of the chair while Kate rubbed her face with her foot. This fetishistic interlude had struck Daphne as only mildly odd in light of everything else she’d seen today. But that changed when—without any warning—Kate drew her leg back and…well, did what she did.
This was the story Daphne told. She immersed herself in it so well her eyes were brimming with moisture when she got to the part about Kate killing Lexus. “It was horrible. I’ll never forget the sound her neck made when it broke, like someone snapping a stick.”
Horst wailed at this and clutched his dead daughter’s body tighter against his chest.
Vivian looked almost serene as she did another visual survey of the scene. This involved a glance back at Horst to assess placement of the victim’s body relative to the women suspected of killing her, as well as another lingering appraisal of the location of the kicked-over chair. Of the two primary pieces of evidence, the one most damning to Kate was the chair. Though knocked over, it was right in front of her. The body was another story. It was much closer to Daphne. The matter was complicated by the way Lexus had flopped over after sliding out of the chair, landing at just the right angle to create doubt. Also, it could be argued that a hard enough kick could have sent Lexus reeling in Daphne’s direction prior to expiring. Hell, this was the logical conclusion, based on what could be ascertained visually, but Daphne figured it couldn’t hurt to verbalize the notion.
Vivian, however, was way ahead of her. “It’s obvious what happened. This one…” She pointed the stun gun at Kate. “…has a, shall we say, ‘heftier’ build than the new sow. Longer legs, thicker thighs and ankles, a lot of strength in all that succulent meat. So much strength that when she kicked Lexus, it knocked the chair over and sent her body…” She turned and pointed to where Horst knelt cradling the corpse. “…over there.”
Daphne bit back a sigh of relief.
Horst’s face turned hard as he eased his daughter’s body to the floor and got to his feet with a creaking of old knees. The big German had pronounced age lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. His buzz-cut hair was ghost-white. Daphne figured he was somewhere in his fifties, but he was no less imposing for his age. He cracked his knuckles as he took a few steps toward Kate, glancing at Vivian as he said, “This one is my precious girl’s killer?”
Vivian nodded. “I believe so.”
Kate gasped in disbelief. “No! This is bullshit! You told me I’d get to tell my side of things.”
Vivian smirked. “I’ve decided I don’t need to hear your lies. I’m satisfied with my conclusions.”
“I’m not the one who’s lying.” Kate twisted her head around to glare at Daphne. “I can’t believe you could say all that fucking bullshit with a straight face. What kind of psychopathic bitch--”
But then the breath exploded out of her as Horst slammed one of his enormous fists into her abdomen just below the sternum. The blow was hard enough to send her swinging backward a few feet and he hit her again when she swung back toward him. These were just the first in a frenzy of blows that saw Horst pummeling her midsection like a boxer working a heavy bag. Kate was unable to speak throughout the assault, only managing to gasp and cry out. The punishment Horst meted out was so brutal Daphne did have a twinge or two of guilt, but these were very faint and exceedingly short-lived. She had done what she had to do. If things had gone another way, she could be the one getting the shit beat out of her.
Better you than me, bitch, she thought. Better you than me.
Vivian stared at Daphne throughout Horst’s venting of his rage. And the way she was looking at her was odd, a combination of a smile and a smirk, as if they were sharing a private joke. The deliberate wink she gave her as Horst’s assault on Kate began to wind down confirmed the notion. A crawling sensation went down Daphne’s spine as she realized she hadn’t fooled Vivian at all.
But maybe that was okay.
Daphne decided to take a calculated risk. She looked Vivian right in the eye.
And she smiled.
Vivian winked again.
Hmm…
Daphne couldn’t say for certain why the woman had taken a sudden shine to her, but it was potentially very good news.
Whatever she wants of me, she’ll get. Whatever she asks of me, I’ll do. Without hesitation.
Had she really thought that becoming Vivian Hunt’s personal slave would be worse than death? Well, her close call here had turned her thinking around. She would devote the rest of her life to pleasing this crazy bitch if that’s what it took to keep on living.
Vivian made her smile go away. “Horst, darling. That’s enough.”
The speed and power of the butcher’s punches had diminished, becoming lethargic. Daphne was again reminded of a boxer, this time of a great old champion in the last rounds of a final title defense. He looked tired and ready to stop, sobbing as he delivered each increasingly weak punch. At last, he stopped hitting the woman and stood with his head bowed, tears streaming down his face. You could almost feel sorry for the guy. A morally bankrupt devourer of human flesh the man might be, but he had just lost his young daughter. And even for the crazy, family is family, a powerful connection like no other.
Vivian snapped her fingers at Horst’s brother. “Klaus, take the murdering sow down. She will be our main course tonight.” She jerked a thumb at Daphne. “Take this one down, too. She’ll be joining us.”
<
br /> Daphne gasped.
Vivian glanced at her. “Relax, dear. You’ll come to no harm tonight, so long as you behave.”
Daphne frowned. “So…when you say I’ll be ‘joining’ you…”
“I mean you’ll be dining with us.” She waved a hand at Kate, who was in too much pain from the savage beating she’d endured to register what was happening. “To feast on the flesh of the murdering sow. Unless you have some moral objection and would rather stay up there.”
The dinner guests chuckled at this remark. Daphne couldn’t help noticing that the midget had blown his load at some point. There was a wet stain at the front of his trousers and the size of his crotch bulge had diminished.
Daphne experienced the normal, reflexive disgust at what was being suggested. Becoming a cannibal wasn’t something she had ever imagined for herself. But she knew she had to set aside her repulsion to properly endear herself to Vivian.
She forced a smile and said, “I could eat.”
God help me, she thought. If you can forgive me for all the horrible shit I’ve done, please send the cavalry to rescue me in time to keep this from happening.
As usual, however, He didn’t seem to be listening.
18.
Most of Bedford’s eight thousand or so residents lived close to the center of town, where there were jobs and cheap living accommodations. Life there resembled what most people in heartland America would consider “normal”. Anyone passing through would think it an unremarkable small town, a place that had a degree of rustic charm but also its share of modern conveniences.
