Posted by hisdinner on November 12, 2005 at 00:13:04:
11-11-05
A Tender Peach
Annie's Blog, November 4th
What I like best about our hunts is the moment when the girls realize what is about to happen to them. I love the feel of their skin and how it changes when we tell them. Matt likes to call it Processing the Meat, but it's more fun than that. Maybe he's trying to make me feel better about what he does to those squirming, shrieking little piglets. I swear he forgets that I enjoy our hunts as much as he does.
And even though I haven't done it yet, I think I enjoy the kill as much as he does, too. Watching him take a trembling girl and wrench her life away—or watching him take it softly, sweetly—or swiftly, with cold precision—Each time I watch him kill a girl, I thrum. You know that feeling, when the blood all through your body hums and pounds, and your skin is on fire and it tingles with electricity? That's what Matt gives me, every time he kills a girl.
November 11, 2005
Bookstores yield such sweet, soft girls. Cassie sat in the corner table at the front of the store, almost pressed against the glass. She might have been a little gem in a jewelry display case, or some delicacy at the butcher's. Matt smiled at that last image. She'd look better on a bed of parsley than in some little velvet case. Such a juicy little girl.
For the last five minutes, Cassie hadn't turned a page although she'd been making a show of reading—what was it? Matt couldn't quite make out the title from his vantage point back in the stacks. He'd been studying her movements as she wandered through the books and finally settled in her window seat. Matt smiled. He wondered, was this little piglet consciously setting herself out on display, or was she really a timid forest fawn, wanting a clear view of the dangers that might be lurking just behind the Reference Section?
Cassie brushed long, pale blond hair away from her face; she crossed and re-crossed her legs. When she straightened to sip her latte, she purposefully arched her brows and lowered her lids. She was trying to seem aloof. Matt smirked. She didn't fool him one bit.
I could feel his hunger. He wanted to know this girl from the inside, out. And so did I. Matt sipped his coffee, nonchalant. But he already owned her with his eyes.
I popped a mint into my mouth. I watched his face. It was funny; I swore I could see him eating her, claiming every juicy bit of that luscious little blond creature. He caught me looking at him and something in his look was locked away. Desire? We both felt that fire. I wondered why he was trying to hide it. I looked back at the girl. Irresistible, ripe.
"Both of us, do you think?" I ran my finger up the back of his hand and felt his heat. I wasn't sure just how to approach this one.
He grinned. "How else, love?" He winked at me, and he turned around the corner of the bookshelves to close in on her.
I hesitated. "She might spook." He grinned, and suddenly his body adopted a slacker pose, that No-hurry, No-worry mien. I took a deep breath and willed my body into a semblance of his nonchalance. Back at her table, Cassie took another careful sip of coffee.
We ambled over to the shelves just beyond her table. Her glance flickered over us. She was nervous, alright. But her body shifted toward us, subtly. She was ripe for plucking. Good.
Matt touched my arm. Electric. I breathed in his scent. The hunt was on.
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Cassie had bet herself that she wouldn't make it for two minutes by herself in the coffee shop, but so far, she was handling things just fine. Her roommates both had dates tonight. They'd given her those fake-pity looks as they left. She couldn't stand it.
"I am not a poor thing, dammit." She'd found herself talking to a bag of salad as she straightened up the kitchen. She blushed. "I'm out of here." Yeah, she thought, it was time to get out, see people, maybe meet somebody. She crammed the salad back into the refrigerator and stomped down the hall, feeling a tenuous bravado that she did not want to lose.
"Get me out of here before I lose my nerve." She jumped into her car and headed to the strip of stores closest to the campus. It was really too close to drive, but she was afraid she'd chicken out if she had too long to think about it on the way there.
She didn't even begin to have the nerve to hit the bars alone, but the bookstore? Sure. Well, maybe. Standing in line for her latte had been nerve-wracking. She could feel all the eyes on her even after she told herself she was exaggerating. Most the people here were in couples; they had no interest in her. Cassie sighed. At least she'd found a great spot right at the window, so she could look out at the foot traffic in the strip mall and keep watch inside as well. She tucked a leg beneath her and adjusted her schoolgirl skirt, trying to get comfy. She opened her book. She pretended to read.
She lifted the book up so that the cover was visible to the other patrons. She blushed and put it back down on the table. It was called Erotic Heat, and she'd chosen it in another rush of bravado, and now she felt pretty stupid, sitting here alone at night with a book that practically screamed, "I am horny!"
She picked up her coffee and sipped it. Put it down again, unconscious of the froth on her upper lip. Each clattering spoon, each screechy chair distracted her and she looked up again, watching the couples lean in to whisper confidences over their coffee. There were a few loners like her around the edges, men with computer books, women with laptops and headphones or self-help books, senior citizens reading newspapers or doing crosswords. Not a white knight in sight. No dark prince, either.
She thought about getting a cookie, she thought about getting laid, she thought about giving up and going home. Finally, Cassie focused on a Mendra poem, "Sex." She wished she could follow the advice on the cover: Share this with someone you love.
Cassie sighed again and sipped her latte. Cold. She jumped up to get a hot one, maybe an espresso this time, she thought, something to give her some sort of buzz. She dropped her wallet, ducked down to grab it, and bumped into a couple on her way back up. She lost her balance and tried to not fall against the two. Where had they come from?
The man was dark-eyed, bearded, and he was trying to hide a slight smirk. Or maybe he wanted her to see it. Maybe he liked seeing her so flustered. Those eyes, Cassie thought. They seemed to suck her inside. She felt so hot. Cassie knew she was staring at him, but she couldn't help herself. He'd gripped her arm to steady her but made no move to let her go or to regain any distance; they stood close enough to feel each other's heat.
I felt their heat from where I stood. Too soon to get so intimate, or was it? I smiled at her and said, "You have a—" and gestured to my own face, drawing a finger across my upper lip, indicating Cassie's milk moustache. Cassie eye's widened in embarrassment as comprehension dawned on her. Matt watched me as I pulled out a tissue and daubed Cassie's face. Like a mother would. Like an older sister. I gave her my softest smile, and patted her cheek.
Cassie's voice was barely audible. "Oh geez!" This strange new couple had moved to either side of her, somehow, and they were acting as if—what? As if they should be there, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
"Um, thanks--?" Cassie prayed she didn't sound as stupid as she felt. Her face glowed scarlet and she knew the world was watching now, seeing this elegant couple treat her like a retarded child, cripes, washing her face? She wanted to crawl into a hole.
"I'm Annie, and this is Matt. Sure, sweetie. Happy to." I touched Cassie's arm to reassure her. Matt had let go of her but remained close to the flustered girl. Too close, I thought. We don't want her getting the willies here. I gestured to her table and she nodded. We sat on either side of her, keeping her between us.
Matt had been sitting back, smiling at the two of us, watching Cassie gain a few moments' composure. I watched him and saw the devilish glint in his eyes as he picked up Cassie's book. She was toying with her coffee cup, groping for something to say. When she saw the book in his hands, her face went crimson again.
"Sounds pretty hot. Uh, ---?" Matt looked at the girl, searching for a name.
"Cassie. And I don't know, I just grabbed it and god, do I sound as stupid as I feel?" Cassie grabbed her purse and stood up. "Nice to meet you guys, but I better get going."
"We were leaving, too." Matt smiled evenly and rose from his chair. I fell into step beside her, making small talk about the posters lining the wall as we made our way out. Matt followed close behind us, still playing the laid-back professor type.
Our little peach bounced along to whatever Green Day song was pouring from the speakers. She seemed relieved to be getting out of the shop and oblivious to her new circumstances. Good.
Outside the bookstore we strolled past several café tables laden with soggy cups of coffee and students enrapt in passionate debates or tentative romances. Cassie led the way, chattering about her roommate Grace, and how she'd laugh her ass off when she heard about Cassie's milk moustache faux pas. She didn't seem to think it was strange that we were accompanying her to her car. If she did, her manners and her previous embarrassments prevented her from questioning our actions. I swear-- she could not have made it easier.
Cassie stopped at the driver's door of a little Honda Civic. I'm sure Matt groaned as much as I did—our legs would be screaming after a couple miles in that tiny car. But we rolled with the punches when such a tender peach was offered us. As she fumbled in her purse for her keys, I dug in my purse for the zip-bag that held an ether-soaked cloth.
Cassie opened her car door and slipped into the driver's seat, then turned to say goodnight. "Oh, wait, honey, there's still a—" I bent into the space, pointing to a spot on my upper lip again. Cassie looked embarrassed, but she didn't flinch. She looked prepared to endure one last friendly gesture before she could escape us for the night.
By the time she smelled the ether and squawked in protest, it was too late. Matt had managed to round the car and climb into the passenger's seat beside her. He held her down. My adrenaline was firing as I clamped the cloth over her nose and mouth and felt her struggle. In a few moments she was limp and pliable. He tugged her gently toward him as I pushed my way into the driver's seat. She moaned faintly. Her little plaid skirt was rucked up high on her thighs, and her white blouse was twisted tight, outlining her breasts.
"Stop ogling her and let's get out of here, Annie." Matt had fastened Cassie's seat belt around her. She slumped in the seat as if she were sleeping or passed out. It was a little early in the evening for such a sight, but not that uncommon in a college town. Matt squeezed into the back of the tiny car, and we headed to the farm.
I drove while Matt played with his limp, delicious toy. He pulled her hair away from her neck and slipped his hands around it, as if sizing her up for hanging. He whispered things into her ears. I could just make out, "—across your throat if you're good." And "from the rafters." Oh, that Matt. He always enjoys playing with his food.
At last it was all down to this: Cassie stripped bare except for her little silky panties. One of Matt's true joys is hearing them squeal when he cuts the panties off the conscious girlies. Cassie's skin was golden-toned, even this late in the Fall. I traced my hands up her arms to the ropes that lashed her wrists to the table legs. Her muscles quivered just beneath her skin. The night was surprisingly warm, but she shivered when I stroked her. I ran my nails lightly up from her belly button to the pulse in her neck. She moaned and twisted her head back and forth, looking at both of us. Her eyes were still cloudy, confused.
Matt had tied her face-up to the work table in the center of the floor of the old barn before he left to adjust the lights. We had at least three cameras going. When he returned, Cassie licked her lips and croaked, "This is a mistake, it's all a mistake." She coughed a little.
Matt smiled. "Oh no, Cassie. Make no mistake, you're our meat now." He prodded her belly with his fingers and hefted her breasts. He grinned.
"Your what?" She trembled, and I watched her. I could not resist combing the silky hair away from her face. I checked the cameras paths. I wanted to be sure we didn't miss a thing.
"Cassie, we brought you here to play with you a little bit, and then we're going to kill you and eat you."
My eyes never left her face as I spoke the words. It was like a magic spell, watching the transformation. Cassie's huge blue eyes went wild with disbelief. She twitched and struggled and felt the bonds around her wrists and ankles. Her head twisted, craning upwards to see the rope wrapped so painfully tight around her wrists. She felt the air on her—I swear I could see the goosebumps form—and she looked down and realized her nakedness. Shame shot through her features. When she looked at the knife in Matt's hand, her features went slack momentarily, and then her sweet face twisted and she screamed.
What I like is to lay my palms against the contours of their bodies—just at that moment when they realize. I like to mold my hands lightly to their velvety skin and see if I can feel the electric shock that runs through those girls-- at the moment they know. When Cassie screamed, I swear I felt that tingly jolt rush through her. It's almost as good as the when he kills them.
Matt feels the way I do, I think. I think that's why he always waits till after they start screaming and begging before he fucks them. You can tell by the way his eyes widen that those girls are tight. He always likes to slap them and tease them while he's pounding into them, too. Sometimes he has me untie their legs. I love to reach in between them and feel him as he rams inside. I usually kiss them, too. Cassie kept twisting her head away from me before Matt hit her a couple times. When I finally got to kiss her mouth, she tasted of tears and blood more than the latte she'd drunk. I told her she was a good girl. She only sobbed some more, but she was quieter about it.
He finished up and brought the block and tackle rigging down from the rafters. She howled and begged some more when he clamped her ankles into irons on opposite ends of a spreader bar. She was still on the table; he hadn't hauled her up and tied her off just yet. But even so, I was getting so aroused, it was hard to think.
"Annie, you want to do the honors this time?" Matt stood opposite me, across the table. Cassie lay between us, sobbing silently, snuffling. I wiped her nose with a tissue.
"You want me to haul her up? I'm not sure I can do it," I answered, taking out a fresh tissue and blotting her nose again. She stared at me through teary eyes. Her lip was trembling.
"No. I mean, take her out? Do you want to slice her?" Matt picked up his favorite knife and held it out to me, across Cassie's body. She writhed as the knife passed over her belly and into my hands. I took it before I realized what I was doing. Did I want to slice her? Boy, I really wasn't sure. The knife was solid, heavy, deadly. The feel of it made me throb and ache. It made me hot. I wanted to make love. I wanted to feel Matt pounding into me right then. I moaned a little, and Matt chuckled.
"You really get off on that knife, don't you, Annie. You wicked little vixen."
I smiled at him. "I do," I said, playing the blade across my own body, running it from my nipples and down to my pubis. "Oh god, Matt," I whispered. "I could come if you just touched me."
"Baby, baby, you are such a slut. But do you want to cut her?"
All the while, Cassie had been sobbing, begging, wailing, pleading for us to stop, to let her go, to listen to reason. Her skin was super-hot now, pliant, and her muscles were twitchy and hard beneath. She was so lovely. She arched her head back. I watched her pulse.
"I do." Oh my god, my heart raced! I was really going to do it this time, wasn't I? The roaring in my ears must have almost matched what Cassie was feeling as Matt hauled on the ropes and she was wrenched upside down and off the table. My pulse was pounding by the time she started slowly circling between us.
Matt had tied her off so that her face was even with my breasts. I stripped off my top and I stepped in close. I felt her breath on my skin. My skin was hot and velvety, too. I let my palm cup her throat as I touched my own. I swear our pulses were in sync. I took a long, shuddery breath and let it out.
I felt Cassie's life throb beneath my fingertips. I felt Matt's eyes on me. Did he have any idea what I was feeling? Did he get it? I raised my face to stare at his. The cameras made my eyes look big as saucers, I swear they did.
I stepped back far enough to get some leverage. Matt spoke softly. "There's my good little girl." I remember wondering, "Does he mean me?"
Cassie sobbed once more. And then I pushed down on her chin, and slashed across her throat, and let her life go.
Nothing before or since that moment can match what I felt right then. Even watching her roast, even slicing up her juicy flesh. Even tasting her. There is nothing better in this world than killing girls.