Posted by Menagerie on May 13, 2005 at 19:09:54:
ROAD TRIP
It got to be familiar. But it never got boring.
How could it? The chick was helpless, naked, sprawled out on the table. Looking up at me, crying, begging to be let go; muffled sounds from the gag. Arms and legs straining at the bonds; her body bucking, heaving, trying to free herself.
And Sam emerging from the rear of the trailer. She was buck naked, too; she said she liked to be that way. She always shed her clothes as soon as she got back from town with another victim in tow. Tall and slim, her small breasts high, her narrow hips shifting as she strutted toward us. Long hair pinned up, a cool smile on her face. "I got you a nice one, Boss," she purred, all sweetness and light, as her hand sought and then rubbed my groin.
The girl on the table watched, wide-eyed, as I pulled Sam down to the sofa. The quarters were cramped, but we were used to it--so many months on the road, all these towns, this was our lair. I tore my pants off and pulled myself free; she already had her wet, sloppy mouth all over my chest and chin, and one hand full of long, tapered fingers guided my cock into her hole. As her twat sucked me in, her sweet and salty lips worked over my cheeks and mouth; she writhed beneath me, her hot body radiating through my shirt, and her long legs wrapping around my own. She knew what got to me, and she did it so well.
I burst inside her, the rapid pulse of jizz leaving me weak and comfortable. The motion slowed and stopped, and we lay, panting, the only sound the hums of the trailer. And the whimpers of the chick on the table.
Sam wanted it that way. She wanted our coupling to be the last thing the girl would see. This one had been down by the supermarket; Sam was so good at looking lost, frustrated, and told the young housewife her boyfriend had dropped her at the store for cigarettes and stranded her there. Sure, she said, I can give you a lift back to the trailer park. And she was more than happy to come in and see how Sam had decorated it...I was crouched in the cab, knife at the ready.
As I held the blade to the chick's throat, one fist full of her long, dark hair, Sam stripped her. Nicely slender, leggy and tasty; her tits firm and high. She was frozen in terror; Sam quickly stuffed the woman's panties into her mouth, then cinched the plasticuffs around her wrists before she sauntered to the back. "Be right back," she cooed, undoing her jeans as she parted the curtain.
I dragged our newest playmate to the sofa. The initial taking was always the best, watching the panic in her eyes as I undressed and then mounted her. She struggled beneath me, but then stopped, and I knew why—I could always tell by their look when Sam had returned, wearing nothing by a lopsided grin, a balled fist resting on her hip as she watched the fun. "Save some for me, lover," she giggled, and her hands on my shoulders got my jizz up. The woman gasped through her makeshift gag as I violated her; I then straightened up and, very deliberately, once, twice, backhanded her across the face. The ritual was always the same. Sam was smirking; the woman's face was turned, and showed pain. Only the beginning.
Sam was a dirty little girl, and I ought to know. She put my own mean streak and blood lust to shame. We used to go at it at night in her backyard, in the pup tent her younger brother and his friends used as a fort during the day. It went on for years; at first, we just played Doctor, but eventually I used her every way I could think of, and she wanted more. I choked and bit her and fucked her with whatever tools I could find.
She liked blood, I found out, and when I’d cut her with my knife the two of us would share it. She’d laugh, dip a finger into the wound, put it in her mouth, and then in mine. Or I’d suck at a cut on her tit or her wrist like a vampire; I wasn’t that crazy about it, but it really got her started. I’d smear my cock with her blood, and she’d go way down and suck me off, licking every drop off me. It was wild and nasty, but it stayed between us, until Lizzie came along.
She was Sam’s friend from school, a pretty little redhead, very pale and very soft. I came by one night, and the two of them were giggling and sipping wine out of a brown bag. I was a couple of years out of school and working at the plastics factory, and those guys at the factory were on something harder. A lot harder.
We doubled dared Lizzie, and eventually, the pills had her tongue lolling and her eyes glazed. She soon found herself in the pup tent, tied up with her own knee socks; Sam squatted on Lizzie’s face while I stuffed my cock into her, and the two of us swapped soul kisses while the girl moaned and thrashed beneath us. When she stopped moving, we didn’t even notice.
I tried to snap Lizzie out of it, but she was gone. No breath, no pulse. Sam frantically got dressed as I slapped the inert girl, punched her. “What are we gonna do?” she hissed.
I had an idea. “Roll her up in that,” I said, pointing to the tent roll. “We can get her out of here and to my truck.” I was parked at my house, across the street; we trundled Lizzie out of the yard and down the driveway. “Then, what?” Sam wanted to know. I really didn’t have a plan; we needed to dump her somewhere.
“Whose is that?” Sam asked.
There was a beat-up old camper, parked a few doors down. Snowbirds, up North visiting, I decided. “Somebody’s grandparents,” I said. “So what?”
Sam didn’t say anything, but she giggled, and started tiptoeing over to the trailer. It was dusk; the streetlights still weren’t on. One arm still holding Lizzie’s legs, Sam lifted the driver’s side handle. The door popped open; a rusty old set of stairs magically descended.
“Our getaway car,” Sam smirked, and pointed. The keys were in the ignition.
I didn’t waste any time. Fifteen minutes later, the trailer was rumbling down the Interstate. The dead girl was stowed under the fold-out sofa; Sam had found some beer in the fridge. “All the comforts of home!” she declared.
“Until they catch us,” I muttered, and she shook her head, her long, tangled mane flopping. “Just find a trailer park,” she said. “They all look alike, and we can switch plates and be out before daylight!”
When you’ve got a corpse stashed in your stolen camper, a plan like that sounds good. We went several hours before pulling off, somewhere in Indiana. A few hours’ sleep, a couple more for fucking, a quick move on a dark camper with a screwdriver, and we had new plates and were ready to head out. “How about her?” asked Sam, jerking a thumb toward the sofa.
While looking for the tools, I had found a couple large garbage bags. “Let’s chop her up and dump her,” I suggested. There was a huge, community dumpster by the exit.
Sam eagerly agreed; I had never seen her eyes light up like that, and she hovered over me as I pulled the table down from the wall, lugged Lizzie out of the sofa and spread her out. Despite rigor mortis, there was still a lot of blood; I grabbed her mop of red curls and threw her head into the bag, then her legs and arms. “She looks like a pig,” Sam said, fascinated. What was left of her kind of did; just a torso, little, freckled tits popping out, the stumps where the arms and legs had been.
I paused, sweating; we were keeping the light in the camper to a minimum, the shades drawn. The sun was coming up. “Oink, oink,” I kidded, squeezing one of the breasts, and Sam laughed, eerily. “I think we should keep her,” she said. “There’s a big freezer back there.”
I had been deer hunting with the old man, when he wasn’t in an alcoholic stupor. I opened Lizzie’s belly, cleaned her out, chopped her up. We wrapped the meat in the other garbage bag, threw the rest of the crap away, and barely slowed down as we passed the dumpster and tossed most of Lizzie inside. I gunned it as we swung back onto the Interstate and headed south; Sam was clinging to my arm. “Let’s find a nice picnic ground,” she said in that rich, dark, musical voice, “and fix a snack.”
There were kids playing in the park nearby when we pulled off in the rest area. A couple of slices out of Lizzie’s back went on the grill; the sizzling, savory smell of greasy meat filled the air, and the kids came by, curious. They pointed at the filched plates. “California?” one said.
“We’re just visiting friends,” I told them, wielding a big fork. “Scram, or we’ll cook you guys next!” They hustled off; I plunged the fork into a hunk of flesh, put it on a paper towel, and Sam picked it up and lifted it slowly to her lips. She closed her eyes, opened wide, and took a big bite, chewed, slowly shaking her head back and forth. “Mmmm,” she uttered. “This is goooood. Let’s go enjoy it inside,” grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the camper.
Sam fucked me like she never had before, just plastered all over me like she was trying to climb inside me. “That meat is so good,” she kept whispering, “such good girl meat.” I kept thinking of Lizzie’s parts in the dumpster, and her body chopped up in our freezer; it got me going, too, and I was tracing my fingers along Sam’s bare legs and her ribs. “Good as yours?” I came back. “Now, here’s some good meat; mmm, mmm, good,” sinking my teeth into her neck and plunging into her again. I heard her pained gasps, a squeak at the end of each breath, as I bit her, only a little less savagely than she had bitten into the cooked flesh of her friend.
Lizzie became our drug. We would devour pieces of the girl just before sex, and then just go at it for hours, all the while talking like that, talking about Lizzie being meat and how Sam was meat, too, laughing and screwing and biting. I loved the feel of Sam between my teeth, a big mouthful as I pressed down, just hard enough so she could enjoy the pain. And the chunk of what used to be Sam’s school friend sat there on the table that folded down from the wall of the camper.
But we gradually ran out of it, somewhere in western Kansas. “We need more Lizzie,” was the way Sam put it. I agreed that we needed some more, and Sam had an idea. It worked that time, and would keep working.
The girl who gave her a lift back to the camper was a big girl, part Indian, picking up some things at the convenience store on her way home from the community hospital, still wearing her unie. I held her in a chokehold with the knife at her throat while Sam pulled off the uniform; “Maybe we can use that, later,” I told her, and she nodded. She used the plastic cinches we had found in the tools to tie the now naked girl’s wrists tight; she probably weighed over 200 pounds, I decided, as I bent her double and pointed her toward the sofa.
As I rammed myself into her, one hand over her mouth and the other still holding the knife against the side of her face, Sam got undressed. She tried on the girl’s uniform-“Perfect fit,” she called out from the sleeping quarters in the back-then showed back up still wearing the girl’s tunic, unbuttoned, and nothing else. We tied the girl’s feet and slapped tape over her mouth; she watched us, frightened, from the sofa as we got down on the floor.
When we were done, Sam’s eyes shone as she fingered my knife, still clenched in my fist. “I think we should have some fun,” she giggled; I handed her the wicked cutter and lifted the big girl onto the table. For the next hour—two hours—Sam and I delighted in sticking the girl and hearing her squeal through the gag. We plunged the blade through her tits, shoved it up her cunt, carved letters into the soft, rubbery flesh of her belly.
There was blood all over the place, and Sam and I took turns sucking on it and feeding it to each other. We got down again and fucked, covered in the stuff, and I felt like I was on horse when I got back up, looked right into the Indian girl’s eyes, lifted her chin with one finger, and cut her throat. She kicked those big feet like a fish flopping, and then died.
I did a more thorough job of butchering her this time. Everything that looked like meat went into bags; Sam laughed that she had picked up the new supplies at the store and brought our next sex food girl home with them. “I deliver,” she mocked. The meat was wet, slimy, slippery; her head and guts went into the big trash bag, and on our way out, we followed the campground’s orders to keep the place clean. Before then, Sam and I had a meat orgy, gobbling down meat from the girl’s legs and ass in between fucks.
The meat wasn’t quite like Lizzie’s; the fat made it taste stronger, maybe. But Sam and I kept comparing this girl’s flesh to the redhead’s, and that kept us going and got another orgasm out of me every time.
After the Indian girl--and the leggy housewife, up in the Black Hills--we kept moving west, into the Rockies. There were plenty of campgrounds, and the bored guards took our money--the housewife's money--and waved us through. I hooked up the camper; it was rocky, rugged terrain, mountains off in the distance, and a long line of RV's docked like pigs at a trough. "Maybe we should switch," Sam suggested; our stolen camper had bloodstains all over the floor and walls, and it kind of reeked.
"Sure," I grinned; I was turning a couple of cutlets from the Indian girl's ass on the griddle. "Find a nice, little old lady who'd like to swap."
Sam scouted, prowling the line of RV's in her T-shirt and cutoffs. It wasn't a little old lady, but a fortyish blonde and her teenie daughter, off on a trip across the country. "I think their trip ends here," she said, looking down as she toyed with one of the knives.
They really did have a very nice rig, lots of homey decorations, a nice, comfortable, big bed for the old lady. After they showed us around, I invited Mom to check out our setup. She saw most of it while lying on the floor, a bloody rag in her mouth, while I stripped her and tied her up. She mewled into the makeshift gag while I looped a noose around her neck and tied the other end high up above the window; she tried to get off the sofa, she'd strangle.
I headed back to their camper; Sam was already coming back. "She give you any trouble?" I asked, and my playmate smirked. "Go see for yourself," she said.
Little Suzie was tied naked on Mom's bed, spreadeagled, choking on her own gag. Sam had thoughtfully shoved a four-cell flashlight about six inches up the girl's cunt, and when I pulled it out, it dripped blood. "Get ready for a long ride," I told the terrified girl as I mounted her; she had short, dark hair, kind of a pixie face, sharp chin and slanted eyes; it did me good to whack her across the face a few times with the bulb end of the flashlight, before I pushed into her.
After I had some fun with her, fucking her with the flashlight and hammering her a few times with the buckle end of my belt, I left her there to writhe and whimper, and went back to check on Sam. She’d pretty much had the same idea; Mom had a lug wrench up her, and Sam—naked, as always—was using a pair of pliers on the broad’s nipples. She had big, pillowy tits, and they were all purple and bruised; she was making gutteral noises into the gag, and it ran wet with her spit. “I say we cut her down,” I remarked, “and take little Suzie with us.”
“Read your mind,” Sam giggled; she already had the knives and plastic bags out. “One for the road?”
As the terrified woman watched, Sam and I sunk to the floor and went at it, hard. Our two latest victims had stirred me up; I cracked Sam a couple of times hard across the face with my open palm. Her head spun and her eyes glazed; then she looked back up at me and grinned, spitting blood. “Save some for them,” she purred, as we both started humping in unison. I looked over my shoulder at Mom, who was gingerly tugging at her ropes, trying not to fall with that noose around her neck. “You better hope I last a real, long time,” I gasped out to her, and her eyes got even wider.
But I was done, and we lugged the old lady up on the counter. She was a little fat, not big and beefy like the Indian girl, just kind of soft and cushy. “We’ll have to trim a lot of fat,” I said, flashing the knife as the woman gurgled and looked up at it, then me. “Have that bag ready.”
The blood just poured out when I split her open. It was a real mess, adding to the old stains on the floor and walls. Mom's eyes rolled back in her head and she gurgled into the gag a little before she stopped moving. The guts went into the bag; I cut off her head, held it up by her short, stringy brown hair. "Maybe we should save it," I said. "Something for Suzie." Sam giggled, reached for it; she grabbed the ears and held Mom's face against my cock. "We''ll use it for training," she laughed.
Mom took a while to butcher; I sent Sam back to keep an eye on the daughter. Dawn was coming fast; I wrapped as much meat as I could in some freezer bags and was throwing it all into a burlap sack when I heard a beep-beep. Sam had pulled their camper up alongside ours, leaning out the window, smiling sunnily. "Let's pack our provisions and scoot," she said. "Your new friend is anxious to make your acquaintance."
Suzie was cowering in the bathroom, tied up tight. I let Sam handle the wheel and dump the sack of body parts while I looked after the kid; her mouth, bruised and bloody, felt good on my cock, as I pushed her face into my crotch. This would truly be a relaxing leg of our journey.
They were going to be looking for us, though, I knew. We had abandoned a bloody trailer and a bag of human entrails back in the mountains. We grabbed some more plates in Idaho and continued on up into the Northwest; when I spelled Sam, I could hear her in the back, taunting Suzie: "Don't worry, we'll keep you alive a good, long time...we got enough from your mom to last us awhile...I just love to watch you squirm," as some sharp object or a pair of pliers grabbed hold of the babe's most tender spots, and the high-pitched squeals came through the gag. I munched a sandwich I'd made from Mom's tit, washed it down with a Coke--don't need some enterprising cop seeing me with a brew--and savored the moment.
I was really starting to get into the taste. The meat was strange at first, kind of like pork that’s been soaked with a bunch of flowers, very strong and sweet. But then you start looking forward to it, and by the time we finished Lizzie, I really craved it. When we’d pull over for gas, I was eyeing the chicks in their cutoffs and tops, and I could see right through them, see the meat. I would think about them that way, think about them lying on that table, cut up, bagged up, cooking on the grill.
I’d think about Sam that way, too. She had that sassy look, when she’d crinkle her nose and squint. When we were done balling, I’d run my hands over her, and I’d think about running that knife through her, her smile turning into a cry of pain. She was so smug when we were slaughtering the others, enjoying every bit of it; I just wanted to see her get it. That would be cool.
Sam went too far with Suzie a couple days later. We pulled into a rest stop at 3 a.m., dragged the kid onto the big bed, and took her on together, my cock up her ass while Sam throttled her with a coathanger. I took a break, zipped up my pants and went for a pop, and when I got back, Suzie was dead, sprawled on the bed, eyes bulging, her piss forming a puddle on the floor. The coathanger was tight around her neck; Sam was sitting cross-legged on the bed, smirking. "I just wanted to watch her die," she said, and when she looked at me, her eyes just flat-out climbed into mine.
We shoved the kid onto the floor and went at it, fucking wildly. "That coathanger trick..." I panted; I reached down, untied Suzie's wrists, and held the rope in both hands over Sam. I saw her lips curl into a smile, her eyes shine; "Do me," she begged.
Her tongue protruded as I got the rope wrapped in a fist and twisted it; she erked and ahked, gagging, and I pushed into her frantically. I let go when I came, and she went limp, choking for breath. We both stopped struggling, and I finally asked her, "How 'bout that?"
Cutting up Suzie was a lot easier than her mom. Their camper was really equipped and actually had a Dutch oven in there; we slow-roasted one of Suzie's haunches as we tooled down the Coast, sliced it up for dinner. It was very moist and sweet, kind of a hot pink; Sam ripped off the cunt lip and gobbled it down like licorice, holding it over her head and lowering it into her mouth. It was really a sight. Afterwards, we both took handfuls of the congealed grease in the bottom of the oven, smeared it all over each other, and headed for the shower. It was big enough for the two of us to kind of lie down in if we scrunched our legs, and we balled in Suzie's rendered fat on the vinyl floor, rinsing the stuff off each other when we were finished.
We had crammed as much of Suzie as we could into the freezer with parts of her mom; we had enough meat to last us weeks, so Sam bought a few cases of beer with their money and ID and we headed for an East LA trailer park. I didn't think the dude at the office would be too suspicious; the first thing he did when I slapped down the deposit, was offer me some weed. We anchored down and spent the next couple weeks balling, toking, drinking and gorging on as much of Mom and Dau as we could stuff into our mouths.
But we got down to scraps quick enough--a girl, we learned, only has so much edible meat on her--and started getting the hunger again. We went back to the supermarket routine, Sam taking a cab out there late one night and then pretending to have been abandoned. The local store had a bunch of bums hanging out front all the time, drinking wine out of brown paper bags. And some teenagers in their tight jeans and stiletto heels; one of them, Lucie, had an old Chevy, and when Sam flashed some of the weed we'd gotten from the trailer park attendant, she was more than happy to give her a lift.
I had disconnected everything and was all set to split as soon as we got Lucie under control. The barrio chick was bursting out all over, big tits, big ass, and a very accommodating twat; I rode the grunting, twisting girl on the big bed, backhanding her and throttling her, as Sam got us back on the highway and heading for Nevada.
This one was different than the others. She glared at me, writhed in the plasticuffs; torture just seemed to get her going more. Suzie and the housewife had just shrunk and cowered when I beat them, and I saw Sam was keeping an eye on her, too. "Maybe we better off her right now," she suggested; I was slumped on the little couch, while the naked, dark skinned girl was still fighting the bonds on the bed. "Naw," I said. "Find us a place to spend the night, and I'll get her under control." I got up, grabbed Lucie's kinky, black hair; her eyes shifted toward me, and I smacked her again, the flatedge of my hand high off her temple, sending her facedown to the bed and sobbing. "I'll break her," I said. "Don't worry."
I believe Sam was getting a little jealous. Lucie fought and bucked so hard, I was drenched with sweat when I finished fucking her; I kept talking about how she was built. She had really meaty legs, kind of broad shoulders; her figure was just really exaggerated, and my mouth watered when I thought about chopping her up. Sam was more long and lean.
She pulled us off at a campground that was practically deserted, found a spot that was hidden from the road. For the first time, she kept her clothes on and watched, while I tortured the girl. I was holding a screwdriver blade to a lighter and laying it on her body; it raised big, red welts, and Lucie would shrill through her gag, but she never quit glaring at me and, I guess, cursing me.
"Come on," I told Sam. "Join the fun." She reluctantly unbuttoned, stood up and let the denim shorts drop, shrugged off the shirt. I saw a gleam in her eye as she put a knee on the bed and closed her hands around Lucie's throat; she was squeezing, gradually putting more pressure on, very deliberate. I saw what she was trying to do.
So I got an arm around Sam’s neck, twisted a wrist behind her. She turned to me with her face twisted in rage, mouth contorted, and I cold cocked her.
Sam toppled to the bed with a sigh, and I very quickly bound her wrists behind her and then hogtied her. Lucie had momentarily stopped struggling and her eyes widened as she watched me; I turned Sam so they were back-to-back, and then looped slipknots at both ends of a rope, put the nooses around both their necks, and cinched them tight.
Sam was coming to. "There!" I said. "Either of you move, both of you choke. Now, I need to do some thinking," and I headed off to the front of the camper.
I could still see them from out front. They both lay completely still; Sam looked bewildered. The Latina just plain looked hot; she was breathing hard, and was slick with sweat. I looked them over, back and forth; Sam, my partner in all this, the girl who was even meaner than me. Who sucked my cock when I soaked it in the blood of the girls we slaughtered; who helped me murder and dismember them. And some chick from the barrio. Damn, she looked hot.
I walked slowly up to them, and took the big knife out of the cupboard. It was a weird night; the crickets were so loud, you couldn't hear the hum of the camper. The wind was at a dull howl, through leafless trees. I kind of cradled the blade in my other hand, kept my eyes on them, tap-tapping the knife into my palm. They were both looking up, and I saw Lucie swallow, hard.
"You know what I do, Lucie?" I asked; she shook her head. Sam whimpered through the gag.
"I kill girls," I told her, "and cut them up. Want me to do that to you?" She shook her head again, harder; her eyes filled with tears. I pointed the knife at her belly, and she let out a little "Eep" through the gag. Then, I pointed the knife at Sam.
"Want me to do it to her?" I asked. Lucie hesitated, just for a second. Then, she nodded.
I crouched down. I was so close, I could smell them both. Lucie kind of smelled like a garden, soaked in perfume. Her body heat made it intense. Sam reminded me of a dirty alley, and a backyard. And blood.
The knife plunged into Sam's belly; I slashed upward. The bed was soaked in her blood. Sam's eyes closed, and she gritted her teeth against the fabric. I could see her guts; I pulled out the knife, and then lay the blade against her throat, and started sawing, back and forth. She relaxed, but her teeth were still bared. Lucie watched, rigidly, not daring to move.
I undid the noose around Lucie's neck, rolled her onto her back, and clambered up on top of her. I got down on my haunches, straddling her; those big boobs felt good against my ass, and I grabbed her by the hair again, and pulled her head up. "You do what I tell you, from now on," I said. "OK?" She closed her eyes, nodded her head repeatedly, fast, up and down and up and down.
Sam was still laying next to us, her head almost severed, the rope around her neck hanging to the floor. Still holding the bloody knife in my other hand, I reached down and undid Lucie's gag. "Let's see what you're about," I said, pointing my dick into her mouth, and she gratefully took it in.
We stayed at that secluded spot for two days; I dug a hole and dropped what was left of Sam in it. The freezer was full when we headed back east, across the desert. Lucie does everything Sam used to do. And she brought home a very nice soccer mom from the grocery store in Las Cruces.