With frightened eyes, Gina stared at Steve, who was sitting naked on the bedside with a knife in his hand. He grinned; she was not screaming, she was not trying to run away. Her face was nothing short of beautiful, her eyes big and dark, her lips very full, her hair dark brown and swirling around her shoulders. The legs her brief shorts revealed were slim, tanned, and smooth.
"Get your clothes off," he ordered in a low voice. "Now, missy!"
She caught her lower lip with her teeth and seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she nodded and began unbuttoning her shirt. "Whatever you want," she said in a slightly tremulous voice as she pushed it back over her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were softly rounded, delicate-looking, her nipples tiny and pert. She pushed her shorts down; her stomach was athletically flat. Her panties went last, exposing smooth, lightly-haired pubes with prominent vaginal folds. Steve licked his lips.
Once she'd finished removing her clothes, he told her to sit down on the bed beside him. She did, putting her hands on her knees and staring fixedly at the floor. "Now you listen," he told her, "and you listen good. Them two kids you're babysitting are gonna be just fine, as long as you do what I say and exactly what I say, as long as you let me do whatever I want to without an argument." He waved his knife in front of her suggestively. "We got a deal?"
She nodded. "We've got a deal. I'll do whatever you want."
"Good!" he grinned. "You wanna suck my cock, then?"
She glanced up at him. "Sure," she answered. Without hesitation she leaned over his thigh and scooped his semi-erect penis up with her tongue. As she drew it between her lips she brushed her dark hair away from her face so he could see, and she applied herself to her task vigorously. Still holding his knife in one hand, he played with her breasts with the other, teasing and pinching her small nipples roughly.
She didn't object. After a moment she paused, looked up at him. "Do you want to screw me?" she asked, even managing a not too obviously forced smile. "Or do you want to come in my mouth?"
"Just keep sucking," he growled. She nodded, took him back into her mouth, began moving her head rapidly up and down.
After a few minutes, he stiffened; she held his penis between her lips, swallowing his semen as it spurted into her mouth. For several seconds after he'd finished she mouthed him gently, looking up at his face as she licked at his now-fading erection.
"Sweetheart, that was real nice," he told her as he pushed her back to a sitting position beside him. "Real nice!" He looked at her eyes, put his arm around her shoulders. "You're being real nice and cooperative! You just gotta remember now, you can't scream or fight me. Okay? You do, them kids get hurt!"
"I won't," she assured him, snuggling against him and stroking his penis, doing her best to please him.
"Good girl," he said softly. Bringing his arm across in front of himself, he touched the point of the knife to her side, pressing it into her skin a little.
She frowned, but she didn't glance down at it, she kept her eyes on his face. "What're you doing?" she asked directly. He shook his head sadly. "Honey, in a way I hate to, but I got to kill you." Squeezing her shoulder, he pressed a little harder with the knife. "You got to understand, I just don't have no choice; you can identify me, you can send me to jail. Remember now, we got a deal. You be quiet, don't you fight me. Not if you want them kids to be okay."
She watched his eyes carefully, reacting only with a little wince when he tightened the knife up a bit more. "I wouldn't say anything," she told him, rushing her words. "You got what you wanted, you could just leave and I wouldn't--"
He looked exasperated. "I can't take that chance," he told her as he tightened up on the knife once again.
"I don't want to die," she said, her voice calm but strained. "Please. I don't want you to kill me. Can't we--"
"No, we can't," he said, pressing harder still; her side was deeply indented now. "Now look: this is your choice, baby. We gonna stay with our deal, or am I gonna go after those kids? Well? What do you say?"
"Oh, please... please, don't hurt me..."
He glared. "Make your choice!" he demanded.
She hesitated, biting her lip. "Don't hurt the kids," she said. "Do whatever you want to me. Don't hurt the kids."
"You sure?"
"Yes." Her shoulders sagged; her body quivered, she choked back a sob; she looked absolutely terrified. "I'm sure. Like you said, we had a deal."
"Okay. Here we go." Smiling at her with what resembled real affection, Steve allowed his hand to slide down her arm before moving to her waist; then, pulling her toward him a little, he started grinding the knife more firmly into her side. "'Member now, you can't scream," he said in a low voice. "Those kids'll hear you, they'll come running in here and, well, neither one of us are gonna have any choices left then. You understand?"
She chewed her lower lip. "Yes..."
"Good." Pulling her toward him, he tightened up the knife even more. She winced again, but she remained silent; blinking rapidly and still chewing her lip, she kept watching his face. After a moment, the blade broke through her skin and began sinking slowly into her side.
Her eyes flew wide open and her mouth dropped open as well; she shuddered as it slipped softly into her body. Blood welled out, spilling onto the bed between them.
"Oh, my God," she whispered as the blade sank deeper. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh..." She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment and her head jerked several times, but she did not struggle with him. She remained motionless, she allowed him to pierce her side deeply.
"That was real good," he whispered in her ear. "You're a good girl, you know that?"
"It hurts," she whispered back hoarsely. "Oh, God, it hurts, it hurts so bad!"
"I know. I'm sorry, but I gotta." He moved his hand up from her waist, cupped her breast, and squeezed gently; then he pulled the knife back a little and slid it in again, at a slightly different angle. As before, she sat quietly and let him to do it. Tears streamed down her face; blood appeared at the corner of her mouth, dripping onto her chest.
Slowly, he pulled the blade free from her side; even more blood spilled out then, soaking the bedcovers. Steve sat watching it flow; trembling, still sobbing, the girl watched too. After a moment he pushed gently on her shoulders, laying her back on the bed.
"Please," she begged, her gaze moving between her bleeding side and the knife. "Please, please, don't hurt me any more, please..."
He leaned over her, looked down at her. "I wanna ask you something," he said.
She looked up at his face. "Ask me something?" she repeated, confused.
"Uh-huh. Look, when we're done here, what do you wanna do about the body?"
Her expression of bewilderment increased. "What? What are you talking about?"
He laughed harshly. "The body. Your body. After you're dead, what do you want me to do about the body?"
Incredulous, she stared. "I can't believe you're asking me that!"
"Well, shit. I can just leave it here. Leave the door hanging open, let them kids wander in here whenever they wake up, let them find it. Shit, it don't matter to me. I just figured hell, you're being real brave, you deserve a say..."
She grabbed his hand. "Oh, please, please, if you believe that, please don't kill me, please, just go, just leave..."
He jerked his hand away and waved the knife threateningly. "Look, now, there ain't no use in that," he reprimanded. "You've done made your choice and that's that. I gotta do this; I can't leave you here alive."
"Oh, god, please...!"
"I said no. You stop arguing with me, now; you remember what I'm gonna do if you don't keep your end of the bargain!"
She closed her eyes tightly. "Oh, God," she moaned again. "Oh, God, just do it if you're going to do it, just get it over with...!"
Again he laughed. "I'm going to, in just a minute here; what's your hurry? Anyway, you ain't told me what you want me to do about the body when it's all over."
She turned her head away. "Can't you--can't you take it with you?"
"Shit! No, I can't! Besides, I ain't got no way to clean up all this blood, now do I?"
"I don't know..."
"Well, I don't. So. What do you want me to do? It's your call."
She looked back at him, composed herself with a seeming effort. "Put... put it under the bed," she told him. "Put... no, no, they'll find it... no, just leave it. Leave it--wherever." She pointed toward the door. "Lock it as you go out," she told him. "Just push the button and close it. Leave the lights off. When the kids knock and they don't get an answer they'll call 911." She nodded, wiped her eyes. "Yes, that's the best thing..."
"That's what I'll do then. I give you my word." Leaning over her, he grazed her flat silky stomach with the point of the knife. She took in a breath sharply. "I guess it's time we got back to business, huh?"
"Please," she whispered, pain and desperation in her eyes. "Please!"
He shook his head. "Sorry," he answered shortly. The knife's point continued to graze her skin, gliding up over her breasts, teasing each nipple, moving around to her side, seeking the shallow valleys between her ribs. "You just relax now," he advised. "Just relax, just take it easy, it'll all be over real soon." She cried softly; he reached up with his free hand and stroked her face gently. The knife stopped searching; the tip was resting just under her breast on the right, between two of her ribs. His hand still on her cheek, he gazed into her eyes and increased the pressure on the knife, indenting her skin deeply.
"Oh, no," she moaned softly. "No, please, no...!"
"Shhh," he whispered. "Be quiet, be still; let me do this right..."
She fell silent; she chewed her lower lip, her body jerked and trembled, but she didn't move and she didn't cry out, not even when the blade broke through her skin and started sliding slowly down and in. A trickle of fresh blood appeared around the steel, then quickly increased; after a moment it became thick with foam. Smiling at her, he forced the blade on down, as deeply as possible, then pulled it almost gingerly up and out. Blood pouring steadily from her wounds, she squirmed on the bed, pulled up one leg, stretched it out again.
"You're good, honey," Steve told her as he sat watching her. "Real brave. You oughta be proud."
Her teeth chattered briefly. "I'm not," she muttered, her voice thick. "Oh, god, I'm so cold, I'm so scared...!"
"I know," he said, not unkindly. He took her hand, leaned over her, kissed her bloody lips; then he pulled her up, held her body tightly against his own. He looked into her eyes; she gripped his arm tightly. Smiling again, he drove the knife almost lovingly, almost gently, into her breast.
Her eyes widened and her legs stiffened; she made an odd gurgling sound and began fighting for breath. "Let it go," Steve advised as he drew the knife out and stabbed her again, a little lower this time. "Let it go, die..."
She sighed softly; Steve, watching her face; thrust the knife into her belly again. She went limp against him, her eyes were open but staring sightlessly.
"You were a good girl," he told her as he pulled his knife out of her. "You were a real good girl!"