"Please," Eileen begged. "Please. I don't want to die in here, not in this dark dirty place, please don't kill me in here!" Naked, she looked very young, very fragile. Her face was extremely youthful, her mouth pouty, her eyes large; her breasts were large but perfect, high and pert, and her legs were just as magnificent.
The man who'd chased her into this storage shed, the man who'd attacked her while she'd been sitting nude on the private stretch of Florida beach, grinned darkly. "That ain't gonna get you noplace, honey," he told her. "Everybody's gotta give it up sometime; it's your time now." He sounded confident, but he was keeping a wary eye on the small kitchen knife she'd found somewhere, the one she was holding defensively in her hand. He waved his much larger knife at her. "Look, it's like I told you, it ain't nothing personal, it's just business."
She glared at him and waved her little knife back. "What kind of business?" she demanded. "I haven't done anything to anybody! Why're you doing this?"
The man laughed. "Yeah, I know, sweetheart," he answered. "And you're right, I guess--far's I know you ain't done nothin' to nobody. It ain't you, it's your daddy."
She blinked. "Daddy?"
"Yeah. He's been talking about things he shouldn't be talking about. A bigshot lawyer like your daddy, well, he oughta know he can't go around talking about his clients, y'know?"
Eileen frowned. "Yes, I do know--I've heard people tell him that before--but why me? Why don't you go after him?"
The man shrugged. "There's a couple of reasons," he told her. "First off, your daddy ain't easy to get at. Second, we still have uses for him. We just want to teach him a lesson. That's what I'm here to do."
She lowered her knife a little. "You're going to kill me just to teach daddy a lesson?"
He nodded. "You got it." He stepped toward her and she raised her knife again, pointing it at him. "Now come on, don't make this harder than it has to be, you can't--"
"No, I know, I know," she interrupted, speaking rapidly. The expression on her face reflected fear, desperation, resignation--and something else, something undefinable--all at once. "No, I know I can't get away from you and I can't hope to beat you--I don't want to die but I know you're going to kill me." She paused, collected herself a little. "Look," she went on, her manner more controlled now. "Look, this is a private beach, there's no one here today except me--please, I just don't want to die in here, in the dark. Let's go back outside, just take me outside, outside in the sunshine, you can kill me there, I'll let you do it, I won't fight you, I won't give you any trouble..."
He watched her eyes. "All right, fine. Why not? Outside. Gimme that knife, and we'll--"
"No! I don't trust you! If I give it to you you'll kill me in here!"
He snorted derisively. "Then there's no deal, lady." He shook his head; holding his own knife ready to strike, he took another step toward her. "Hell, it won't work anyway. What my boss wants done, you can't stand still for that nohow."
Her eyes were large and round. "What does he want?"
He stopped advancing on her, hesitated, shrugged. "He wants me to slit your belly open. Let you bleed to death."
She was silent for a few seconds. "That'll hurt a lot, won't it?"
"Damn straight. That's the idea. The boss, he wants your daddy to know you suffered."
"I see. That's makes sense, I guess. Poor daddy..." She shook her head. "But, damn it, he got me into this, he should've thought! He should suffer too--and he will, if he knows I suffered a lot..." She raised her eyes, gazed at him steadily. "Okay," she said, though her voice wasn't steady. "You can do that, I'll let you. I can take it, I can stand still while you do it."
"Shit!"
"No, I can, I can stand it!" She smiled broadly and thrust her chest out at him challengingly. "If you want me to," she offered, "I can show you. I can take a lot of pain!"
The man laughed. "Show me? How?"
"You let me keep my knife, and I'll--put it away." Her face relaxed, she smiled, and then she actually giggled. "In a sheath."
"I don't see no sheath."
She kept smiling. "I'll make one." She patted her bare hip with her hand.
The man, understanding her meaning, laughed more loudly. "Honey, you are a wild one! You're crazy if you think I'm gonna believe that!"
"Do we have a deal or not?"
He waved his hand. "Oh, sure. We got a deal; you do that and we got a deal! Let's see you do it!"
"Okay--okay. You step back. Near the door."
He did as she said. Eileen, after taking a deep breath, looked down and studied her right hip and thigh for a moment. Carefully, she pressed the point of her small knife into her flesh, just below the crest of her hip, aiming it inwards and downwards along her smoothly tanned thigh. Gripping it tightly, she looked up at him and, catching her lower lip with her teeth, thrust her chin forward.
Then, suddenly, she pushed down hard.
There was a ripping sound as it broke through, as it sank into her leg. Her face tightened and she gave voice to a little gasping sob, but she pushed again, forcing it on down into her thigh, burying the blade completely. A thin stream of blood trickled down her leg.
"Okay," she said, taking her hand away. "It's in a sheath. Let's go outside."
"Honey, you are something!"
She giggled again. "So I've been told. Let's go, please, let's get out of here."
He opened the door. "After you."
"No. You first."
He shrugged again, and went. The knife still standing in her thigh, she limped after him. Once outside, she walked to a nearby palm tree and leaned against it, supporting herself with one hand.
"Okay," she said as he came close. "Let's do it, let's get it over with; there's no point in putting it off."
He grinned and studied the knife piercing her thigh closely. "Let's do what?"
Her eyes were large again. "Kill me," she said simply. "Cut me, cut me open. That's what you're going to do, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "That's what I'm gonna do."
She laid her left hand against her abdomen and looked down as he brought the knife closer. "Do it, then," she said softly. "I'm not afraid. I might scream, but there's nobody around to hear."
"Oh, you'll be screaming all right, baby. Take my word for it. But like you say, ain't nobody around."
She grinned. "We'll see, won't we?"
The knife's point touched her, just above the joint of her hip on the left; she shuddered and she closed her eyes, but she didn't move. He poked her with the point, hard but not hard enough to break her skin. She winced a little but remained still; he poked her harder.
She opened her eyes and smiled. "Well, c'mon, baby," she urged. "What's the matter, can't get it in there?" She looked down at it; he was holding it tightly against her, pressing a deep valley in her skin. "Need me to help you?"
"Don't think so," he said. Then, with a sudden hard thrust, he ran two inches of the blade into her.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, ah, oh God! Oh, God, yes, do it, do it, come on...!"
Watching her face curiously, he slowly and gently slipped two more inches of it inside. She trembled and gasped, but she offered no resistance, she just kept staring at the knife, watching it go in. Once more he shoved it forward, sliding yet another two inches in.
Then, while the blade remained deep inside her, he stopped. She was still trembling, her body was stiff; but the expression on her face, her mouth softly open and her eyes closed, suggested something other than agony.
Finally she relaxed a little and she opened her eyes. "What are you waiting for now?" she demanded, her voice ragged but somehow seductive. "Weren't you going to cut me, weren't you going to cut me open?"
"You're getting off on this, aren't you?" he asked in turn.
She actually smiled. "Does it matter? Does it make a difference if I am?"
He shrugged. "Nope. It's just weird, that's all."
"I've always been into pain," she confessed. "It's always turned me on. And I've had, well, a lot of fantasies--about being murdered--" She sighed. "I've always sort of hoped that I'd die this way--that someday I'd be murdered." She looked up at him; her smile was still there, and her eyes were soft. "So you can do whatever you want to me--you can take your time about it, you don't have to worry about me..."
He shook his head. "You are something, honey," he told her. Still grinning, he started pulling the knife upward slowly, cutting through the skin and muscle of her abdomen, withdrawing about half the blade's length as it came. She trembled violently and again stiffened in apparent orgasm. With her fingers she started pulling the incision open, allowing more of her blood to come spilling out. The man paused for a moment, watching her eyes, then pushed the blade far back into her body once more. She groaned loudly and bent over it a little, then pulled herself straight again.
"How you doing, honey?" he asked while the blade remained deep inside her.
She tugged at the wound a little more before looking up at him with half-lidded, sleepy eyes. "Good," she murmured. "Good, good, I'm doing good. Ah, my God, it hurts! I want more, I want you to hurt me more, cut me more, do that whole thing again for me, cut me and push it way back inside me..."
"Just what I had in mind," he said, pulling the knife upwards again. As the knife moved a great gush of blood followed, rushing down over her lower belly and legs.
She moaned. "Hurry," she urged, pulling hard at the wound, spreading it open. "Hurry, do it, cut me, oh, God, I'm coming again, oh, cut me, stick it in me, kill me, murder me, oh Godddd...!"
He did as she asked; repeatedly thrusting the blade deeply into her, he cut her all the way up to her solar plexus before pulling the knife completely free.
She sank down on the ground, first kneeling and then lying in a rapidly-widening pool of blood. She stared down at herself; her entrails were bulging through the deep slit in her belly. "Hold me," she begged. "Hold me, hold me, please, I'm dying, I'm so cold, so cold...!"
Again, he granted her wish; kneeling beside her, he pulled her mutilated body against his own
and held her close. She laid her head on his shoulder, he put his arm around her shoulders; then he
plunged the knife back into her in the vicinity of her navel. She grunted, then sighed as he pulled the
blade free and let her blood flow. She quivered and spasmed; he merely held her for a moment, then
stabbed her again, a little higher. After another stab, straight in through her right breast, he stopped
and waited for her spasms to stop, for her to become still, for her to finish her dying. It did not take
long.