Afternoon sunshine streamed softly through the upstairs window of the small and isolated Mediterranean farmhouse, spilling across the bare-wood floors and turning the oak highlights into splashes of flame. On the floor against one wall sat a lovely girl with long dark hair and large hazel eyes, naked and thoroughly tied. She'd long ago quit testing her bonds; surrounded by pieces of the clothing she'd been wearing when she was kidnapped, she sat quietly, waiting for the drama she was unwillingly involved in to move onward.
Her name was Nicole Duvalle and she was only eighteen, a student at an upscale private schools outside of Nice. Earlier that day, as she was walking back to her dormitory, a sports car had pulled up beside her on the street. The man behind the wheel, a slender and wiry American whose command of French was somewhere between terrible and nonexistent, had started asking her for directions to a local hotel. He'd phrased the question in guide-book French, and she'd answered in French; his response was to look puzzled. Finally, she'd switched to English, which she spoke well, but with a rather heavy accent. Still he'd seemed not to understand. Getting out of the car, he'd stood close to her as she pointed the way and described the turns that would take him to his destination.
She hadn't noticed him glancing around, making sure they weren't being observed. When he acted, he'd taken her so totally by surprise she had no time to do anything; she merely felt her shoulders being seized, and the next thing she knew she was in his car, in the passenger seat, and the car was moving again. Her initial response, once the shock of being hurled into the car had passed, was rage; that had, however, quickly turned to terror when the man had pointed a heavy black .45 at her and had told her, in a voice that brooked no argument, to be silent.
Though she was sure she'd been kidnapped and was to be held for ransom, and equally sure was facing rape, she'd fallen silent, and she'd remained silent as he drove her to the farmhouse. A woman had met them at the door, a strikingly attractive dark-skinned and dark-eyed woman a bit older and somewhat smaller and slimmer than Nicole. Seemingly nervous, the dark woman had ushered them in and had closed the door quickly.
"Damn," the woman breathed as she looked Nicole over. "This is her?"
"Yeah," the man answered. "Nicole, meet Cass."
"She's fucking gorgeous!"
The man grinned. "Yeah." He gestured casually toward Nicole with the gun. "C'mon, now," he said. "Upstairs."
"What are you going to do?" Nicole asked as she moved obediantely toward the stairway.
"I'll tell ya in a minnit," the man answered. "Let's just make sure things are under control first."
Nicole didn't argue with him. She mounted the stairs, and, at his instruction, entered one of the sparsely-furnished bedrooms. She turned to face the window and crossed her wrists behind her back at his command as well, and she stood passively while he bound them with nylon rope, complaining as he did about being unable to find duct tape in local hardware stores. Then he told her to sit on the bare floor with her back against the wall and she'd done that too, accepting his helping hand as she awkwardly sat down and noticing that there were two new-looking steel rings screwed into the wall, and two more screwed into the floor, where he was telling her to sit. Once she was in position he stuck the gun in his waistband and used another length of rope to secure her upper arms to the two rings. Using two more pieces, he then secured her ankles to the rings mounted in the floor.
"This is not comfortable," she complained. She nodded toward the bed, which, along with an antique-looking chest of drawers, was the only furniture in the room. "Why you did not tie me there?"
"Cass and I might be using it," he explained with a grin. "'Sides, the owners of this place are gonna be pissed when they see the holes I made in the wall and floor for these rings. You wouldn't want it to be for nothing, would you?"
Then he drew a switchblade knife from his pants pocket and snapped it open. The blade gleamed brightly; Nicole gasped. "What are you going to do?" she demanded.
"Right now, just get you more comfortable," he explained with a short laugh. She shrank from him as he moved the knife toward her, but all he did was pop the buttons off her blouse. Once he had it open, he cut carefully around the arms, finally removing the garment in three pieces.
"Oh no, please," she begged as he began slitting her skirt.
"Now now," the man said. "My rule is, people who're tied up don't have any say-so about what goes on. Just be still. You wouldn't want to get cut, would you?"
She paled visibly. "Oh, monsieur, please..."
Ignoring her, he continued to remove the skirt, leaving her clad only in black bra and panties. She squeaked out another protest when the knife's blade slipped between her full breasts and cut her bra in half, and yet again when it glided over her hips to divide her panties. But, within minutes, she was sitting there totally naked. Not once had he so much as nicked her fine satiny skin with the blade.
"Are you going to... rape me?" Nicole asked in a tremulous voice.
"I dunno. Haven't decided yet," the man answered with a grin. He laid the knife down on the floor, stood up, and glanced toward the dark woman, who'd begun to undress. Idly, he watched her as she stripped down naked. She was more than appealing; her skin was an even dark cafe-au-lait from her nude sunbathing, and her firm perky breasts were a perfect handful.
"Damn, Denny," the woman said as she knelt beside the bound girl. Her very dark eyes flashed with excitement. "This is fucking great! You're really going to kill her? Right here, today?"
Nicole's eyes grew huge. She seemed to have been struck speechless as Denny nodded casually. The dark girl--her name was Cassandra Papalous--was an American tourist of Greek ancestry that Denny had picked up in a bar in Nice some three weeks earlier. He'd spent the night with her, and the next morning he awoke to find that she'd discovered some of the tools of his trade. She'd suspected what that trade might be--that he might be a hired killer, which he was.
From the first moment, though, she'd made it clear that he didn't frighten her; rather, he--and what he did for a living--excited her, and she was even more excited when she learned that he more or less specialized in doing women. Remembering that morning, his grin broadened. Cassie had asked him to tell her, in detail, about some of his hits; after a little resistance he'd done so. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Cass stripped down, undid his pants, and began giving him a long, slow, sensual blowjob while he talked. It became a pattern with them, something they did at least every other day. She'd strip, kneel in front of him, and suck him expertly. He'd cup her smallish breasts in his hands and talk about his adventures; right from the beginning he noticed that, whenever he described where he'd shot or stabbed some woman, she'd put her hand on that spot on her own body. After he'd shot his semen into her mouth she played with herself, sometimes having four or five orgasms before he finished a story.
He enjoyed her; he enjoyed her and he genuinely liked her. And so, with only a little initial resistance, he allowed her to talk him into taking her along on his next job, which was also in France and wasn't far away. And now the target was before them, bound and helpless, naked and utterly vulnerable. As yet, she hadn't been harmed in any way.
But that, of course, was about to change. Cass knew it, and now, so did Nicole.
Denny pulled Cass to her feet and kissed her hard; then he began undoing his own shirt. The dark girl began caressing his chest as soon as it was exposed; eager, she tugged at his belt, undoing it, then pushed his pants down. He stepped out of them, then removed his shoes and socks, leaving himself as naked as the two women.
"Is there... any certain way you have to do this?" Cass asked.
"No. Long as she dies, we can do whatever we want."
"Are you mad?" Nicole cried, finally finding her voice. "You can't mean it!"
"Oh, but we do, darlin,'" Denny told her. "And I wanta get started pretty soon here."
"No, please, I--!"
Shocked, she fell silent as Cass dropped to her knees and swept Denny's cock into her mouth. It wasn't yet hard, but it quickly telescoped to full extension as she sucked it passionately. Smiling down at her, he let her work it with her lips and tongue for several minutes before finally pushing her head gently away.
"Time to get to work," he said, kneeling in front of Nicole and picking up the knife off the floor.
Nicole stared at it. "You can't mean it, no, you can't," she said, shaking her head. "You can't mean to just kill me! It's murder, it's just murder!"
"Well, honey," Denny told her, "it's what I do, y'know?"
Still on her knees and breathing so hard she was almost panting, Cass moved a bit closer. She reached out and touched Nicole's right breast with her fingertips. Initially the French girl flinched away, but then she stopped moving, just watching the other woman tease her nipple erect. "Let me tell you what I want you to do," Cass said, glancing up at Denny's face. "She has beautiful tits... really beautiful. I want to see your blade going into her chest, right through this beautiful tit." Nicole squealed an unintelligible protest and shook her head vigorously. The terror in her eyes was obvious. Grinning, Cass stroked her own breast with her other hand. "Do that for me, Denny?"
Denny grinned too. "Sounds like a great way to get things started," he agreed. He leaned forward, stroking Nicole's firm high breast with his left hand; Cass moved her hand to his cock and began working it slowly.
"Monseiur, you can't just kill me!" Nicole cried, obvious panic in her voice. "Why? Why would you do this? This is insane!"
"Oh, come on, honey," Denny said, sounding almost paternal. "You're gonna die here today, ain't nothing gonna stop that, you might as well get used to the idea."
Nicole shrank back as far as possible. "But why? Why?"
"'Cause I was hired to."
The girl looked like she'd choked on something. "Hired to? Why? By who?"
He shrugged. "Your father doublecrossed certain Sicilians, and they're pissed off about it, so they hired me to teach him a lesson. You're the lesson." He leaned a little closer to her. "Now, you gotta know, I could've done you right out there on the street; nothin' was said about how this job was to be done, the Sicilians just want you dead. But I didn't wanna that. I brought you back here for a couple of reasons."
"What reasons?" she quavered, although a tiny gleam of hope had appeared in her eyes.
"'Cause you're gorgeous," he said with a grin. "I'm kind of a specialist, I specialize in hits on women; lotsa guys in my line of work don't like doing women. I do. I really like doing good-looking women, and you gotta know, all my targets ain't good-looking. 'Sides, Cass here's never seen a hit, and she wants to."
Nicole groaned as the hope in her eyes died away. "No, please, please, don't kill me," she begged. "I can... we can have fun..." She stared at his cock pointedly, then looked up at Cass. "I like womens too..." she added, although she didn't sound convincing.
"Hell, we know that," Denny answered. "And we're gonna have some fun. Now, like I said, my rule is that people who're tied up don't get a say-so. But that don't mean you can't join in the fun."
Nicole hung her head for a moment. "I do not... understand..." she whimpered.
"'Kay, lemme explain it." He waved the knife in front of her. "See this blade?" he asked. "That's what I'm gonna do you with. It's fucking sharp, honey. Now, I know what you're gonna say. But lemme tell you, it don't hurt as much as you think it does. In a minnit you'll see that, but right now you just have to take my word for it, you--"
"But I not want to die!" she cried, her English becoming poorer as panic set in.
"But you gotta," he explained patiently. "And it'll be a lot better for you if you get into it."
"No... please, please..."
"Just do her, Denny," Cass interrupted. "Come on, I want to see it going in her, I want to see her bleeding..."
"Patience, darlin'," Denny told her. "You will, I promise." He touched her cheek as she played with his wet cock with her hand. "If you were the target," he said, "you'd get into it, wouldn't you?"
Cass sighed. "Mmm... you bet I would! If I were in her place, I'd want to get off first, and I'd want to get you off at least once. I'd want to blow you, I'd want you go down on me, and I'd want you to fuck me. Then I'd want you to stick that blade in me and fuck me again while I was bleeding!" Her excitement more than obvious, Cass dipped her head again and, taking his cock back into her mouth, began to bob her head back and forth with long strokes, letting her full lips glide over the whole surface of Denny's cock.
"My kinda girl," Denny said with a nod. He slipped his hand between Nicole's legs and started teasing her genitals. At first she tried to clamp her legs shut--because of the ropes she couldn't, all she could do was bring her knees close together--but then, perhaps thinking that this might delay or dissuade him, she opened them and let him do what he wanted. "Okay," he went on. "Want me to go in through her nipple, over it, or under it?"
Cass let his cock drop from her mouth and straightened up. "Over it," she said, playing with him again with her hand. Her other hand dropped between her legs. "Oh, man... I'm all wet now..."
"Our little Nicole is getting there too," Denny noted with a broad grin. He kept playing with her, and at the same time he poked her right breast with the point of his knife, just over her nipple. Nicole squealed and flinched when the cool steel touched her, but she quickly calmed down. Gently, Denny pushed a finger up inside her vagina. She looked up at him, then at the knife, then back at his face once again.
Her eyes were immense. "Please, Monsieur," she whispered. "Please no..."
He pressed the point in a little harder, causing her to flinch again. "Honey, I gotta, it's my job," he explained. "'Sides, I want to, and Cass here wants me to. You're outvoted, two to one. Don't worry, I'm gonna do this first one quick, getcha into it."
"Do it, Denny!" Cass urged. Her voice was rough, gravely, urgent.
"Yeah, it's time," Denny agreed. He grinned and pushed hard with the knife.
Nicole squealed again, a sound with a very different tenor; she pushed herself back against the wall trying to escape the pain, her whole body rigid, her head thrown back, her eyes tightly closed and her face contorted. It didn't matter. The razor-sharp blade breached her skin quickly and sank smoothly and evenly into her chest. Her arms and legs were taut against her bonds, and her thighs were clamped tightly around Denny's forearm. Her body quivered.
"Oh, God," Cass breathed. "God, that's beautiful..." Staring at the blade piercing the girl's breast, she pumped Denny's cock furiously with her hand. "Beautiful..."
"Yeah, I love seeing a fine body like this one with a knife sticking in it," he said. He released the knife, and it stood rigidly in the girl's chest. It has pierced her skin very cleanly, and there was almost no blood visible at all.
After several seconds, Nicole raised her head and looked down at her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Mon dieu," she sobbed. "Mon dieu..." She looked up at Denny and Cass. "It hurts..."
"Denny, why isn't she bleeding any more than that?" Cass asked.
"'Cause the blade is blocking the hole," Denny told her. "Watch." Before Nicole could protest, he reached out and pulled the knife to the side a little. Blood suddenly welled up and out, flowing over the girl's erect nipple, dripping onto her slender thigh, and running from there onto the floor. "See?"
Cass watched it flow, transfixed. "Mmm... yes... Damn, Denny, this is just great!"
"We'll get even more when we take it out," he added. He pulled the knife quickly back and out, and, as he'd predicted, the blood ran out even more freely. Nicole gasped and made a coughing sound as it came free. A little blood appeared on her lower lip.
Leaning forward, Denny licked a little of the blood from her nipple. It was quickly replaced. With a tentative finger, Cass reached out and touched the girl's nipple, then licked the blood from her finger.
"Tell you what," Denny suggested, "Let's stick her one more time and then you can go down on me for a couple of minutes." He glanced at Nicole's face and arched his eyebrows. "Unless she wants to do the honors..."
"Oh, no, nono," Nicole begged. "Please please, no more, no more..."
"Honey, we gotta do more," Denny said patiently. "It'd take hours on end for you to bleed to death from that one stick. Hell, you probably could even survive it, y'know?"
"No, please, please, do not hurt me, I beg..."
Denny paid no attention. He turned to Cass. "Where should we put it this time?" he asked as he worked his finger in and out of Nicole's now-soaked vagina.
"Her other tit?"
"Can't. She'll drown in her own blood and we'll lose her real quick. We gotta leave her with one lung working." He ran the knife along Nicole's right side. "How about in between her ribs, right along here?"
Yet again, Nicole squealed a protest, but Cass nodded eagerly. While the dark girl watched the whole process closely, Denny found a suitable spot and began forcing the blade in again--more slowly and evenly this time. Nicole gave voice to a long high-pitched squeal as the blade began sinking into her; but, even before it reached its full depth she'd run out of shriek. Breathing hard, she remained passive as he pulled it out, reacting only by closing her eyes tightly and grimacing. More of her blood came spilling out, adding to the pool already on the floor.
"I'm dying..." she moaned. "Dying... mon Dieu... dying..."
"Yes, you're dyin' all right," he agreed. With his finger still inside her vagina, he leaned over and licked more blood from her nipple. As before, it quickly returned. "Dyin' can be a real turn-on," he told her. "If you let it. You ought to be concentrating on what I'm doing with my hand."
"I cannot... Monsieur, I can't..." She hung her head.
Denny gazed at her for a moment. "You ought to try," he insisted, apparently genuine concern in his voice. "This'll be really different if you do. First of all, you gotta accept it: in a little while you're gonna be dead. No amount of beggin' and pleadin' is gonna make any difference, and this ain't the movies, honey. Nobody's gonna come bustin' in just in time and save you. This is the end for you. Now you can sit there and be scared and think of us as some kinda monsters and be miserable or you can try and get into it some. If you do it'll be lots better for you. Take my word for it, I have lots of experience."
"Don't you find it exciting?" Cass added. "I would, if I were in your place. I'd--"
Nicole lifted her head abruptly. "Then take my place!" she snapped.
"The contract," Denny reminded her as her head dropped back down, "isn't on Cass. Come on, honey. Everybody's gotta go sometime..."
She didn't reply, and her head continued to hang. Denny shook his own head. "Cass, you wanta go down on me again some?"
"I'd love to," she said enthusiastically. Matching an action to her words, she laid down on her side on the floor and scooted over in front of Denny. In a moment his cock was in her mouth. While she sucked him, he continued to work his fingers in and out of Nicole's cunt, and, laying the knife aside for the moment, teased her breasts with his other hand. She said nothing and she continued to let her head hang, but, after a few moments, she began moving her hips a little against his hand. Denny grinned.
Cass, meanwhile, continued to work at Denny's cock. With her eyes turned up toward his face, she repeatedly drew it deep into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. Sensitive to him now and aware that he probably didn't want to come until Nicole was a bit further along, she stopped whenever she sensed he was getting too close. He knew what she was doing, too. Occasionally he glanced down at her, giving her an affectionate smile.
"Better stop for a minnit now, Cass," he said after a while. "And sit up. I think it's time we moved our little friend here a little further along."
As Cass quickly sat up, Nicole raised her head. "Oh, please!" she cried, understanding exactly what he meant. "No, don't do it!"
Denny picked up the knife. "Honey, we gotta. Just remember what I told you."
Silent for a moment, she stared at him, then cocked her head to one side. "What you are going to do?" she asked. "Tell me, I... I think maybe if I know..."
"I'm gonna stick you in the gut," he told her. "Okay? This first one'll be quick." She continued to stare, her head cocked, but she pushed her hips forward a little against his hand as she waited.
He grinned. Then, with a quick light move, he buried the blade in her belly, just above her navel. She groaned and squirmed. "See?" he said. "Don't even hurt that much anymore, does it?" He snicked the knife out and plunged it in again, an inch higher.
"My God, that's so incredible..." Cass murmured.
Leaving the knife sticking in Nicole's belly, Denny looked around at her. "You wanta try sticking her, Cass?"
She looked amazed. "Uh--no, I can't even imagine doing that myself, Denny..."
He nodded. "I thought so." He slipped the blade free, and more of Nicole's blood came gushing out. "How we doing, honey?" he asked her.
"I'm cold," the French girl murmured. "Feel strange..."
"Yeah, you've lost a lot of blood," Denny told her. He put the knife against her lower belly and began easing it in. "Go down on me again, Cass. She's not going to last a whole lot longer now." He shifted his postion so Cass could still see while she was sucking him.
Cass obeyed, although she was left in a somewhat awkward postion. Nicole wept another weak protest as the blade slipped gently into her gut; but then, as it went home, she shuddered as if in orgasm.
"That's my girl," Denny whispered. "Time to go now, honey." He jerked the blade free and stabbed her left breast with it, burying the blade. Her eyes and mouth open, she stared at his face; she merely blinked and grunted as it struck her chest and sank deeply in. At the same time he felt his own orgasm rising. Cass felt it too, and she crammed as much of his cock into her mouth as possible. A moment later Denny felt his orgasm beginning, and, as the first shot of hot come exploded into Cass's mouth he stabbed Nicole in her left breast again. The blade flashed in and out; Nicole, choking on her own blood now, was fading fast. In rhythm with the stabs, Denny continued to come in pulsing bursts. He watched Nicole's chest arch and stiffen, and then, finally, he watched her relax in death.
Cass was almost choking herself, on Denny's semen. She grabbed his wrist and pulled the bloody knife against her own chest, smearing Nicole's blood on her breasts. Holding the knife against herself, she slowly tilted her head back and opened her mouth. Denny could see she had a mouthful of semen; some dribbled out the corners of her mouth. Then, with a grin, she let it slide gently down the back of her throat.
"That was so fucking cool," she enthused. "What a great scene, her dying just as you were coming in my mouth. You came a lot." She looked down at the knife, which was at the moment lying against her breastbone, between her breasts. He bent his head down to kiss her, then began moving the blade around her chest, pausing to lightly prick each of her tightly-erect nipples with the point.
"Mmm, I like that," she sighed. Her hands dropped to her groin, and she started rubbing herself vigorously. "While you were doing Nicole I was imagining how it'd feel when the blade went in..."
He laughed. "You want to find out?" He put his arm around her and teased her chest with the blade, letting the point seek out a spot between two of her ribs. "You want me to do you while you're getting yourself off?" he asked playfully.
Cass, rubbing herself furiously, started to groan. "Oh, my God, that's exciting," she moaned. Her upper torso quivered, her breasts bounced, her skin was so flushed it showed in spite of her dark complexion. "Oh, Denny, in a way I want to tell you to go ahead and do me, stick that blade right in me as I'm coming... I... oh, Denny, I'm coming...!"
She shuddered violently. Denny grinned, kissed her hard, and plunged the full length of the blade up under her breast and into her chest.
Her body spasmed violently. She grunted loudly, jerked her head back, and her eyes flew wide open. Slowly, she looked down to see the knife sticking in her side. "Oh, my God, you did it, you really did it..."
"You asked me to," he reminded her. "Sorta, anyway. And I was gonna hafta to do it sooner or later anyhow, Cass. You know too much about me and my business."
She kept staring at the imbedded knife, and she nodded slowly. "I knew that," she admitted. "I just didn't think it would be so soon..."
He didn't answer; he put his arm around her and started pulling the knife back slowly. She groaned again and clutched at his arm as the blade reappeared. "Ah, god, that hurts..."
"Comin' out hurts just as bad as goin' in. Sometimes more." The blade's tip came free, and blood streamed out.
She covered the wound with her hand, but the blood kept streaming through her fingers. "I need to sit down, Denny," she said. Looking a little dazed, she staggered to the bed and sat down on the edge. He went to her, sat down beside her, played with her breast, and leaned over to kiss her. She kissed him back, without reserve. "My sweet sexy killer," she murmured when he broke the kiss. She looked down at his cock. "You're getting hard again... already..."
"Yeah, I am," he agreed. "No surprise there. I been thinking about doin' you a lot."
Reaching down to toy with his rising cock with her fingers, she smiled at the compliment, though the smile was a little wan. "What now?" she asked softly.
"Now," he told her, looking into her eyes, "I'm going to stick you again, and I'm going to leave the knife in you. I want to screw you while you have a blade sticking in you."
She searched his eyes. "I don't guess," she murmured, "that I really have a say-so about it. If I did, though, I'd say--go ahead, do anything you want to do to me..."
"What I wanna do," he said, "is stick this blade in your side." He stroked her side under her ribs on the left. "Then you're gonna suck me some more, and then I'm gonna fuck you, while you've got this blade sticking in you." He gestured with the knife. "Lie down here, now. Let's do it."
Her eyes were wide and her face innocent; she obeyed immediately. Lying on her side, she tucked one hand under her head and arched the other arm over it, exposing her side fully. Denny dropped to one knee beside the bed; Cass didn't move or speak when he propped the knife upright on her side.
Wide-eyed, she stared at his face fixedly. "Do it to me, Denny," she whispered.
He grinned, kissed her briefly, and pushed hard on the knife. Her face contorted when the blade broke though her skin; as it sank deeper she gasped and stared at him.
"Oh, God it hurts, Denny," she told him. Her fingers clutched at the sheets. "Hurts... oh, Denny... I can feel it moving inside me, get it on in, get it in deeper... I want it, I do, I can take it for you..." She brought her fist to her mouth and held it there as the blade passed into her body.
"I knew you'd be good," he told her. He slipped the blade on in, even more slowly, moving his eyes between it and her face. She trembled, gripped the bedclothes, and pulled up her legs as it went on in, but she didn't even try to move.
Finally, the fingerguards mounted her skin. The knife had gone in cleanly; there was only a little blood around it, a small trickle down over her belly. She raised her head to look. "It looks so pretty," she said. "Sticking in me like that..." She turned her head back to look at him and found his cock standing inches from her lips. Without a word she took it in her mouth and began sucking it. He allowed her to continue for a few minutes, then pulled his cock out.
"Roll over on your back and spread your legs," he commanded. Again she obeyed, and he climbed onto the bed and pushed it inside her soaked cunt.
She flinched with the pain as the knife moved inside her, but put her arms around his neck. "Oh, Denny, yes... oh God I needed this, I wanted this..."
He pushed very hard into her. "Your last time..." he muttered.
"I know," she whispered back. She wriggled her hips. "When you were killing Nicole... I was dreaming about being in her place... and I knew you'd put me in her place, sooner or later..." She searched his eyes again. "You know I would've stayed with you until you did..." Her passion rising, she squirmed against him violently.
Denny matched her easily. "I kinda thought you had something like that in mind," he told her. He caressed her cheek, then leaned over to kiss her. "I always said you were my kinda girl."
"I am, Denny," she replied. "I am."
"You got anything you especially want me to do?"
"Just take a long time with me, Denny. Make it last a long time." She sighed deeply. "Take your time killing me... God, it's so exciting, just to say it... say it for me, Denny... tell me..."
He cupped her chin in his hand and stared fixedly at her eyes. "I'm going to kill you, Cassie," he said. "It's gonna be slow and it's gonna be painful; I'm gonna stick that knife in you over and over, and you're gonna bleed until you die."
Her lip trembled. "Oh, Denny... oh... I'm coming again, Denny grab the knife, let me feel..."
"I'll do more than that." He pulled the knife back a little, and, as she stiffened with her orgasm, he slowly pushed it home again, grinding it into her side. She cried out, almost a scream; her climax seemed to go on and on, and as long as it did Denny kept jamming the knife hard into her side.
Finally--and suddenly--she relaxed. Denny let go of the knife, still leaving it standing in her body, and slowed his own movements. Cass' face was relaxed, her eyes closed.
He touched her face. "Still with me, darlin'?"
Her eyelids fluttered and her eyes came open. "Still here," she answered. "I think I can--" As she spoke, there was a sudden noise from downstairs. She stopped speaking; Denny pulled himself quickly out of her and raced to the window.
"God damn!" he cried. "Gendarmes, cops! Something's gone wrong!" Almost frantically, he grabbed for his clothes and started jerking them on. "Sorry, Cass," he said as he yanked his pants up. "It ain't gonna go the way we wanted it to."
Cassie, lying on the bed with his knife still sticking in her side, stared at him. Then, while still looking at him, she reached around, grabbed it, and jerked it out. She winced, and fresh blood started flowing, but nevertheless she got up off the bed.
"What're you doing?" Denny asked as he slipped on his shirt and stomped his feet into his shoes. His gun was already in his hand.
Ignoring her bleeding wounds, she went to her own clothes and, like him, yanked them on. "I'm going with you," she informed him. "I'm your hostage." She handed him the knife.
"You're crazy! You can't--"
"Yes, I can," she insisted. Even as she buttoned one button on her top, red patches were beginning to appear under her breast and at her waist. "I'm not dead yet, Denny! I can do this! Come on, let's go!"
They did not, however, get a chance. Just as they reached the head of the stairs, the police broke into the house. Seeing them, they shouted commands in French and aimed their guns.
But Denny held Cass in front of himself and pointed the gun at her head. "Get back!" he yelled. "Get back or I'll kill her! I mean it!"
"Please," Cass moaned. "Please, do as he says, I'm already hurt... please..."
The policemen did not appear to understand her words, but the meaning was clear enough. They stopped and took a step backward. After a second, one of them stepped forward.
"Parle-vous Francais, monsieur?" he asked.
"Nope," Denny answered.
"Ah, then we will have to the English try," the policeman replied, his accent thick. "Monsieur, we do not let you leave, yes? Put down gun."
"No," he told them. "And if you don't move aside, I'm gonna blow this girl's brains out!" He laughed. "If she doesn't bleed to death first!"
"He... stabbed me," Cass moaned.
"Yep, that I did. Open your shirt and show 'em, darlin.' Do it, or you get a bullet!"
Squeezing her eyes tightly closed and looking terrified, Cass unbuttoned her blood-soaked shirt and pulled it open. The policemen, seeing the stab wounds in her side and chest, gasped.
While they were watching her, Denny used the distraction to get his knife back out. "If you let me go," he said, "I'll let her out down the road and you can take her to the hospital. She'll probably survive if you get her there quick."
"Please," Cass begged. "Do it..."
"Decide quick, boys," Denny said with an ugly grin. By way of emphasis, he poked Cass' breast with the tip of the knife, hard enough to make her wince in pain.
"Monsieur, we will not let you go," the policeman repeated. "You put down knife and--"
By way of answer, Denny pushed the knife hard against her breast, hard enough to press her body back against his. The knife bit into her flesh; she squealed loudly as fresh blood started to flow. "You wanna watch her die? Keep stalling!"
'No, monsieur, no!" the policeman cried. "Stop, stop!"
"You ready to let me walk out of here, then?" The policeman hesitated, and Denny shoved the blade a little farther into Cass' breast, causing her to gasp loudly.
The policeman held his hands out defensively. "No, monsieur, stop. You may go, monsieur. Go. Leave her as you promised, on the road."
"Good plan," Denny said. He jerked the knife out of Cass' breast, and blood spilled out freely even though he hadn't really pierced her very deeply. As the policemen stood aside, he guided her down the stairs and out the door.
"We made it," she sighed as she got into the car. Keeping a careful eye on the policemen, who were standing by the door watching him, he kept the gun trained on her as he climbed over her to slide into the drivers' seat.
"We ain't out of the woods yet," he told her. "They're gonna be after us quick. And they're gonna set a roadblock somewhere, too. Whichever way we go."
She held her side where she'd been stabbed earlier. Her breathing was very heavy. "What're we going to do, then?"
"I'm not sure. This is a tight spot." Putting the car in gear, he roared away; once on the road he pressed the pedal down hard. Behind him, the policeman piled into their own cars and gave chase, hanging back a short distance.
Cass turned and looked. "There are three cars," she said. "Even if you put me out, only one will stop for me, you'll have the other two after you, and they'll probably start shooting then."
"No question about it. That ain't gonna work."
"Damn it," Cass cursed. She coughed up blood. "I'm dying, Denny, I'm fucking bleeding to death. This isn't the way I wanted it to be!"
He shrugged. "Me neither. Nothing we can do about it, though." He stared straight ahead through the windshield and pushed the sports car up above 100. The police cars began to drop a little further behind. He glanced at the rear-view mirror. "If we can get enough of a lead," he mused, "and we don't hit a roadblock too soon... we might be able to find a turn-off and lose them..." He pushed the car harder, slewing around the curves in the road, and, when they reached another straightaway, the police cars were nowhere to be seen.
"I think you've lost them for the moment," Cass said, looking back again. Her voice sounded weak, and she laid her head on the seat back.
"Okay... now if we can find a turnoff..." He scanned the road ahead. There was nothing, but he kept pushing the sports car hard. Another curve came up, and, beyond it, there was a narrow country road that swung off to the left. His face set, Denny approached it without slowing, then abruptly hit the brake and slid the car around the corner. Then they were on a straight road again, streaking along at well above 100 mph. Cass, looking out the back window, reported that there was no sign of any pursuit.
After driving about another fifteen minutes at high speed, Denny suddenly took his foot off the accelerator and allowed the car's speed to drop. Cass turned back to see what he was doing, and watched as he veered onto what looked like a mere trail leading in among some heavy trees. Here, after bumping and jouncing in until the car had bogged down and would go no further, he stopped.
Moving slowly - her shirt was hanging open and her chest and belly were covered with blood - Cass opened her door and looked out. "You're stuck," she said, slurring her words.
"Yeah," Denny agreed. He got out of the car and came around to her side. "I'll never get away in this car," he told her as he helped her out. "I'll go overland on foot from here and find a car to steal."
She smiled and leaned against him. "Mmm. Be sure you get away, Denny. I can't go with you, you know. I feel so tired and cold..."
He put his arm around her and turned to kiss her cheek. "I do know," he said. "I can't believe you've managed to do as much as you've done here." He watched her for a moment. Her breathing was very ragged. "However you want it now, Cass. You want me to leave you here, or do you want me to finish you off?"
She managed a little laugh. "I want you to fuck me some more," she said. "and have you stick me while we're fucking again, over and over until I'm dead. But you can't take the time to do that, and I know it." She gazed at his face. "Do you have more than one gun?"
He cocked his head. "Yeah... I have two... why?"
"Give me one of them," she told him. "Give me one and just leave me here. If the police find me and I'm still alive, I'll shoot at them. They'll probably kill me, but it doesn't matter, I'm going to die anyhow. I might be able to buy you a little more time."
He nodded. Reaching into the car's glove compartment, he produced a 9mm automatic and handed it to her. "You sure?" he asked. "I can finish it for you, quick and easy."
She looked at the gun. "So can I, now," she murmured. "But that's not what I want to do. You go. Kiss me one last time and go. Get away."
He did as she asked, kissing her for a long moment, cradling her cheeks in his hands. Then, after giving her several clips for the gun, he turned away and started off through the woods. "I'll never forget you, Cass," he called back. "You're the best."
"Better not," she grumbled. She watched him until he'd disappeared among the trees. Then, turning back, she shucked off her shirt and threw it aside. Moving around to the back of the car, she looked down at her shorts, which were heavily blood-stained and sticking to her thighs. Laying the gun down for a moment, she worked them down over her hips, groaning from the exertion. Then, finally, when she was again naked, she sat down on the rear deck of the sports car. Time slipped by, she felt herself getting weaker, and she began to regret her decision. Maybe the policemen weren't going to find her; she'd just pass out and die here of blood loss. Having Denny finish it - even without sex - was preferable to that.
But she'd underestimated the French policemen. Just when she was beginning to fear she was about to lose consciousness, they appeared around a little bend in the trail, moving fast. Without bothering to try to take cover, she raised the handgun and fired at them. Immediately, they scrambled for cover. For a few seconds everything was quiet; then the Frenchmen, who by then had seen who had shot at them, began calling out to her, telling her that there wasn't anything to fear, and asking her to put down the gun. In answer, she fired at them again, hitting a tree one of them was hiding behind.
More time passed; the policemen kept trying to talk her out of the gun, and she kept firing an occasional shot in their general direction, keeping them pinned down. Finally, one of them tried darting off through the woods to her left, trying to circle around behind her. Turning, she shot at him three times, and at the sound of the third shot he cried out and fell.
That was all it took to change the attitude of the other policemen. They began answering her fire. Two bullets whizzed through the foilage alongside the car, another punched a large hole in the rear deck.
The fourth slammed full into her belly.
The impact knocked her backwards, and she lost her balance and rolled off the car, landing hard on the ground on her back. Raising her head, she saw blood bubbling up from a neat hole to the left of her navel. Painfully, calling on all the strength she had remaining, she dragged herself back to a sitting position and leaned against the car. One of the policemen was exposed; they knew she'd been hit and he was rushing toward her. She raised the gun, fired at him, missed, and was answered by a volley of fire from several guns at once. One bullet tore into her thigh, and another struck her right breast. Blood spouting from her breast, she managed to get the gun up again for another shot, but before she could get it off three more slugs tore into her naked torso, two more through her right breast and another into her stomach. Groaning, fighting to breath, blood surging up in her throat, she fell over onto her side. Again, seeing her go down, the policemen rushed forward. Even as they came, though, she fought to raise the gun toward them again.
Their answer was to fire several shots into the center of her chest. She felt the slugs crashing through her sternum, and the gun went flying from her nerveless hand. Darkness swirled in around her quickly.
Her last thoughts were of Denny, of her hopes that he'd made his escape. Although she couldn't help but be distracted just a little by the totally confused expressions on the faces of the French policemen who'd just killed her...