The Difference Between Homeless and Helpless

The killer started to slap her ass with more force yet she didn't try to avoid the blows or complain about them, rather she began to squirm on the hood and seemed to be trying to grind her ass back against his cock which had never really gotten soft but was getting harder with every move the bitch made against him. This was not going the way he had planned, the bitch was making it too good for him. He began to feel that he owed her something for what she was doing for him. In spite of himself, he began to like the old woman for her spunk and spirit. He decided to see just how game she really was.

"Put it in your asshole." He said it like it was an order not a request.

The words hung in the air waiting for her mind to hear them for what they were. A command to hurt herself for this man she didn't even know. She had never liked anal sex, she had only tried it a couple of times in her life. She was hot as hell and really wanted sex right now, she couldn't remember when she had felt this horny. But she didn't think she could take him up her ass. She decided to tell him no.

"I don't do that shit, if you don't like my pussy enough to let that satisfy you than I guess you will just have to beat your own meat." She had spoken like she always talked but it sounded like backtalk to the killer and he was not used to that from women.

The cold eyes of the man seemed to flare up when he heard her words. He reached out his hand and wrapped his fist in her whitish hair; with a hard jerk he pulled her face up and away from the car's hood, forcing the woman to bend backwards, pulling her onto his cock.

"You fucking bitch, when I tell you to do something, you do it." He released her hair and brutally started to rapidly slap her ass with both hands, first one then the other would fall on her ass making it glow a hot cherry red. On the fifth slap she started to wail and asking him to stop; by the time his hand got sore, she was blabbering so that he couldn't understand a word. In the struggle his dick slipped from her pussy; that really pissed him off and he started to actually beat her with his hands.

Rita could not stand the pain, as blow after blow fell onto her defenseless ass cheeks. When he finally stopped she lay still and sobbed while he stalked around the car like a tiger in a cage. He came back around to stand behind her, his hard dick brushing against the back of her thighs as he spoke to her.

" Ok, here's the deal, I want a sex slave, I am willing and able to pay you to do this for me, but I want complete control. How much is that going to cost me?" The man stepped back and gave the woman some room as she stood up and turned to face him.

"Just what kind of shit do you want to do to this 'sex slave', I mean how do I know what to charge if I don't know what you want to do to me?" As she was talking she was thinking of what numbers he might be willing to go for. She had been getting fucked over her whole life, at least this time she would be getting paid for it, she figured she would let this asshole slap her around a bit if he was willing to spend enough to make her feel better when it was all over with.

The killer loved the way this conversation was going, the old bag was really going to sell herself to him. She had grit and spunk enough for two guys; he tried not to gloat as he told her what he might want her to do.

"I would want to tie your hands behind your back, I would want to be able to fuck your mouth, ass or pussy any way that I might want to do it. I would want you to be a willing partner in these fuckings. I might hurt you by spanking but I will not do anything that would really hurt you or leave lasting signs. If I paid you five hundred dollars would you be my slave for the rest of the day?"

He watched the animal cunning in her eyes as she tried to figure out how much her life was worth. She looked at his face like she was looking for something she could trust, something to make this easier for her. He gave her nothing, he merely waited for her to do it on her own.

"You already gave me two hundred and twenty dollars," she could hardly believe that she had that much already, "and you are offering me five hundred more if I will let you call the shots. Is that right so far?"

The killer nodded his head yes.

"I'll do it if you will add another two hundred and eighty dollars to it, that would make the total come to one thousand dollars." Shit, she could rent an apartment if she wanted to with that kind of money. She could be a 'somebody' again for a while. She continued, "I would want the money in cash and in my pocket before we go any further."

The killer readily agreed to her terms, really what difference did it make whose pocket the money was in when she died; she wouldn't even have a pocket to keep it in so it would be in his car anyway.

"OK," was all he said as he reached for his wallet. He started to lay the bills on the hood of the car, counting the bills as he put them down.

"All righty then, just let me put this in my shorts and I'll be ready." She trotted around to the passenger side of the car and stashed her loot into her folded shorts on the back seat. Glancing back over her shoulder she saw that the man was going to the trunk, when the lid popped up it blocked his view of where she was. Her hand lifted her breast while her other hand placed something underneath it, she let her breast fall trapping the object under her breast against her chest.

The killer went to the trunk and popped the lid, he reached in and came out with an overnight night bag, slamming the trunk closed, he returned to the front of the car where Rita stood naked and waiting for him. Placing the bag on the hood of the car he reached inside and came out with a collar, not a leather collar but a silver chain choke collar that he placed over her head. Her skin burst out in chill bumps when the cold metal touched her flesh. The killer ignored her and went back into the bag again, this time he came out with a length of soft rope. He looked at Rita and spoke two words.

"Turn around."

Rita was well aware that things were about to get completely out of her control and it suddenly scared her. Even as she turned around as he had asked her to do, she was thinking of how she could talk him out of this.

"You know that the way I look at it, my body belongs to you for the next few hours, I don't see why you would want to tie my hands when they could be doing something to me or for you. They are paid for too you know." She waited for a reply but all she got was him pulling her left hand behind her back and starting to wrap rope around her wrist.

The killer was listening though and he thought that most of the time he had tied up his victims and it did take away a lot of options. His mind began to run though possibilities of what he might make her do with her hands free as opposed to what risk he might be running leaving her arms and hands free to move as she wanted. He looked at the slight old women and thought, 'What a wimp I am becoming to worry about an old woman kicking my ass if I don't tie her up'. He decided to play it cautious and tie one hand behind her back just to slow her down if she tried to get away. The road was not that far away and there were log trucks running up and down it pretty regularly.

At first Rita was relived when the stranger didn't grab her other arm but the relief was short lived as the man tied the rope to the end of the choke chain around her neck. The weight of her arm pulled the chain tight around her neck, it was very awkward to hold her arm high enough behind her back to keep from choking; it forced her to jut her breasts forward arching her back in a painful way.

The killer thought that she looked just right with the slight pain of discomfort in her eyes serving as a background for the fear that was beginning to grow there. Gone was the smug look that his mother had always had. He felt his cock jump at the thought of doing this to his mother. He wished that he had but now it was too late, she had died two years ago. This old bag would have to do. He walked to the car and sat down on the seat with his legs still on the ground.

"OK, bitch, get your ass over here and get between my legs and suck my dick. Don't stop sucking and don't stop fingering that nasty little cunt of yours." He pushed his pants to below his knees and spread his legs as she approached.

With one hand tied behind her back and the other rubbing between her legs, Rita had a hard time getting to her knees before her master, but she did. She bobbed her head over his cock until she got it in her mouth and started to suck.

"Deeper bitch, I want the whole thing in your head before I shoot my nut." As he spoke he took hold of the sides of her head and helped her out by shoving her face down onto his hard cock. He could feel her gagging as she tried to hold him inside, he let her grab a moment's air and then he was deep in her throat again. Soon she was able to take the whole length down her gullet and he leaned back and watched this motherly like woman suck his cock like the cheapest whore.

The killer had already fucked her pussy and now he was fucking her mouth, one more hole to go before she was used up. He smiled as he thought that he would punch her asshole and then punch her ticket. She was working on her clit and he thought that she had already had one orgasm but he wasn't sure. She knew how to suck a cock though that was for sure; he wasn't the first one she had sucked, not by a long shot.

Rita knew he was about to cum so she applied more suction and tried to twist her head as she drove it up and down his shaft. Her nose was firmly pressed into his pubic hairs when she felt him shoot his cum down her swallowing throat. She never slowed down even when her own cum followed his. She had a mean streak in her and she began to swirl her tongue around his super sensitive cock head. She had sucked enough men in her life to know that they were so sensitive after they came that it was almost painful for them to keep going. She kept going, with both her hand on her pussy, and her mouth on his cock.

He couldn't take any more; he used his hands on her head to pull her still sucking mouth from his cock. "My God," he exclaimed, "you gonna be getting the tears from my eyes if you don't stop." He pushed her back with one of his feet and stood up, she remained laying on her hip and side where he had shoved her down. She seemed to be having trouble with her arm, he reached down to help her to her feet and something hit him in the face.

Rita knew that she only had a chance like this come along once every ten years if she was lucky. She pulled the protective cardboard sleeve from the blade with her teeth and slashed with the single edge blade across his face when he bent over her. She got him twice more before the big guy knew what was happening to him. He had both hands in front of his face now trying to protect where she had been cutting him. Unfortunately this left his throat open and she slashed the blade across and then hit him again with the back slash opening his throat to the point that she could see down his windpipe. Blood was gushing out all over her, as the tall man seemed to stagger and then fall to his knees beside her. The pain in her arm was terrible as she rolled over on it to get some distance between her and the guy trying to stop his blood from soaking into the Florida sand.

Rita struggled to her feet and started to work the blade on the rope that was holding her arm to the chain around her neck. She was careful to stay out of the reach of the guy who was now laying down staring up at her with dimming eyes. Blood was everywhere; his head lay in a puddle big as a child's plastic wading pool. She was soaked as though she had been under a hose squirting blood instead of water. She tried to get it off her face with her hands and waited for the man to die.

It took ten minutes before she was sure enough to touch the dead man. Rita went through his pockets and found twenty-six hundred dollars besides the thousand she had in her shorts already. She looked through his trunk and found a lot of kinky sex toys, butt plugs and big dildos, alone with sets of leather restraints. She was hoping for something that she could sell but she didn't know anybody into that sort of shit. She thought that she had hit the jackpot when she found a box filled with papers but it was only clippings about a series of murders that happened all over the southeast. She threw them over by the body. Watching for snakes, she waded out into a ditch filled with muddy water to try to get the blood off her.

With nobody to tell her not to do it any more, she lit up a cigarette. That motherfucker should never have hit her, she didn't let anybody abuse her like that. She blew out a long stream of smoke; she would have let the guy fuck her and she would have honored their deal but she was not going to let anybody try to intimidate her like he tried to do. She considered what to do with the guy's car, she could trade it for crack but it might bring the heat back to her if the cops ever got onto it.

Rita parked the car back in the corner of the Wal-Mart parking lot next to the building, there were no cameras there, and walked away. She didn't know that she had just murdered a dangerous man, she didn't know that there was a one hundred thousand dollar reward for anyone who could tell the police where he was. She just knew that the guy had wanted to fuck her over and she hit him first. That was the first law of the jungle, get in the first blow and make it count. Even though she had nearly three grand in her pocket she flagged down a woman she had bummed rides from in the past.

"Could you give me a ride down to the Palm Grove Motel, I sure would appreciate it?" she asked.

The woman waved her to get into the car. As they drove away Rita thought that while she had got fucked, at least this time she didn't get fucked over. She remembered the way he had called her a beggar. Guess he knew better now, just because she was homeless didn't mean she was helpless. As they drove up at the motel and she thanked the woman and got out of the car, she saw a cat scamper out from behind a dumpster. A lot of people would think that the cat was lost or abandoned, but Rita knew better. The cat was like her, untamed, semi-wild, living by its wits out on the edge. That's where she lived because she was untamed; like that cat, she lived rough but she lived free. She wouldn't trade lives with anybody she knew; like that cat, she was happy.