Karla

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He plays game with dangerous woman.
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I looked up at the game. "We still might just have a chance," I said to my friend Thomas.

Thomas looked up from his magazine. "Down 25-14... but they're inside the 20. Score here and 7 minutes is plenty of time left."

Hamilton had fallen behind Edmonton 18-0 in the first quarter, and I had written it off as yet another loss in a dismal season for the Tiger-Cats. Now there was a faint flicker of hope. "Come on!" I yelled at the TV. "Get that touchdown and we're right back in this thing!"

The next play shattered my daydream. "Quick toss to the flat... INTERCEPTED! He 's at the 30! The 40! The 50! Past midfield... he could go! 20... 15... 10... 5... TOUCHDOWN! Edmonton has just put the nail in the coffin of this one!" said the announcer, somewhat breathless at the end. "31-14 now, with just 6:52 to play!"

"JEEZ!" I yelled angrily. "They blew it again!" I rose to my feet and started to stomp off in the direction of the spare bedroom.

"Going to worship at the shrine of Karla again?" Thomas asked me. "I know you like a book, Jimmy."

"You got it," I replied. "The pain of a soon-to-be-six-game losing streak seems to fade away in here."

"You're a funny fellow," Thomas replied. "Your obsession with Karla Homolka is dangerous. You're never going to meet her, and even if you did, she's a known killer!"

"Horsefeathers!" I snapped. "If she hadn't met that psycho Paul Bernardo none of that would have happened. And I still don't think she got a fair trial."

"Let's not go through that again," Thomas said. "Well, I'll let you do your thing. See you next week for the season finale."

"OK, buddy," I called. back "Have a good week."

God is without doubt a woman, and She has a very odd sense of humor. Just 2 days after Thomas's assertion that I would never meet the object of my obsession, I was in a bar, trying again to forget Hamilton's horrific season -- 3-14 with a game to go not too long after winning the Grey Cup. I was slowly nursing a beer [one does not accumulate a wealth of 6 million Canadian dollars by being a drunk] when I saw a woman sitting at a table in the farthest possible corner of the bar, completely alone, with her back turned to me. She looked totally miserable.

I walked over to her table, sat down, looked up and felt a titanic sense of shock pulse through me. The woman's blonde hair now had some gray. Her face had a few more worry lines and was more drawn than in the photographs. Her body was a little bit thicker. There was absolutely no question, however, that I was facing Karla Homolka.

Doing my best not to let on that I knew who she was, I stuck out my hand. "Hello," I said quietly. "I'm Jimmy Thompson. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She stuck out her hand, seemingly taken aback by my quiet approach and lack of a cheesy pick-up line. "I'm Karla," she said.

"I'm not going to ask if I can buy you a drink," I said, "nor will I say something stupid that obviously is intended to get you into my bed for a night. I also won't spend the next hour bragging about myself. I'll just be honest and say that I saw you drinking alone, thought from my angle of vision that you seemed attractive, and came over to discover that you are in fact very pretty. Women don't drink alone like that unless there's something on their minds, so if you want to talk about it I'll just sit and listen."

"Are you as honest as you seem?" Karla replied. "I've never met a man who was at all decent, that's what's on my mind. I'll be honest with you, too: I detest men. Men are vicious, lying assholes and traitorous to boot, not to mention most of them are criminally abusive."

"I understand how you feel, Miss Homolka," I responded, "but not all men are Paul Bernardo. I've long dreamed of proving this to you. And I hate to say it, but you'll have to, and I know this will be difficult, trust me for the next 10 minutes."

"You know who I am," she said with an open-mouthed stare, "and you didn't get up and walk away? You're not at all scared of me?"

"I've thought for years you got a raw deal, Miss Homolka," was my response. "I think you are capable of loving and trusting a man again, but it will take a very special effort to break down the barriers... and I think I know how to do it. Did you drive here?"

"No," she replied, "I walked."

"Come with me," I said, "and I'll make sure you will overcome your anger and turmoil."

Reluctantly, Karla rose. "You do the slightest thing that makes me suspicious," she said, "and the deal's off. I don't see how you can prove your point, but because you seem determined to, I'll let you have one chance."

"Agreed," I responded. "My car is right outside."

10 minutes later, we were pulling up to my house. "I'll show you around the house later," I explained, "but there's one thing you need to know now."

I took her into the room where I had a virtual shrine to her. Pictures of her were on every wall, "Invisible Darkness" was displayed prominently, and the large desk was covered with printouts about the Bernardo case. She looked very impressed.

"I've created a very special room, in anticipation that this day might someday happen," I said. We descended several flights of stairs into a sub-basement that no one else knew about. I had constructed and furnished it myself.

The centerpiece was 6 4-inch diameter posts, padded on the top and about 3 feet tall, arranged in roughly the shape of a human, giving support to the low back, neck, forearms and lower legs. "I'd like to play a game," I said. "The rules are simple. I wall disrobe and lie on the posts." I pushed a button on the wall and chains emerged from the ceiling, with cuffs for the 4 limbs. "You will put the restraints on me at the wrists and ankles. You may use any of the numerous devices in the room to do whatever you want to my body. I will be completely under your control. We will do this and you will let me know when your anger is gone. It will be your therapy."

"Deal," she said. I slipped out of my clothes and Karla helped hoist me into position before applying the cuffs.

She had changed into a sexy dominatrix outfit of black leather while I was undressing. "You will refer to me as Mistress Karla, you pathetic worm!" she screamed at me. "You will be mine to command at will. Now kiss me!"

She removed the top of her outfit and thrust her breasts at me. "Kiss me very well or you will be punished!" she snarled. I obediently licked at her nipples. "Suck harder!" she said. I sucked her nipple and swirled my tongue as firmly as I could.

Karla strode over and removed a glass whip from its hangings. I had had the material made with small pieces of glass sewn in so they wouldn't come out. This meant each blow inflicted many small cuts. "Not good enough, slave!" she growled. The whip cracked several times across my chest, leaving a series of red marks oozing with blood.

"Excellent, Mistress Karla," I said. "That's a great way to relieve pent-up anger."

"You didn't so much as flinch," she said. "I don't know how you didn't, but I want to see you begging me to stop!"

A carborundum-blade knife was next. Specially ordered, its blade could slice a single layer of cells off of a culture. It was similar to, but less expensive than, the diamond knives used in biology labs.

Karla placed the knife against my skin. "I could skin you alive, you scum!" she shouted. "Would you react to that?"

"You can do whatever you like, Mistress Karla," I replied. "I just want you to get all your emotions out."

She used the knife to remove a small patch of skin from my leg. I lay there impassively. Moving the knife up to my crotch, she hissed, "I could castrate you."

"I'm hoping you won't have to, Mistress Karla," I responded. "I think there's a sweet, kind, loving woman in you somewhere."

"You're not going to beg me to spare your worthless life, you sleazeball?" she growled, placing the tip of the knife at my throat.

"No, Mistress Karla," I said. "I have confidence you will let me live. If my confidence is misplaced, so be it."

I could feel the anger in her lessening. "You really do think I'm a goddess, don't you," she said in wonderment.

"Yes I do, Mistress Karla," I responded.

She put the knife away, but wasn't through with me yet. "Now, slave, you will give me the kiss of submission!" she snarled.

She positioned her pussy over my face. "Stick out your tongue!" she growled. I complied. She lowered her pussy onto it., then kept lowering her body, pressing my head down against the post.

"Lick me out, you traitorous worm!" she commanded. I was being crushed by her pelvis, but I managed to slide my tongue around, finding her clit. I could barely breathe. She started sliding her slit back and forth along my face, mashing herself against me.

"Stick your tongue inside," she hissed. I could tell she was getting hot. I licked frantically at her, trying to get all of her juices. "Ooooooh," she moaned. "Faster, slave!"

I slurped at her as quickly as I could, feeling her body tense up. She suddenly climaxed hard and fast, covering me with her fluids. She clamped her legs around my head, cutting off my oxygen. I thought I would pass out.

Coming down, she loosened her squeeze and stepped away. "That was the best I've had in a long time," she said.

"I'm happy I could make it happen," I replied.

She walked over to me and reached down, taking my balls in her hand. She started to squeeze, slowly intensifying the pressure. My face began to turn red as the pain shot through me. I didn't react, however, except for a clenching of teeth.

"You're not begging for mercy?" Karla asked incredulously.

"No, Mistress Karla," I responded.

I could see the last of the anger drain out of her. She had given me her best shot at breaking me and it hadn't worked.

"Enough," she said. "I can't believe you handled that. How could you not ask me to stop?"

"I knew I could take it," I said. "I had to get all the anger out of you. It worked to perfection. I'd like to show you the bedroom now."

She laughed and released me, stripping off the last of her outfit. I bandaged the cuts from the whip and where she had skinned me with the knife, and we went upstairs.

It wasn't long before I had her in a "69" position. Unrestrained this time, I began by kissing her inner thighs before moving to her dripping-wet pussy. I opened her legs and licked up and down her slit. I then flicked my tongue softly over her swollen clit before circling it gently.

While I was ministering to her, she had gently stroked me to my full hardness. Her tongue just touched the sensitive tip of my rod, then circled it. Leaning forward, she ran the tip of her tongue up and down the length of my shaft. Taking my still-aching balls in her hand – gently and lovingly, this time – she ran her fingernails over them, then her tongue, before softly starting to suck on them while jerking me.

"Mmmmmmm," I whispered, "that feels good."

She responded by sliding my dick into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, sucking me deep into her mouth and licking around me with her tongue before pulling back so that just the tip was against her lips. I continued to work her with my tongue and soon felt her body tensing again. With freedom of movement, I was able to lick all her honey off her soft skin as she climaxed explosively.

She shifted her position to lay next to me. "How'd you do that?" she asked.

"I once dated a nurse... long ago, but she taught me where all the sensitive spots are for a woman," I responded.

Karla stroked me slowly for a minute, then raised up her body. Lowering herself onto me, she started sliding up and down, fast and hard. "I'll make you mine now," she said. "I want you to fill me up."

I thrust into her, matching her rhythm. Her internal muscles squeezed me tightly, trying to milk all my juices. She was bouncing up and down screaming like a wild woman. I knew we couldn't hold out much longer.

She increased her speed, slamming up and down on my body. I felt her approach her peak again as I sensed my own body getting close. With a scream of pure pleasure, she flooded me with her sweetness as I shot gobs of hot cum deep into her womb. She collapsed on top of me and lay still, trying to recover.

When she stirred, a few minutes later, she kissed me on the lips. A lover's kiss, with plenty of tongue. Breaking away, she said simply, "Wow."

"I would like to be with you forever," I told her. "You saw the shrine room. I'm not anything like He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

Karla laughed. "You're not Voldemort or Paul what's-his-name," she said. "I think I'll like having a worshiper as my roommate."

We're still together... and I was right. Karla is capable of love. Even Thomas had to admit it.

  • COMMENTS
4 Comments
Dar_JisboDar_Jisboover 17 years agoAuthor
2nd response...

Author's 2nd response...

in order to leave a comment, I have to put something in the rating box. that field is required. i don't WANT to "vote on my own work", but i have no choice.

Dar

AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
Shame on you, both

First off, Anonymous from Canada,

Shame on you for judging the story not on its merits but on your own philosophical condemnment of a person, which is not even the central theme of the story. And giving it a zero is just not fair. I doubt that you even read it.

Secondly, Dar

It's not appropriate to vote on your own work, even if somebody maligned it.

My opinion on the story: It's well-written, but not enough substance and not erotically-charged relative to there other works here.

Dar_JisboDar_Jisboover 17 years agoAuthor
Response...

Author's response:

Thank you for your opinion. I don't want to argue about whether Karla Homolka is a killer or got swept into a dark world by that psychopath Bernardo. (I think it's the latter.)

My question is: is writing about Karla Homolka in any worse "taste" than my other works? Given that I've covered forced incest, sexual blackmail, semi-nonconsensual bondage, and had a leading character be a former mob boss [therefore by implication a murderer], I don't think Karla tops some of that stuff. I would love responses!

Dar

AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
in bad taste...

Writting a fantasy story about a person who actively participated in the rape/murder of her own sister is in very bad taste...:(

Let the world remember Karla Homolka for what she really is,a killer.

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