A Night's Tale Ch. 02byDomwoolf©
A Nights Tale had the most comments and e-mails of any story I have written even though it had the least readers. So for those that enjoyed it I offer part 2.
She walks through the hot summer night, her body glistening where flesh is exposed. She stalks her prey, keeping to the shadows in areas where they are most likely to be until she spots a target. The hunt is ongoing, never ending, one climax only leading to the next chase, the next hunt, the next prey because that is how you survive.
She watches for the hunters, the ones that would bring her down, capture her, stop her hunt. It becomes a game of shadows and light. Hide in the shadows to avoid becoming prey, duck into the light to hunt and attract your own prey. Endless night.
Heather looked good and she dressed to enhance what she had. The trick was to look good enough for the Vegas night club crowd with out going overboard and descending into hooker category. She loved the feel of the soft material in her new lite green blouse. The deep v front showed off enough to entice without exposing her to the world even when she danced. Just as the slit up the side of the skirt flashed as she moved or sat but didn't reveal too much.
She loved watching the crowd as she sipped at her drink. The young ones so full of energy and drama. The older ones trying to remain with the in crowd, refusing to believe their time had come and gone. The pros, not a part of the in crowd but decorations to be hung on ones arm to look good, to look successful, to say look what I can afford. Then there were the hangers, the gofers, the not famous and not successful ones that hung around to fetch and carry and be the whipping posts of those that had made it.
Las Vegas was a good move after the fiasco of Phoenix. Here in a twenty four hour a day town, nobody noticed if you were only seen at night. Many people worked the night shifts. Here one could shop, bank, play, and party all night, every night and it was nothing unusual.
The hunting was good between the tourists and the immigrants and the homeless there was a never ending supply of people that nobody noticed or cared enough about to complain if they went missing.
There was also a steady supply of assholes, some made so by drink, some just born that way. Heather preyed almost exclusively on a steady diet of these. It fit her notions of justice. The strong preyed on the weak and she preyed on the strong as a sort of payback.
Tonight her quarry was a real asshole, one that liked to pickup women in bars and clubs and get them drunk before taking them to some dark alley and beating them half to death while raping them.
She knew if he struck out in the clubs well then just cruse the hooker areas, pick up some sex worker trying to stay alive and feed her kid by offering her body for sex, take her off to a dark place and become her worst nightmare.
Heather had narrowed it down to three guys, all of whom frequented the clubs, all of whom were known to pickup women and be a little rough and all of whom had been seen with the victims before they got raped and beaten.
The cops had let it become known that none of the women victims remembered their attacker because he must have slipped one of the date rape drugs in their drinks before taking them out to become his punching bag. Several women had reported becoming sick and passing out after a night of clubbing, but none had been able to swear that one of the three had mickeyed their drink.
So Heather picked one and watched and followed and listened. She eliminated one last week, when he got his date drunk, took her to a hotel and partied till dawn. He had paid for her cab ride home and the woman while hung over was none the worse for her experience. The fact that the guy ignored the women the next time they met made him a serious fucking asshole but not the s.o.b. she was hunting.
Tonight's poor example of the Darwin theory in action was having no luck with the ladies. Some started out talking to him and a few even danced with him but something was scaring them off. They would make excuses or find other people they knew and crowd the guy out before escaping to another part of the club.
Heather could see he was getting pissed off and ready to leave. She finished her drink and followed as he left the club. If this were her guy he would high tail it to the badder parts of town and pickup one of the street girls to work off his aggressions on. Heather intended to work off some of her own pissed off feelings and satisfy her own peculiar hungers at the same time.
Bad ass lumbered to the back parking lot where he got into a black hummer and burned rubber leaving the parking lot. Heather had reached her 280z, preparing to follow when some tourist in an RV cut in front of her. It took the idiot forever to make a left across the busy traffic blocking Heather the whole time, by then the hummer and Mr. Bad Ass were long gone.
Heather fumed, she knew in the mood asshole was in when he left the club that some poor hooker was in for a bad time tonight. She headed for the area where most of the streetwalkers were known to hang out, hoping to spot the big gas hog that asshole was driving.
It took a half hour but she finally spotted him cruising past a group of prostitutes, she watched as he turned into an alley that led to a parking area big enough to turn the big hummer around. She parked and walked up to the three hookers.
"Take a break girls, go get some dinner."
"Says who bitch?"
"Take thirty minutes or thirty days in county and if you blow my cover I'll lose your ass in the drunk tank for 72 hours first."
The girls grumbled but headed down the street for a diner. "Hey blonde!"
The blond hooker turned around, "Trade me your blouse."
"Is you nuts?"
"Trust me your getting the better deal." She pulled off the five hunderd dollar Donna Kerin blouse. The hooker shrugged and pulled off the flashy dime store shirt. Donna tossed her the blouse and caught the cheap perfumed shirt as the hooker walked back to her group laughing and showing the label.
"I am so making this asshole pay for that." Heather swore.
The hummer turned onto the street as the hookers entered the diner; Heather flashed a little leg and left the top unbuttoned half way down. The hummer pulled in beside her.
"Hey baby looking for a date?"
"Yeah get in and let's party."
Heather crossed the street. "You a cop?"
"No way baby, just horny."
She climbed into the big hummer, which pulled out even as she was closing the door. It was a nice hummer, leather interior, all the toys, g.p.s., power everything. The big guys hand was working its way into her skirt even as he pulled away from the curb.
"You like hummers?" Heather made her voice purr as she slipped the double entendre into the question.
"You bet baby, there's three hundred in the glove box. So why don't you slide over here and lets see how you hum."
Heather lay across the seat and found he had already gotten his cock out for her. She licked the tip of his cock and slowly engulfed it, drawing it deep into her mouth. She began bobbing her head as she sucked drawing him in. Once she got his saliva slicked member into her throat she began humming. His big hand wrapped itself in her hair and set the rhythm as he began moving her head up and down his cock.
He was forceful but not harsh as he controlled her movements and he pulled to the curb just as he came in her mouth. She swallowed and sucked him clean as he disengaged his hand from her hair.
"That was great. How much for the whole night? I got a suite at the casino down the street."
Heather looked up and for the first time saw him in the lights of the street lamp. Not her prey, damn it.
"Sorry baby, I'm booked. The hummers on the house. Welcome to Vegas." She slid over and quickly jumped from the vehicle. She strode back down the street ignoring the man's voice as he shouted to her.
As soon as she was out of sight she began running at her full speed back to her car. Thirty seconds later she was driving down the street looking for the black hummer.
She spotted her prey and left the safety of the shadows, glancing around for the hunters. She made her approach, caught the eyes of her prey, and went in for the kill.
Heather saw the black hummer pull away from the curb and take off down the street. She pulled in behind the hummer following it through the streets and out towards the hills surrounding Las Vegas. Once outside the city limits she allowed the hummer to get a long lead and shut off her lights. Her eyes widened until the night looked bright as day.
The hummer turned off the road and headed up into the hills, Heather slammed her car to a halt. There was no way her little sports car could follow the rough dirt road that the big hummer was powering up. Heather started running after the vanishing off road vehicle.
Her jaw hurt where the big man had slammed his fist into it. The door on her side wouldn't open and she knew she had seriously fucked up. When he turned off the road and began heading into the hills she began to whimper. He reached over and backslapped her.
"Shut up bitch!" He ripped her blouse open with one hand and hooked his hand into her bra using the material to pull her over to him. He pulled her tit out, twisting her nipple. He released her tit and grabbed her hair.
"Strip whore, I want you naked in one minute or I start hurting you."
She fumbled with her clothes, silently crying as she pushed the skin tight pants and thong panties down her legs. She pulled the bra and torn shirt over her head and sat back naked as the day her crack addicted mother gave birth to her.
He shoved his hand between her legs and began squeezing and tearing at her pussy. His fingers forced their way inside her and she cried out as her hurt her. His laughter was his only response. He slapped her as he let go and drove through a tricky turn in the canyon before stopping well away from the road and any prying eyes. That's when she started screaming.
Heather was pissed she had let the hummer get too far ahead in an effort to be unobserved. Now he had a several mile lead and she was on foot. She stopped and removed her shoes; she flexed her feet and concentrated. The talons her kind used for fighting grew from each toe. Now she had the grip she needed to really run, she began to follow the dust trail of the hummer unless he kept going she should catch up before too long, She just hoped it wasn't too late.
He had dragged her from the car by her hair and tossed her to the ground. She stood watching him approach and turned to run. He caught her before she got twenty feet. He spun her around and began backhanding her across the face. His hand dug into her hair and het punched her in the stomach with the other hand. He mauled her tits, squeezing and twisting them; he slapped her breasts back and forth, then slapped them from beneath watching the tits bounce.
He was in no hurry. He had the whole night. This was the part he enjoyed the most, reducing these whores to quivering piles of pain that would do anything he ordered. He preferred to do this with women he picked up at bars and clubs because they were the real whores.
They dressed to tease a man, show him their hard young bodies and tight asses in clothes that revealed just enough to set a man on fire. Accepting his drinks and money, dancing and grinding at his groin but never expecting to have to put out. Oh no, that wasn't part of their deal. They would tease and touch, but when it came time to deliver they would laugh and walk away.
That's when he began to bring them out here. Here he was in control. Here the little whores would beg and plead to suck his cock. Here they would gut their best friend if only he would make the pain stop. Here he hurt and degraded and humiliated the bitches and here he took their stupid useless and wasteful lives and gave them time to think about the whores they were.
Just a little ways away was an old mine shaft. A mine he bought for nothing because it was played out. He sealed the front with a wall and steel door, inside about a hundred yards was a deep pit. At the bottom of that pit were the bodies of all those women he had brought to his place of redemption. He would play and hurt and torture them here, then lower them into the pit with a case of water bottles.
They would freak out seeing the bones of his last victims, they would search for a means to escape, and them they would find the knife and fork he left for them. They would see the water and realize they could live for weeks. But the only food was the body of the girl preceding them into his makeshift hell. Sometimes he had put his latest victim in while the last was still alive. He sometimes wondered which one had the nerve to kill the other. Some, a few he had let go, taking them back into town and dropping them near the club where he had picked them up. Those few had managed to convince him that they were not the cock teasers he had thought they were. But just a few, the rest went in the hole.
Sometimes he would sit at the top of the hole and listen to them plead and beg. He would talk to them explaining why they were in his stone cunt. He would listen to them promise anything he demanded if he would just let them go. He never did. Once they were in the hole they were in to stay. And die.
He caught the hooker again as she tried to run, this time he broke her leg. Still she tried to drag herself away. He went to the truck and took out the home made flogger he had built. It was made from leather strips and he had fastened razors blades on the tips. He wanted to see how well he could flail the skin from the whore.
He usually had a toy of some sort that he had read about on the internet and built. Many he had only used once because they did too much damage, after all one can't repent if one dies from the play.
He approached the girl amazed that she had managed to make it almost thirty yards away. She was strong this one, she would last a long time before he had to lower her into the pit.
"Come whore it's time to begin your redemption."
He raised his arm as he approached standing in the light of the headlights so she could see the tool of her pain and punishment. He began swinging it in a big figure eight. Soon the edges would brush her flesh, slicing thin lines through her flesh, so thin at first she wouldn't even feel them. Then the flesh would part and sweat and dirt would get in the wounds and the pain would begin.
Another whore stepped between him and his victim, where she came from he couldn't guess but if the bitch thought he would stop just because he now had two whores to play with she was going to find out he could play with two just as easy as one. Maybe he would have his first whore whip the second one. He swung the flogger across her face.
The tips open lines through her cheek and lips and sliced her nose. She screamed and attacked. He tossed the flogger away and punched at the bitch. She caught his hand. The bitch caught his hand. He looked into her eyes and saw the lines across her face thin and close and heal.
His hand she was crushing his hand. He pulled and struggled and still she squeezed until he could feel bones pop and snap. He screamed but of course there was no one to hear, that was the point of bringing the whores here in the first place. He looked up into her face and saw her start to smile and then he saw the fangs. Oh god those long sharp awful fangs.
Heather dropped the man's corpse and wiped he mouth on the sleeve of her whore top. She walked over to the whimpering girl still dragging herself across the rocks and sand.
"Shhh, it will be ok." She gazed into her eyes watching as the girl calmed and finally dropped off unconscious. Heather placed her gently in the back seat of the hummer. She looked around for a place to stash the body of the mad man she had killed. Her eyes followed a path barely visible in the rocky soil. Someone had been here a lot and she was betting she knew who. She followed the path to the wall in the rock and used the keys she had taken to open the door.
The smell hit her first. There was death here old death and new. She could taste the fear and pain and despair on the air as various flavors mixed together. She followed it to the pit and her enhanced senses made out the horrors at the bottom.
Heather went out and retrieved the man's body. If there were an after life then maybe the ghosts in this pit would get their revenge on the spirit of their killer as his body joined theirs.
Heather yanked one of the support posts as she left closing the steel door on the collapse that followed. That pit of horrors was closed for good.
Driving back to the highway she planned to drop the girl at the hospital emergency room then take the hummer to a car thief she knew. He would get her twenty thousand for the hummer no questions asked. After all it costs money to stay in Vegas and Mr. not so bad ass owed her a new blouse.
She walks through the hot summer night, her body glistening where flesh is exposed. She stalks her prey, keeping to the shadows in areas where they are most likely to be until she spots a target. The hunt is ongoing, never ending, one climax only leading to the next chase, the next hunt, the next prey because that is how you survive as a hooker or a vampire.
Forever is a long time to live.