By T. J. Scott & M. L. Erwin

 

Just standing around at the class reunion, Emma Thornhill decided it would be the last one she would ever attend.  Just looking at everybody made her want to puke.  She was sure she was the subject of much of the conversations.  All through high school she hadn’t dated anybody.  Of course, it was long before the gay-lesbian rumors began to fly.  Nothing could have been further from the truth.  There hadn’t been anybody worth fucking.  She didn’t want to wear anybody’s football jacket or their gaudy class ring around her neck.

Plenty of guys liked her.  She even thought of lowering her standards.  Not that one race was any better than any other.  But in a small one stop light town in Texas, White stayed with White.  Some of the Mexican boys had been interesting.  Sammy Gonzales would gesture at her and she could see he had a nightstick in his pants.

She looked at him now from across the room.  He stood by his fat wife, Rosa.  Sammy was balding and Rosa most likely had turned the nightstick to jelly.

There was Danny Costa but he wanted to be White so bad he was determined to be a white collar geek.  That robbed him of all his Mexican spirit.  Last, she heard he was on his fourth marriage.

Roy Alazar was aggressive but he was all of five feet.  Not much fun being with a guy whose ass you could kick.

There were some White guys she thought about.  Guy Bolton had a rep for his fish eating ability.  He walked around smiling all the time, reminding her of the joker.  Crazy Willie Dale was just that – crazy.

She might have tried the Black guys but in her high school there wasn’t one cool Black student.  They thought smoking weed made them cool just like the White guys did.

In college it was much the same – fraternities, beer parties, football games, barn fires and pep rallies.

Oh, she wasn’t a virgin; she had a white, black and brown dildo, even a very short yellow one.  She wouldn’t want to leave any race out.

The number one reason she couldn’t find the man she wanted was the fact that none of them were killers.  That’s right; she wanted to be with a killer.  Not some gang-banger doing drive-bys or some deprived nut like Manson.  He had to look normal and he had to be smart.

Lisa Myers approached her.  “Hey, Emma, what are you thinking about?  The good old days?”

Emma tried to smile.  She’d kept in contact with Lisa and Mona.  They had been her friends in high school.  “There ain’t any good old days.”

Lisa did a quick scan of Emma’s body.  She was no larger than she was when they graduated high school.  She had a killer butt and legs and a non-existent waistline.  If anything she looked better.

“Well, you know what I mean.  Seeing anybody?”

“No.”

“Girl, you look so good.”

Mona Mayberry joined them.

“Doesn’t she look good, Mona?”

“Yes, she does.”

Emma let them talk, she spotted someone she thought she recognized.  “Yes, it was him.  His black wavy hair was gray but it was Mr. Williams.  He stared at her and nodded, letting Emma know that, yes he remembered too.

Emma thought back to her senior year in high school.  Mr. Williams taught Algebra.  She sat up front.  She never knew what to make of him.  He had a deep voice and on the occasions he smiled he reminded her of Charleston Heston, bad teeth and all.  She studied him half the school year before she decided to try something.  There was more to Mr. Williams than meets the eye.  Maybe it wasn’t a dark-side but there was something there.

She always sat wide legged and she’d seen him sneak a peek.   This day she wore no underwear at all.  Mr. Williams noticed immediately but he taught the class with his same composure.  When he sat down to let the class work, he stared at her and then between her legs.  She wore no panties the rest of the month.  She waited for him to want to speak to her after class but he never asked her to stay.

At the end of the school year, she waited after class.  He sat with his legs crossed holding a pencil as she shut the classroom door.  She walked over to him.

“Can I help you, Emma?”

“Don’t you want to at least touch it, smell it or something?  I was hoping you wanted to fuck me.”

“I’ve enjoyed the view.  Your 18 but I’m afraid you still have a lot of growing up to do.”

She stared at his nerdy bowtie.  “Really?”

She turned to leave.

“Emma.”

She spun back around.

“I thought you said I could touch it.”

She walked close to him, raising her short dress.  He surprised her by smiling, not a slight smile but a huge grin.  His fingers felt warm and she felt him insert one finger ever so slightly.  He took his hand away and she let her dress fall.

“Is that it?” she asked sternly.

“What college will you be attending?”

She calmly walked out.

Now there he was.  His hair was all white but besides that he looked the same.  She left Lisa and Mona talking, not even bothering to excuse herself.

Mr. Williams smiled as she approached.

“Mr. Williams.”

“I believe your old enough now to call me Frank.”

He smiled and she liked his big square teeth with the gap in between them.  Combined with his bushy eyebrows it gave him a sinister look.

“Hello, Frank.”

She looked about for his wife.  “Where’s your wife?”

“She left me 10 years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“And your husband, Emma?”

“Never found one.”

“And why not?  You look beautiful, delicious I might add.”

His eyes said it all and she liked that.

“Unless there’s something holding you here would you like to leave, Frank?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll leave my car here,” she said.  “You can take me back to it in the morning.”

She was very impressed when he led her to a huge black Hummer.  “You’re kidding?”

“Oh no, I’ve had it a couple of years now.  You like it?”

“It speaks volumes.”

She felt moisture between her legs.  “Just looking at it gets me wet.”

He was about to help her up but pulled her back into his arms.  They kissed.  Several people looked on.

She had to catch her breath.  He smiled, those eyebrows looking like Mr. Hyde’s.  Not to be out done, she grabbed his crotch.  She watched porn movies a lot but she probably hadn’t seen anything as large as what she was now clutching.  She looked in his eyes and there was a savagery that frightened her for a moment.

“Take it out here and I’m afraid we’ll be arrested.”

She let go.  “I’ll wait.”

She got in and she loved the Hummer.  The black interior matched her mood.  He got in moving with ease.  How old was he?

“I see you keep in shape, how old are you?”

“Sixty-six.  I retired last year and you my dear just turned 40.”

“Correct.”

He stared at her legs and she kicked off her shoes.  She glanced outside and people glanced in their direction but seemed to turn away in fear.  When she was in school, she remembered he was a very popular teacher.

“The people in this small town don’t understand me.  Lately, I enjoy trips to the city.”

“Oh, I live in Dallas.”

“Yes, the art district downtown is very entertaining, but I like to kinda slum about when I’m in the city.”

“Really?”

“That surprises you?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Our culture has changed.  Not for the better, I’m afraid.  In the early 90s I started visiting the city on a regular basis.  I’m planning to buy a house in New York.”

“New York?”

“Yes, the gateway to hell.”

She was smiling at him now.

“I see my adventurous side pleases you.”

“Very much so.”

“Now tell me, Emma, why haven’t you ever married?”

Her heart was racing.  In all her years she’d only told two men her reasons.  She’d been dating them both and when she told them she never heard from them again.

“I want a man that’s a killer.”

“I see.”

“Is that all you have to say?”
“You mean that he’s capable of killing or he has already killed people?”

“I guess I mean both.  I want him to be mysterious but smart.  Violent in a controlled manner.  And he has to like blood.  In college I saw a shrink for about a year.”

“You thought you needed help?”

“Don’t you think I do?”

“You only have one life.  Society and the church have put together rules we’re expected to live by.  Did I leave out our government?  Them too.  Once upon a time the government worked for us, now we work for them.  By the year 2015 you’ll be expected to kiss the ass of any government official you pass on the street.  If you don’t you’ll be branded a terrorist and you’ll lose your license and your house.”

She laughed.
“The point I’m getting at is if you go by the rules you might find yourself living an unfulfilled life.  Maybe you’ve always wanted to see what it’s like to screw two men at once.  Maybe you want to drive a car 130 mph.  And maybe you want to kill somebody.”

“And you, Frank.  Have you lived your life doing what you feel?”

He grinned at her, she was rather getting use to his sinister grin now.

He fumbled with his pants until he freed his erect cock.  She stared at the huge thing.

“When you first saw my cock, what ran through your mind?  I’m not asking you what you were taught, what did you really think?”

“I thought how good it might be to suck it.”

“What stopped you?”

She leaned over and put her mouth over his cock.

“We’re the little people, Emma.  We have to enjoy ourselves everyway we can.  George Bush will have our troops at war until we’re economically raped the entire country.  Those stupid soldiers would shit their pants if they saw a congressman’s check.  Yet, they get a little rough with prisoners and their prosecuted.”

He fell silent for a moment.  “I’m going to blow, my dear.”

Her mouth remained.  He heard her gag as he pulled up to his fence.  She raised up as he punched in his security code.

“When did you build this?”

“I’ve had it almost 15 years.  I like my privacy.”

“Frank, have you ever thought about killing someone?”

“Not in the past but around 1987 the country started turning to shit.  Now I think about it all the time.”

“I think of it so much sometimes I think it’s gonna drive me crazy.”

She noticed his cock was still out and beginning to harden again.

She’d seen his old house but this one was three times larger with a huge garage.  She walked a little behind him and she was impressed with his bobbing cock.  A man of his age.

She watched as he punched in the alarm code.  She held her cell phone in her hand and punched in the numbers then quickly hit store.

“How many rooms?” she asked.

“Eighteen.”

“Not bad on a teacher’s retirement.”

“My wife had money.   I convinced her to part with some of it before she left me.  Also I won several literary awards under another name.  Have you heard of Sonny Flowers?”

“Yes.  He writes about serial killers.  You’re him?”

“In the flesh.  So we have something in common.”

“Yes, we do.”

“There’s a bar upstairs, let’s go up.  I can’t wait to see you nude.”

“When did you start writing about serial killers?”

“About 20 years ago.”

“I love your books and stories..  You really believe the real serial killers are the ones that are never caught?”

“Look at the people that are missing in this country.  Unless a detective steps on a body he never finds anybody.  The only way the cops ever find anything is they’re tipped off.   Police are only experts at harassing minorities with no auto insurance, that’s their bread and butter.”

“What would you like to drink, Emma?”

She looked at the bed.  “Your bed is beautiful.”  She flopped down on it.  “God it’s soft.”

“I’m going to try and drive you through it when I fuck you.  I hope you don’t mind.”

She watched him undress.  He was in excellent shape.  His entire body was covered with gray hair.

“So all these years you’ve held out to get a serial killer inside you.  Will the author of books about serial killers do?”

She was smiling.  Their was something perversely wicked about him.  “Yes, you’ll do fine for now.”  She undressed while sitting on the bed.

His house was a bit eerie.  Although decorated nicely, mostly everything was antique.

She watched him pop two pills in his mouth but didn’t ask what they were.  They sat on the bed sipping their drinks, his eyes admiring her body.  If indeed he wasn’t a serial killer he had the aura of one.

The lovemaking was vicious.  His cock was huge and it felt like steel.  He was a sloppy kisser, slobbering and at times licking her face.  His wife had been a dainty, nose-in-the-air, type.  She couldn’t imagine him making love to her in this manner.  There was no doubt in her mind he was enjoying her.  He raised her legs kissing her muscular calves.

“Your toes look good enough to eat,” he said.

The dim light cast such an eerie shadow on his face she thought he might bite her toes off.

The pills he’d taken had to be some form of sexual stimulation because he lasted forever.  All her years of wondering what this or that might feel like ended that night.  As she yelled out, she could hear his teeth grinding.

“Embrace the pain, Emma, the pain and torture is what it’s all about.”

At one point she murmured, “You’re killing me.”

His response was to hiss out a wicked laugh.

After an hour and a half she found she was still alive and he reverted back to the school teacher she’d known.  He held a glass to her lips as she sipped bourbon.

“You ever kill anybody, Frank?”

“No.”

“Why not, let’s do it together.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, somebody in town, or a stranger.”

“How would you kill them?  Would you like to do it slow or fast.”

“Slow, very slow.”

“Torture?”

“Yes, extreme torture.”

“By torturing them you can see inside their soul.  You can see everything about them.  You smell the coward or you see a tiger ready to bust out if given the chance.”

“Do you think people kill very many tigers?”

“No, it’s the sheep of society which is prayed upon, always will be.  God made them to be slaughtered.”

She’d never really noticed before but Frank was huge.  Besides having a monster cock, he had hams for hands.  His head seemed enormous.  She watched him gulp down his drink and smile.

“Why do you think our society is more drawn to anal sex these days, Emma?”

“It’s taboo, like going with a Black man in the 60s, or admitting you were gay in the 80s.”

“Don’t you believe there’s a pain factor?”

“Yes.”

“Turn over, please.”

Five hours later she awoke in bed alone.  Her head and her anus were pounding.  She steadied herself before she got out of bed.

“Frank, are you here?” she yelled out but no answer.

This was her chance to search the house.  Her mind told her he had to have a body hidden somewhere.  She went downstairs to make sure he wasn’t in the house.  “Frank, Frank, are you in here?”

She looked outside and saw that his Hummer was gone.  She hurried about.  After an hour she was frustrated.  Maybe all he did was write about serial killers.  She decided to rummage through all the drawers.  She found a spare set of keys and gate and alarm codes.  She hurried back upstairs and put them in her purse.  She thought of showering and getting dressed then decided not to.

She went downstairs to wait for him.  He came in carrying McDonald’s bags.  The town had moved up a little, she thought.

“I see you’re up and you look stunning.”

“I’m very sore.”  It felt good saying what she wanted to say.

“Not as sore as you’re going to be.”

“Besides getting breakfast, where have you been?”

“I went to check on my next victim.”

He sat down with her and she hurriedly opened the bags.

“Frank, let’s kill somebody, you’re a smart man and I’m no dummy.  Let’s do it together.”

“You have somebody in mind?”

“Yes I do, Lisa, Lisa Myers.”

She’d expected him to be shocked, after all she’d been one of his students.  Instead he chuckled.

“Why Lisa?”

“I’ve never liked her.  And she’s really never liked me.  She always thought she was one of the ‘it’ girls but really she wasn’t.  She’s ugly, her family just has money.

Frank watched her closely.  She chewed while she was talking, her small breast jumping up and down.

“What would you do to her?”

“First I’d attack her with my fists.  I would hope she’d fight back.  That would make things more interesting.  After I beat her down…”

He raised his biscuit.  “That’s Black slang, I heard it on TV.”

“Right.”

“I’d tie her up, I think I’d cut her fingers off first.  It would be important to me that she shit and pissed herself.”

“Why?”

“Stripping her of her pride I guess.  I know I’d keep slapping her until her face was swollen.  I’d sit down and listen to her beg me for awhile.”

“Any sexual assault?”

“Not for arousement but for pain.”

“How long would you keep her alive?”

“As long as possible.  Kidnapping somebody for torture can’t be easy.”

“You’re right there.”

“So you’ve done it?”

“You tell me?”

“I can’t decide.  I searched the house but I didn’t find anything.”

“So maybe I’m just a writer.”

“Maybe, but you can kill, I see it in your eyes.”

He stood up and she judged him to be at least six five.

“You really stimulate me, Emma, mentally and physically.  Come, I want to show you a hidden room.”

She followed him.  This would be where he kept the bodies.  He touched a picture on the wall and a hidden door opened.  She stepped inside but there were no bodies.  It was a sexual torture chamber.

“If I make it through this, then you’ll show me the bodies?  I get it, I have to earn my way.”

He was already removing his clothes.  “Step over to the table, I need to strap your hands and ankles.”

She was very excited.  “Make me your whore.”

She felt a leather whip across her back and she yelled.  Her perfect ass twisted in a sexual motion.  Frank hit her again and again and her sexy hips danced.  He was covered with sweat, his wavy hair falling in his face.  He whipped her for at least a half hour.  Neither could control their excitement much longer.

With trembling hands he sat the whip down and entered her.  He put a large finger in her mouth and she bit down on it hard, drawing blood.  They climaxed together as he sunk his teeth in her shoulder.

She felt him step away.  Before she caught her breath she felt something hot go inside her.  The heat itself was unbearable but when the thing shocked her she screamed so loud she figured her soul had left her body.

In and out, out and in he probed her.  His face was a mask of insane pleasure as he held his tongue between his big teeth.  He waited for her to beg him to stop but she didn’t.

At one time she figured she had to be his first victim.  He was going to fuck her too death with that cattle prod or whatever it was.  Not before she had one last orgasm.

He smiled as she came, he rejoiced as she let go all the waste inside her body.  One more jab but he could see she’d passed out.

She awoke three hours later.  She smelled like roses.  He had obviously bathed her.  She heard voices and realized it was him talking on the phone.  She sat up so she could hear more clearly.

“I think I’ve found the girl of my dreams, Mark.  She’s willing to do anything I ask.  Get this, she thinks I might be a serial killer. … Is she built?  Her legs and ass are a work of art.”

She was up and throwing on her clothes in seconds.  She grabbed her purse and picked up her shoes.  Now she was standing in the doorway.  “Tell Mark that’s the last time you’re ever going to see this fine ass, you fucking jerk.”

She was down the stairs and out the door as he yelled for her to stop.

Outside she remembered her car was at the high school auditorium.  Never mind, she felt like walking.

The sheriff cruised past her, unrolling his window.  She recognized him, it was Gary Preston.  He tried to act tough and official as he shifted a toothpick right to left.

“You coming from Frank William’s place?”

“Hi, Gary, you look different without all the pimples.”

He touched his face.  “Hey, Emma, you need a ride?”

“Sure.”

She got in letting her dress crawl up her thighs.  She didn’t bother to pull it down.

“You should stay away from William’s place.”

“Why?”

“He’s strange.”

“He’s just a pervert, that’s all.”

“His wife was never found.”

“I thought they divorced.”

“So did everybody else.  Her brother and her mom reported her missing.  Detectives questioned Williams and searched his place but they didn’t find anything.  She’s been missing nine years now.  And before she turned up missing she signed everything over to him.  Figure that.”

“I remember his wife, they were never happy.”

“So he goes and kills her?”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not just that, Emma.  Williams goes out of town a lot.  To the city.  Once some kids said they saw him take in a huge bag, and the bag was moving.  The boy that saw him had those infrared binoculars.

“People spy on him?”

“The man is strange.  I did a routine stop a year ago.  He was getting back into town.  I know I smelled ether coming from his car.  It was very strong.  A Black kid in Dallas disappeared, he was 22.  His sister described William to the T.”

“How old was she?”

“Nine, which is old enough.”

“He had a work crew from Germany come to his home.”

“Why would he hire foreigners, because they work cheaper?”

“I’m just warning you that’s all.  He dropped her at her car.  She got in then thought of all the things he’d been saying.  What if he was a killer?  He could sure fuck like one.  She let her hand rest between her legs.

She waited until it was night, well past midnight.  She got in the gate and the house easily.  She crept about hoping he wouldn’t see her and shoot.  She’d found several places he hid guns.  She searched the entire house.  He must be in the torture room.  Did he have somebody with him?

She touched the picture and the panel slid back.  She got an eerie feeling this time when she was in the room.  She walked a little further and to her left was a trap door.  She looked down.  The stairs led down.  She heard Williams’ voice.  If she discovered him he might kill her.  If he were truly a serial killer, he might kill her.  No, they had chemistry, he wouldn’t kill her. She knew how stupid that sounded but she had to see anyway.  Somebody screamed and she decided to go back.

“Emma, is that you on the stairs?  Come look what daddy has for you.”  His voice sounded chilly and unnatural.  “Come on, don’t be shy.”

She crept down the stairs.  The first person she saw was a Black woman, chained to a square cement block.  She had a large forehead and Williams had shaved her head. There were huge bloody sores in her head.

“Baby, please help me,” the woman muttered.

Williams switched on a light.  She stared at him.  He was almost nude.  Leather straps crisscrossed across his chest and crotch.  His ass was almost exposed except for the thick belt of leather up his crack.  He was holding a leather whip and an electric prod that looked like a dildo.

“That’s Gail Ray.  I went on a religious retreat with her.  She’s not really my type as far as a victim but when I heard her worshipping that minister, I had to have her.  Listen to this, I tried to get ransom from her pastor.  I even sent him photos.  He turned them in to the police.”  Williams laughed.  “His Sunday sermon said Gail was in God’s hands.  In other words, honey, you can’t have a penny of his money.”

Emma chuckled and Frank stepped close to her.

“This is John.  He’s almost dead now but when he was active, boy, did this fucker have a mouth on him.  I cut in front of him on a trip to Dallas.  He called me a son of a bitch.  My mother was a Baptist not a bitch.  I followed him home.  My mother’s honor was on the line.”

Emma smiled.  “For sure.”

Frank noticed she began to undress.

“You ever sucked a cunt, Gail?” Emma asked.

“Oh no, Gail’s a holy roller.”

Emma kicked her in the mouth hard.  She looked about, there was a strong air vent.  “The smell will kill you otherwise.  I can tell.”

“Oh, John used to eat wood rats until his feet got infected.”

Emma noticed the man had no feet.

“This next guy is Lee Bird, a child molester.  Did you know he was working at a school?  I was a guess speaker there.  I could smell Underoos all over old Lee.”

“Is he dead?”

Frank put his hand to Lee’s nose, his mouth hung open.  “I think he is.”

Emma looked behind Lee.  There was a huge baseball bat jammed up his ass.

“That’s Lee’s bat by the way, the signatures are probably all the kids he molested.”

“This next joker’s name is Troy.  He had a website bragging about fucking his mother and his daughter.”

Emma couldn’t tell if Troy was dead or alive.  His cock and balls had been removed.  The next person was Frank’s wife, Alfie.

“You two have met.”

Emma stared at the woman, except for a small layer of skin she was a skeleton.

“Nag, nag, nag, that’s all she ever did.  I keep her alive, hell, we’re still married.”

Emma noticed Frank’s cock was erect and she grabbed hold of it.

The next guy was huge, Emma took a step back.

“This big bastard wants to be a rapper.  Him and his mates held me up at McDonald’s.  I used my phone to take a photo of his license.  Now he has a long rap sheet but he can forget about being a rapper.”

“This guy asked me for my I.D. at a roach infested motel.  Didn’t you, Tailor?”

“I said I’m sorry, sir.”

“Save it, Patel, besides, by now your brother’s driving your car and fucking your wife.”

Emma was impressed with his wit.

“This young lady is Tammy.  She’s a prostitute.  I haven’t had the heart to kill her; she gives a good blow job.”

Emma frowned.  She scanned the room.  There was a machete on the wall.  She got it and walked over to Tammy.  Frank smiled as her muscles in her legs and buttocks flexed.  With on powerful swing Tammy’s head rolled.

Emma felt so good she felt she might pass out.  She leaned on Frank to steady herself.

“Last, but not least, a gift from me to you.”

It was Lisa.  She was chained to a chair.  “Emma, help me.  He’s insane.”

“I just cut that bitches head off and you ask me for help.”

“Emma, please.”

Frank stood behind her.  She felt his cock against her.

“I knew you’d find the extra keys and the codes.”

“Gary Preston’s on to you.”

“You think you could get him to join you in the city for a date?”

“Easy.”

“That’s my girl.”

She raised the bloody machete poking Lisa’s nipple with it.

“You see, Emma, these people deserve to die.  You might say I’m a nice serial killer, praying on the scum of society.”

Lisa stared at Emma.  Saliva streamed from the corner of Emma’s mouth.  Her hair fell in her face; she no longer looked like herself.

“Turn her over, Frank, and hand me that cattle prod thing.”

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