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Tod smelled the acrid oil on the cool metal he held near his face. Up close it didn’t look as
smooth as it had in the storeroom. It had fine lines from the machining process & wasn’t as
heavy as it’d first seemed. He looked it over carefully, checking each screw, all the moving parts
and grip. It was ugly & powerful at the same time, but it would never be a thing of beauty. It was too cold, lifeless and mechanical looking to ever meet his standards of beauty.
The cold blue-black steel of the barrel stared at him without blinking as he saw the groves machine-cut inside the tube that was the muzzle, looked into single eye in the face of the instrument of death. He thought about the day he found it. A WW II vintage American made Colt revolver, loaded, as lethal looking as anything he’d ever seen in his thirty years. It made him tremble to consider he might one day fire the destructive weapon at another person.
Maybe at a wolf or weasel, even that oaf Owain, who tormented him at the pub as mercilessly now as he had years before while at school together. Owain married Penelope, the gold-haired beauty of their school and age group, though after two kids & ten years, Owain she no longer quite met Tod’s exacting personal standards for feminine beauty.
Kerith however, did meet his exacting standards for beauty. Her beautiful long red-gold hair danced in the wind of autumn, her fair milky skin, a scattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her smile with subtle dimples, her red lips curving up in a secret smile that showed brilliant, even white teeth. She’d lick her lips when she talked intently, the tip of her tongue flicking to wet those crimson lips, slender neck flexing as she swallowed.
Her shoulders, bare were scattered with freckles that trickled like flecks of golden sand down
over her bare breasts, almost translucently white, blue veins showing through her skin… barely a handful each, small and pert with reddish-blush colored aureole, with a tinge of orange tipped long erect nipples. The freckles trailed off, following her lean ribs, her heaving chest, smooth pale tummy, the small delicate dent of a belly button, slight gentle swell of her lower belly above her crotch, where her neat waist flared softly out to her hips. Her shape was unmistakable, lean and toned, just enough flesh to her hips over her pelvic bones to save her from skinniness.
Her legs were long and slender; the legs of an athlete, walker, swimmer, bike rider… Her feet were translucent like her breasts, pale, veins showing through, toenails artfully painted a light frosty violet like her fingernails. Nails shaped carefully not to crack, edges smooth, showing efforts to groom carefully. Just over her left ankle on the inside was a thin scar she’d told him was from a bicycle accident when she was eleven, long since healed. The soles of her feet were soft, smooth and pink, her calves and thighs, while well-shaped by exercise had smooth, supple curved lines, not the lined ridges and knots of a serious athlete. Her buttocks were firm and small.
Tod was able to grasp a cheek comfortably in each hand as he pulled her close. When she stood, her thin wispy pubic hair failed to hide her cunt-slit, her thighs parting slightly so her fur fluffed up, rather than plastering against her labia. Her back was milk white, clear of blemishes except a scratch from the same bike accident that marked her ankle. Her hands were fine-boned, with medium, slender fingers, a few sun freckles on the backs, soft palms marking her as a woman unused to rough manual labor. Her arms were lean-strong, not muscular, but shapely, underarms shaved clean. Her hair reached her sculpted shoulders, a stray wisp lying in the hollow of her collarbone. Her clear green eyes were open wide as she regarded Tod.
Since he’d set his trap a few weeks before, causing her to tumble from her bike as she rode along the river-path on her way to class, she’d been in his cottage. Her bike had long since been cut into scrap metal, the wheels now on Tod’s own bike. When she’d fallen, he quickly sprang from his hiding place in kocaeli escort the thicket, chloroformed her to unconsciousness, lifted her to covering bracken, wheeling her bike out of sight. He’d taken her to a nearby root cellar ‘til dusk, then carried her along the wood-path in the moonlight to his van, placed her in the back on a mat, covering her with a blanket after he forced her to take a couple of tablets of Easy-lay, the date-rape drug.
He retrieved her bike, took the wheels, dumped it beside the workshop in the village where he worked. Then he drove her to the old farm cottage where he’d lived alone since his aunt died. When Kerith came around, head pounding from chloroform and drugs, he gave her herbal tea and small vegetable sandwiches. Only as she started to regain consciousness, she realized she was naked, her right ankle manacled to the frame of the big iron bed.
As her body awareness returned, she knew her body’d been examined very closely… Did he rape her? She couldn’t tell for certain but suspected it… Her labia had definitely been stretched, her anus probed at least. She suppressed a shudder as she asked Tod where she was. He calmly replied she was home.
He was going to look after her from now on he said, his voice confident, with a slow eye that didn’t focus directly at her giving her the creeps. After finishing the tea and sandwiches he offered her a melon slice, which she declined. He asked if she needed to use the toilet. She gratefully assented. He rolled a commode chair alongside the bed, helped her on, looking away as she emptied her full bladder and nervously quivering bowels. She tried not to be embarrassed or upset when after she wiped with tissue. He used moist wipes to clean her quim and ass. Then he helped her back in the bed, took away the commode to empty.
When he returned a few minutes later, he’d washed, shaved, wearing an undershirt and boxers.
She trembled as he lay on the bed beside her, turning down the covers, removing his shirt. He
lay down, pulled the covers up, turning the lamp down low.
“I know your name is Kerith,” he said soft and low, “it’s a beautiful, unusual name… it suits you…” he said. “Mine’s Tod. I doubt you recognize me, but I’ve waved to you from the hay fields many times as you rode by. I know you’re an art student in town and keep to yourself. I’ve never seen you in the local pub or at church. You’ve no local male friends anyone here has ever seen you with. You live alone in that wee little place by the old mill.
I’ve longed for you since you came to live in these parts, and decided to have you for my own. Since you keep to yourself so much and make yourself scarce, the only way I could find to
catch you was take you on the bike path. So here you are.
In time, you’ll learn to accept, obey and hopefully take to me. I hope one day you’ll want me the way I want you. In the meanwhile, when I’m having my way with you, try to relax so I don’t hurt you too much. I’m well-endowed and don’t want relations to be too unpleasant for you. I looked you over while you slept off the draught. I have to say, I love everything I saw, head to foot. I want to keep you the rest of your days.”
“You mean, you just grabbed me off the bike path, brought me here and expect me to accept
it? You’re talking as if I’m going to be a sort of wife to you…” she gasped.
“Aye, you are, and in case you can’t tell, it’s consummated too. I didn’t know if you were virgin or no, so I took you while you were unconscious, so it wouldn’t pain too much if you were, my lad being large and all. Now of course, I can put a little Vaseline on it to compensate for you not
being properly primed.” She gasped out loud as he drew back the sheet, pulling off his boxers, applying a thick dab of the gooey petroleum jelly to the tip of the largest penis she’d ever seen, even in skin magazines, porno movies or her previous considerable personal experience. His member would have been the envy of most of those male porn models and actors.
He parted her shaking knees insistently, taking her kocaeli escort bayan by the hips, guiding the tip of the monster cock to her dry labia. She felt the cold grease smear her pubic hair and along her tight slit, then the sensation of being split in half as he poled her deeply, driving his 15″ length into her, his penis’ girth bigger than her wrist.
“Could you please not be so rough?” Kerith gasped, “you’re going to tear me in two…”
He gave a small smile, thrusting a little gentler.
“You need more Vaseline,” she said.
He pulled out, applied a generous gob, then re-entered her.
“I’ve never even heard of a human one so big,” she muttered between gritted teeth, “yours reminds me of horses and bulls I’ve seen in the pastures.”
“I know, I couldn’t find a local lass willing to take me, not even slutty ones. If I went to the bigger towns & paid a whore, most gave back the money, pulled on their clothes and ran.
So finally I had to resort to the old ways… bride-capture.” he said slowly as he stroked long
languid thrusts into her stretched cunt. “Now I claim right of consummation so I can call you my
“Just be careful with me, you’re more than I think than nature ever expected me to receive down
there,” she said wryly. “Next time, prime me first, then use the lubricant to help things along,”
she said between gasps.
He grinned a moment, pleased she was being compliant.
She held her breath, stiffening momentarily as she climaxed in spite of herself as his huge log of a cock was shoved into her overstuffed pussy. Her wetness made him slide a little easier. She suppressed another orgasm as he gave a groan, pumping a vast quantity of semen into her. Even when she’d been hooking steadily during her art school days none of the other white hookers wanted to go with “that mob of horny darkies,” as they said at the time. She’d been all night with them, left raw & tender in the dawn light with all their wallets, watches, passports & other jewelry and valuables. She also left them unknowingly harboring plenty of HIV-positive semen within her beautiful body.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed to Tod, “I think you’d better get a towel, or we’ll have to sleep in a wet bed tonight.”
He picked up his undershirt as he withdrew, wiped her pubes gently, dried off his huge cock and once again, wiped off her drenched cunt. Pulling the covers over them both, he lay back with a contented sigh and turned out the light.
Lying on her back, she reached out, taking a firm grip on his thick penis. He sighed and fell
asleep. The morning sky was lightening as she woke, still holding his sword of flesh. She quickly had him erect, got astride and began to fuck him. His eyes opened and focused on her as she impaled herself on his massive staff. She was wet from the previous night’s come and desire to achieve dominance over his enormous phallus and Tod himself. He heard her breath coming in gasps and moans as he pushed up into her tender center, reached his work-calloused hands, grasping and fondling her small pale breasts that swayed before his eyes, as her coral colored nipples stiffened in the cool morning air.
Her back arched as she came, again a couple of minutes later. Her eyes rolled back ‘til only the whites showed. She trembled violently as she climaxed, receiving his gush of hot seed. With a groan of exhaustion, she tumbled off, buried her head on the pillow, falling asleep again, her red hair clinging wet to her slender neck.
Before he left for work, he woke her to a breakfast tray of oranges, tea, toast and cheese. He placed the commode chair where she could access it to relieve herself later, kissed her forehead and departed.
Looking around the room at leisure, she realized it was a better safe house than the cottage she’d been staying in… Here, where no one except Tod knew where she was. In recent weeks she’d expected discovery by the authorities, whether police, health department or the clinic.
She smiled to herself, considering her secret and the curse Tod unwittingly took yahya kaptan escort upon himself.
Now as she was entering full-blown AIDS, she’d soon show outward signs; It was how long? Three years or longer since she’d had a good skin on skin fuck. Tod would pay dearly for the ‘bride – capture’ with his life.
Meanwhile, she’d be taken care of & favor him as she was willing and able ‘til she began weakening. With any luck, when she was beyond medical help, he’d question what was wrong. She’d wait ‘til then to tell him… Maybe he’d fly into a rage and end it quickly, rather than let her suffer, like some she’d known.
Wanted by the police for prostitution, sexual battery, and now attempted murder charges for
knowingly having unprotected sex, not telling her partners she was HIV positive, this quiet
place would do well for a hospice to spend her last days. She ate breakfast, used the commode
and lay in bed, reading a paperback she found in the night table.
Tod came home lunch time, brought her a sandwich & a beer, got her more books to pass the afternoon with. When he got home for supper she had him shackle her leg to his so she could move about with him as he got the meal, ate at the table nude, cuddled against him for warmth as he watched the TV after they ate. When she got bored with the program (he didn’t have cable), she started rubbing his crotch causing his heavy meat to engorge. She kissed him and had him finger her slit ‘til she was wet from a manual orgasm before she knelt astride his lap on the couch, the TV still on in the background.
His head was leaned back at the point of climax when she overheard her legal name mentioned on the news. She glanced over her shoulder, saw the two year old picture of herself. With her shorter styled hair, a hat, big dark sunglasses and bright yellow dress, outside the court… She bent her head to nuzzle his hair, moaning and kissing him as his sperm gushed into her inner recesses.
She climaxed powerfully, muffling her cries in his curly dark hair. She lay on him like that ‘til the news was over, had him turn off the set to take her to bed for a repeat performance. Tod was so delighted, it didn’t occur to him to wonder why she was anxious to be used sexually by a man whose last name she didn’t even know, and hadn’t asked.
That winter, she developed a flu and cough that wouldn’t go away. At times her body flushed
from head to toe, her skin hot to the touch and too painful for him to apply cooling cloths. Tod
went to the doctor, acting, trying to describe her symptoms as his own. Among other things,
the doctor took blood tests. It was a week later the pale-faced doctor called Tod into the clinic
as he walked home from work to inform him he was HIV positive and could he make him a list
of all his sex partners from the previous three years or longer if possible.
Arriving home, Tod confronted Kerith with his news. Enraged by a duplicity that was about to
take his life, when she wouldn’t look him in the eye, he grabbed her by her beautiful red-gold
hair. With a single wrenching motion, Tod broke her neck, killing her. That she’d infected him with HIV, shocked him back to reality as he considered what he’d done and what he now faced from the law on top of his health troubles…
That moment brought him once more to his contemplation of the revolver. After considering the options, he placed the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. There was a click but it didn’t fire. He tried again twice more, before leaning his chin on his hands, barrel under his chin, accidentally stroking the trigger of the wartime antique. The roar of the old pistol’s barrel splitting as the shell exploded was deafening in the confined space.
The explosion cut a ragged tunnel up from his chin through his mouth, his brain, blowing off the top of his skull. He was already dead as he dropped face-down at the kitchen table. When he didn’t show for work next day, his boss sent the delivery boy to look for him. The boy saw Tod slumped over the table in a pool of blood and called police.
The officers responding were accompanied by the doctor. The cold lifeless body of Kerith was discovered, along with her identification papers & most pertinent questions about the case were answered. They buried the ill-fated lovers side by side in a paupers’ grave, just outside the cemetery wall.
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