Leonard

"Yeah!" it was the little Chiquita, "Mamasita wan barrita?" I grabbed it in my pants to show her what I mean if she looked up.  She just jerked her kid's little arm, and hurried past to the Elementry school, "AND YOUR LITTLE DOG TOO!" I thought that was clever.  The Mexicans we had last week taught me Momacita, it really means Little Dog, or Little Bitch, cause it means a girl.

They was gone, though.  We don't need Manuel Labor for taping, and floating the walls, an all the other guys don't know spanglish.  I got a laugh, and kept loading my tape gun, waiting for Chiquita to come back.  Maybe without the kid she'd loosen up a little.  Hot little thing, I mean short, and stumpy, but with a decent pair, and hips you could hang a balcony off each side.  Her sweatpants rolled back, and forth behind her when she walked, like ta hypnatise me.

Anyway, I snapped it shut, and looked down, but it wasn't her.  "Damn!" now that's more like it.  Tall, hair up behind her, her long legs under the skirt, swinginging tight on this side of her ass with each step.  For a moment, I was speachless.  "Hey!" I yelled down to her, "I got some business for ya!"  she stopped, turned, then looked down at my pumping hands, right where her hips should be.

"Lenny," I turned to Mike, the foreman.

"Yeah?" I grinned, he don't always think it's funny, but hey, it's free speech.

"That's the new electrician."  he shook his head, and laughed.

"What?" I looked back, at her not quite suit, the sensible running shoes black to match it.  Sure enough, she switched the sonotube in her hands, and turned to walk through the gate, up into the site.  We was almost done with this job, a little late because of the framers pokin ass.

She came up the steps, shook hands with Mike, then smiled over at me.  "Mind your own business," she smiled, giggled at the joke, and my embarassment.  Up here, I could tell that it was just a jacket, and the skirt was, like, sweatshirt cloth.  Her legs up close looked weird, still long, and skinny, but so striped with muscle you couldn't see the bone, like cables.

My gun was loaded, so I took off to finish the tape, and float.  "Fuckin bitch," out of earshot, "Who does she think she is?"  If I hurried, I could wrap it up by lunch, and move on to the next job.  Still, there ain't that much left, so I set down the "banjo", and got the little wooden case from my toolbags.  Swivaling the lid, the little "Cigarette" popped out, and I poked it down into the cavity to load it.  "No need to save it for lunch," I lit it, and a real one to cover the smell.

"Goddamnit!" Mike come around the corner, and busts me.  Getting all pissy, "It's not even 10 o clock yet!"

I grab the Banjo, "No, put that down."  Drop it, "You harrass every lady that walks by, INCUDING the new contractor, who happens to be a personal freind of the OWNER,"

"Look," I start, "I..."

"Shut the fuck up!" he points out the open door frame, "And get the fuck off the site, I'll mail your fucking check just grab your shit, and get your ass out of here."

"Fine!" I grab the banjo, and put my other hand up to push him out of the way, but he steps back.

"Touch me and you'll spend the night in county."  The county hotel, fucking jail.  

"Mother fucker," he's lucky I didn't bring my deathstick up.  Fuck him, I finished the hit on my way down, and puffed on my cig while I packed another on the landing.

"Hey," she snaps her fingers a bunch of times, "You do punch out?"

"What?" the electrician, standing by a pile of outlet boxes, and light cans.

"I need to install all these, but now I only got a couple days."  yeah, not all prissy now, huh bitch?

"Sure," I looked around.  The lower floor, already taped, and floated, ready to paint.  "Where's it all go?"  Really open, it's basicly one big room, with the bathroom under the stairs, and the plumbing connections for the kitchen on the back wall.  Took the three of us a day, and a half to sheet, and finish it, didn't look like too much sparky to wire up.  Mike fired to many people, and risked getting fired for it, like our last electrician.

"Ken you read prints?" she had them out of the spiral wound cardboard tube.

"Sure," the electrical schematics mean nothing to me, but I could read the measurements.  Taking out a keyhole saw, and razor knife, I got to work on the outlet by the stairs.

"What're you doing?" mike stomped down.

"It's all right!" my new boss run over, "I need him, to finish the job on time."

"You hired him?" he made a fucked up face.

"Just for the weekend,"  she held up her hand, as if to block him from coming down the stairs.  I was standing up by then, not holding the knife, and saw out where he could see them.  "I have to be back monday."

"Where's your crew?" he looked around.

"Up in Tampa," she pushed him, back up the stairs with one hand, "And I don't have time to hire another crew."

"But" he got to the top, and lost his ballance, trying to take one more step.

"Keep working!" some hair pulled loose as she turned back to me, eyes feirce.

"Yes maam," I tried not to sas her, and went back down to finish the box cutout.  "Bitch."  I ain't going to bore you with cutout, the box is this size, so you need a little square hole right where the plan says.  So, I stick in the keyhole saw, and rough it out, about a quarter" in so I can whittle it smooth with the razor knife.  That's the plan, anyway, but cutting across the top, the saw stops, against wood before even the short roughcut is done.  "Fuck."  

"What is it?" She comes down, not stomping, or breathless, calm as can be voice.

"There's a stud," I wiggled the saw blade against it, "Shud I cut it out for the box, or move it over?"

"let me see," she squats down, knees together, and I get out of her way.  Wigling the saw, she taps my pencil marks with her fingertip, "This where it goes?"

"Yeah," I scratched my head, "I didn't frame this one."  16" on center, but not exactly, they must've started from the far wall, and over measured by a cunt hair each time.  After about 10' it came out to almost a half inch, looked like.

"Move it over," she got up, and dusted off her hands.

I shrug, and get back down to go to work.

Fucking pig, he was perfect.  Not attractive, hell, unattractive, he was a big knarled ball of fat sweating testosterone.  Thought he was clever, funny even, but he wouldn't be laughing, I would, at his tears.  He even gave me the opportunity, got himself fired, and naively accepted to work Under me.

I won't bore you with work.  It pays, well, and gives me opportunities for play.  Just looking at him, smelling him, I was so glad I'd packed for that too.  I overstress the time facter, so he'll work harder, faster, and maybe we have more time to play.  It wouldn't take all weekend to Finish this.

The drywall contracter was a pussy.  Probably had a wife to wear the pants in the familly, both of them denying the truth of their relationship, even to themselves.  Boring, not my type, I like a little spine, fight in my men.  That made the victory that much sweeter.  Even now, he was only acting cowed, obaying, but cursing me, calling me "bitch" under his breath.

Doncha know, us helpless little girls are deaf, too.  We don't hear the maiting call of the North American Redneck, but just lower our head, blinders on, so it's easier for the ones with balls to ambush us from behind.  Fuck that, fuck them, till they bleed.  That's the only way they learn.

Anyway, while he worked on the boxes, I went out front, and grabbed a ladder I saw on the way in.  Checking the schematics, I took out my knife, and set up to start on the cans.  I caught him looking, up my skirt, and gave him The Look.  I didn't mind, really, I know how short it is, that's why I wear it.  In this heat, the black is too hot unless you pare it down a little, and I've found it helps to wear white cotton underneath.

He tore himself away, back to the little hole he was cutting, jerking his little saw in, and out, trying not to look.  Sighing, I pressed the template to the ceiling, and cut around it.  Just a circle of plywood, I tapped the slope to check for rafters first.  I finished the cut, and smiled, there was time for a performance.  

Stepping down with my tools, and the two 3" circles, I didn't hold on, but intentionally rocked the ladder.  "Whoah!" he grabbed at it, but missed, and I jumped to skillfully land on my feet.  "You alright?"

"Yeah," I dropped the laminate, and gypsum circles, and rubbed dust in my eye.  It teared up, and he ran to get a sports bottle full of water.  It was cold, and I blinked reflexively, wrincing out the lids.  The pain wasn't that bad, but his concern was touching.  Show him a little "vulnerability", keep his mind on It, Me, while he struggled to keep his eyes off, down.

I pulled off my jacket, a cool dirty white trickle from the pretty good amount of powder I'd smeared on trickling down my chest.  The "wife beater" already damp with sweat, I knew it would be transparent by the afternoon.  I didn't take the bottle, and squirt it all over me, moaning like a playboy carwash, but I could almost see the fantasy in his eyes.

"Get back to work," I pointed, and went to grab some boxes.  Again, work, boring.  Twisted pairs, color codes, the wires already jerked through holes in the studs before the sheets were put up.  Going to the first one he cut out, by the stairs, I tested the the cold wires, snipped them, screwed the box in to the stud, and wired up the outlet.

He was looking again, at me bent over, up to my wrists in the wall, pulling tools from my case.  "If you're not gonna work," you have to speak their language, "Then I don't need ya."  He got back to it, but I smiled as soon as he looked away.

Hot fucking bitch, probly a man hating dyke, but good got dam!  I mean slong as she kept her fucking mouth shut, her body said more than enough.  And if you don't want me looking, don't fucking look likat.  Her outfit was supposed to be all business, like, but cheap fabric, so she could work in it, I guess.  Sure didn't hide to much, though, specialy when she took off her jacket, and boing!

They ain't huge, or nothing, kinda small, and hard lookin, but not fake at all.  The wife beater, heh heh heh, just kept getting wetter and wetter, the hotter it got, and she kept spilling drywall dust down it whenever she was cutting out the cans.

An that skirt was so short, and her panties were plain white, quickly wetting with sweat.  Yeah, I bet, she was warming up to me.  I shifted my bags around, front to back so the front one hung between my legs to cut another hole.  It covered my hard on, whenever she wasn't lookin, and I could get a good shot to keep in the back of my head while I went back to work.  If I took snapshots, she never caught me.

I was sweatin too, by the time we took a break for lunch.  The other crew kept working through, to finish up, but she sighed, put down the tools, and said we could take an hour.  I went out to the van, and damn if she didn't follow me.  "Heading out, and coming back?" she asked.

"Yeah," she was slipping her jacket on, switching her bag from hand to hand.  Like somewhere between a purse, and a breifcase, it looked like one of those bags for a laptop, but she didn't have one.  I guess electricians don't need a lot of tools, and they ain't all big, and heavy, because they all fit.  The plans went back in their sonotube, leaned up next to the outlet at the bottom of the stairs, which the other crew was already plugging their extensions into.

"Where you headded?" she didn't button it, but covered all too much of her almost naked titties.

"Idaknow," I shrugged, lying, I was headed for that bridge I found to smoke under.

"Well I took a cab down," she threw her bag through the open passenger window, "so let me buy you lunch for the ride."

Yeah, I'd give her a ride, I didn't say as I walked around to my side, and got in.  "Sorry about the mess," she belted herself before she even closed the door.

"Ahh," she waves her hand, "It's construction, like the catcall this morning."

"You all right about that?" I was a little concerned, her being the bosslady and all.

"What the fuck?" she shrugs, "You're a construction worker, it's what you do."

"That's not all I do," I took my eyes off the road to look at her.

She had something in her lap, her bag, but in her hands was a little glass pipe, and about two fingers of nice, fresh looking bud.  "You don't mind if I smoke," she grinned, "Do ya?"

I laughed, relaxed a little.  Maybe she wasn't so much a bitch off hours.  "You just didn't look like a construction worker."

"I'm also a business woman," she shrugged, "So I have to dress the part.  Most of my clients don't even know I do the work, but I save 100% on labor."

"How much you paying me for this?" I wondered, then took the pipe.  It's a bitch to light, and drive, but it was still cherry, and I had enough of a straightaway to keep it lit.

She blows out, "I don't know how I'm paying you right now, but I ken make it up to you.  Slipping the bag down to her feet, she crosses her legs, the stretchy skirt slipping up over her strong looking thighs.  Don't get me wrong, she was skinny enough, through her jacket sleeves, you couldn't tell that her arms where like two long girders, wrapped in steel cable, and shrink wrapped over in skin.  I'd never even seen a woman that strong.

At first, I thought I was getting hard, but realised what I felt was my scro relaxing more than I have ever felt it before.  I thought my balls would roll out across the seat, dragging it with them if I didn't close my legs.  Breathing out, my lungs felt numb.  The smoke hung in front of me, and smelt like incense.  "What kind of weed is this?" I pulled over, to the two dirt tracks before the guardrail started.  

"Dragon's blood," it sure wasn't the seedy dry shit I got, a lumber pack in every bag.  Pulling to a stop, she held up the ziplock, barely an inch square with the most magical looking bud I ever seen.  It had red, not hairs, but powdery flecks on it, and in the crack in the bottom of the bag.  She leaned over, jacket falling open, and turned off the keys.

Oh, he didn't pass out.  Opium isn't that powerful, it wasn't that much of a hit, and he had plenty of body mass to soak it up.  I don't need to knock them out, that way, and besides, it's conterproductive.  I want him hard, not limp.

He just stared, blankly at my chest, so I unhooked my seatbelt, and pulled the pins in my hair.  Dull black, especially wavy from being Bound in this humidity, I waited for the "Duh" to escape his lips.  He's not stupid, but this is some pretty cebaceous cannibus, and I could tell he'd never done opiates before.  It felt delicious, the loud traffic receeding above, the heat retreating to warmth.

Licking my lips, I leaned back the seat to pull off my jacket, thrusting out my chest, and turning to see his idiotic grin.  The "I'm gonna get laid!" grin, doped to a caracature, it was time to snap him out of it.  I snapped the calloused ridge on the inside of my knuckles across his cheekbone.

"The fuck?" I could see immediately that it was going to bruise.  Giggling, I jumped in back, and turned before he could think to ball his fists, and come after me.  Dropping my bag at my feet, I pounced, low, catching him between the seats, and grabbing his shoulders.  Forcing him up, he jerked, hitting his head, but only hard enough to daze him.

I relaxed, dropped, pulling him down, and twisting to slam him over my hip to the bare sheet metal floor.  The van shook, rang with the sound, and he got a clumbsy swing in, bumping his mule fist into my hip.  I stayed close, so he could only take body shots.  His elbows kept hitting the floor, and the assorted tools, boards, whatever.  He could bruise my ribs, but not get enough of a swing to break them.

I got a palm strike to his solar plexus, but he winded me with shots to the ribs.  His punching stopped, his arms clutched reflexively to the sides, leaving his head open.  Both palms hammered down, like pile drivers into his big bald forehead, ramming him down onto the floor.  This time, I think I knocked him out, because he stopped fighting.  Slipping some cable ties from my bag, he groaned when I rolled him over, and I had to put him in a hammer lock to get his wrists together.

"Fuck ing," my head hurt, "BITCH!" she must've drugged me, or something, no way she could take me in my own Van if she didn't.  My head was clear, now, except the pain, the mother of all headakes.  "The FUCK!" something pulled tight with a zipping sound, cutting into my wrists.

"Go ahead, and scream," she whispered over the traffic, behind me, "They, can't, hear, you."  Her voice had changed.  I think I heard a little of it when she was chewing out Mike, but it was deeper, creepy.  Something heavy passed over, loudly, but was gone in less than a seccond.

"What the hell?" she rolled me over, and stepped over me.

"Shut the fuck up," she put her sneaker on my chest, and pushed, until I couldn't breathe.  I tried, but it hurt, so I jerked, and she had to let go, or fall over.  She caught herself, reaching back to the roof.  Her knees let go, and she dropped on my chest, slamming the breath out of me.  God it hurt, and I couldn't breathe again.  "Open your eyes." she ordered, and shone a light in.  "Good," she smiled, viciously.  Like a bitch, she pulled her teeth back to growl through them, "No concussion." she flashed back, and forth, then just tossed it aside.  "Let's get down to 'Business'."  She leans in, close sliding her skirt down to my legs.  "What's this?" so close I have to close my eyes.  She kisses them, licks them, then follows a tear down the top of my cheek.

"Get off me!" I buck, and nearly throw her off.  "What kind of sick bitch are you?"

She forces me down by the shoulders, and gets up, forcing a knee hard between my legs.  "That's right, baby" she grinds it in, "Keep crying."  I can't help the tears squeezing out between my scrunched eyes.  She undoes my buckle, wracking me whenever I try to move.  Standing up, she jerks my pants off, then puts her foot up, threatening to stomp me.  "That's right," I freeze, ready to jerk away if she strikes, "I don't want to break it."

She don't take nothing off, but gets back down, and starts cutting out my boxer shorts. "Awww," she pouts, "Init cute!"  I look down to see her work, with those bunt tipped shears they put in first aid kits.  She grins, evily, "Relax."  I force my head back down as I fell the edges, hooking under, closing just enough to pinch.  "Ahh!" I almost scream, "Please, don't."

"Tsk tsk tsk," she smiles, "You should have whiped better."  I struggle, but she grabs, and twists, diggin in her nails utill I scream.  It's choked off, muffled, and I gag.  I hope I don't puke, with it blocked like that, or choke on the ragged edge that feels like it's tickling down my throat.

"That's better, she tucks it away, and I hear something "Vvvvvip!" out of her nasty little bag.  I manage to glance down, but she's not looking.  She's got wire, not coated, and by the way it glitters, I think it's braided metal, or something  "Hold still."

It's cold, I can feel myself shrink back from it.  She loops it under, and crosses it, tight.  Id doesn't cut me, but I can feel the roughness, as she pulls it around, and tight on my softoff.  I start screaming again, but it doesn't get far.  Then I start gagging, choking on the filthy fabric, tasting it.  I try turning to the side, shaking it out of my throat, and cough spasticly, but she ignores me, keeps tying between my legs.

"Vvip!" she slides something tight, "You all right?" with an utter lack of concern.

My face is bulging now, and I jerk, nodding sideways.  She's right there, pulling it out, sweeping back to catch the shred, slipping off her finger, but she tries again and it pulls free.

"Ahh!" I bite her before she get's her finger out, and spit the soiled cloth at her face.  

"Ha, bitch!" I saw her pain, heard her cry out, at least once.

She laughs, puts her hand on my chest, and a little blood rolls off.  "Cute," she grins, "You know as much as you hurt me is going to come back when I tell them how you Raped me."

"What?" I understood, "No!"

"Of course not," she giggles, "but are they really going to beleive you?"  I shut my eyes, turn away from her wicked sneer.  "You sexually harrassed me in public this morning, within a minute of that other woman.  Of course you can tell your part of the story, admit to the cops how I lured you away, beat you up, tied you, and Raped you?"

"No," don't start crying again.

"Cause that's what I'm'gonna doO!" she was practicly singing, "I'm gonna rape yooU!"

Whoops, almost lost him.  What i get for improvising, stick to the plan, Girl.  Wouldn't do to let him die, even before I'm done with him.  He can't learn anything dead.

I'd ment to hold back the part about the rape too.  It's best if they never think that, the word, admit they were Raped.  Now he may never get hard.  "Awwe," I layed down next to him, "What's wrong, big boy?"  Press my breasts against his pudgy chest, and bicep.  "I thought you liked me."

"Fucking bitch," he managed to literally spit through his clenched teeth.  A mix of sweat, and snot, and tears, I could still taste them, the salty tang at the tip of my tongue.

"Patience," I licked my lips, "Guess I'm not your type," I felt down his sick hairy belly to where he was bound.  "To strong?" nope, still no growth.  I gripped it anyway, pressed it in enough to squeeze the head out against my wrist.  "To old?"

He closed his eyes again, squeezed out another tear.

"Yeah," I breathed in his ear, "You like them younger, weaker, more naïve', don't you?"  I've got perkey little breasts, to run against him, through the ribbed cotton, corrugating against my nipples.  "Blonde?" I lapped at his earlobe, the sweaty salty run of the last tear.  "Big blue eyes?" I fantasised for him breathlessly.  Pitching my voice up, removing any audible hint of thought, experience from it.

"There," I felt a little thickening in my palm, and fingers.  Turning it over, I rubbed circles on the spongey head with my thumb.  "A School girl" hushed whisper, throaty, secret, forbidden, "virgin!"  There we go, there was enough blood, and pressure, the constriction would do the rest.  

"Fucking Pervert." he couldn't stop the erection now if he wanted to.

"What?" he opened his eyes, "No! I,"  I curled two fingers, cocked on my thumb by the nails, and snapped them out, right into his scrotom pulled tight as the skin of a bubble.  "Owwe!"

Rolling on top of him, I kept my grip, and let go to pin it in his dark curly mange.  "Admit it," I grabbed his big belly," no seventeen year old cheerleader is gonna want this.  Slding forward, I gave it a good swat with my midriff, and thighs, sending it quivering.  "What are you, pushing fifty?"

"What do you want?" He clenched his eyes again, turned his head away.

"Why, nothing," I smiled, and leaned in to lap a drop from the side of his nose, "I'm just teaching you a little lesson."  He was hard as he was going to get, I could feel his pulse against me through the cotton panties.  

Sliding up over the bulge, "Look at me," I took his head, spread my knees around his shoulders.  Carefully framing his eyes between the gentle ridged saddle of my chest, I knew he could see my smile above it, right before my cunt came down over his mouth.

"Mmph!" I was already soaked, took him by what little hair was left on top of his head, and yanked him to me.  "Eat it!" I twisted, reached back to grip his bound package.  "I feel teeth, and I'll rip it off, all of it!"  Yeah, that was it, he was a lousy lay, I expected it, no idea what to do with a pussy if it bit him.  He was really crying now, sobbing through his nose, squirting snot out on my clean white cotton panties.

"Sick fucking pig," I rammed his head down.  "Look what you did!"  He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to turn away, twisting his hair in my fingers, but I wiped it off, smeared it on his cheek.  Rolling on the ring, I got up, stood on his chest to take them off, stuff them in his mouth.

I quickly ripped open a condom from my bag with my teeth.  I mean nothing, no diseases, no kids, it would be better for the world if he didn't breed.  I smiled, maybe I'd fix that, felt a drop of dew form, and fall from my little man, peeking out between my legs.  Can't depend on human nature keeping him away from the little girls, off of them, out of them.

Real fucking horny now, I unceremoniously sank onto him.  Felt every bulging vein ripple through me, even through the latex.  A neccisary evil, hopefully it would make him last longer.  I took a deep breath, and let it out, sinking him deeper, and clamping down.

"Ahh God!" I try to say through the cloth in my mouth, "Fucking bitch, WHY?!"  She didn't hear, me, her eyes closed, face tight with concentration.  God it hurt, like she would snap me off at the root, the bloody end hanging out of her, little hairs curling out, the white bone like an eye steak.

I could feel her butt lift off my legs, see the white cotton, see through with sweat, the white lines on her belly, like a six pack as she pulled up.  Still gripped tight, so horribly tight, I could feel the blood, pressure builting up, bulging out the head in her like a balloon snake.  It tingled, popped with pins and needles like it was going numb, to everthin but the pain.

I screamed again, knowing it would never be the same again.  If I ever got hard again, if I wanted too.  I'd never been this hard, said "so hard it hurts" so many times, no idea what that felt like.  "That's right," she sank down, relaxed, "You have no dick now," he smile was the most evil thing I ever seen, like the joker, even her eyebrows curled up at the ends, her eyes.  Like slits, I could still see the black in the center, the dark evil pits cut off to little biskit joint cookies.

I could feel her move again, though you couldn't see it inside.  No, her tummy rippled, the six pack sliding up, and dipping rythmicly like an adam's apple when you're drinking.  Inside, her muscles wrapped around me, gripped tight, and rolled up.  Like she was fucking me, sucking me, though her hips didn't move.  Her weight strained my bound wrists, cut the cable tye into them enough that I could feel it.  They must have fallen asleep, and I didn't notice, distracted by everthin else.

I seen another girl do that once, when she cummed.  I thought about her, so little and innocent looking.  She asked me to rape her, almost told me to, and got off on it.  I swear, it was concentual, she made me sign something, even, and gave me a word she'd say if she had to much.  She never did.

I could almost ignore her, close my eyes and imagine a pretty girl, not that fucking bitch.  Yeah, it was just like jacking off, or something likeat.  It was more like watching myself jack off, on TV, or in the mirror if'n I ever done that.  Of course not, I'm not gay, or nothin.

Anyway, I know what you're thinking.  She's right, jus because I lookat Barely Legal, and GGW I'm some kinda kiddie fucker.  Fuck no, girls just look better when they're young.  Before they get all saggy, and fat, and shit.  Everbody knows it, that bitch is just jealous because she lost it.

Why else would she be so into how she looks?  I could tell she spent all kinda time on her hair, hiding her muscles, like she was ashamed of them.  Of course, they ain't pretty, and everbody wants to feel sexy.  Yeah, that was it, hadta be.  She can't get a man no other way, she thinks she hates us, but really just can't stand that she needs the dick.

I smiled around her panties, jerked my hips to ram into her.  She wouldn't rape me.  I'll fuck her, that's what I'll do.  She opened her eyes, smiled, surprised.  "Yeah," she grinned, "Now you like it."  That's it, get off, get it over with, giver what she wants.  But no more tears.

That was more like it, he was starting to enjoy it.  Doesn't make it any less rape.  I couldn't stop then, though, the feeling of power, washing over me, boiling away my scalp, and hair, smoking, and bursting into flames.  Spreading up from my tummy, engulfing me.  Damn it was hot, but the sweat flash boiled away, clothes burned off and floated awy, through the hole burned through the sheet steel roof.

The Goddess, reborn, heat reflecting back from the walls, his thrusts into me.  I tore at his chest with my claws, for the heart, to feel it beat in my fingers before I blasted him away, annihilated for his arrogance.  His muffled cries, desperate humping, grunt as he went limp, and I fell back onto his lap.  I could feel him twitch under me, his eyes wide, shocked.  The fear in them.

"That's right," he glanced back down to my face, "I raped you, and you liked it."  I almost came again as his eyes slammed shut with an almost audible clap.  My fingers jumped, almost a reflexive twitch to catch his tears before they were wasted.  That's the only thing that quenches the fire.  

"Now," I got up, "If you're good the cops don't have to hear about this."   I wanted more, but he has to not know that.  Fixing my clothes, I left him bound, gagged with my underwear to drive back to the site.  The rearview adjusted down, I calmly watched him resourcefully find a pair of plyers, or snips to cut himself free.

"Fucking bitch," he spat out the gag, and gripped them menacingly.

"Even if you kill me," I couldn't look him in the eye in the mirror, "We both die."

"Yeah?" he lifted them, for the moment not carring, and I accellerated the van to match my pulse.

"And you might want to do something about that," his bound bloated genitals, "Before it falls off."

"Fuck!" he dropped to his knees, and franticly figured out how to undo the drawstring.  "AhhhhhHHH! You bitch!" as the circulation rushed back in.

"You say that like an insult," I laughed, "Fucking Bitch!" imitated him, "I like the way that sounds."  Slowing in the neighborhood, I saw the Cul de Sac at the end was empty of the construction trucks.  "Good, looks like we have the place to ourselves!"

"Tha fuck?" I turned around, and backed into the driveway.

"We've got a job to finish," I reminded him, "If we hurry, we can get it done tonight."

"I ain't working with you!" he growled.

"Or I can pay you for your time, and see if the police know any good punchout laborers." He looked up, still kneeling in the back, but I was turned around to see where I was backing, and stopped at the end of the Garage.  There's a side door there, and no side windows on the neighbor's house.

I just let my head fall, but my eyes open, didn't squeeze out any more tears.  I was beaten, broken, and I knew it, but I wasn't going to give her what she wanted, not after that last time.  My face burned, though.  It was so embarassing, humiliating.  I pulled up my shorts before I let her lead me out the back doors, and in through the garage.

She locked it after me, stayed behind me, never turned her back.  Be we would be working then, she'd have to let her guard down some time.  And then, watch out.  She wanted to play rape?  It's not my game, but I could learn, real quick.

I went to work, let her relax, just took it when she swatted my ass with those wires looped in her hand.  She stood over me, watching, ordering, but didn't hit me again.  Didn't have to the first time, though, she just did cause she could.

All right, patience.  I got up to move down to the next window, and she knelt down to wire it.  Her left leg, the one on this side as down, on the knee, while the right was up.  I ruched through the cutout, prescored half of it with the knife, and sawed the rest to snap it off, much less cleanup to get it trimmed.  I finished first, got up, hawked, and spat out the window.

That gave me an excuse to go get some water, while she scooted over to the window.  This time she knelt on the other knee, the right, again on my side.  Yeah, less protective, but better to turn into a shot upwards.  How did she take me down before?  It was a blur, pushing me up on the roof of the van, then twisting me, almost hitting me in the nuts with her hip, and letting my weight throw me, she basicly just got out of the way.

That leg trick won't work from straight behind, I nonchalantly walked over, and grabbed my tools from the sill.  She dropped something, flattened her hand with the seccond nuckles extended, it looked like a rattlesnake head of a fist.  I crossed behind her, keyhole saw in my right, and she swiveled somehow.  I jumped back, out of reach and she didn't uncock that rattlesnake strike she had tucked into her side.  She'd switched legs again, somehow in the swivel, and I missed it.

"You don't want to kill me," she grinned from the cement floor, and I remembered ho she liked to smash my head to knock me out.

I spread my hands, innocently, pulling the razorblade back into the knife.  "Of course not," I just bet she wouldn't fight so good with a saw blade at her throat, or face.

"Go get that other ladder," she chucked her head at the front door.  By the time I got back, she had her bag over her shoulder, the strap diagonal between her tits.  A bent metal box of some kind was sticking out of it.  I helped her brace it at the base of the wall, and she climbed up into the vault to put in the ceiling fan plate.  Turning around, she leaned against the upstairs wall, and pulled it out.  "Go ahead, and start the upstairs," she looked up to where she was going to mount it.

Before we sheeted it, you could pass tools, and stuff between the studs.  That ladder was how we got up there, before Mike put the stairs in.  Just two bedrooms, and a bath over the kitchen, and garage, the ceilings sloped down with that side of the roof.  A pretty quick punchout, I rushed through it, and toyed with the idea of jumping out the window at the end of the hall.

Instead, I took out my little hitter, and got a quick head-change.  I didn't want escape, any more than I wanted to kill her.  She had to come up for the wiring some time, and maybe I could Ambush her...

More boring work, but I have to admit, he did well.  The boxes were cut out clean, and at least as fast as I could mount, and wire the outlets.  I heard him working upstairs, the "Voopa" of the keyhole saw, then scraping of the knife audible through the wall behind be as I mounted, and hooked up the ceiling plate.  He moved to right behind me, and I didn't feel too comfortable with nothing but a couple sheets of gypsm board between his tools, and my kidneys.  Still, I had to wire it, so I climbed down for the coil, and tamped a bowl in my little glass spoon while I waited for him to move on.

Sure enough, he "accidently" punched through to this side, white dust sinking like sleet, right above the rag, and tape padded top of the ladder.  I climbed up, dragging the coil by one end on the rungs for it to unroll, and got out my knife.  A linoleum knife, I unfolded the blade, and cut out the hole.  Poking the end through, a good six inches to seperate the pairs, strip, and twist the ends into the circut.  I used round staples to tack it up the wall, and down the ceiling to the plate.  The slack just dangled to the floor. The fan wasn't here, so whoever could install it when it got to that part of the project.

Anyway, that finished the floor, so I set down my tools, and went up to check on him.  It was silent, too quiet so I got out my phone, and punched in 9-11 while I crept up the bare risers of the stairs.  I smelled grass, that Mexican dirt weed he smoked, and some of it hung in the light, spilling through the window at the end of the hall like a Ridley Scott movie.

Smiling, I went to the last bedroom, then froze as I felt the OSB floor give behind me.  "Hah," he almost whispered in my ear, and I felt the abrasive prickle of the keyhole saw blade at my throat, "Drop it."

[SEND] The linoleum knife hit the floor first as he turned me with a hand to my shoulder.  "What are you doing!?" I let the fear creep into my voice.

He laughed, "What do you think, bitch?"  The serrated blade slid up the side of my neck, to my cheek, and I had to close my eyes as he pressed me to the wall.

"Please," I acted it up, "Don't Rape me!"

He chuckled, "Like that would have stopped you, tell me it ever stopped you."

"No," I managed to turn away from his blade, but he held me, strong against the wall.  "It never did," I whispered, "For anyone."  Not the right opportunity.

His free hand ran down my back, almost making me shiver in disgust, but I told him I'd do this.  Just makes it that much more realistic when the cops show up.  Caressing my ass, the skirt pulled up on that side.  I'd left my underwear in his van, but his arm went around my neck, with the keyhole saw, locking my head up, forcing me against the wall with his belly.

I heard his belt buckle jingle, the strap slapped my thigh right before the tool belt hit the floor, and It, hard pressed against my ass.  "Is this what you wanted?" his dirty callused knuckles pressed between my legs, the thick spongey head against my lips.

"No," at least put on a rubber, "Please,"

"Or this," his fist slid back.

"Don't" he wriggled it around, like a bloated worm, "Stop!" and I screamed, for real, as he forced it into me like a disoriented turd.

His arm tightened around me, bicep flexing, cutting off some of the blood.  I thought he wouldn't kill me, but I always knew I'd die this way.  The fire died away, dwindled to a candle flame, and flickered in the rarefied air.  I got cold, dark inside, and goose flesh rippled out on my skin.  I tried to gasp, scream, then there was no me.  i retreated, shrank back, shriveled and atrophied to the scared little girl, crying in the corner.

The boys where there, laughing, and taunting, and pissing on me.  i was only dimly aware of my real body, the wet cotton clinging to me, skirt rolled to a bunch around my waste.  Inside, i was naked, scared, prepubescent and weak.  Inside i was crying, that was all that was left of me.  "Yesss," he hissed in my ear, "It Hurts," his voice rough, like the Kurghan's.

And i saw the fire, the light, but burning up from below.  i followed it, mistaking it for Her light, but it was HIS.  HE laughed, and i tried to scream, flee, but it was all around me, HE was the flame, surrounding me, engulfing me, burning me away to nothing.

I swere tagod, she got off on it!  I mean it, she gave right up, practicly passed out tho I didn't giver the full choke hold.  I knew something was up when goosebumps popped out, her chest heated up like she had a fire indere.  Her nipple got stiff, in my hand, up under her shirt, crushing her little titty like a peeled boiled egg.  And her ass was so tight, muscular, like I knowed it would be.

Her eyes clenched, and a dark tear leaked out, gave her a little sideburn, but it was bitter, and I spat it out, right in her face.

And hot damn I was hard!  Seccond hardest I ever been, but it didn't hurt, me.  "Yeah, bitch," I whispered in her ear, "It hurts," don't it?  She gasped, and I felt it, inside her.  That's when she came, her pussy squeezing next to me, pulsing her ass tighter, like she was tryin to milk me off.  It worked, I shot my load right up in her shit, and wished I had AIDS, or somethin to giver.

And then, I heard it, the one sound that could knock me down even if I didn't just bust a nut in her ass.  Sirens, I thought I could keep it up for once if it weren't for that.  "Bitch!" that's what she dropped, that wicked ripping claw of a knife, and her phone, screen still lit up, (911).

"Fuck!" I grabbed the back of her head, and rammed it through the fresh unpained drywall, "Fucking bitch!" stomped it, smashing the fragile electronics.  "Mother," where was sh... "Whugh!" that snakebite fist hit me right under the ribs, then I saw the top of her head right before my chin snapped up in her palm, fingers tucked up right in front of my lips.

I don't know what chopped into my throat, but it felt like a fucking hatchet, and allready trying to gasp, I gulped, and staggered back against the wall.  She popped up, and I managed to get my arms up to block her hands, cupped from smashing the sides of my head.  They flopped out, fingers flying limp as strands from the frayed end of a cable, and she yanked back, catching my wrists.  

Now, I used to wrestle, but they don't letcha do this.  I went with it, guessing she was going for a leg throw as she rolled on her back.  Kinda hard to do when my knee landed in the middle of her chest, and I rode her down to the floor.  That's when I heard the front door kicked in, and the door from the garage, under the stairs in the same seccond.

"Yaaah!" I looked down to see her hand, half in, and half out of my shorts, digging in her nails, and twisting.  That wicked grin, the Joker on her face right before she passed out, and her arm fell beside her.  "Freeze!"

{/end}

[Lois]

You added more to it since I last read it.  Excellent!  Love the character development using flashbacks.

Thnx, sweety.  RU the only one who reads my stories any more ?

This is probably a one-off, instead of a serial, though the perp is the type to keep going.  Story code notes: Veng is Vengance, or Revenge, as a motive.  Sade is for the Marquis de, or Sadism.   Phyx is for Asphyxia, or breath/ strangulation "play".  Asex means Asexual, or no actual sexual action.  I know, I have my own set, but it works, and I try to explicitly explain it.

Leonard (Drug, FemdoM, Asex)

"Yeah!" it was the little Chiquita, "Mamasita wan barrita?" I grabbed it in my pants to show her what I mean if she looked up.  She just jerked her kid's little arm, and hurried past to the Elementry school, "AND YOUR LITTLE DOG TOO!" I thought that was clever.  The Mexicans we had last week taught me Momacita, it really means Little Dog, or Little Bitch, cause it means a girl.

They was gone, though.  We don't need Manuel Labor for taping, and floating the walls, an all the other guys don't know spanglish.  I got a laugh, and kept loading my tape gun, waiting for Chiquita to come back.  Maybe without the kid she'd loosen up a little.  Hot little thing, I mean short, and stumpy, but with a decent pair, and hips you could hang a balcony off each side.  Her sweatpants rolled back, and forth behind her when she walked, like ta hypnatise me.

Anyway, I snapped it shut, and looked down, but it wasn't her.  "Damn!" now that's more like it.  Tall, hair up behind her, her long legs under the skirt, swinginging tight on this side of her ass with each step.  For a moment, I was speachless.  "Hey!" I yelled down to her, "I got some business for ya!"  she stopped, turned, then looked down at my pumping hands, right where her hips should be.

"Lenny," I turned to Mike, the foreman.

"Yeah?" I grinned, he don't always think it's funny, but hey, it's free speech.

"That's the new electrician."  he shook his head, and laughed.

"What?" I looked back, at her not quite suit, the sensible running shoes black to match it.  Sure enough, she switched the sonotube in her hands, and turned to walk through the gate, up into the site.  We was almost done with this job, a little late because of the framers pokin ass.

She came up the steps, shook hands with Mike, then smiled over at me.  "Mind your own business," she smiled, giggled at the joke, and my embarassment.  Up here, I could tell that it was just a jacket, and the skirt was, like, sweatshirt cloth.  Her legs up close looked weird, still long, and skinny, but so striped with muscle you couldn't see the bone, like cables.

My gun was loaded, so I took off to finish the tape, and float.  "Fuckin bitch," out of earshot, "Who does she think she is?"  If I hurried, I could wrap it up by lunch, and move on to the next job.  Still, there ain't that much left, so I set down the "banjo", and got the little wooden case from my toolbags.  Swivaling the lid, ecigs" popped out, and I poked it down into the cavity to load it.  "No need to save it for lunch," I lit it, and a real one to cover the smell.

"Goddamnit!" Mike come around the corner, and busts me.  Getting all pissy, "It's not even 10 o clock yet!"

I grab the Banjo, "No, put that down."  Drop it, "You harrass every lady that walks by, INCUDING the new contractor, who happens to be a personal freind of the OWNER,"

"Look," I start, "I..."

"Shut the fuck up!" he points out the open door frame, "And get the fuck off the site, I'll mail your fucking check just grab your shit, and get your ass out of here."

"Fine!" I grab the banjo, and put my other hand up to push him out of the way, but he steps back.

"Touch me and you'll spend the night in county."  The county hotel, fucking jail.  

"Mother fucker," he's lucky I didn't bring my deathstick up.  Fuck him, I finished the hit on my way down, and puffed on my cig while I packed another on the landing.

"Hey," she snaps her fingers a bunch of times, "You do punch out?"

"What?" the electrician, standing by a pile of outlet boxes, and light cans.

"I need to install all these, but now I only got a couple days."  yeah, not all prissy now, huh bitch?

"Sure," I looked around.  The lower floor, already taped, and floated, ready to paint.  "Where's it all go?"  Really open, it's basicly one big room, with the bathroom under the stairs, and the plumbing connections for the kitchen on the back wall.  Took the three of us a day, and a half to sheet, and finish it, didn't look like too much sparky to wire up.  Mike fired to many people, and risked getting fired for it, like our last electrician.

"Ken you read prints?" she had them out of the spiral wound cardboard tube.

"Sure," the electrical schematics mean nothing to me, but I could read the measurements.  Taking out a keyhole saw, and razor knife, I got to work on the outlet by the stairs.

"What're you doing?" mike stomped down.

"It's all right!" my new boss run over, "I need him, to finish the job on time."

"You hired him?" he made a fucked up face.

"Just for the weekend,"  she held up her hand, as if to block him from coming down the stairs.  I was standing up by then, not holding the knife, and saw out where he could see them.  "I have to be back monday."

"Where's your crew?" he looked around.

"Up in Tampa," she pushed him, back up the stairs with one hand, "And I don't have time to hire another crew."

"But" he got to the top, and lost his ballance, trying to take one more step.

"Keep working!" some hair pulled loose as she turned back to me, eyes feirce.

"Yes maam," I tried not to sas her, and went back down to finish the box cutout.  "Bitch."  I ain't going to bore you with cutout, the box is this size, so you need a little square hole right where the plan says.  So, I stick in the keyhole saw, and rough it out, about a quarter" in so I can whittle it smooth with the razor knife.  That's the plan, anyway, but cutting across the top, the saw stops, against wood before even the short roughcut is done.  "Fuck."  

"What is it?" She comes down, not stomping, or breathless, calm as can be voice.

"There's a stud," I wiggled the saw blade against it, "Shud I cut it out for the box, or move it over?"

"let me see," she squats down, knees together, and I get out of her way.  Wigling the saw, she taps my pencil marks with her fingertip, "This where it goes?"

"Yeah," I scratched my head, "I didn't frame this one."  16" on center, but not exactly, they must've started from the far wall, and over measured by a cunt hair each time.  After about 10' it came out to almost a half inch, looked like.

"Move it over," she got up, and dusted off her hands.

I shrug, and get back down to go to work.

So exciting..Well the entire thread is awesome and love reading it many a times..

So exciting..Well the entire thread is awesome and love reading it many a times..

Kinda proud of this one.  The character, Virginia Victoria Liggett.  (An alias, actually named after her brand of cigarette) is also one of my most popular.  Glad you liked it!