Author Topic: The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation  (Read 1810 times)

Offline SoftGameHunter

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The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation
« on: June 09, 2017, 01:11:11 AM »
I was watching Dirty Harry again the other day. One thought led to another, and this was the stillbirth that resulted.

WARNING!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non-consensual sex. This story is all fiction and no characters in it are meant to resemble any real person. That’s the legal part. Here’s the important part to me. This is fantasy, by the author, to be shared with readers who share in such fantasies. That is the story’s sole purpose for being here. In the real world, this sort of behavior is simply not acceptable, period, by any of the laws or morals of any humane people. That means you too. If you actually hurt someone without their informed consent, just stop. Take a deep breath and stop right now. That’s not your right. A surprising number of subs exist out there, so take the time to meet one and make your corner of the world a better place. Don’t trash two lives letting your frustrations get the better of you.

The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation

“Hurry up! Dig! Dig! She’s running out of air!” the inspector shouted as the two men with shovels frantically tossed dirt and rock away. It was loose, unsettled since the burial of the strongbox. But it went down, and down. Everyone else stood back. The paramedics, and the bomb squad. Each waiting for their order to approach.

A shovel hit metal. “We’re at her!” the man yelled, and they shoveled out the dirt ever faster, exposing the long coffin-like box. It was just three feet down. Soon they had it uncovered completely, and were staring at the smooth seams around the lid. The inspector jumped down and rapped on the lid.

“Police, Mary! We’re right outside the box!”

“Be careful on that! It could blow!” The inspector heard the captain’s words and shrugged them off. Mary Ellen Baker’s air was running out, and that was all there was to it. If she was still alive, she wouldn’t be for long.

“We’ve got no choice!” he said loudly and angrily, looking for just that right tone of authority. There was no objection, and he continued on. “Everyone back off! Nothing about this guy suggests the lid is rigged. If he’s got a bomb in there, it will be attached right to her bonds.”

“Are you willing to risk her life on that hunch?” the captain demanded.

“It’s no hunch, captain. It’s police work! It’s what I’m paid for!”

He jumped off of the lid, nearly hitting the boom microphone, but keeping cool. He laid down on the ground above the box to get a grip on it and lift. Everyone held their breath. And up the lid slid, smooth as silk.

He peered down in, being sure not to block the camera operator this time. There she was, wide eyed and panicky. Nude and bruised. Gagged. And with enough foil-wrapped explosives along her sides to blow them all to pieces. Something was beeping in there. “It’s alright, Mary. We’re the police!” He turned. “Bomb squad!” They were hurrying over when he spotted the note, taped to her thigh. “Hold it! Stay back!” He pulled the note off the trembling girl and read the writing out loud. “Inspector Morrison, glad you could find young Mary here. If you want her to live, pay attention, because I am watching you from a distance right now.”

Right away everyone on set turned, looking around for the kidnapper’s hiding place. “You won’t spot him,” Morrison said. He continued reading. “There’s exactly one wire, inspector, that you can pull and disarm everything. Cut anything else, and Mary goes naked before her God, while you go to hell. From the time you opened the lid, the countdown began, and you have four minutes to figure it out. Here is your first clue.”

“Oh dear lord!” the captain swore. “Everyone back. We’ll never make it.”

The camera focused in on Mary’s desperate, despondent face as she heard them talking. Her naked body shook with sobs.

“No! No! It’s a trick!” the inspector said. “Don’t you see? He’s called himself the Pie Killer in the tapes he sent, but what if…” He let his voice trail off dramatically. Then he reached down, counted the wires, and snipped the very middle one. At once the beeping stopped and everything powered down.

“She’s safe!” he announced. “Mary, you’re going to live! Cut her loose, boys.”

“How did you know?” the captain insisted while other cops got the naked girl free of the box.

“I remembered all the nerd jargon in his tapes, and thought back to my own math classes. What if he wasn’t the Pie, as in apple pie, Killer, but rather Pi, the number used in geometry class for circles and shit. Three point one four one five nine and so on.”

“So?” asked one of the other lieutenants.

“So, in our last four victims, the reports indicated that the wire that should have been cut was, in order, the third, first, fourth, and first. That suggests that the fifth wire would be the one here. And since there were only nine showing, the fifth would be the same no matter which side I started on!”

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!” the captain said.

Suddenly, coming up from behind them, Mary approached, fists still clenched but full of smiles, still totally nude, and gave Morrison a great big embrace. “Oh thank you, inspector Morrison. I don’t know what I’d do without you to protect me!”

“All part of the job, Mary,” he said, watching the boom mike drop almost into the shot. He didn’t want to have to do yet another take. “Now you go with the docs and get checked out.”

As the girl bounced away, he looked at her ass approvingly and then turned back to his colleagues. “Guys like the Pi Killer just don’t learn. Crime never pays!”

“Except for the three hundred thousand he’s already collected on past victims,” the captain said. “We’ve saved Mary, but that guy is still out there, on the streets. We don’t even know what he looks like.

“No, we don’t,” the inspector snarled, putting on his sunglasses. “And that’s what bothers me the most! We…”

“What? What is it, Morrison?”

“My god, how blind we all are!” he shouted. He turned to see the ambulance driving away with Mary in it. He raced towards it, and it suddenly accelerated forward. Morrison pulled out his Smith & Wesson Model 500 X-Frame and took aim. He fired, and even the kick from the blanks hurt his hand. The explosive in the ambulance went off on cue, blowing out a tire, and sending the vehicle up against the sand pile. The back doors popped open, revealing the driver, a bespectacled young man, holding his gun to Mary’s head while keeping an arm wrapped around her neck. The paramedics each lay in a pool of blood.

“Nobody move! I won’t be denied my reward!” he shouted. Mary was screaming. He groped one of her breasts for effect.

“Let her go, you scum!” Morrison snarled, striding towards them, aiming vaguely in their direction. The camera crews hurried to keep a close shot on her for the scene. “You can’t make it out alive!”

“Oh yes I can! And I’m taking the slut with me!” He rubbed his hand all over her breast. “Try anything, and she dies!”

“No one is killing me!” Mary screamed. “And you forgot your basic chemistry!”

“I never forget chemistry!” he roared. “What do you think I forgot?”

Her hands, until then clenched in fists, swung up towards their faces. She closed her eyes, and her handful of sand struck his own eyes. “Silicon dioxide plus corneas equals blindness!” she shouted. As he clutched his face, she broke free and jumped out. Morrison aimed and fired the next blank. The dye pack in the man’s shirt blew open on cue and he fell to the floor of the ambulance, rolling off into the sand on the ground.

The cops surrounded him, but he wasn’t moving. “Beach closed!” Morrison said.

“And cut!” yelled the director. “We’ve got it!”

“About time,” Clancy muttered. He liked playing Morrison, but working with Harris Beckworth as director was tiring.

“Whew, how about that?” Brenda said. “Sixteen takes. I need a shower.”

“I don’t think this dye is coming off me for a while,” Brett said, getting up and pulling his shirt open. “Mind if I join you, Brenda? I am your crazed stalker, after all.”

“Ha, very funny. I’ll see you guys in a bit,” she replied, striding off towards her trailer and its shower. She didn’t mind that half the crew was checking her out. She’d never signed a no nudity clause in her contract in her life for a good reason. She got up to the steps and climbed inside. She’d been naked pretty much all day, lying in sand and dirt and her own sweat. The forecast said it would be ninety-six out, and it felt like it.

She was standing under the almost cool water, rinsing off, when suddenly the bathroom door opened and the shower curtain opened. She gasped, seeing her co-star Brett there. “I said no, Brett,” she said. “Now shoo, shoo.”

“Come on, just one shower together. It will mean so much.”

“There’s no room. Now go, go away.”

“We’re both of slim build. We can fit in there.”

“Goodbye, Brett,” she said, more directly.

“But Mary, can’t you see what you mean to me?” he asked.

“Brenda, not Mary,” she said.

“Brenda’s nothing to me, Mary,” he said. “We could make such a good power couple in Hollywood.”

“Am I on Candid Camera, Brett. Get out, now! Go!” She stepped out of the shower and gave him a firm push out of the bathroom and then continued pushing him down the short hall to the trailer door. “And stay out,” she said, closing and locking it. She walked back over the wet carpet to continue her shower.

Suddenly, there was a huge crash behind her. She spun around to see the door fly inward, against its hinges, knocked clean off the frame by the large sledgehammer Brett was grasping in his white-knuckled hands. He stepped inside. She stood, mouth ajar, eyes wide.

“I, can’t believe that,” she said, shocked and with no playfulness left in her tone. “Are you insane?”

“I just want to talk, Mary!” he said.

“Say Brenda, Brett. Say my name. Look at me, say my real name, Brett.”

“Mary,” he said slowly with a wide grin. He still clutched the sledgehammer with both hands.

“Someone will come in and find you here!” she said.

“You wanted a trailer on the edge of the shoot, with the door facing away,” he said. “Mary.”

“Just, please go now,” she said.

“Some of that sand actually got in my eyes,” he said. “It was very painful. Very uncalled for, Mary. It was just a shoot.”

“It was just a shoot,” she agreed. “So please call me by my name.”

“I got to rape all those other girls,” he said. “The ones I buried alive and who didn’t get rescued.”

“Those actresses are all alive, and you didn’t rape any of them!” Brenda said.

“But I didn’t get to rape you.”

“Please put the hammer down!” she begged as he lifted it higher. She stepped back, trying to keep away. But it was a trailer, and had few options for movement.

“The Pi Killer always gets his prize!”

“You’re not…” she screamed as he slammed the hammer into the wall. “You’re not the Pi Killer!”

Suddenly he lunged at her, driving her back against the back wall of the trailer, pressing the handle of the large sledgehammer against her neck, leaning his weight into it. Brenda screamed clutching the handle, trying to push him off her. He brought his knee up into her belly, hard, and she fell in a heap to the floor, gasping, writhing nude and wet. When she rolled over to look up, he’d gotten undressed and had the hammer still in his clutches.

“Now hold still, Mary you slut!” he shouted, swinging the hammer. She rolled, and it hit the floor, but he swung again. She screamed, trying to roll away and kick his balls at the same time. Neither worked, and she took the full blow of the hammer on her chest, at the top of her left breast and ribs. Pain exploded through her chest.

He grabbed her arms and dragged her, agony ripping through the bruise on her chest, over to the little bed. She could hardly breath or move her left arm as he threw her down and climbed on top of her. He tossed the big hammer to the floor and used his fists, pummeling her face several times, bloodying her nose and mouth. “Mary!” he screamed. She felt his cock at her crotch. At her cunt. After being hit with a hammer, being raped was physically almost nothing, but yet there it was, the sickening feel of a creepy B-actor’s prick raping her.

“You forgot your evolutionary biology, Mary,” he grunted as he thrust into her. Oh god, she thought, was he improvising that cheesy script during his psychotic break? “Rape is how the strong male propagates his genes. It’s biological. We can’t fight science!”

“Stop!” she barely managed to groan, getting her breath back enough to speak. But he wasn’t stopping. He rammed her hard, hard, hard, smashing into her pelvis. That was going to bruise too. And after far less time than a film character would need, he came. She felt his hot, yucky filth filling her womb. He groaned and rolled over, off her.

Brenda lay beside him, gasping, sobbing, trying to stop the hurt. Her chest was radiating pain with each breath. Her ribs were surely busted on her left side.

“I need water,” she gasped, sliding off the bed and falling to the floor. He seemed inclined to let her. There was enough dirt on the floor that her wet body was now dirtier than before the shower. She slowly stood. If she held her left arm out just so, it hurt a bit less. She turned back to see Brett, half watching her, but mostly staring up at the ceiling.

“We’ll go away together, Mary,” he said. “Leave this phony baloney town behind us. Hollywood is where dreams go to die, anyway. What’s your dream? That’s what the man asked, right? What’s your dream? Was it to be a naked victim in some crappy movie franchise. What’s this, the eighth movie in the series, going straight to DVD and Blu-Ray? Is this what either of us should be doing with our careers, Mary? You’re a star grad student in Pine State’s Physical Science department. That guy should never have kidnapped you, Mary. But I’m smarter than that. I’ll take care of you, Mary.”

“Want to know what physics you forgot, Brett?” she asked.

“What?” he replied, lifting his head up to see the big hammer, firmly clutched in her good right arm and only lightly guided by her weak left. It was already moving.
The rumors about me are scurrilous, depraved rantings of a sick mind, and I categorically deny any sense of falsehood attributed to them.

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Re: The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation
« Reply #1 on: June 09, 2017, 04:51:11 AM »
What an imaginative tale.  Loved it!

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Re: The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation
« Reply #2 on: June 09, 2017, 11:13:40 AM »
Now that could be an actual Movie, Cable TV show plot!  Maybe we should cast each part and kick start a fund raiser to make it!

Offline SoftGameHunter

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Re: The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation
« Reply #3 on: June 09, 2017, 11:18:05 AM »
Given the popularity of shows like Bones, Numb3rs, and every CSI, you may be right. There's a market out there for nerd crime fighting.
The rumors about me are scurrilous, depraved rantings of a sick mind, and I categorically deny any sense of falsehood attributed to them.

Offline vile8r

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Re: The Pi Killer’s Bad Calculation
« Reply #4 on: June 09, 2017, 05:20:25 PM »
Cali it The PPC ( Pocket Protector Crimefighters)
I could rape your pussy, but I'd be in and out in a few minutes. So I choose to rape your mind, and I'll be inside you forever!