Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: A small-time criminal seeks revenge on Officer Georgia Jones after being busted by her. However, his ill-conceived plan to invade their home takes a terrible turn when her daughter catches him in the act.|
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, to be read only by individuals aged 18 or above. The events depicted herewith are fantasy and do not reflect real world events in any way.
Ricky didn't like to think that he was small time.
Not that he had much of a choice. Getting tagged with a nickname like “Sticky Ricky” meant that he usually got pushed around in lockup. The one time he tried to fight back, he got one of his front teeth knocked out. Whatever charisma he had before that was gone, which meant he would have an even tougher time climbing out of his shithole of a neighborhood. Dealing dope and pushing meth could only get you so far, and having a gap toothed smile made it harder to cozy up to the jailbait—the kind of girls he really liked.
He blamed Officer Jones for everything. A fucking beat cop.
He'd never forget the day the fat bitch ran him down and knocked him face first to the ground. He had just sold some dope to a couple of hot fifteen year old sluts in exchange for a quickie blowjob, when she rounded the corner into the alley where he was getting sucked. The girls were so hot that he was already on the verge of cumming, and when the bitch cop yelled, he blew—all over himself, because the girl sucking his dick pulled away and screamed.
That was how he earned his nickname.
After that episode, he seemed to get really famous around town, and not in a good way. It wasn't even his fault, but the bitches started avoiding him like the plague. He got so hard up that he even tried to rape one of them, but being not that big of a guy, she fought him off and laughed at him when she managed to kick him in the balls, crumpling him to the ground.
That was his final humiliation. He was sick and tired of the bullshit. He was going to show everybody that Ricky Freely wasn't someone you wanted to mess with.
It took him at least a month to work up the nerve to go through with his plan, though, and another before he found out where Officer Jones lived. His idea was simple: he would pay her a visit, beat the shit out of her, and maybe teach her that women should stick to desk jobs. He had one advantage: because of his ruined reputation, Officer Jones would never see him coming. Nobody thought Ricky would have it in him to stalk a cop to her own crib, let alone actually fuck her up. Nobody except a very pissed off Ricky.
He brought an aluminum bat with him. He wore gloves, too, because he wasn't stupid enough to leave his fingerprints all over her apartment, and also because his hands were sweating so much that he might lose his grip on the weapon.
Getting inside the apartment was the easy part. If there was something he was a good at, it was shit like B and E. Luckily, the building wasn't very big, and the names of the tenants, including their unit numbers, were printed conveniently on their mailboxes inside the front door. He had to smile when he saw that there was only one “Jones” living in that building. Maybe someone upstairs was looking out for him after all. Or maybe not—he didn't think what he was about to do was nice enough to be noticed upstairs. More like downstairs.
He had the whole thing planned. He was going to wait outside for her to come home, to make sure she wasn't bringing anyone home, then sneak into the building himself. Then he'd go all the way upstairs to the roof, climb down the fire escape, and get inside her apartment through the window. Then he would clobber the shit out of her with his baseball bat.
She came home that night in the early evening. Ricky's eyes were on fire when he watched her go inside. He had to smack his chickenshit legs with the bat to make them do as he wanted, but he got them to carry him up the steps of the apartment building a few minutes after Officer Jones disappeared inside. He jimmied the lock open and invited himself inside quietly, looking almost like he lived there, then proceeded to climb the stairs to the roof and back down the fire escape.
The light inside was on, and the window had been opened also. He knew he couldn't hang around on the fire escape for long, but he had managed to time it perfectly; he wasn't about to chalk anything up to luck, what with the kind he'd had recently. He waited until she had gone into the bathroom before climbing into the apartment.
His heart was thumping in his chest as he tiptoed up to the bathroom door. He positioned himself so that Officer Jones would have her back turned to him when she got out. When the toilet started flushing, his legs screamed at him to get the fuck out, go home, watch some porn and let off some steam that way, but his heart said Hell to the fuck NO.
And then it shouted FUCK YES when the bitch emerged; he went with it, swinging the bat over his head and smacking her right in the head. Her thick blonde hair jumped, and for a moment Ricky thought she would spin around, whip out a gun from somewhere and blow him away. He added another quick whack to the back of her head, but by then she had already begun to fall.
He didn't realize he was panting until he tried to whoop, and all that came out was a soft wheeze as he was out of breath. He kicked her twitching body to make sure she really was out, then cursed himself for being such a pussy. There he was, standing over the unconscious body of the cop who fucked his shit up, holding an aluminum bat when she was clearly unarmed, and he was still afraid? He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and took a moment to calm down, then grabbed the woman with both hands and started to drag her out of the cramped hallway and into the living room.
Officer Jones still had her handcuffs on her belt. Ricky decided that he would take no chances and cuffed her arms behind her back, slapping them on tight enough to dig the metal into her wrists. He did not plan on staying very long, but he also wanted to enjoy this as much as he could. The knowledge that he had the upper hand finally sank in, and he did what he had wanted to do for a long, long time: he wound his leg up and kicked the bitch hard in the stomach, enough to turn even her thick body over.
He gave her another kick to the ribs before he noticed that her blue shirt was wide open. She was off duty, but what the fuck kind of woman cop walked around with their shirt open like that? Sure, the pig was wearing a tank top underneath, but...God DAMN she was stacked, Ricky thought to himself. He tried to remind himself that he was there for business, but his dick was already rock hard. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't had any pussy in a while—and it was all this bitch's fault.
Ricky had never actually raped anyone before. He'd made his one failed attempt out of desperation, and he had not attempted it since. He knelt down next to Officer Jones and let himself grab a handful of those double Ds. A small voice in his head shouted that he didn't have any condoms with him, that leaving semen behind would put him in a world of hurt, but maybe if he could just pull out before he shot his load...
The apartment door swung wide open. “Mom! I'm home!”
Ricky's head snapped up even as he mouthed the word “FUCK.” He froze; he couldn't move. All he could do was watch as the red haired girl bumped the door shut with her hips and bounced into the apartment. Her eyes widened as she saw him on the ground with the woman—with his fingers still digging firmly into her breast.
“Who...who are you?” she stammered. “What are you doing to my mom?”
The girl seemed none too bright. She was also about twelve, thirteen at the most, so far as Ricky could tell. He wasn't expecting the bitch cop to be living with anybody. He realized that he hadn't thought this through very well at all, so intent was he on getting revenge on Officer Jones. No wonder he was such a fuckup.
He had to take control of the situation, fast. “Shut the fuck up and get the fuck over here,” he told the girl in a loud whisper. “If you scream, I'll bash your mom's fucking head in.”
The girl might have understood, but she didn't budge an inch, probably because she knew she was in trouble. Ricky had no choice but to run up, grab her by the arm and drag her further into the room. She screamed, but he threw his hand over her mouth just in time to muffle most of it.
“What are you, retarded?” he growled in her ear as she began to thrash. He saw that the kitchen was nearby, so he dragged the little brat with him and drew out one of the knives from the holder randomly. It was big, sharp and very clean, like it had never been used before. He waved it in front of her eyes.
“Listen, kid. I'm going to cut you AND your mom up if you don't stop this shit right now!”
If the knife was not being used to cut food, it worked just as well as a magic wand. The girl understood what it meant to be cut, at least. Ricky knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with these two if he couldn't get the girl to cooperate with him, and to keep himself from being surprised again, he had to find out who else was living in the apartment.
He let go of her mouth but kept his grip on her arm. “What's your name, ki—I mean, sweetheart?”
The girl's lips were quivering, and her dark, pretty eyes were glistening with tears. “Ce-ce-ce...m-my name is CeCe...”
“Good. Now, who else lives here with you and your mom?” Please don't say dad, Ricky prayed.
“Just...just my little brother, Flynn,” she admitted.
Fuck. “Where is he now?”
“He's sleeping over at a friend's. P-please don't hurt us, mister. I can...I can give you money.” The girl reached inside her vest carefully and pulled out a check. “I-I've got some hidden inside of Elvis, too.”
Ricky snatched the check from her hand and glanced at it. “What the fuck am I going to do with a check? And who's Elvis?”
“My teddy bear.”
Mother of FUCK. She was just a kid. Ricky started to feel all sorts of guilty when he decided to glance over at the unconscious woman. That made him feel all sorts of angry again. But his conscience was still alive and kicking; maybe he'll just take the kid's money, beat her mom some more and leave her feeling like shit about being responsible for her daughter being robbed. He looked closer at the check.
“A hundred bucks?” he said incredulously. “How the fuck does a—how old are you, twelve, thirteen?—how the hell does a kid like you come by this much money?” The payor was some production company whose name was unfamiliar to Ricky.
“I-I'm thirteen. I'm a backup dancer on Shake It Up Chicago.”
“No fucking way.” He'd watched the show a few times. There was this cute blonde dancer on it that he would have loved to fuck. It was starting to come back to him. He had seen this girl before. She was always paired up with a taller black girl. That one had some moves on her, but this one—CeCe, as she calls herself—was always a bit awkward.
By association, he found himself looking at the kid in a different light. He caught himself looking at her chest. There was a little bit of something there, but it could just as easily be a trick of the light or a crease in her shirt in the right place. No; she had worn something a little tighter on the show, once, and even though she wasn't anywhere near as developed as the blonde girl, he could swear he saw pokies. One or two of the older jailbait bitches he'd felt up was about this flat, but he was very curious about what a real pair of thirteen year old tits looked like.
Ricky licked his lips and gestured with his knife. “Lift up your shirt for me.”
CeCe couldn't believe her ears, retreating a step instinctively. “What? No!”
“Just do as I say. I'm not going to hurt you.” Ricky told himself he wouldn't.
He gave her a moment to decide; he wasn't really going to stab a thirteen year old girl. Fortunately, with his gap tooth and fucked up face and all, she thought he really would harm her. Her face dissolved into quiet sobs as she fumbled with the hem of her little graphic tee. Blushing in humiliation, she looked away and slowly pulled up her shirt, exposing her taut, clenching tummy and her chest. A pair of pale pink nipples sat on top of breasts that looked about as delicious as unbaked, bite sized cookies.
Somewhere, a voice demanded, "What the fuck are you doing, Ricky?" It was one thing to grope a fifteen year old slut after she'd offered to let you do it in exchange for weed, but this girl seemed on the up and up. He could see himself having a crush on her if he were her age. Ignoring his better judgment, he reached for the girl's chest and caught one of her little puff tarts between his thumb and fingers, squeezing it gently at first before digging harder into her tender flesh. He groaned, in that shameless, disgusting way that perverts did when they were alone; they were the firmest, softest breasts he had ever touched. He shrank his grip and pinched her nipple, feeling his cock jump as if his hand had been squeezing on it instead.
He licked his lips, panting through his mouth as his excitement mounted. He really was going to do it, Ricky realized. Raping a kid wasn't going to earn him any street cred—might even get his shit pushed in for it, probably—but that concern had been abandoned somewhere between making the girl show her tits and actually touching them. He was burning up on the inside and cold on the outside, the way he felt when he was perving it up on the L or getting a blowjob too close to a school.
Ricky hadn't forgotten Officer Jones; the bitch was still lying there, the big blue elephant in the room. He wanted at least a few shots on goal on this cute little redhead, and the cop could wake up at any moment. “Stay here,” he told the girl, before dashing off to the kitchen and rummaging for a dirty dish cloth, which he used to gag the woman. He went around yanking the cords out of the phones and used one to tie her legs together as well. The girl didn't try to run; she wasn't so dumb as to think that Ricky wouldn't hurt her mom if she escaped alone.
And that meant the poor thing was going to pay for what her mother had done to Ricky. He made her take her vest off, checked it for a cell phone, and crushed it under foot when he found one. His still had the knife in one hand, his trump card, and that made it hard for him to take his pants off, especially since they were bulging on the front. He decided he would make it fun and forced CeCe to help him pull down his zipper.
“Don't try to bite my balls or anything,” he threatened, “that shit only works in movies. It doesn't hurt nearly as much in real life.” He wasn't about to let her get wise on him. He didn't want to be this mean to her—a part of him really wanted to be on her side—but he was in enemy territory, and his conscience was only one self inflicted guilt trip away from slapping his shit for forcing himself on a thirteen year old girl. The chances of that happening dimmed when she finally managed to pull his zipper all the way down over his bulge, letting him step out of his jeans and shorts.
Ricky didn't have the biggest cock around the loop, but he had enough to fill two hands and still leave the head open. And it was definitely enough to make CeCe very frightened. Her arms retreated as soon as their task was done, but Ricky snatched one back and forced her to touch his cock. Her touch was cold as ice and her grip was tentative, but it made for a very pleasant combination, like she was teasing him inadvertently.
“C'mon, sweetheart,” he demanded in an urgent tone, as though he were speaking to one of his usual sluts. “You ever suck dick before? No? It's easy. Just hold on to it, like this—“ he had to pry her fingers open to force them around his shaft, “and push it back and forth, like this. You're a dancer, aren't you? This is simple shit compared to what you do every week.” He directed her to use her other hand. Perhaps he struck a nerve by appealing to her dancer's pride, but she started to stroke him with both hands despite wearing her sorriest look.
Ricky had never had to teach a girl to suck cock—every mouth he'd fucked before had a basic grasp of it—but as annoying as this was, the idea that he was treading on virgin ground made it a lot more exciting. "What are you waiting for? It's called a blowjob because you gotta BLOW on it." He reached for her head and pulled it into his crotch, thrusting his hips simultaneously to make it harder for her to dodge.
But CeCe acted as though she'd made up her mind about keeping Ricky's dick out of her mouth. Judging by the way her nose wrinkled and her throat gagged, his sweaty stench was not the least of what repulsed her; she had to be pissed, too, that he'd hurt her mom bad enough to put her out for so long. She winced as the tip of his cock slid across her lips and clenched teeth, throwing it off target. He tried it a few more times; it felt good to rub his cock against her warm, creamy cheek, but he wanted his dick sucked, not to make a porno.
His frustration culminated in a heavy backhand across her face, the blow cracking so sharply against her cheek that he felt bad about it immediately. Ricky knew what it was like to get his ass kicked by bigger kids; shit, he still got his ass handed to him from time to time. The kid had done nothing to deserve it. She had done almost everything he'd asked of her, and he sure as shit had put up the same kind of fight himself when an older kid tried to fuck his face back in Audy.
Ricky reached for the fallen girl to help her up. She was crying uncontrollably now, but he didn't think it would be a big deal; kids cried all the time. "Hey, uh, CeCe," he offered, "I didn't mean to—“
"Hey hey hey—!" a sing song voice serenaded him from behind.
Fucking HELL. "Keep your fucking mouth SHUT and get over here before I cut her throat!" Ricky shouted in a low voice as he yanked CeCe to her feet, laying the knife across her throat. Why the FUCK does he keep getting interrupted?
The girl who had climbed in through the window—it was the black girl from the dance show, he could tell at a glance—stood rooted in shock while one of her legs was still draped on the sill. The couch must have blocked her view while CeCe was down, or she might have been so used to climbing in uninvited that she just didn't bother to look. But, unlike CeCe, Ricky only had to reiterate his demand once before the black girl obeyed. Her hands flew to her mouth when she realized that he was half naked, and that Officer Jones had been bound and gagged.
Now all Ricky wanted was to forget this whole thing happened and get the hell out of there, but he knew that was no longer possible. His options had just about run out with this new turn of events. He had to take it one step at a time. “You,” he addressed the newcomer, “close the fucking window. Throw me your cell phone. Now go and turn on the stereo. Louder.” Being dancers, the two of them probably had music blaring in their apartment pretty often. He just needed some background noise to drown out any screams should the kids suddenly decide to call for help and force his hand before he was ready.
But even as Ricky was congratulating himself for being smart, he felt something squirm against his leg. He didn't know if it was coincidence or if the music had done something to help, but the fucking cop was starting to wake up. At least she was tied up and gagged, but who knew if seeing her awake might spur the kids into doing something to stop him?
He clenched his jaw and decided to man the fuck up. Abandoning CeCe for the time being, he stooped over the bitch cop and smacked her face a few times to speed up her recovery. It took a minute to slap the glaze out of her eyes, but when she started to glare at him venomously, he knew she was fully alert.
“Hello, Officer Jones,” he spat at her coldly, pressing the knife against her throat and shooting a warning glance at the girls. “Remember me? I bet you don't. I bet you lock away perps like me all the time.
“I want you to know that it's just me and the two girls in the apartment, and I'm the only one with a weapon.” He gestured at his crotch. “I might be small time in your eyes, but you see this? Yeah, I'm ready to do some sick shit if you don't cooperate. So don't think I'm bullshitting when I say I'm going to cut your little girl up if you don't listen to every word I say.
“Now, I'm going to remove your gag, and what I want to hear from your mouth are these exact words: 'Do everything the nice man says.' Do you understand?”
The cop nodded. Ricky pulled the dish cloth from her mouth and waited for her to speak. “Girls, do...do everything the...n-nice man says,” she said in a weak voice, but the looks she gave the girls were sincere enough. Instead of cussing out Ricky, however, Officer Jones looked toward him imploringly. “Please, I'm b-begging you, don't hurt the girls. Do whatever you want with me, just leave them alone. You aren't the kind—“
Ricky put an end to that speech by delivering a harsh kick to her stomach, choking her off with a fit of coughing. “Don't fucking tell me what I can and can't do, you fucking BITCH!” He waved his knife at the terrified CeCe, who was crying on her friend's shoulder as they hugged each other. “CeCe, what's your mom's name?”
The redhead was sobbing too hard to answer, so her friend did. “Her name's Georgia, sir.”
Ricky nodded. “And what's your name?”
“Rocky. My name's Rocky.”
“That's cool. Kind of like my name, Ricky.” It didn't matter if they knew his name, now, considering the cop knew exactly who he was. “Now, Georgia, I just want you to know that YOU are the one responsible for everything that's happened and going to happen tonight. I've had to take a lot of bullshit since you busted me, and really, all I wanted to do was teach you a lesson, but just looking at you makes me want to do way, way worse.”
Ricky felt as though he were watching another version of himself act out some ridiculous revenge fantasy. He was the one barely keeping the guilt at bay, while Ricky—horny, perverted Ricky—was putting the dish cloth back into Georgia's mouth and grinning insidiously toward the girls. Evil Ricky reached into the bitch cop's shirt and started groping her, saying, “Girls, I'm going to give you one chance to save Georgia. You're both going to dance to the music and do a strip tease for me. And remember, you're supposed to do everything I say.”
Both Rocky and CeCe were crying openly now, looking desperately toward Georgia Jones, who could only look back helplessly as she was being sexually assaulted herself. The girls knew they had no choice; with a great deal of effort they managed to extricate themselves from each other's embrace and stand apart. Neither of them had any idea how to begin, but at least there was some music for them to follow. Sobbing together, they searched their terrified selves for what could pass for a rhythm. Rocky, being more of an outsider, engaged a familiar routine more easily than CeCe, who looked more like she was drowning than dancing.
But Ricky was not really looking for a professional strip tease from these girls. He wanted to humiliate Georgia, first and foremost, and watching these young, teenage bodies sway their hips for him was a kick in itself. What he did want was some relief for his aching cock, which had sprung back to life after he'd put the situation back under control. He ripped the woman's shirt wide open, pulled up her tank top, and cut her bra loose at the front. She trembled in rage and shame as Ricky fondled her fat, naked tits right in front of her daughter and her friend.
He started working on her belt and pants as he shouted at the girls to make some progress with their juvenile strip tease. “Enough with that shit. It's not called a strip tease for nothing. Start peeling some clothes off before I cut them off.”
Rocky was fortunate to be wearing a jacket on top of two more layers of clothes, but all CeCe had left were her t-shirt, her pants and her boots. Her anguish was plain to see even as she stared at the floor; with shaking limbs, she pulled her shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor. She barely moved to the music as she covered herself with both arms, but before Ricky could give her hell for it, she began to dance of her own accord, knowing her mother would suffer if she didn't please him. Her arms slowly peeled away, revealing her flat chest once more.
“Oh, FUCK yeah.” A thirteen year old girl was dancing half naked in front of him, with another soon to follow. It was almost too much for him. Georgia had been stripped down to her panties, but Ricky had to reach down and pump himself a few times to appease his raging hard on. He spat into his hand, rolled down her underwear and wedged his cock between her thighs, preparing to enter the bitch's dry cunt.
“And you, Rocky,” he barked, “just because your name sounds like mine doesn't mean you get let off easy. Are you just going to stand there with all of your clothes on while your BFF—“ that was his own conjecture, but he knew he'd hit the right nerve when the taller girl shuddered at the acronym, “does all the work?”
She bit her lower lip and glared at Ricky, but that was as far as she dared to go. He could tell that she was the more mature of the two by the way she behaved, but by that same measure she was also a lot less eager to take her clothes off. He found himself enjoying that a lot. If CeCe was the kind of girl he'd have crushed on at their age, then Rocky was the type he'd have despised: well behaved, precocious, a teacher's pet. He would enjoy watching her squirm.
Rocky was down to her last t-shirt when she decided to change up her routine. Slowly, she pirouetted several times until settling with her back to the living room. She seemed determined to hide her breasts from Ricky's view as long as she could, and despite being denied a view of her chest as she lifted off her last shirt, he was afforded the sight of her incredible ass instead. Her panty line was visible under her tight pants, and neither article of clothing did a very good job of hiding the teardrop shape of her teenaged butt.
Ricky whistled. He considered CeCe to be the prettier of the two, but fuck him if Rocky didn't have the sexier body. That was all the encouragement he needed to stick his cock into Georgia's cunt at last.
She shuddered; he groaned. She thrashed against him, but he held her tight. Somehow he managed to tear his eyes away from Rocky's ass and look toward CeCe as he started to rape her mother, but the girl wasn't paying attention. She had become withdrawn, retreating from the reality of what was happening in her home, where she was supposed to be the safest. Ricky knew this because part of him had withdrawn, too—the part that ran screaming when it realized what else was coming. Maybe that Ricky and that CeCe could go out one day, but right now, Ricky was raping CeCe's mom, and CeCe had stuck her thumbs into the waistband of her pants and started to push them down. His cock flexed involuntarily inside Georgia's warm cunt as he caught sight of her panties.
Turned on as he was, Ricky never had any intention of finishing inside her. Georgia's cunt was just the fluffer. On any other occasion, she would have been a great lay. Tonight, however, Ricky had two baby pornstars waiting for him. Barely adolescent. There already had been some jerking, some teasing, and some penetration. It was time to cross another item off the porn checklist. He didn't come here to make a porno, but with three pussies to his one cock, he would be derided in spirit by bros all around the world for not making it happen.
He waited until CeCe had stepped out of her boots and her pants. The girl was skinny as a stick, but her training had given her the sort of definition that Ricky didn't usually see. “That's enough dancing for now, girls,” he said. He stopped fucking Georgia as he spoke, making a show of lubing up his cock with spit again. “Now, I know you girls are old enough to have thought about this before, and it's not like either of you are puke ugly, so this shouldn't be too bad. I want you to make out with each other.”
They gave him incredulous looks, and Rocky even began to shake her head, but Ricky would have none of it. “DO IT,” he shouted. He was getting irritated by their constant dawdling. Maybe a bit of blood would go a long way to grease the gears. He summoned the rage he felt for the woman whom he was raping and drew the sharp edge of his knife across her collar, leaving a glistening red trail behind. Georgia screamed into her gag.
“Nooo!” CeCe wailed in response, beating at her own chest and stomping her feet in a fit of hysteria. “Please don't hurt my mom, please! I'll do it, I'll do anything you say.” She spun toward her friend and pulled on her arms, lunging at the taller girl in an attempt to kiss her. “Please, Rocky...if we don't do this, he'll hurt my mom. He'll hurt both of us...” Rocky ducked, pouted and frowned, but she knew there was no avoiding it. Still as a statue, she closed her eyes and waited; CeCe stood on her tip toes, craned her neck, and mustered every inch of height she possessed to plant her puckered lips on her best friend's mouth.
Ricky couldn't help but grin. The redhead was so convinced that he was going to hurt her mom that she was now starting to do his work for him. He felt the need to gloat. Twisting Georgia's head around by her hair, he stared into the woman's wet eyes and spat in her face. “You see that, Officer? This is what you get for messing with me. I'm sure you can guess what else I'm going to make them do.” Chuckling, he ripped into the woman's cunt again, reveling in the fact that it was still dry. She tried to suppress her scream—likely she had figured out that the more distress she showed, the more easily he could use her to manipulate the girls—but she was just a fucking whore and Ricky was the man. “I'm going to blow my load inside you and knock you up with a rape baby,” he insinuated theatrically, twisting one of her nipples and fucking her violently. It worked; Georgia broke her silence with a long and continuous sob.
The girls had heard the noise evidently, because when Ricky looked at them again, they were kissing each other with open mouths and touching each other with both hands. Their faces were beet red—the black girl's skin was light enough to tell—and their motions were awkward, but still it was the hottest thing Ricky had ever seen. Sure, he was just as turned on as any other red blooded guy by the sight of girls making out, but two inexperienced teen girls lezzing it up was something special altogether.
Rocky still had her bra on, but as the girls moved closer to each other, CeCe reached around her friend's back and unhooked the clasp. The taller girl jerked back and tried to hold up the straps, but her protests waned quickly under her friend's persistence, leaving her completely topless. She was more Rihanna than Beyoncé, but her chest development was far more pronounced than that of the redhead's, being about the size of grapefruits. What really made Ricky salivate was the way her nipples swooped upward, making her tits look as though they defied gravity. Their chocolate color, fading smoothly into that warm, mocha tone of her skin, made for a palatable contrast with CeCe's cooler complexion as the girls pressed together.
Ricky could have watched them go at it forever, but he didn't have all night. He barked at the girls to get their attention. "CeCe, help Rocky with her pants. It's not fair that she's still got them on when you've been standing there in your panties for a while." Contrary to Ricky's fantasies of two reluctant girls growing more eager to make out with each other as they get used to it, the shame on their faces only intensified as they were pushed deeper into depravity. They were clearly best friends with each other, but he couldn't help but detect a growing resentment between them. He thought CeCe might have blamed Rocky for climbing into the apartment without looking first; Rocky, perhaps, blamed the Joneses for putting her in this situation.
After a fit of uncomfortable squirming, Rocky finally stood still long enough for CeCe to strip her naked. For her part, CeCe shed her own panties to spare her friend the indignity of reciprocating, a gesture to affirm that she still cared immensely for Rocky. Eminently aware of what was coming next, they clung to each other's hands and shivered.
Ricky let them stew in fear for a moment, admiring the way their nipples hardened as their bodies tried to adjust to their lack of clothing. They were only a beckon away from being between his fingers, but already his eyes had shifted their focus.
"Sh-it, Georgia," he sighed into the woman's ear as he forced her to look at the girls. "Look. At. Those. Cunts. Just look! Fuck me. Girls, turn towards me and stand with your legs apart. Move your fucking hands." Ricky muttered appreciatively as much for his own benefit as that of Georgia's, taunting her with the knowledge that he was leering at her little girl's naked pussy.
The girls bowed their heads in shame, hiding behind their tumbling hair as they picked at their curls nervously. It was one thing to be naked in each other's presence, but Ricky was the boogeyman they'd been warned about all their young lives, and their only guardian was helpless to protect them. Both of them had begun to grow hair on their mounds—Rocky's was slightly richer, but neither had enough to warrant trimming yet—and they both looked tight enough to deny so much as a pinky finger. Ricky wanted to pound the fuck out of them.
But even the freshest clams had to be cooked to be tasted, and he had just the recipe. "Rocky, grab a pillow and get on your back." The girl scurried forward, retrieved a mismatched pillow from the couch and laid down on the ground. "Good, now put the fucking pillow under your back. CeCe, climb on top of Rocky. No—God damn it!—the other way around, with your face between her legs. There you go.
"Now girls, when I say 'go,' I want the both of you to start licking each other's pussies. The one who does the shittiest job in my opinion will get a nice, big knife shoved up their cunt. GO!"
Ricky smirked as the girls dived into their friend's respective crotches, licking furiously from the get go in an effort to outdo the other. He had other things in mind—namely his cock—with which to shove into their cunts, but he'd shown the girls that he was not afraid to use his knife to draw blood. Judging by the way they'd burst into tears again, he had succeeded in trapping the girls between their fear of being eviscerated and their revulsion for what they were forced to do. It fed into Ricky's power trip, made him feel even more godly, inhuman. It made Ricky forget that he used to have to bargain for pussy, and Ricky was fucking loving it.
The girls were really going at it, too. They were attacking each other with their mouths, making up for their inexperience with effort. Ricky was about to instruct CeCe to pull back her bouncing hair and give him a better view when the redhead yelped in pain.
"Oww!" she cried, lamenting the way Rocky was grabbing onto her legs and limiting her range of motion. Under pain of a horrible death, Rocky appeared to be playing to win at the expense of her BFF. No matter how hard CeCe squirmed, her taller friend would not let her escape, and the redhead's young, tender mound was becoming sore to the merest touch. On the other hand, Rocky's stronger legs allowed her to clamp down on CeCe's head, keeping the smaller girl's mouth at bay despite her attempts to pry apart those chocolate earmuffs.
The little redhead broke into desperate, panicked sobs. “Plee-ee-ease, Rocky—! You're...my best friend...” She had no choice but to appeal to their friendship, and it bought her a small reprieve as Rocky's legs fell open briefly, but it was clear that she would never win the upper hand again. It was too much for Ricky; he'd turned the girls against each other, destroyed what must have been a beautiful friendship. He had turned Rocky and CeCe, two wholesome, thirteen year old girls into rapists. He bucked viciously against Georgia's cunt and exploded inside her, snarling as he let loose a load that had been pent up inside him.
The orgasm should have sated him. It usually did—well, that and a smoke right after. He had raped and possibly impregnated the bitch who had ruined his reputation, winning a measure of revenge against her. Even his conscience tried to take advantage of this refractory window, hoping to shock him back to his senses. “You're done, Ricky,” it said, almost in a congratulatory tone, “you got what you wanted, but now it's over. At least let the kids keep what's left of their dignity. They've done nothing to you.” But those were dangerous words. He was in a fucked up mood, and words like “kids,” and “dignity” were turning him on. He had a pair of hot young girls fighting to lick each other's pussy in front of him. That thought alone made his cock throb.
Georgia had gone still. Ricky could feel her pulse, but it seemed that she had passed out from the sheer stress of her ordeal. The blows to the head must have done their part, too. Shrugging, he slipped his cock out of her and abandoned her unconscious body. He glanced at the girls to make sure they hadn't killed each other yet, then, feeling thirsty, he paid the fridge a visit, found milk, poured himself a tall glass, drained it, then poured himself another. Rehydrated, he proceeded to crash Rocky and CeCe's party, bringing his beverage with him.
The girls had not been reduced to clawing each other's eyes out yet. Ricky was of two minds about that; it would have been interesting to see them beat each other to death to avoid the fate of being impaled by a knife, but it also would have robbed him of further opportunities to play with his toys. Setting the glass of milk down on a nearby table, he seized the girls by their hair and dragged them apart.
"Play nice, girls," he admonished. CeCe kept her head down as she trembled violently, paralyzed by what she thought was coming; she shuddered, but did little else to interfere when he reached down to grope her chest and crotch. Rocky shot peripheral looks of hate and fear at him, ashamed that she had been forced to hurt her friend; she squealed and kicked when he fondled her. That was fine with Ricky. She wasn't going to be able to duck forever.
"You both did a good job. CeCe, you tried your best, so even though you get an F for results, you deserve an A for effort. Rocky, you're an A-plus carpet muncher, but your teamwork was shit. You could have let CeCe have an equal chance. For that, you get an F."
Rocky's eyes bulged as she realized that she had been deemed the loser of the contest, but before she could plead her case, Ricky added, "Don't worry, I won't garburate anyone's cunt just yet. I just wanted to see if the two of you really were best friends forever." It might not hurt as much as a knife in the privates, but he had twisted the emotional dagger hard enough to make Rocky cover her mouth and retch.
Ricky had an idea. "Looks like I'm going to have to remind you girls what it's like to be besties," he said, gathering what he had left of the phone cords. He pulled the girls together and commanded them to clasp each other's hands, which he managed to bind together with minimal resistance. Tying their ankles together was a bigger hassle, however; they knew that being trussed up like this meant something awful was going to happen.
The girls were bound face to face. As Ricky slid behind Rocky and began to dance his knife over her skin, she felt she had to make amends for what she'd done earlier.
"I-I'm really, really sorry, CeCe," she blurted contritely, whimpering as Ricky wedged both his bare hand and his knife between her thighs, forcing her to spread them to avoid being cut. She fought her chattering teeth and the disgust of feeling her violator's fingers probing her defenseless slit, adding, "I didn't...mean to be selfish."
CeCe was quick to forgive her friend, knowing she might never have another chance again. "I'm sorry too, Rocky," she offered. "Please please please don't hurt Rocky, mister!" Her plea stalled behind a fierce grimace, her lips trembling as though she were struggling with a grim decision. Ricky prompted her to speak by jamming a finger inside her friend's cunt and eliciting a scream. "Noooo! Stab me instead! Hurt...hurt me instead..."
"Aww, that's sweet." Ricky laughed. Would anyone stick up for him like that? Fuck no. His so called bros would sooner fuck him in the ass than take a bullet for him. Which was why CeCe's heroism only made him want to hurt them more. "I knew there was a reason I liked you better. I've already made up my mind, though, and Rocky's gonna get it first.
"But don't worry," he added quickly; his cock was demanding to be satisfied. "You're lucky I don't take sloppy seconds from a knife." With everyone tied up, he had no use for the weapon, at least for the time being. He laid it aside and wrapped his arms around Rocky, shoving his hands between her legs. Strong as they were, she was no match for a grown man's strength.
Still, when Rocky felt his cock pushing against her labia, she began to scream so loud that Ricky had to extract one hand and slap it over her mouth. It made entering her more difficult, especially because she was so young and tight, but his cock had grown hard enough to pierce a cinder block. He stubbornly refused to threaten her with the knife. He wanted her to fight, wanted her to scream, wanted her to let him know how fucking much she HATED every second of it.
He finally found purchase after a bit of struggling. It was like fitting his cock through the ring on a condom, only to find that the rest of it was being held in a clenched fist. Even so, a fist could be closed only for so long, and Ricky was sparing his young victim no amount of pain. He grunted with the effort of each thrust, gaining more ground with every barrage, feeling that taut, virgin pussy yield reluctantly—
—until it just couldn't deny Ricky's cock any longer.
Rocky screamed against his hand. It was a long, heart wrenching wail, punctuated at intervals by her choking sobs. Having her hymen ripped apart so viciously, without so much as some spit on Ricky's cock to grease him through, must have hurt just as much as being skewered by a knife. Shit, even Ricky felt a bit chafed, and barely half of his cock was inside her.
He was far from satisfied with that level of progress, of course. He had been going balls deep into Georgia, and the rest of his cock longed to feel some cunt around it again. He knew it wouldn't be possible with Rocky so soon, but he began to fuck her with every intention of bottoming the fuck out. The blood from her torn hymen was of little help.
He liked to think that Rocky was a romantic; girls like her usually were. He could hear her dreams fading with each burst of tears, escaping the lofty cloud in which her head had been buried, flowing over his hand amid ropes of snot. No longer needing to hold her legs open, he began to maul at her tits instead, kneading and yanking on her firm young breasts with savage abandon.
Poor Rocky was breathing raggedly; she might have suffered a heart attack if she were any less fit, so painful was the merciless ripping and tearing of her tender vaginal walls. She was twisting her body so hard that even CeCe was hurting from the chafing of the tight phone cables. The redhead must have known that she would be next, but still she tried to comfort her best friend.
"Rocky! Rocky, listen to me." CeCe was finding it nearly impossible to get through to her friend, who could only respond with violent shakes of her head. "You...you need to relax. It's just like...like when you cramp up when you dance. It'll just hurt more if you fight it."
Ricky had fought his way deep enough inside the girl's cunt to fuck her steadily now, though he let himself slip out every now and then just so he could ram his cock back inside again. "Remember that when I fuck you next, sweetheart," he chuckled.
"F-fuck you," CeCe retorted.
That didn't go over well with Ricky. He knew what she was trying to do, and he was going to show her the futility of trying to manipulate him.
"I'll get to you in a minute, you little bitch. I just want you to know you just fucked over your bestie." Ricky pulled out and aimed a little higher. He flashed CeCe a sinister grin over Rocky's shoulder, loosening his grip over her mouth so that the redhead could hear her scream.
"No!" Rocky begged frantically as impending doom nudged against her anus. "NO! PLEASE NOOOO—AAAIIIIEEEE—!"
CeCe could only hang her head and sob dejectedly as Rocky's blood curdling scream rang briefly in her ears. It was louder than Ricky liked, but this time he reached for the girl's panties and gagged her with them instead of using his own hand. Her voice had gone hoarse anyway, but he wanted to reach further and cling to CeCe while he sodomized Rocky. He wanted the other girl to feel her friend's agony, to experience every spasm of pain ripping her friend apart. He pulled CeCe into Rocky's personal hell as he tore the taller girl's asshole to bloody ribbons.
And it was HELL on Rocky, from what her rapist could tell. Caught between Ricky's unrelenting thrusts and her own body's implacable impulses, she would go slack and shudder back to life repeatedly like a stalling engine. On a delicate thing like Rocky, anal penetration would have made her beg for mercy even if it were attempted by the gentlest of lovers, and Ricky was practically throwing every ounce of his weight into each stroke. His was hate fucking the shit out of her ass, and the involuntary clenching of her sphincter around his cock only made it better. If by some miracle she could ignore the damage done to her rectum when he was done, she'd probably still beg to be pumped full of morphine to numb her bruised and possibly broken pelvis.
But with the fight completely fucked out of Rocky, it was time for Ricky to play with his other, perhaps livelier toy.
He slapped Rocky's ass cheeks hard with both hands, jerked his hips backward and yanked his cock out of her asshole. To Ricky, it felt like someone had just scratched his cock with their fingernails; to Rocky, it must have felt more like a multi pronged fish hook had been violently dislodged from her rectum. Sensing or hoping that he was done with her, she retched weakly and tried as best she could to curl up in a fetal position while still tied to CeCe's wrists and ankles.
The price paid by her best friend for her own mouthiness obviously had taught CeCe a lesson, because she uttered a string of apologies when Ricky knelt over her and began to fondle her.
“P-p-please d-don't hurt m-me,” she stammered, “I'm only th-th-th-thirt-teen...” As if Ricky gave a fuck. As if that didn't just make Ricky hornier.
“What, you don't want to 'fuck me' anymore?” Ricky chuckled into her ear as he brushed at her curls.
“I'm s-s-scared...p-please don't r-rape me...”
“Pfft, baby, I'm going to rape the FUCK out of you.” Ricky pressed her scream button by poking his finger between her legs. “But, you know what? I kind of like you. I'll give you a choice: which hole do you want me to break in first?” His hand moved between her cunt and her asshole, giving each a solid poke in turn.
CeCe only shook her head and repeated her plea, so Ricky gave her some incentive to make her decision quickly. “I think I'll start with your ass,” he stated, his hand roaming across her hips, her ass and her thighs. “It's not as round as Rocky's, but it looks so small, and you've got such nice, skinny legs. I managed to stick my whole cock inside Rocky's asshole, but I bet I'll have to work really hard just to get half of it inside yours.”
“M-m-m-mouth,” she squeaked in response immediately, “my m-mouth...”
“Your mouth? I didn't say that was a choice.” His rejection sent her into hysterics, but Ricky was only teasing her. He really liked this girl's cheekbones, and he hadn't managed to get her to suck his cock earlier. He freed the girls from their mutual restraints and left Rocky to her own devices; a stretcher was the taller girl's only hope of moving, now.
But just because Ricky had decided to fuck CeCe's mouth first did not mean he couldn't make it as unpleasant as being raped vaginally or anally. Pulling the little redhead up on her knees, he retrieved the glass of milk sitting nearby and pressed the rim to her lips while cradling the back of her head.
“Drink up, sweetheart,” he said softly, “your mouth's probably bone dry, and it's no fun getting a blowjob from a girl who can't work up a little bit of spit.” CeCe sipped as eagerly at the milk as her activated gag reflex would allow, choking back tears even as she downed the offering.
He stowed away the empty glass once she was done and proffered his cock to CeCe. Blinded by her tears, she had no idea how filthy his penis was until her nose was close enough to discern its stench. Her head snapped to the side as she began to retch, but Ricky snatched her back by a handful of hair. “This was your idea,” he reminded her. “It's just your bestie's blood. And maybe a tiny bit of shit. Is she a vegetarian? Nobody is THIS fucking clean.”
Wearing a look of absolute disgust on her face, CeCe slowly opened her mouth and wrapped her lips gingerly around the tip of Ricky's cock. She pulled back almost immediately as the ferrous, putrid taste crept up her tongue, and she gagged so violently that it looked as though she might never be able to swallow again. Doing his part to help, Ricky pinched her nose and forced her jaw open, then fed his cock into her mouth.
“Bite me, and I'll make dying a dream that your friend will wish for.” Ricky had no idea where that came from. He had never been that eloquent, but some strange inspiration had driven him to word his threat in those terms. He shrugged, then pushed his cock further past CeCe's lips, which were curled inward along with her tongue as she did her best to avoid tasting the gunk coating it.
There was no avoiding it, however. Unable to breathe through her nose, she was forced to breathe the nauseating fumes steaming off Ricky's cock as she sucked air into her mouth. She raised her hands and braced herself against his thighs, but her token resistance suggested that she knew he wouldn't put up with it for long.
Nor would Ricky allow her to forget what was in her mouth, either. “This is what's called ass to mouth,” he told her. “From Rocky's tight little ass to your sweet little mouth.” He could see the muscles straining on her neck as she tried to keep down her bile and suck on his cock at the same time. He could feel her teeth grazing his cock, as her diminutive mouth was too small to accommodate his girth in the first place, but he was fine with that. With every inch she swallowed, the likelihood of her choking on his cock grew. His concern for her cocksucking skills, or his appreciation for the warm, wet confines of her pie hole, were both secondary to his desire of making her vomit.
Ricky could sense the tension rising in CeCe. She began to fight him for real as his cock slid over the back of her tongue, coming achingly close to hitting the curve of her throat. Her tongue pushed up and forward, trying in vain to dislodge his cock but succeeding only in stimulating him. The noises coming from her esophagus grew louder, the muscle contractions happening more frequently. He clamped down harder on her sharp beak of a nose, shortening his grip on her hair as he coiled more of it around his palm. He knew that she had entered a state where biting was no longer possible, unless she wished to suffocate.
“You are SO fuck-ing pretty,” he sighed in exhilaration as he looked down at CeCe. “Face of an angel, body of a ten year old.” He framed a picture of her sucking his cock, closed his eyes, and concentrated fiercely to imprint the experience in his mind. He wanted to remember this moment forever. “Wanna be my girlfriend, sweetheart? Yeah, let's go out, I'll buy you booze and cigarettes.”
That probably wasn't going to happen, because the next thing Ricky knew, his cock, hands and legs were covered in an explosion of milky vomit. He didn't take it as an insult, of course; after all, his cock had been bumping into the back of CeCe's throat, and she was just a thirteen year old kid who'd never sucked dick before. The reminders of where the blood came from, the cold milk he'd given to her, the air pockets in her stomach formed by drinking it quickly—all part of Ricky's plan to make the cute redhead throw up. He groaned as her throat began to massage him, its muscles trying to sort out the traffic jam of incoming air and outgoing puke.
Ricky choked CeCe for as long as he dared, pulling out as she teetered on the brink of being asphyxiated. Worse, she was retching so hard that there was a good chance the vomit would detour into her lungs and drown her. He stood off to the side and held her hair back as she continued to heave violently, sounding as if her stomach had turned inside out. The floor was a mess of milk and bile, and her face was no better.
She was slow to move after the flow of vomit began to abate, seeming as though she'd pulled every muscle in her body. Ricky took advantage of her distress and lined his cock up with her mouth again, filling her from lip to gullet with no regard for her suffering. She flailed at his bare legs, but he was having too much fun to give a shit. He couldn't let up, not when her eyes looked so pretty as their lashes fluttered wildly.
He repeated the process several times, stopping only when he thought he might kill her. He was panting from the exertion himself. He couldn't imagine how CeCe must be feeling beyond her ragged appearance. Somehow, with her smeared mascara, running nose, drooling mouth and puke spattered chin, Ricky still found her adorable as fuck.
He shoved her to the ground, where she arched her back and convulsed upon impact. As he threw himself on top of her, he grabbed the stray pillow lying nearby and shoved it under her head, letting gravity take care of her swallowing problems. He was about to add to her mountain of hurt, and he wanted her to fight him as much as she still could. It took only a small amount of effort to push her legs apart, but at least she was still trying. She seemed like such a lively, feisty thing, small but infinitely energetic. She mouthed the word “please" to him repeatedly, grimacing as he jabbed his cock between her legs to find his bearings.
But even with his hand's guidance, penetrating CeCe proved to be a grueling effort. Her body simply was not ready for a man of Ricky's temperament. Some little prick might have had an easier time if he got her wet and ready, but she was being raped after watching it happen to her mother and her best friend. She couldn't have been any tighter if she'd been allowed to clamp her legs shut.
CeCe's bad luck, then, lay in that Ricky wasn't going to give up. He pinned her to the ground and bulled into her, again and again. His cock started feeling sore down the middle as it absorbed the impact of colliding against CeCe's pussy, while her vulva became bruised and swollen from the pummeling.
And then he was in. He felt her hymen give way, her little pinhole of a slit torn open by pure brute force. CeCe wailed as loudly as her ravaged throat would allow, which sounded like a quiet but high pitched screech. Unable to alleviate her pain by screaming, her body was forced to bear the full brunt of the trauma, swallowing it all as it burned its way through her limbs. Ricky could feel her bleeding on his cock profusely, fueling his knowledge that CeCe was, in fact, in sheer fucking agony. He smiled, recoiled, and gave a harder shove with his cock.
CeCe threw up again and started to thrash. Her feet beat against him, and her little fists pounded the floor in protest. "You should be happy," said Ricky. "You're a woman now, and your mom can't even blame you for losing your cherry." But she had a lot of growing to do, yet. If Rocky's cunt felt like a clenched fist, then CeCe might as well have covered the fist hole with her thumb. Ricky was sure that he was opening up small fissures along her cunt walls as he barged his way deeper inside her.
He had not forgotten her other charms, either. As soon as he was able to establish enough of a foothold in her cunt, he turned his focus to her tiny breasts. He realized that he'd been too gentle with them before, and made up for it by squeezing on them hard enough to leave angry red marks. Her once healthy complexion had turned sheet white, making the bruises on her tits even more prominent. There would be no bikinis for CeCe that summer.
Ricky began to pinch and pull on her nipples as well, but his desire to bite them was not to be, since CeCe was too short and his mouth wouldn't reach. He would have to wait until he was done. Her delectably pink nipples suddenly became a sort of carrot on a stick to him; the faster and harder he fucked her, the sooner he would get to bite them to his heart's content.
He began to pummel the fuck out of her thirteen year old, recently deflowered cunt. With what little strength she had left, CeCe threw a hand over her mouth and bit down on it. Despite its smaller size, her body had refused to shut down as Rocky's had mercifully, leaving her with no choice but to try and refocus the pain elsewhere. Her teeth broke skin, drew blood. She tried to knock herself out by banging her head against the floor, but the pillow thwarted her. Ricky could have sworn he heard her pelvis crack, too, but the music—the uplifting beats these girls loved so much—was doing too good a job masking the sounds of their suffering.
Ricky might have lasted longer—he still hadn't fucked her ass, after all, and he doubted CeCe would survive being sodomized if he had to work himself up to a third orgasm from scratch—but he wanted very badly to cum inside her. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he had been consumed by an overwhelming desire to possess this girl in every way possible. He had to plant a part of himself inside her. He didn't care if his seed would take or if it would survive. His had given himself over to a more primal nature, and it demanded that he ejaculate at once.
Ricky dug his feet into the floor, drove himself as hard as he could into CeCe, and marked her as his property with his semen.
He let out a mighty groan when the last pulse of cum bubbled out of him. The orgasm was intensely satisfying, leaving him on a high that put to shame every narcotic he'd ever tried. Georgia Jones' indiscretion had given him a holiday from his conscience, afforded him a chance to do anything he wanted with these girls. He had raped and severely injured two gorgeous little girls and the woman whom he hated, and he felt no remorse. He went searching for it, deliberately, even as he pumped his sensitive cock inside the lacerated mess that was CeCe's pussy; he found nothing. The Ricky who had wanted to take CeCe out for ice cream was dead.
And the Ricky who was left behind would have died, too, if he hadn't decided to roll off the girl just in time for the knife to miss. Ricky howled in pain as the blade sliced across his arm, and as he lashed out defensively, the unsteady hand which wielded the knife lost its grip, dropping it and narrowly missing CeCe below.
Rolling away from danger, Ricky saw Georgia leaning forward to pick up the knife again. One of her wrists was soaked in blood; she appeared to have forcibly extricated her hand from the cuffs. He jumped off the floor and reached for the weapon, finding himself grabbing Georgia's wrist instead as the fucking bitch had already retrieved it. He punched her in the face with his free arm, but he was off balance and Georgia was one pissed off momma bear desperate to save her daughter. She shook off the blow and shoved Ricky back down, raising the knife with the intent to rip him wide open.
"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU YOU SON OF A BITCH!" she screeched, frothing at the mouth.
Ricky was disadvantaged in that he had to throw one leg between them to protect his balls, but somehow he managed to push the crazy cunt off balance. As she fell on her side, he followed her momentum and rolled on top of her. All four hands were on the knife as it trembled between two opposing forces, one bitchy, one evil.
With her daughter's life at stake, it was only logical that Officer Georgia Jones would prevail. But logic didn't save her from being raped, or Rocky from having her ass destroyed, or CeCe from losing her virginity to a street dealing lowlife instead of the college guy of her dreams. She was fucked.
Ricky leveraged his superior position and slowly pushed the knife downward. He roared as its tip pushed through Georgia's blue uniform shirt. He pushed again, and saw a dark stain start to spread across the fabric. Another push, and the bitch started squealing like the pig that she was. Push, push, push; Ricky thought he was in labor, but he was giving death, not birth.
When he finally stopped pushing, he saw that Georgia's eyes had gone glassy. His own chest felt wet and hot, and he realized that he was covered in the blood that seeped out of the hole he'd put in her heart.
Ricky was now a rapist AND a murderer.
He shrugged and rose to his feet. The girls, he noticed, were staring at him. Rocky had awakened just in time to watch him kill Georgia—lucky her. CeCe must have watched it happen, saw her protector snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, but she could do nothing but cry and mouth the word, 'Mom.” Both girls had been traumatized beyond the point of resistance.
Ricky checked the time. He'd been in the apartment for a little over two hours; he had probably overstayed his welcome. He had left quite a mess behind, too. Should he try to clean up? A thought occurred to him as he was trying to decide: both girls had seen his face. In fact, CeCe had seen him as early as when she got home. He also told them his name, because he simply felt like it. He had led himself down this path because he wanted things to turn out this way. Killing Georgia was no act of self defense.
He yanked the knife out of the woman's chest and went over to Rocky first. The girl was about as lively as Georgia, staring ahead with empty eyes. There was nothing left in her, nothing more from the pretty, leggy teenager for Ricky to take. She was limp as noodles when Ricky rolled her onto her back. She stayed that way when he plunged the knife into her stomach. He made sure she would bleed out by perforating her abdomen several more times. Blood poured out of Rocky's mouth as she heaved a final sigh of relief.
Now it was CeCe's turn. Ricky saw that she had reached out to her mom, clinging to her frozen hand. The girl shook with emotion as he approached her.
"Please...don't kill me..." she begged. "I don't wanna die..."
Ricky knelt beside her. "I'm sorry, baby. I really am." He wasn't. He just wanted to see how much more she had in her. "I know I said I wanted you to be my girlfriend, but I don't think that's going to work out, since I killed your mom and all." He saw Rocky's bra lying nearby and picked it up instinctively.
"I don't wanna die," CeCe reiterated. "Please don't kill me, Ricky..."
Ricky smiled as he pulled her head into his lap. He had only mentioned his name the one time, but the girl remembered it all the same. That sweet gesture made him happy. He stroked her hair and brushed it all behind her ears.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm just going to make you dream for a very long time." Ricky looped the bra's straps around CeCe's neck and started pulling the ends apart.
A series of croaking noises rose from CeCe's throat as Ricky began to strangle her. She clawed at him with both hands, hard enough to leave welts on his skin as her survival instincts made its last stand. However, she was already short of breath to begin with, and the fight in her body soon deserted her spirit, leaving only her bulging eyes to express how unfair she thought this was.
Ricky took his eyes off the dying girl and looked over at the family photos on the mantel, which he should have noticed when he first entered the apartment. CeCe was such a cute kid, with so much going for her. His grip was beginning to slip, so he readjusted it, leaving the straps slack momentarily.
CeCe gave a ghastly wheeze as the constriction on her neck disappeared. She seized this chance to fill her lungs with air—but one chance was all she got. The bra straps had tightened around her neck again. Even as she batted at Ricky's arms, she beat a frantic, discordant rhythm on the floor with her feet. "No, no, no, no!" the thumps seemed to cry.
"That's it, baby," said Ricky, "dance for me. You're a star. You're a super star."
CeCe battled for any sliver of air that she could smuggle through her airways, but as the straps dug deeper into her throat, her dying gasps came fewer and farther between. Her tongue strained toward the ceiling, rising out of her mouth like a surrender flag; it made Ricky regret not having enough time to feel it licking his sac for hours. Her face slowly turned from red to blue, her tongue from blue to black.
Ricky made it last. He counted each second in his head, watching CeCe struggle. He loved it when she would arch her back suddenly, finding the energy from some secret reserve. He loved the gurgling, choking sounds her throat made. He loved the way the muscles in her abdomen clenched, released, and clenched again. He loved everything about her.
As her eyes went blank, her small frame adopted a cycle of spontaneous convulsions and slow sagging. All told, it was a long and agonizing ten minutes. He actually had begun to sweat, but by the end of the ordeal, thirteen year old CeCe Jones was dead by asphyxiation. Ricky had strangled her to death.
He let the straps go slack. Panting, he observed the girl for signs that she might still be alive, but apart from some twitching, there was no pulse left to find. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and her tongue lolled flaccidly over the corner of her mouth.
Ricky smelled something sharp in the air as well, an odor more familiar to him than blood. He knew where to check; looking between CeCe's thighs, he saw a growing pudding of urine. As her body was allowed to relax, its muscles relinquished control over her bladder, freeing the fluids inside it.
"Naughty girl," Ricky admonished CeCe for having peed herself.
He climbed out from beneath her and surveyed the apartment. Georgia's corpse didn't try to get up and clobber him for murdering her daughter. Rocky hadn't budged, either, and her skin had gone ashen from all the blood she'd lost. With everyone dead, there was no longer any reason to leave the music on. He stepped over the bodies of his victims and turned off the stereo, knowing full well that he had stepped in some of the blood. He no longer gave a shit about getting caught. It wouldn't do the Joneses or Rocky any good. Justice was always after the fact.
Ricky thought about what the cops would do to him once they caught him. He'd been booked numerous times before, but never for anything this serious. What kind of charges would they pin on him? Assault? Rape? Murder? Probably all of the above. He couldn't help but find that a little mundane. There had to be something else he could do that would set him apart, something that would make people say, "Shit, that Ricky? Now that cat was one fucked UP motherfucker."
He realized that he'd been staring at CeCe's photos. Maybe he could take one and keep it as a memento. The thought of taking a keepsake to masturbate to later led him to think about the actual girl again. If he was going to take something of hers, then perhaps he should leave her with something, too. Smiling, he went over to her body, picked it up, and flipped it over the armrest of the couch.
It didn't take long for Ricky to get hard for a third time. CeCe's lovely corpse was lying face down on the couch, with her tight little ass propped up at the perfect angle in front of him. She was still warm, and the trail of pee on her inner thighs made it look like she'd orgasmed while being strangled. He bent forward and spread her cheeks open, pushing this way and that as he experimented with distending her pink asshole. It looked irresistible, and Ricky couldn't help but lean closer and thrust his tongue against it. He didn't care that it was stained with her pee. Every part of CeCe was beautiful and delectable. His cock roared back to full hardness as he attacked her tender anus with his mouth and tongue.
Ricky came away from his oral expedition thinking that the girls might have appreciated this kind of attention before he'd killed them—Rocky, especially, considering what he'd done to her. Remembering the feel of her asshole, he immediately sought to reclaim the pleasure and gave in to his urge to fuck CeCe's corpse in the ass. He penetrated her easily; there were no muscle contractions to hold him back, no kicking, no screaming. Just a quiet, obedient little dead girl whose face was frozen in incredulity, forever in awe of the cruel method by which she was slain. She would never know why people like Ricky existed, or how he could evolve, in the span of only two hours, from a petty criminal to a sadistic creature.
She was just a sheath, a cock sleeve, a hole into which Ricky could ram his hard, murderous cock. He ripped into her asshole for several minutes before cumming inside it as well, filling her gut with his cold dispassion.
That spot on the couch would be shared on a rotating basis as Ricky went on to rape Rocky's and Georgia's corpses as well, before CeCe got another turn. Ricky's dick was what got him in trouble in the first place, but it also brought him the greatest night of his life.
Sticky Ricky was still Sticky Ricky. Only, instead of being sticky with his own cum, now he was sticky from being covered in blood.
Author's note: Thank you for reading, and feedback is much appreciated!
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