Very Bad People [Feral + miles]

[miles]

It was a glorious day to be alive. The sun was shining brightly without being scorching hot. Birds were singing in the trees mixing with the distant sound of unseen children playing, as well as the phantom smells of lunch-time barbeques. All the houses on these streets looked the same. Not literally - here was one with a porch, there was one with delicate designs in the moldings around the windows, this one was painted a gaudy, pale pink, and that one seemed longer on the first floor than tall on the second - but the concepts were repetitious. Beautiful, well-kept lawns, manicured gardens, minivans and SUVs parked in the driveways, with the token white picket fences, golden retrievers and tire swings in the trees that accented the front yards. The idea was perfection, encapsulated and shielded by it's nauseating innocence. A dignified pride in community and kinship and a self-respect that bordered on flatulent arrogance.

And Rand wanted to rip into it all. Acid seared through his veins as he drove through these streets at 10mph, his cold, dark eyes scanning and taking in every detail. There was almost something mocking about the fearlessness of this tender neighborhood, something that should have been discouraged in these modern times, almost daring him to take advantage of it's unlocked doors and unlatched yard gates. Poison dripped from the sneering smile he held, cruising along, watching housewives converse on porch swings, gossiping over coffee while their children tossed balls that strayed into the street occasionally. How utterly delightful it would be to knock on one of these doors, letting the unassuming woman of the house answer, only to be shoved into her kitchen, get her ass raped and have her throat slit with the knife she was using to bake a fucking pie. Or how super fucking grand would it be to stalk into an unlocked yard where the tots played in a small inflatable pool unsupervised, and grab ahold of the golden haired mutt that came to investigate him only to strangle the adorable thing with piano wire, right in front of the astonished children's eyes.

This much vanity and naivete deserved to be punished but Rand wasn't on a quest to fulfill some sort of grudge against the wealthy and comforted masses. No, a different desire forced him to choose this as his hunting ground, gladly taking advantage of the neighborhood's blissful obliviousness to the evil he represented. For as long as he could remember, Rand had entertained fantasies of violence and force, the need to reenact his imaginings growing in strength as he matured. And so he had. Twice before he'd gone on this little adventure, searching out a victim and abusing them until their life was used up. It had been a month since the last time and still, there were no reports of the previous victims' bodies being discovered, so he felt safe enough to give into the urges again. It was a tough burden for one man to contain. Thankfully, he hadn't done it alone.

Glancing into the passenger's seat, his dark eyes danced over the form of his lover, taking her in with an apathetic air. She was his partner, the crucial piece of this play being acted out, for even in a neighborhood as dazed and sheltered as this, Rand would not be able to lure in the precious meat he desired to snare on his own. That's where she came in and there was a part of him that understood and appreciated the sacrifice she was making to go through with this. Then again, there was another part of him that just didn't care how she felt. It was his game and she would do what he told her, lest she end up on the wrong side of the fence. He tried to feel something more sympathetic towards her in that regard, but really, that's what it came down to. He needed this and she, being in tune with his needs, was obligated to provide it in what ways she could. Other than that, he felt no compatibility with her on this issue. He was a monster and she was his puppet and he was fine with things being that way.

As they continued to glide down the streets like a beat-up maroon colored shark, he glanced out at the sidewalk on the right side and noticed several meters ahead, a blonde young woman walking in what appeared to be Sunday dress. She was alone on this street with brilliant red hair tied neatly into two Pocahontas braids by each ear, with white sneakers paired with her floral print skirt. Probably walking home from church? But it wasn't even Sunday! Still, his eyes did not leave her as they inched along, eventually slowing down to a stop, idling in the empty street. His pulse thundered in his skull and his thighs clenched in anticipation of getting his hands on this precious, fucking sanctimonious little whore.

"I think we found our special friend for the day," he murmured in a sultry tone, but really it went without saying. Glancing at his companion, he said, "Let's go over the plan once more before we start. Things went well the first two times and you did good--" he paused to shoot a glance out the back windshield, just to make sure the coast was still clear, which it was. "--real good, but let's just double check to make sure we're on the same page. How are you gonna approach her?" His fingers left the steering wheel to grip at the tight fabric of his jeans on his thigh, a heat growing in his groin as the girl stopped to bend down and tie her shoelaces, still several meters away from the sedan but fully within grabbing distance in a matter of seconds.

 

[miles]

After the initial wariness, once Bri got the young woman near enough to the car, Rand was no longer nervous about being caught or seen. It was like a switch had been flicked inside him, fear draining from his body as his lover lured the prize within their grasp, adrenaline and a cold calm taking it's place. He had to admit that he was moderately impressed by Bri's ability to lure the prey into the car and her efficiency with snapping the trap shut, but he expected nothing less of her. Driving away from the still empty and stupidly placid street, Rand giggled under his breath and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as he made his way out of the ignorant neighborhood. Seriously, it was like stealing candy from a fucking baby. Pathetic.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Rand watched as the suburb community dwindled in the distance, eventually letting his gaze fall to Bri. There'd been a small struggle back there and he had to admit... the way the woman manhandled their chosen victim, using what strength she had and her speed to disable the red head... it kind of turned him on. His attention was on the road but his focus was on her now as she bound the young woman and a strange feeling entered his chest to see the look of determination on her face. Up to this point, Bri had always been moderately involved, her job being to act as bait and then to capture the prey while he got to enjoy the spoils. Control was something he liked to keep a firm handle on, so he always made her stay with him while he worked, never once considering that she should become a part of the drama he was acting out. In fact, he blamed her for him needing to do this in the first place. If she'd been better at satisfying him, then he wouldn't need to search elsewhere for fulfillment. A smirk danced on his lips as he considered that falsehood, amusement filling him to remember using that line on her to get her to go along with this in the first place.

Glancing away from her, he looked at himself in the mirror, staring straight into steel gray eyes, shadowed by menacing and expressive eyebrows. If Rand had to describe himself, he'd say he was a dark haired Adonis. Not a plastic beauty like a Brad Pitt or anything but more rugged and dangerous. His skin was a healthy tan from being out in the sun and his nose was straight and angular, fitting his features with an even balance. A shadow of facial hair almost always covered his chin and cheeks, due to his sporadic dedication to shaving, and his chin was pointed, his face, like the rest of him, reflecting a slender strength. His smile, although charming, was less than perfect, the teeth on both the bottom and top rows right in the front of his mouth seeming to overlap eachother haphazardly, jostling for space in his mouth. Other than that minor crookedness, they were kept clean, and he was actually rather fond of them, giving his smile the appearance of fangs if one didn't look too closely.

When Bri rejoined him in the front, his eye caught sight of the blood on her arm. Reaching over, with cigarette dangling between his lips, he grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm to get a better look as the scratch. Seeing even the small amount of blood on her skin got a jolt to run through him, just like it did every time he painted her body in new bruises or cuts. But he kept his face a mask of indifference, shoving her hand away with an annoyed click of his tongue, not looking at her as he muttered, "Idiot." There was absolutely no reason for the name-calling in this moment except that he had the impulse to degrade her. With the way she'd acted so high and mighty and irritated when they quickly went over the plan again before the grab, he had the urge to knock her down to the ground again where she fucking belonged. Despite the arousal he felt at seeing her wounded, he still wanted her to remember who was truly the star of the evening and who would be getting all of the attention. Not her, of course.

Eventually their drive took them out of town and the girl roused while they were on the highway, en route to the "nest" where they engaged in these horrific activities. Her soft sobs and gentle cries made Rand glance back at where she lay on the backseat, laying on her side with her skirt lifted up to bare creamy knees. Invigorated by her helpless noise, he sped up, weaving through traffic in a desire to get there and tear her clothes and skin off. Luckily, when it was time for their exit, he remained unaccosted by the law despite the reckless driving and speeds he'd been pushing. Honestly, it was like he was invincible. Nobody could touch him and he'd never be held accountable for what he did.

Driving a few more miles down forest bordered roads, he turned down a secluded driveway. Making his way to the end and parking in front of a cabin, he got out of the junky 1989 Honda Civic Sedan and looked around. At least a mile of woods blocked them from sight of the road they'd turned off of and there were no neighbors to speak of anywhere nearby. The cabin was old and ratty, a leftover from when he was a kid and his parents wanted to get away for vacations and shit. Turned out his home life wasn't as pretty or blessed as Bri's but it was old news and he preferred not to dwell on it now. It was just lucky for him that his parents actually left him with something useful, if not love or an actual safe and comforting environment to grow up in.

"Bring her inside," he ordered his lover as she too got out of the car and he mounted the porch to go unlock the cabin door. Like all cabins, this one was in disrepair due to neglect, but it served their purposes just fine. It wasn't like anyone was supposed to actually live here, and another ironic smirk twisted his lips at the thought as he shoved the door open. Standing there, he waited and watched her to make sure the girl didn't give Bri any trouble. Not that he expected Bri to be unable to handle it but it wouldn't surprise him if she were overwhelmed and he would be forced to chase the girl down and drag her ass inside himself.

 

[miles]

Rand became a different animal when the door closed the three of them into the cabin together. After Bri got the girl into the room safely, he was no longer concerned with her, casting her out of mind, his eyes fixated on the pretty young thing now squirming upon the mattress. The barest of light came through the windows, enough to illuminate the space but he flicked the switch by the door anyway, a lone bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling casting a warm glow like yellowed newspaper. Stalking forward, Rand slipped off the loose button-up shirt he'd had on, tossing it aside and then pulled his T-shirt off over his head, baring a slender, tanned body and flat, semi-muscular stomach. Rand worked construction, so he was able to get outside a lot and the manual labor certainly helped him keep fit, but other than that, he wasn't vain enough to work out. Still, he was formidable enough to overpower Bri on a regular basis and would certainly have no trouble with little Miss Sunday Dress..

From the closet against the wall, Rand got out a small roll of fabric, bringing it with him as he approached the dresser against the wall beside the bed. On it was an old stereo and piled next to it was a dozen cassette tapes. Pushing a button on the stereo, he opened the tape player, taking out the tape that was in there and setting aside. Then, moving his finger in a lazy searching motion, his hand hovered over the row of tapes before finding and selecting the one he wanted, inserting it in the player and snapping it shut. After pushing play, he made his way over to the bed, the deep, jolting piano in the opening of Tears for Fears' "Head Over Heels" coming from the old speakers. The music relaxed him while he worked, filling him with a sense of nostalgia, remembering playing in his parents living room while his mother cleaned the house to these songs and this music. It also reminded him of the nights of overheard fighting and the beatings he suffered at the hands of both parents, fueling his anger as he brought out the pain again in his victims.

The sheets of the mattress were covered in plastic, mostly because the mattress was old and most likely disgusting but also because he tended to make a mess and it was easier to clean up. The girl softly begged him for something, shying away from him as he neared, barely heard as Orzabal started singing in his deep, melodic voice. Rand ignored her fear, setting his fabric pack aside and singing along as he lit himself another cigarette. "I wanted to be with you alone... and talk about the weather but traditions I can trace against the child in your face... won't escape my attention," his voice mimicked the other man's tones while he smirked and released breathes of smoke between his lips.

Grabbing for the girl, he untied the rope Bri had put around her wrists, preferring to instead tie the red head's wrists to the thin iron bars of the headboard. Leaving her legs free, he knelt with one knee on the mattress, murmuring the song to himself as he opened his pack and looked over his instruments. There was the wire he'd used to choke the second victim with in there and the ball-pein hammer that he'd smashed the first victim's skull with. as the weeks of eluding discovery and remaining uncaught went on, he'd come upon and collected a myriad of other tools and objects that ignited in his imagination a desire to see them used to hurt someone. Pulling out a long cloth, he blindfolded the girl. This was different than the last times and it excited him as the girl begged him "No" in a shuddering, blubbering voice as he covered her eyes. It excited him even more as he caressed her face and slapped her, the girl shocked by the gestures she couldn't even tell were coming.

Her fear was palpable, especially since as Rand inspected his tools, he let her watch him and see them, now being unaware of what he selected or what was going to happen next. Heat began to pulse through his groin, his faded blue jeans growing tight when he pulled out a pair of scissors and cut the girl's blouse open. The bra he also carelessly snipped through, removing his cigarette before bending down and biting a creamy breast, earning him a frantic yelp from his prey. Pausing a moment, he glanced over his shoulder where Bri was, making sure she was staying put, before turning back and plunging his hands beneath the floral print skirt. Trembling thighs resisted his exploring, ungentle touches and he laughed meanly around his cigarette as she first attempted to kick and then order him away. Underneath the skirt, the girl sported a black thong and Rand sat back in minor shock, purring at her, "Someone's a naughty bitch." Ha! Pious little slut!

To start things off, Rand began with small bits of torture, singing as the tape progressed to the next song. "Shout...shout..let it all out! These are the things I could do without, come on! I'm talking to you! Come on!" he sang playfully as he burned her breast with his cigarette. Smacking her with a homemade whip, eventually milky skin turned red with wilts, blood coming to the surface on a few long cuts on her breasts and thighs. Then his fists pounded into her, painting her with young bruises that he'd never get to see ripen like the lovely marks he'd once put upon Bri. During the whipping, the girl screamed with jolted cries, but during the beating she merely grunted and sobbed in agony, all of it getting him more pumped and more heated, his jeans starting to suffocate him.

Slipping out of the constricting clothing, long and wiry thighs emerging and 7 inches of hardened cock bobbing free, he let loose a pleased sigh and knelt between the trembling and screaming red-head's legs. Plunging deep inside her warm folds, he held his upper body up and punched her full-force in the face, cutting her screams off and leaving her moaning in pain as he proceeded to fuck her. At one point, Rand looked up from his bliss to catch sight of Bri and he remembered what she looked like when wrestling the young thing beneath him into the car. How determined and angry... how much hate burned in her veins. And that's when the idea struck.

Pulling out of the warm, wet pussy and standing from the bed, he wandered over to where Bri sat, unabashedly still hard as he loomed over her. "How about you join the party this time?" he suggested, lifting a dark eyebrow at her and smirking wickedly. "Get up," he ordered, not waiting for her to comply but grabbing her by the arm and lifting her to her feet, bringing her over towards the bed. Standing, watching the shivering girl, legs slightly spread, blindfolded and bottom lip trembling, he rubbed his nose against Bri's ear and neck, prodding her buttocks with his erection as he whispered, "I want to see what you can do you stupid bitch. That is, if you have the balls to get your hands dirty and prove you're just as sick and depraved as I am."

It was a win-win situation for him. On the one hand, Bri might be reluctant and not actually want to do this. Even if she refused, he'd force her to hurt this girl and he'd get off on both women's discomfort and humiliation, while also finding a reason to punish Bri for her resistance and something to hold over her head for the next time he got the urge to do this. On the other hand, if Bri obeyed and did well... this would be quite the show for him to enjoy. The desire to kill the girl was inside him, longing to spill the young woman's blood and watch the life slip from her, but he wouldn't mind letting Bri play with her a little bit first. "All around me are familiar faces... worn out places, worn out faces..." he sang to her echoing the voices on the tape player before shoving her towards the bed and their still living victim.

 

[miles]

Intensity defined Rand as he watched Bri climb upon the bed, her tender touches and soft words earning a raised brow from him. He heard the taunt in her voice but still, he was wondering where she was going with this, still waiting for her to reject his authority and turn into a sniveling waif that he could torment along with the other victim. Then laughter bubbled from his throat as he watched his lover's fingers violently disappear into the other woman's cunt, the gesture completely unexpected and the painful writhing of their victim delighting him in the best possible way. With the songs playing from the stereo and watching Bri reprimand the red-headed girl so viciously, Rand was a little boy again, watching in sadistic delight as a tortured animal flailed in agony in the yard, when suddenly the neighbor's cat decided to join his game and finish toying with his prey.

As things progressed, his slender fingers found themselves wrapped around his leaking cock, jerking and teasing himself as he watched Bri's hands work at the woman's flesh, creating new bruises and splitting the skin in new beautiful patterns, blood dripping onto the plastic sheets beneath them. He didn't know where his eyes should be, overwhelmed and excited by the pain and sorrow in the girl's body and face, yet turned on watching what was essentially a female mirror of himself torturing the precious innocent. The pain was what captured him mostly, but even when the girl's cries died down for a little while, his eyes were all for Bri, her hands staining red as she used his tools in ways he hadn't thought of yet, filled with the urge to simultaneously take them from her and play with them himself and yet just wanting to stop and watch her own imagination work it's magic. Who the fuck was this woman?! And where the fuck had she been?

Apparently, hiding within the form of his lover, allowed to fester and grow due to his violently nurturing influence - obviously. He doubted little miss suburbia would have ever fathomed to do this if it hadn't been for him. And that, added onto the fact that she was basically obeying him and performing for him was a great boost to his ego, making his dick throb even more as he got hot over his own power over both women. Unable to take her teasing anymore, Rand stepped forward, easing himself onto the bed behind her, his hands moving around her body to start undoing the button on her jeans. Kissing and biting at her back and shoulder as he eased her pants down over her ass, he huskily ordered, "Don't stop..." his hand placing on the middle of her back and forcing her into a position on hands and knees hovering over the other woman, giving him access to her rear quarters. Shoving her underwear aside, he began to finger Bri's pussy roughly, swirling his thumb over her puckered asshole as he commanded her to "Choke the fucking bitch and punch her."

"Don't kill her," he said sternly, pausing in his attentions to direct his wicked lover. "I just want to fucking hear the sounds." Having said that he immersed his face between Bri's thighs, his tongue slithering over her swelling pussy lips and wiggling between her folds, the tip of his nose nuzzling at the bud between her butt cheeks as his mouth moved to massage her deeper.

 

[miles]

His mind spun in a dizzying haze as the sounds from the two women filled his ears. The meaty, bone shattering crack as Bri punched their victim a couple of times almost causing him to laugh out loud with it's absurdity and violence. Then Bri's voice, begging and dirty, filtering through the choking gasps of the woman beneath her. And during the entire thing, Rand's mouth worked feverishly, suckling at Bri's sensitive flesh and savagely fucking her with his tongue, reveling in the taste and smells that filled his head. But all the while, Tears For Fears still crooned from the stereo and, irritated by the interruption of the voices and distracted by memories of his mother, Rand rose from the bed with a sudden jolt, shoving the stereo and most of the tapes off the side of the dresser with a growl. Turning, he regarded Bri with wild eyes, sweat glistening in his dark hair and madness in the smirk that he gave her.

It was time. He'd been teased enough and now watching the writhing, unrecognizable, mass of flesh on the bed beneath Bri, he was done entertaining the thing's life for much longer. It had become disgusting and putrid, suddenly turned alien through the processes that had brought him here and he could no longer stand the sight of it, wishing to purge it from his blood. Leaning forward, he shoved the blindfold from the bloody thing's face, looking into beady, empty eyes, his revulsion and hate growing as it began to leak more fluids and emit more noises from the holes in it's head. It had to stop. He needed a fucking shower now.

Walking around the bed and taking his position behind Bri again, he leaned over her body, his cock, still hard as granite, rubbing and nuzzling at the backs of her thighs and between her legs. Kissing at her neck and shoulder, he was tender and soft, in contrast to the violence that boiled within him at sight of the still squirming, puddle of parts beneath them both. Guiding himself to her entrance, he rubbed the head of his cock through her folds before finally shoving himself inside. A heady gasp escaped his lips as her warmth enveloped him, and once again, she took center stage in his mind. The smell of her pussy overwhelmed him as his hips began to thrust into her from behind, her lithe form jerking forward with each plunge into her depths he took. The blood staining her hands like skin-tight gloves and the look of lust in her eyes he'd spied when facing her - all of it enchanted him, seducing him, his hips pounding more forcefully to let her feel just how much he wanted her, how beautiful and absolutely insane she looked in this moment.

Fingers gripped at her hips, bruising her skin as he humped her doggedly, wet slapping sounding as their sweat-coated thighs collided again and again. Having already teased himself to madness by this point, he felt like he was going to burst any moment within her, but hoarsely moaning her name, he kept the feeling at bay. Slowing his strokes, he reached over her shoulder to where his pack lay, and lifted her up on her knees enough that she could hold the knife he'd selected without falling. With an arm wrapped around her waist and gently thrusting between her legs as the knelt on the bed together, he kissed at her neck and with the voice of a tortured man said, "I want you to kill it. I want to watch you drain the life from this one." Such release! Like a weight lifted from his shoulders to finally utter those words - it was not important who killed the thing but the fact that the decision to end it's life had finally been made - and thus, when the thing began to squeak it's grotesque pleas for life, he was unbothered and untouched. It was over now. Bri was going to end it.

Finally stopping his thrusts completely, he waited for his lover to comply, hanging onto her and keeping her steady, while remaining buried in her body up to the hilt.

 

[miles]

Bri smelt of blood before but once it came gushing out like a stream over rocks, his nostrils filled with it's strong scent, his mind racing and heat flowing through him. Eagerly, with a panting smile on his face, he watched the light in the girl's eyes first shine brightly in confused terror, searching frantically for nothing as she gurgled helplessly, before finally the light faded to an all-consuming dullness. Not only was their power over life and death intoxicating, but also Bri was mesmerizing in her reactions to the event. Cradling her with one arm wrapped around her stomach, he swayed with her as her body shook with the force of her orgasm, feeling her insides hug his cock in tiny, internal tremors. The tightness and the friction of it was what sent him over the edge and he pulled out slightly only to thrust deeper inside of her one final time before letting loose in a climax of his own. Spurts of hot, thick cum shot from the tip of his throbbing cock, his thickness seeming to swell greedily within her plush inner walls with each shot. A long, deep moan left his throat and as he knelt behind her, he held her close, letting her warmth seep into his bones, bonding with her in this terrible, beautiful moment.

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided to a comforting hum, he kissed and nuzzled at her neck, rubbing his stubbled chin against her before pulling out and stepping off the edge of the bed. On his feet again, he swayed for a moment before regaining his equilibrium and went searching for his pants, not bothering with underwear as he slipped them back on. Lighting a cigarette, he breathed in a lungful of smoke and suddenly wondered where his music went. Remembering the broken stereo, he shoved the moment of regret away as he turned back to Bri. Walking over to her, he gently caressed her face and held her chin in his hand looking at her with a deep and thoughtful stare. She'd... she was amazing... What she did had been sick and fucked up and he loved every second of it; loved sharing that violence and bloodshed with her. Part of him wanted to kiss her and hold her and then lay her down on the bloodied mattress next to the corpse and fuck her 'til she cried out, coming on his cock again...

But another part of him rejected the moment of bonding they'd shared. She was still the same girl from before. Sure, he was impressed and turned on and was definitely glad that he knew what she was capable of now... but he didn't want her to think she could get close to him. He didn't want her to think that he cared or to think for one second that she wasn't disposable... even though he wasn't even sure himself that she really was anymore... How could he ever do this without her now? Still watching her, his touch and his eyes grew cold and he shoved her face roughly away, turning from her apathetically as he muttered around his cigarette, "Go take a fucking shower. I'll start cleaning up out here."