Burt Niles was looking for a little excitement in life.
In better than three years of selling dresses at Harry's on the Boulevard, a chic dress shop located on Ventura Boulevard in the heart of Encino, he had been attracted to many of the girls he waited on. But he could never seem to be able to talk to them in anything but a professional sense. He held his own as a dress salesman, but could not seem to make any progress as far as a social life was concerned.
It was the middle of a lazy late autumn afternoon when he caught the eye of a beautiful brunette, who was looking at dresses in the window of the shop.
He had been taking inventory, but he stopped at that point to observe the girl.
She was dressed in a purple pantsuit that brought out the curvaceous lines in her figure to absolute precision.
The first thing he noticed about her was the size of her breasts. He always admired women who had huge bustlines, and this one was very well endowed.
He felt a twitching sensation between his legs. He looked down and observed his cock getting extremely hard as he looked at the girl, who was nonchalantly browsing in the window.
When she continued to stand there, and looked several times inside the store, he decided that she was contemplating the possibility of going inside. All she needed, he reasoned, was a little assistance.
To serve that end, he walked toward the door.
"Good afternoon, can I help you?" he asked with a smile. "We've got plenty more of the same inside."
"You do have some very nice dresses on display out here."
"Thank you. If you'd like to step in, I would be glad to show you anything that might be of interest to you."
"That's very nice of you," she grinned.
He immediately pegged her as being from the college down the street. The dress shop was strategically situated two blocks removed from Valley City College. The store did a brisk business among the coeds.
The gorgeous brunette with the huge breasts decided to go inside the store with Burt.
The longer he remained near her, the harder his cock seemed to become.
It was getting downright annoying to Burt to be so close to these girls, yet so far removed. It bugged him no end to know that they would rely on his judgment regarding the purchase of dresses, but would never consider going out on a date with him.
"By the way, my name is Burt Niles," he smiled after they got into the store.
"Hi, I'm Midge Evans. I'll tell you the kind of dress I'm looking for, Mr. Niles. I'm looking for something that is formal but not too formal."
"You mean something on the chic side, but nothing real wild."
"Yes, that's a good way of putting it," she nodded. "You see, I need it for the home coming dance after the football game Saturday night."
"I see."
"It's quite an honor," she smiled coyly. "I was voted homecoming queen for some strange reason. I don't know how I made it, considering how many girls there are in the school who are a lot prettier than I am."
"After seeing you, my dear, I don't believe one word of that," he grinned. "You're being entirely too modest."
"Well, thank you for saying that."
"Don't mention it. I was only speaking the truth. Now, if you'll come with me, I'll see what we can find for you."
He had meant everything that he had said to her. He had thought her to be an unquestionably attractive young girl. She had beautifully thick raven colored hair, coupled with thick black eyelashes and stunning dark eyes. Her complexion was velvety, and her lips were thick and sensuous. He was strongly attracted to her.
He showed her a number of dresses, making suggestions along the way.
At one point he focused his eyes on a pink dress, which he immediately felt would be appropriate for the occasion in question.
"Say, I like this dress over here very much," he pointed toward it.
He walked toward it and Midge did the same.
"We said that we wanted something formal, but something that reflects modern taste as well. Isn't that true?"
"Yes, that's really what I'm looking for. It's the combination I'd like to maintain."
"Alright, Midge. So what do you think about this dress? Do you think it combines the two ingredients that we're searching for?"
"Just let me look at it from a distance," she said.
"You're a very wise girl," he smiled. "You want to be able to tell how your admirers will be sizing you up from a distance."
"I don't know about that," she chuckled. "I just like to look at clothes from a distance so I can get a little better perspective."
"I realize that," he nodded. "I was just making a clumsy effort toward being funny."
"Oh no, I knew you were kidding. It wasn't a clumsy effort at all."
He watched her as she backed up several steps, her eyes focused with great concern on that pink dress.
She looked at it for several long seconds. Then she walked back toward where he was standing.
"I've made my decision," she said emphatically.
"Would you care to share it with me?" he smiled.
"Yes, I agree with you. It does combine the two elements we were talking about. I'll take it."
"Fine. I'm glad to hear that. I know you're going to look absolutely beautiful in it."
"There's just one thing I've got to know, of course."
"I think I know what that is. You want to know the price."
"Exactly," she nodded. "Ninety-five dollars."
"When could I pick it up?"
"You can pick it up on Friday. Isn't that when you need it?"
"Well, I need it by Saturday. I would like to pick it up one day ahead."
"That's just how I was figuring. I was figuring on giving it to you one day ahead."
"Then I guess all I need to do now is to try it on."
"That's about it."
He showed her to the dressing room and she walked inside with the dress.
A few minutes later she came out. She wore the beautiful pink dress, and his cock hardened all the more as he looked at her in it.
"That's a very good fit," he said pleasantly. "They won't have to make too many changes at all."
"No, I'm very pleased."
She took the dress off and reappeared a few minutes later.
"Could I just put twenty dollars down on this today?" she asked.
"That would be fine. Better yet, why don't you start a charge account with us? You no doubt buy dresses from time to time. It would be a big saving to you in the long run. You'll have to put down something in the way of cash today, since the store will have to make a credit check on you."
"I fully understand that."
"But after that, after we've made the check, then you can just charge things. It makes it much easier in the long run."
"You know, you're absolutely right. I think I'll do that."
He walked behind the desk and opened the cash register.
He pulled out a charge account application, which he handed to her.
"Just fill this out please, Midge," he smiled courteously.
She spent the next few minutes filling out the card, which she handed back to him.
She then reached into her purse and handed him twenty dollars.
He took the two ten dollar bills and placed them in the cash register, writing out an order slip on the dress.
"Come in any time after two on Friday, Midge, and we'll have your dress for you," he smiled. "Thank you very much."
"And thank you," she grinned.
A contented Midge Evans walked out of the store and Burt Niles was left alone with his throbbing dick.
CHAPTER TWO
Burt waited with great anticipation for Friday afternoon.
He had liked the looks of Midge Evans, and he was dying to get another look at her beautiful body, particularly those broad, sweeping, very firm tits.
She showed up on Friday at a few minutes past three.
He was extremely pleased to see her, particularly considering the way the morning had gone.
Harry's on the Boulevard mainly catered to young girls, but that day he was forced to do business with a number of very difficult middle aged society matrons. It had been a difficult ordeal, and now that he had survived it, he was looking forward with great interest to talking to this beautiful young girl.
He had attempted to fortify himself in the interim between Midge's visits to talk to her in a friendly, familiar way, a way that was strictly removed from business.
He had looked at himself in the mirror several times and had concluded that he was not all that bad looking a man.
Burt was in his middle thirties, and his hair was coal black, with the exception of a mutation that had left a tiny streak of white hair which ran from his widow's peak all the way to the back of his head.
He was doing his best to bolster his confidence. He hoped that he would not trip over his tongue, as he so often did when he was talking to a woman he liked.
Certainly, he could always communicate with her in a friendly business fashion. But generally, whenever he really liked a girl and the conversation turned to more serious matters, he was seldom able to communicate at all.
"Good afternoon, Midge," he smiled.
"Hello, Burt. Is the dress ready?"
"It certainly is."
"Good, then I'd like to pick it up. I have lots of things to do today."
"Busy day, eh?"
"Yes. After all, the big dance is tomorrow night, so I have to get everything out of the way."
"I see."
He was easily able to observe that her mood was a little less friendly than on the other occasion.
She was all business, and that caused his confidence to diminish immediately. He could see that she was a busy girl with a lot to do, whereas the first time she had come in she had been a lot more relaxed.
"Here it is," he said, handing her the box that it was wrapped in. "By the way, your charge account has been opened. I have your charge plate for you."
"Oh, fine."
"So if you'd like, if you're short of money or anything, you can charge the rest of the dress."
"That would be very good," she said. "I couldn't pay for the rest of it today anyway. I wanted to pay another installment."
"Well, that won't be necessary now. You have your charge account established with us, so I can give you the dress and you can pay for it later."
"Good. I'd like to pay the rest at the end of the month."
"Yes, we'll bill you at that time."
She took the dress and was getting ready to leave.
He saw that his opportunity for getting better acquainted with Midge was quickly vanishing. He had to do something fast.
"What time is the big dance tomorrow night?" he asked.
"It starts at eight o'clock."
"You certainly will be the belle of the ball. I predict that," he smiled.
Even though he was attempting to exude confidence, he was shaking noticeably and his stomach was churning. It made him nervous to be talking to a girl in such a manner.
"Oh, thank you," she smiled.
"I'll bet a girl like you certainly has more than her share of male admirers," he said.
"No, it really isn't like that at all. I have one steady boyfriend that I go with, and that's about it."
"Oh, I can hardly believe you'd restrict yourself like that."
"I don't consider it restricting myself," she snapped back defensively, a little surprised by the nature of his remark. "I just happen to like him, so that's it."
"Listen, if you're not in a real big hurry, how'd you like to go next door with me and have a cup of coffee? I owe myself a break about this time in the afternoon."
"No, thank you," she snapped. "I must be going. Thank you for your time and attention."
"Don't mention it," he said disappointedly.
He watched her walk out of the store. She never once looked back.
He slammed his fist angrily against the counter. Once more he had failed in his attempt to get better acquainted with a girl he liked.
He looked at the bill for the dress. It contained Midge Evans' address.
He looked at the address several times, seeing it over and over again until he committed it to memory.
She lived at fourteen twelve Rubio Street in Encino. He knew where that was situated. It was only about five blocks away.
The rest of the afternoon passed boringly. A few young girls came in and looked at dresses, but none of them seemed to know precisely what they wanted, and they all walked out of the store without making a purchase.
Just before closing time his boss, Harry Desmond, the owner of the store came prancing in with some new styles that he had personally picked up at a warehouse in downtown Los Angeles.
"I have found some wonderfully modern dresses," he grinned. "I'm certain you'll have a great deal of success in selling them."
"I sure hope so," Burt said.
"I think that they're absolutely delightful, if I do say so myself," he chuckled. "Of course, I did pick out every one of them, and I got some very good deals on them."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"My young man, your boss can be a very knowledgeable fellow when it comes to knowing just what the young ladies of today are looking for."
"Yes, you seem to be able to put your finger on the pulse."
"Thank you, you're such a delightful young man."
For the next half hour Harry Desmond unveiled his dresses for Burt.
He danced on his toes and clapped his hands with great anticipation as he showed every style.
His eyebrows danced and his fingers gestured with great excitement.
Even though Burt could not stand the sight of his boss, he knew how to placate him. He generally received favorable responses from Harry Desmond by praising him. The way to the man's heart, Burt had concluded a long time ago, was through his gigantic ego. "I am convinced, Burt my good fellow, that in time this shop will be one of the most successful in all of Southern California," Harry Desmond said.
"I can't see any reason why you can't be," Burt nodded.
"That's the spirit. That's the way I want my salesmen to think. Anyway, Burt, we're going to continue moving ahead. We're going to keep the competition on the run by constantly outsmarting them."
"If anybody can do it, you can."
"You're such a nice young man. I'm most appreciative of hearing you say things like that."
Closing time finally arrived. At that point Burt was happy to be able to get away from his boss.
"Would you care to have a cup of coffee with me next door?" Harry Desmond asked.
"No, thank you. I've really got to be going."
"Alright. Just make sure that you're here bright and early tomorrow morning. You know how the girls are on Saturday. So many of them get turned on with the idea of buying dresses."
"Yes. They don't have time to think about it the rest of the week, but the ideas often seem to hit on Saturday."
"Precisely," Harry Desmond nodded and laughed. "That is so true. So I'll see you tomorrow, young man."
"Goodnight, Mr. Desmond."
He watched the grey haired proprietor saunter out the front door.
"Goddamed fag," he muttered disgustedly.
A few minutes later he closed up the shop.
Burt generally closed up quickly, but tonight he took his time. He began wondering about whether he should follow through with his emotions regarding Midge Evans.
He thought about her in the nude. He imagined himself stripping her, then looking at those huge breasts.
Those big tits of hers hypnotized him, and the more he thought about them and about Midge, the wilder the thoughts that started entering his mind.
He recognized his inability to get along with the opposite sex. He got tongue tied all too easily in conversation. And even on those occasions when he didn't, it didn't seem to make all that much difference.
He realized that the gorgeous young girls like Midge, the ones to whom he was normally attracted, were looking for a lot more in life than a guy like himself who was slaving away making bare existence wages as a salesman in a dress shop.
He had to face the uncomfortable fact that he didn't have a whole lot to offer to a beautiful woman.
That did not necessarily mean, however, that he could not become involved with beautiful women. It just meant that he would have to use a different approach.
As he got into his Volkswagen and drove off, he decided to drive past fourteen twelve Rubio Street.
It was a small house in a middleclass residential section.
Two blocks away on either side, the houses picked up in value and style. Many of the society matrons and successful professional men of the Valley lived just a few blocks from Midge's residence. But the neighborhood where she lived was inhabited largely by working-class people.
As he drove past the house he observed a plain looking girl with brown hair and glasses opening the door and walking inside.
She appeared to be about Midge's age, in her late teens or early twenties.
"Must be her roommate," he said to himself.
As Burt drove home, the ideas began flitting through his brain.
He stopped at a hardware store which was just a few blocks from the apartment where he lived.
Burt bought a generous supply of nylon cord, then left the store.
When he arrived at his tiny apartment, he decided to take inventory.
He pulled out an old Halloween mask depicting a devil. He had worn it to a party one year earlier. As for the party, it had been a bust. Every girl that he attempted to talk to had shunned him after he had made an unfavorable impression with his stuttering and stammering. He had been nervous and it had shown up to his disadvantage.
But the Halloween mask would serve the purpose. Even the fact that it was a representation of a devil made it all the more symbolic.
The last item that he checked on was the revolver that he kept around the apartment just for safety purposes.
Burt was an insecure guy, and it made him feel better to know that he had a loaded revolver, around the apartment.
As he looked at the revolver, the mask, and cord, he decided that there was one thing that was missing. He needed a wig. He would take care of that after he fixed himself dinner.
He fixed himself a TV dinner, which he ate quickly. He then drove to a novelty store in downtown Reseda and purchased a blonde wig.
He decided that the wig would go perfectly with the mask.
Now he had all the equipment necessary to do the job. All it took from that point was guts, and he sincerely wondered whether he could summon up enough in the way of guts to sexually attack Midge Evans.
CHAPTER THREE
Burt Niles made it a point to study both Midge Evans' living habits along with those of her bespectacled roommate.
He followed Midge to school several times on his days off, then also made it a point to follow her roommate to work.
He discovered that the roommate worked as a dental laboratory assistant by day and attended school at Valley City College at night.
He finally decided to time his move with one evening that the roommate was gone to school.
He made his plans to that effect and decided to strike on a Tuesday evening, when he knew that the roommate would be gone between the hours of six-thirty and ten-thirty in the evening.
He was nervous throughout that entire day, and things did not go well in the shop. He knew that he had lost at least two sales based upon his inability to concentrate fully on his sales techniques, and felt that there were a few other lost possibilities that resulted from the same type of activity.
When he went home that evening he could barely eat, but he forced the food into his system.
His stomach was churning with great nervousness. He wondered if he had the courage to go through with it.
After dinner he looked at his watch. It was a few minutes before six. He thumbed through the newspaper nervously several times, but threw it down when he recognized that he was unable to concentrate on anything in it.
He walked nervously to his room and gathered together all of his necessary materials.
In addition to the revolver, mask, and cord, he also stuffed his trusty pocket knife into his pocket. He put an extra handkerchief into his back pocket, just in case he felt that he would need a gag.
He got into his Volkswagen and drove toward the house on Rubio that Midge Evans shared with her girlfriend.
Several times during his snooping expeditions, Burt observed with great distaste the arrival and departure of Midge's young boyfriend.
He observed, however, that all her dates took place either early in the week, such as a Monday or Tuesday, or over the weekend. He reasoned that she was using this particular evening for purposes of study.
He parked his car across the street from Midge's house and waited for her roommate to drive her car out of the driveway.
He looked at his watch and observed that at promptly six-thirty the roommate followed her general procedure.
"Everything right on schedule," he told himself.
Burt had even practiced disguising his voice. He had lived with an uncle for a while who had a Texas accent, and at one time he had been able to imitate the uncle's manner of speaking with great effectiveness.
He learned to imitate the uncle's manner of speaking again, and was planning to utilize the Texas accent as a means of throwing Midge off the track.
Burt watched the roommate's car drive off into the night. He put on the mask and the blonde wig, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked so ludicrous that, if he hadn't been so nervous, he would have been forced to burst into laughter.
The moment was too serious for laughter. He had a job to do, and felt that the moment for doing it was at hand.
Burt heaved a deep sigh then got out of the car. He felt inside his jacket pocket and found the handle of the revolver.
He closed his car door and observed his legs shaking and his heart palpitating wildly as he moved toward the door of the house.
By the time he reached the porch he was even more nervous. He heaved several deep sighs in an effort to throw off at least some of the tension.
He finally worked up enough courage to ring the doorbell.
Midge was studying in her bedroom. She had on the radio, listening to soft music while she absorbed her study materials.
The beautiful brunette was clad in a yellow blouse and plaid Bermuda shorts.
When she heard the doorbell, she reasoned immediately that her girlfriend had forgotten something. The roommate had locked the door when she left, as was her usual custom.
"I'll bet she forgot the key," Midge said as she got up from the bed and walked toward the door.
Midge recalled that the roommate had forgotten the key some two weeks earlier, and had remembered it after driving a few blocks.
She unlocked the door and promptly opened it.
She let out a gasp as she observed the strange sight before her. She wondered if it was all some kind of a gag, what with the mask and wig that the man was wearing.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a revolver. Midge was hoping that it was some kind of prank, but she feared that it might not be.
"Who is it?" she asked. "What do you want?"
"I'd like to come in," Burt's voice cracked somewhat nervously.
He used the Texas accent fairly successfully.
"What do you want?"
"I'll tell you after I get inside."
"Why are you picking on me?"
"Who says I'm picking on you? I just want you to let me in."
"Very well."
Her trembling left hand reached out and threw the door open, permitting him to enter the house.
As she observed him in the light, she noticed his fingers trembling.
The fact that he was nervous made Midge all the more fearful. After all, he was holding a revolver in his hand, and his grip at that particular moment was anything but steady.
"If you've got hospitality, you'll invite me into the bedroom," Burt said crisply.
Now that he was inside the house, he was beginning to gather a little bit of confidence. As he observed that beautiful face and form once more, his cock began throbbing with great anxiety.
Burt felt the abiding necessity to have wild sex with this young woman.
He resented the fact that she had turned down his offer of friendship. He had thought so much of her, whereas he meant nothing to her.
"Is this really all on the level?" she asked.
Midge knew a number of fraternity boys from college, and was hoping that this was really some kind of wild stunt concocted by one or several of them.
"Look, I am trying to be diplomatic," Burt said angrily. "But you're not giving me much of a chance. Now let's go into the bedroom and I mean right now. You play any tricks with me, you fair haired little beautiful bitch, and I'll blow your brains out."
At that point, when she heard the full booming intensity of his voice, she recognized that there was no prank involved. She was definitely dealing with a man who was being totally serious.
"Alright, come with me," she said in a hushed tone.
"And you'd better not try any funny business, because before you could succeed, I'd blow your fool head off," he threatened.
"I won't try anything."
"You'd just better not."
He walked behind her as she moved towards the bedroom.
Now it was Midge who was doing most of the trembling as Burt, fortified by the fact that he had made it into the house and the bedroom, and by virtue of the fact that he was holding a revolver on her, was undergoing a calming influence.
"O.K., now I want you to take off those clothes," he said crisply. "I don't want any nonsense about it at all. I want you to get the clothes off, every solitary stitch. Besides, a girl with the equipment you've got shouldn't be wearing clothes anyway. It ought to be against the law for your kind of woman to wear clothes. You ought to be naked all the time."
"You certainly have a foul mouth," she said, deeply resenting his attitude.
"You make about one more crack like that and you're going to get a bullet through your head."
Midge permitted her trembling fingers to work their way down toward her blouse. Burt's eyes widened with great interest as she pulled the blouse over her head.
As she discarded the blouse, throwing it on the floor, he got a much better look at those beautiful breasts, which were now covered with nothing more than her bra.
She stood there woodenly, not wanting to cooperate any more than she had to. She was hoping that he would permit her to stop her undressing act at that point.
"Just what in the hell are you waiting for?"
he said with a tone of indignance. "I said get everything off, and that's exactly what I mean. Now get that bra off. I want to see those naked tits, and then I want to see the rest of you naked."
His heart began throbbing with expectation as she reached behind her and began to unhook her bra.
It had been her breasts that he had admired in the first place, and now that he would soon be seeing them in all their fleshy glory, he could hardly wait.
When she unveiled those two jutting ivory melons, his cock thrust out inside his trousers with such excitement that he felt to orgasm.
"Damned, but you've got a pair of tits on you," he exclaimed. "I can hardly wait to reach out and touch them. They look so damned firm. Just wait until my fingers go to work on them."
She stood there with an embarrassed expression on her face. She didn't like the idea at all of stripping for this masked intruder.
"O.K., just because you stripped down to your waist, I don't expect you to stop there," he said. "Now let's finish the job. Let's get off those shorts. I want you completely nude, baby, and that means with not as much as a stitch on."
With great reluctance she removed her Bermuda shorts, stepping out of them and revealing more of her beautiful form.
He was able to remove his eyes from her breasts long enough to size up her long, sleek legs, appreciatively.
"You've got a nice set of legs too, honey, you're really built," he said. "Now all you've got to do is take off those panties of yours. Then you'll be completely naked, just the way that I want to see you."
Her lovely body wiggled from side to side as she slipped the silky panties down her legs.
When she finally stepped out of them and he saw her in the buff, he became so excited that he could barely speak.
After the initial period of excitement subsided, he exclaimed: "O.K., honey, now just lie down on your stomach in the middle of that bed. I want you to move real slow, and just lie there once you hit the bed. I want you to close your eyes and relax. I'll take care of everything."
Thoroughly intimidated by the revolver he held on her, coupled with his surly, businesslike manner, she complied with his request.
As she lay stiffly on her stomach, wondering what his next move would be, he whipped the cord out of his pocket and walked toward the bed.
As she lay still, he slipped the revolver temporarily back into his pocket and bound her legs together tightly, tying them in a firm square knot.
He then moved toward her hands, doing the same thing.
He felt a great deal of relief after he had succeeded in tying her feet and hands.
"Now I'm going to turn this beautiful body over and have me some fun," he chuckled.
He put the revolver in his pocket and grabbed her by the shoulders, twisting her body around until she was lying on her back.
"Just remember that this revolver is in my pocket, sweetie," he solemnly warned her. "If you make so much as a sound, you're going to be dead before you even know it. You understand?"
"Yes," was her almost inaudible reply.
"That's good. Maybe we understand each other a little better now."
Burt leered at her momentarily. He was contemplating his first move.
CHAPTER FOUR
His thoughts remained dominated by those huge, voluptuous tits.
"They look like a couple of nice ripe melons," he laughed as he reached out with both hands and ran his fingers over the solid globes.
Burt was impressed with the solidness of the breasts. He enjoyed toying with them with his fingers, running them over her breasts and her nipples.
After allowing his fingers to work on her breasts and nipples for a few minutes, Burt decided that it was time to move on to something else.
He wanted to put his tongue to work on those lovely boobs.
He looked down at his victim and was angered by the sight on her face.
She reflected a combination of fear and disgust. Midge obviously hated the situation in which she was involved, and realizing that made him angry.
"You don't think I'm good for you, you don't think I'm good enough," he said disgustedly. "Gals like you with superiority complexes give me a pain in the ass. You give me a pain all the way up to my rosy red rectum, you bitch. I'll bet you spread your legs for your boyfriend any time that he asks you to."
At that point he surprised himself by slapping her across the face with his right hand.
The hand landed with crackling force against her face. It gave him a tremendous feeling of authority and strength to know that he had been able to exercise such brutality. The thing that had bothered him prior to attempting to carry out his plan was the possibility that he would not be able to get tough with his victim when circumstances dictated it.
She began sobbing ever so slightly after he slapped her face.
She reached out and rubbed the reddened skin gently.
"Oh, I guess I hurt you," he said sarcastically. "I'm real sorry for you, sweetheart, I really am."
He let his hot red tongue go anxiously to work on her right breast.
He enjoyed the sensations attached to allowing his tongue to lap zealously away on her solid female flesh.
Every time that he slid his tongue over that warm, firm globelike surface, he thought about how much he had enjoyed licking lollipops as a very young boy. That was the only thing that he could recall that came close to approximating the delightful sensations he felt from running his tongue over her breasts.
The longer that he put his tongue to work, the faster that his movements became. As he lapped back and forth, then up and down, on that breast of hers, he felt a stirring hunger that transmitted itself through his loins.
He could feel the heat rising in his cock and balls. He could sense from the way that things were going that his scrotum was bulging and inflating with his hungry anxiety instincts governing them.
After he had been sliding the tongue around her breasts for quite some time, and had succeeded in leaving it covered with saliva, he switched his tongue movements over to her other breast.
Once more his tongue went to work with great excitement, experiencing wonderful sensations from allowing it to make steady brisk contact with her breasts.
Once he finished with his licking, he desired to go even further in his fascinating breast foray.
He permitted his teeth to nibble on her nipple. At first he did it gently, but soon the desire surfaced within him to hurt her.
He began biting hard on her nipple, then followed the same procedure on the rest of her breast.
After he had bitten her several times, Midge felt the necessity of crying out.
"Ouch, you're hurting me," she gasped.
"Shut up and stop complaining," he told her impatiently. "Or there's going to be real trouble. I'm here to have fun, and nothing is going to stop me. If you give me any guff, it's just going to be skin off your beautiful hide. And I mean that both literally and figuratively."
He continued to gnaw on her breast until he left it red and raw. He almost had to chuckle when he observed the teeth marks that he had imprinted on her skin.
Burt then quickly switched his movements to her other breast, repeating them in every detail. For a while he would work his teeth penetratingly against her breast, then would go to work on her nipple.
If anything, he gave her right breast an even worse going over than he had her left.
By the time he finished, her breasts were sore from the punishing efforts he had put forth.
"Never let it be said that I'm not a tit man," he laughed. "I really love those beautiful boobs of yours, honey. They really do a lot for me."
He realized during the course of time he spent punishing her breasts that he enjoyed the sadistic elements of sexual activity better than any other kind.
Even though his cock and balls had become greatly agitated while he sucked her breasts, he derived his greatest excitement from chewing on them.
Burt also recalled how excited he had become when he slapped her face.
He was beginning to see himself in a new role. He was a forsaken man who was getting even with cock eating young women like Midge who wouldn't have anything to do with him.
He was teaching them a lesson on behalf of himself and other men throughout the world like him.
He decided to slap her once more, so he reached out with his right hand and delivered another crackling slap which caught her on the side of the face.
She trembled and cringed with fear after the hand landed.
"You sure don't like to get hit, do you?" he chuckled.
"Does anybody?" she asked softly.
"Maybe not, maybe so. Maybe some people do. Maybe you'll learn to like getting hit by the time I get through with you."
His throbbing cock was dancing around excitedly inside his shorts.
Burt desired to remove that cock from his trousers and give it some needed freedom.
While his helpless victim watched, he unzipped his trousers and reached inside them, pulling out his huge rod.
"I'll say this for you, you sure have what it takes to get me excited," he quipped, holding the prick proudly in his fingers. "Just take a look at the size of this thing, baby. I'm going to do plenty to you with it. I'm going to really show you who's boss, and I'm going to do it with this hard dick. There's nothing like a big dick to bring a woman down to earth fast. I'll bet your boyfriend never takes charge of you like I'm doing right now, and like I'm going to continue to do until I leave this place."
He ran his fingers proudly up and down his long prick for several seconds.
He then decided that it was time to put that bulging rod of his to work.
Burt did not want to orgasm prematurely. He was in seventh heaven, and he knew that he had plenty of time to complete his activities before the girlfriend and roommate would arrive home.
Even though he had a desire to placate his torrid passions, he decided against fully yielding to them.
If he let things develop gradually, he told himself that he would have much more fun in the final analysis.
He slid his body over her limp form.
He allowed his hard dick to begin sliding over her right breast.
The tit was so firm and smooth that he considered the stimulating friction better than a pussy fuck from a less endowed girl.
His hips flailed excitedly as his prick drew itself back and forth in rapid-fire movements.
"I really like this action," he gasped, "you've really got the tits for something like this. I love fucking them with my big cock. You don't know how good this makes me feel, sweetheart. Maybe this whole thing is misery for you because you've got some kind of a sex hangup, but to me it couldn't be any better."
The longer that he slid his hard prick up and down over her breasts, the more excited he became all over his body.
His movements became rhythmic, whereas in the beginning they had been somewhat jerky based upon the tense excitement that he had felt.
"I'm really getting good at this," he exclaimed with a smile.
CHAPTER FIVE
The faster that Burt moved his cock up and down her breasts, the hotter he became.
He moved his hands down to her asscheeks, Which he fingered with conscientious care.
"My, but you've got cute asscheeks," he exclaimed. "I sure love running my fingers around them. Boy I really dig it, I really do."
Midge hated everything that this brutal character with the Texas accent represented.
He was manhandling her in a crude fashion, and she only wished that she had been in a different position, one in which she could somehow get away.
He kept up the tit fucking until he recognized that he could not continue without running the risk of orgasming right then and there.
He didn't want to orgasm that way. He wanted to do it in another fashion.
He finally removed his cock from her right breast, the one he had been fucking last.
He contemplated momentarily what his next course of action should be. He finally came to a conclusion.
"Now you're going to get something that I'll bet your boyfriend doesn't give you," he laughed. "You need a guy like me, somebody with a little bit of experience, to show you the ropes about sex."
He looked down at his cock. He was very proud of the fact that it was that long and hard.
It was all set to penetrate her again. He allowed the fingers of his right hand to work up and down the base of that lengthy rod as he prepared his next onslaught.
He removed his fingers from his prick and moved his hard dick rigidly forward.
"Open that mouth, baby, if you know what's good for you," he said threateningly.
It made him feel good to bark orders sharply to this beautiful girl. After all, he would never be able to forget that she had turned him down when he had asked her to join him for a cup of coffee.
She opened her mouth, afraid that he would go for his revolver if she didn't.
"Gangway, sweetheart, because my cock is going to be shoving down your throat," he told her.
He stabbed his hot prick resolutely inside her mouth.
He wasted no time in going to work in the fastest manner possible. That meant shoving his penis deeply into her mouth, giving her a violent throat fuck for her troubles.
She had never been subjected to sex of that type. She had never even sucked a man's cock prior to that time.
Her boyfriend had gone down on her, sucking out her vagina on numerous occasions. And on several occasions she had allowed him the liberty of fucking her cunt, but never had she consented to blowing her friend.
Here was a man who was not only forcing his cock into her mouth. He was shoving it all the way to the base of her throat, flinging it into her with savage excitement.
With resolute skill, he kept on shoving it deeply inside her mouth.
Midge could scarcely breathe as he thoroughly dominated her with that flaming stick, that bulging pecker which he slammed relentlessly inside her mouth.
"What sensations I'm getting," he chuckled boyishly. "This is really living. There's nothing like stabbing your hard cock inside a girl's mouth. I really love this, I really do, it's the only way to fly."
His ass and hips moved into high gear as he accelerated the tempo of his blazing pace.
He had not been slow by any manner of means before. It was just that he was moving even more quickly now.
Back and forth he would send that surging dick. Every time that he shoved it forward, he seemed to thrust it ever deeper into her mouth.
She was left barely able to gasp as he flooded her throat with his rapier movements.
Back and forth he continued to drill that prong savagely. The faster that he let his cock go, the closer he found himself drawing to orgasm.
When he saw her face contorted with pain from the activities with which he was providing her, it made him very angry.
He reached out and slapped her across the face several times.
He enjoyed the ringing sound of skin cracking against skin.
Her skin reddened all the more under the attacks to which he subjected her.
He finally decided to reach out and grab her hair.
Burt grabbed a hold of her hair and pulled on it hard as he kept on slamming his dick into her mouth.
"This is the ticket," he laughed, "this is the kind of action that I really dig. I like pulling your hair while I'm ramming this prick into your mouth."
Back and forth he continued to diligently stab that penis into her.
Now he could feel himself drawing ever closer to the big moment of climax.
It was helping also to tug on her hair simultaneously while he rammed his dick into her.
He liked the extra thrills with which he was supplying himself.
With breakneck speed he worked himself that much closer toward climax.
Now he was beginning to gasp and sigh from the efforts he was directing with his prick into her mouth.
"I can't take much more of this," he sighed. "It's got me too damned hot. Oh, this is really something, I like this flaming rod. I really like it, and I like the way I'm stabbing it inside your mouth."
Several stabs later he was unable to withhold his orgasm any longer.
He had fucked her in just the way he had intended to. Burt had wanted to sustain things, to work himself gradually into the blazing moment of truth when the loads of white juice would shoot like a geyser out of the end of his swollen organ.
"Oh, this is it, catch my juice, you little bitch, you've never had this kind of fuck before, I'm willing to bet, so you'd better enjoy it, eat it, eat my dick, eat my load," he sighed.
He watched with great exhilaration as the white floodtide of semen spilled out of the end of his blazing stick.
She was forced to gobble down the thick droplets of cum, even though some of them rolled out of the side of her mouth.
It was a whale of a load, one that he was very proud of.
It had been a long time between fucks, and he had been saving himself for some time for just the right girl.
But Burt never dreamed that he would be shooting off his cock inside the mouth of anybody as beautiful as young Midge Evans.
Her face had turned pale by the time that he released his cock from it.
The manner in which he had brutally pulled her hair had hurt her, as had those forceful stabs of his aroused and nervous penis inside her mouth.
When he studied that pained expression on her face once more, it made him so angry that he wanted to hurt her.
Burt wanted conditions to be ideal. He wanted his partner in the act of lovemaking to enjoy him as much as he was enjoying her.
He could see that conditions were far from ideal in that respect. Instead of enjoying his advances, Burt was readily able to see that she detested them.
"You really don't like me, do you?" he asked.
"No, I think you're a very nice man," she said fearfully.
"Sure. You say that because you figure that if you don't I'll blow your head off. Isn't that about it?"
She turned her head away and said nothing. "Yeah, sure, that's it," he nodded. "You really hate my guts. I'll just bet you think I'm some kind of a freak. Isn't that right?"
"No," she whispered.
"You goddam little liar."
He turned on her quickly, giving her a backhanded slap that caught her on the upper lip.
He observed the blood beginning to spurt, and she instantly threw her hand up to protect her injured lip.
He observed the tears falling from her eyes, and he saw detectable swelling on her upper lip.
"Bawl your fool head off, baby, just bawl," he said sarcastically. "But just make sure you don't make any noise."
He reached into his pants pocket and took out a clean white handkerchief.
Burt decided that the time had come to gag his victim. He could not take any chances on her making a lot of noise and alerting neighbors to the fact that something strange was going on in her house.
As a precautionary measure he threw the handkerchief around her mouth.
"I don't really trust you," he said curtly. "As you can tell by what I'm going to do right now."
He tightened the gag around her mouth, then tied it.
He removed his fingers from the handkerchief and felt a lot more content about things.
There were still a few things that he had to take care of before his trip could be considered an unqualified success.
Now that he had her in a completely powerless spot, where she could not as much as utter a sound, he was ready to teach her the lesson that he felt she so richly deserved.
If anybody deserved a beating, he thought, this brash young girl did.
Burt was determined to show her that she could not snub him and get away with it. Nor could she suffer through an act of sex with him without having to pay the sternest consequences.
He clenched his left fist and sent it against the side of her head.
The blow landed near her temple, jarring her with savage impact.
He felt himself getting immediately hard. With trembling fingers he reached down and grabbed his cock with his free right hand.
His left hand went to work clubbing her on the side of the head repeatedly.
Now he was a man possessed, hitting her as the blood began to spurt.
He opened a cut on the side of her head, then began pummeling her just below the eye, where he promptly opened up another cut.
Watching the blood spurt and clubbing her with his fist got him so hot that he could barely stand it.
He began to jerk frantically on his dick, moving close to an orgasm.
After opening the second cut, the one just below her eye, he heaved a sigh and watched as the juice spurted out of his dick.
He threw his body forward and saw to it that some of the spurting white juice hit her in the face.
"Take that, you slimy little broad," he said.
Burt was happy that he had achieved revenge, but he wasn't quite ready to stop yet.
He had received two enjoyable orgasms, but needed a dramatic finishing touch to polish off his visit to her house.
Burt sat there and thought momentarily, attempting to contemplate just what would be the appropriate act.
His eyes lit up as an idea struck him.
He got up from the bed and bent over, picking up her discarded bra, which she had tossed on the floor when she was stripping at his command.
A bloody and battered Midge Evans looked at her assailant, wondering what he would do next.
He held the bra in his hand, looking inside the cup to observe the size of the bra.
"My, but you've got nice tits," he chuckled. "So you wear a thirty-eight C, hunh ? Well, I've got just the thing in mind for you."
Midge knew from the very moment from the sadistic smile spread across his face that she was in for more trouble.
She watched with great fear as he pulled a pocket knife out of his back pocket.
He opened the knife and she grimaced, clearly expecting the worst from him.
"Think I'll carve a nice little message," he chuckled as he got back on the bed.
He let the knife plunge downward toward her left breast and carved a number three on it.
Burt chuckled as he observed the trail of blood and the number three which he had systematically carved.
"Now I'll just have to put an eight on your other tit," he laughed. "Then we'll have your tit size on your tits."
Once more he burst into loud laughter, thoroughly enjoying the sadistic game he was playing.
Burt then carved an eight on her left breast.
The knife hurt her so much that the tears of pain were streaming down her cheeks.
He got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, washing off the pocket knife and putting it back into his back pocket.
Burt walked into the bedroom to have a last word with his victim.
"Sayonara, sweetheart, and glad we could get together," he said in the booming Texas accent that he had used for the occasion.
He turned and walked out of the house.
He looked around on both sides and could observe no one in the darkness.
He walked briskly toward his car, getting in and driving off.
He smiled contentedly as he drove away, convinced that his first effort as a rapist had been an enormous success.
CHAPTER SIX
It was just a few minutes before eleven when a bored Sergeant Mike Casey answered the insistent jingle of the telephone.
It had been a boring evening, and he tossed aside the crossword puzzle he had been tackling for the last half hour.
"Hello, Casey speaking," he said tersely. "I see. Yes. Yes."
His eyebrows turned up with attentiveness.
He listened for several more seconds.
"We'll be there, we'll be right there," he said.
Casey jumped up from his chair and walked over toward the closet, getting out his coat and slipping it on.
The young detective then walked out in the hall to search for his senior officer.
Lieutenant Dan Bitterman was standing at the water cooler talking baseball with two uniformed officers.
"The Dodgers have been going on about their pitching staff," Bitterman said, "but they've been giving up a few too many runs in the last few games to suit me."
"Yeah, they're going to have to cut out that kind of nonsense," one of the officers said.
"They're going to have to start doing something else too," Bitterman said.
"What's that?" the second officer asked.
"They're going to have to start scoring some more runs."
"I think we can all agree on that," one of the officers smiled.
Mike Casey spotted Bitterman, stepping eagerly toward him.
"Dan, we've got a case to go out on," Casey called out to him.
"What's it all about?"
"A girl just called from the Valley."
"About what?"
"She was real delirious. She came home from school and found her girlfriend beaten up pretty bad."
"How serious do you think it is?"
"The poor girl's able to talk. But the roommate found her tied up when she came home."
"Let's go," Lieutenant Bitterman nodded. "We'll have to postpone the rest of the baseball conversation until later, fellows."
Midge's roommate let the two officers in as they arrived a few minutes later.
Bitterman trained his professional eyes on the living room as he walked in.
"She's in the bedroom," the roommate pointed. "She's lying down and resting. She can hardly talk, and I'm not much better off."
The girlfriend was trembling noticeably, and her eyes were red with tears as she led the two officers into the bedroom.
A battered and shaken Midge Evans was lying in bed in her bathrobe.
"It looks like you've been cut pretty bad," Sergeant Casey said.
"You'd better call an ambulance, Mike," Bitterman said.
"No, I'll be alright," Midge Evans said. "Please. Please don't."
"It's for your own good," Casey said.
"But it's so humiliating," Midge burst into tears. "It's terrible being raped by a madman like this."
Bitterman calmly took a pad out of his inside coat pocket.
"May I have your name please, young lady?" he looked directly at Midge.
"Midge. Midge Evans."
He nodded as he jotted down the name.
"Can you describe this man?"
"He was wearing a mask. A mask and a wig. And he had a gun."
"Did you try and resist?" Casey asked.
"No. He kept the gun on me and forced me to lie down. Then he tied me up. But please don't call the ambulance."
"They must," the roommate burst in.
"What's your name?" Bitterman asked.
"Elaine Corgin."
Bitterman jotted down Elaine Corgin's name, along with a few notes describing the manner in which she was acting. He also jotted down some information concerning his impressions of Midge Evans in her tortured state.
"You're hurt bad, honey," Elaine said. "I should have called the ambulance myself. But who can think properly when they're feeling this way?"
"Casey, take care of that right now," Lieutenant Bitterman said.
"I'm so humiliated," Midge began sobbing hysterically, pounding her clenched fist helplessly on the bed.
"There's nothing to be humiliated about, Midge," Bitterman did his best to calm her down. "You didn't solicit this attack. This beast just came in and forced himself on you."
"But he slit my breasts," she shrieked.
"That's nothing to be ashamed of," Elaine said.
"It was so terrible," she looked at Lieutenant Bitterman and said. "He carved a three on one breast and an eight on the other."
"I wonder what that's supposed to signify?"
"He told me. He said that he wanted to write the size of my bra on my breasts. He looked in my bra and that's how he found out."
"My God," Bitterman said in little more than a whisper, shaking his head as he recorded some more notes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It made Burt Niles feel like he had accomplished something when he heard about the rape of Midge Evans on the local television news and read about it in the newspapers.
He wondered whether he ought to attempt another attack of that sort, and if so, when it should come about.
Burt thought about driving about more often in his automobile on his days off. That way he could look for prospective victims.
But he did not get aroused again until two weeks after his brutal attack on Midge.
It was a busy Saturday afternoon and Harry Desmond was assisting Burt in selling the dresses.
Burt had just made a sale when he observed a familiar face come sauntering through the front door.
She was an overpoweringly lovely young blonde with an innocent look in her limpid blue eyes.
She wore a tight brown skirt that showed off her hips and legs to exquisite advantage, but it was her overpoweringly gorgeous breasts that first attracted Burt's attention.
The blue blouse she wore showed off her curves to excellent advantage.
He observed carefully the sleek lines of those breasts, which looked firm and perhaps even larger than those of Midge Evans.
His cock immediately hardened with anxiety, and he wished that circumstances were a little different and he had this beautiful girl alone in his bedroom.
As his last customer received her change and walked off with her purchase, Burt craned his neck and observed that Harry Desmond was already waiting on someone. A very talkative older woman was chattering feverishly with him.
He was happy that he would be able to wait on this beautiful young girl.
Burt moved quickly toward her, but made certain that he didn't walk too fast. He had to avoid appearing too anxious for appearances sake.
"Good afternoon, young lady," he greeted her with a friendly smile.
"Why, hello," she smiled back accommodatingly. "Yes, I know your name. Let's see, you're Mr. Niles. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, it is."
"I came in at the end of the summer. I opened up a charge account here."
"Of course," he nodded. "I remember very well. Now, let's see. I think your name is Cathy, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
"Well, it's good to see you again, Cathy. How are things going?"
"Well, I'm in my first semester at the college down the street."
"How are things going in college?"
"It's hard," she frowned. "I'm having a little trouble adjusting. It's a lot more difficult than high school. You'd better believe that."
"I suppose it is. As for me, I ain't never got beyond high school, even though I thought about going to college."
"You should go back."
"Oh, I'm afraid it's too late."
"They have a night program where I go at Valley City College."
"I'll leave that to more ambitious people," he laughed." I guess my lot in life is that of being a dress salesman, which really isn't that bad, considering that I get to wait on charming girls like you."
"How nice of you to say," she chuckled. He eyed her approvingly. He was getting ideas.
"Can I help you with anything?"
"As a matter of fact, I think you can," she nodded.
Things were beginning to look up, he thought. He had a beautiful young girl to wait on.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Burt showed young Cathy dresses, he found himself getting completely carried away with her.
He was even more aroused by this nubile young blonde than he had been by Midge Evans.
The basic difference was that with Midge he had been a little more restrained since his confidence had not reached the point that it was the afternoon that he encountered Cathy.
With Midge he had still been very diffident about getting involved in sex, but with his triumph under his belt, he now felt a new surge in strength and confidence.
He showed her several dresses and eventually she located the one that she wanted.
"Yes, I like this one very much,' she said.
"Would you like to try it on?"
"I certainly would."
"I have a hunch it just might fit you without any alterations."
"I'll soon find out."
He waited for her to try on the dress and return.
As he watched her walking toward him in that beautiful aqua blue dress she was wearing, his cock bulged with great excitement.
"It couldn't fit you any better," he said, observing the way that her voluptuous lines admirably filled in every inch of material.
"I'm very pleased."
"You certainly should be."
"I'll take it."
"Fine," he smiled.
She was in a jubilant mood as she changed back to her other outfit and allowed Burt to wrap up the dress.
He placed it neatly in a box for her, and handed it to her from behind the counter.
Cathy Norris then handed her charge plate to him.
He stamped the charge plate on the bill of sale, then handed her her copy. He retained the carbon, which he slipped into the cash register. "Thank you," he said.
"And thank you. You were very patient. I'm one of these girls who likes to browse quite a bit."
"You didn't browse that much. You're a girl who knows what she wants. Once you'd found the dress that was suitable for you, you grabbed it."
"I'm quite delighted about it. My boyfriend will be very happy when he sees me in it."
His heart began thumping nervously when she mentioned her boyfriend.
It made him bitter to hear her talking about another man. He wanted her for his very own, but knew that he could not possibly attain her.
He watched her as she walked out of the store with the box under her right arm.
He thought about Cathy Norris through the rest of the day.
As soon as closing time emerged, he thumbed through the day's receipts in the cash register and came across the carbon of Cathy's bill of sale.
He slipped it into his pocket while Harry Desmond was preoccupied with other matters.
He decided that he would drive out to see where she lived.
Once he finished taking inventory for the day, he was anxious to leave the store.
"Would you care to go out with me and have a few drinks tonight?" Harry Desmond asked in his high pitched voice.
"No, thanks, I've got a date," he lied.
"Oh, how unfortunate. We could have had such a good time together."
"Yeah, that's the breaks," he said in a half groan.
He walked toward the door. "Goodnight, see you Monday," he said. "Have a nice weekend, Burt," Harry Desmond said.
As he walked toward his car, he mumbled under his breath: "Damned fag. He just won't leave me alone."
Burt got into his car and drove toward Cathy Norris' home.
She lived in a comfortable middleclass section of Sherman Oaks. The house in which she lived was situated just south of Ventura Boulevard, near the foothills where the more expensive homes in Sherman Oaks were located.
As he drove past, he observed a middle aged man sitting on the porch reading a newspaper. He wore glasses and his hair was graying.
Burt parked his car near the end of the block, directly across the street where Cathy Norris lived.
He observed the sight of the man sitting on the porch through his rear view mirror.
A few minutes later, just as he was taking his first puff on a cigarette, he noticed a yellow Jaguar stopping in front of the house.
A tall young man in a brown suit got out of the car and walked briskly down the sidewalk toward the house.
The man looked up from his newspaper and got up from the chair.
He shook hands with the young man, who walked inside the house.
A few minutes later the young man walked out hand in hand with lovely Cathy.
A sour taste surfaced in his mouth as Burt observed that Cathy had on the same lovely new dress that she had purchased from him earlier that day.
"So she digs a young punk like that," he said to himself sarcastically. "These dumb broads just don't have any class. What she needs is a guy with a little know-how, somebody who could teach her a little something about sex."
They spoke briefly to the man, who waved to them as they got into the car.
As they were driving off, a heavy set woman with light brown hair came out on the porch. She appeared to be in her early forties, and began talking to the man.
Burt started up his car and drove off, going home.
He got drunk in the privacy of his small bachelor apartment that evening.
He wolfed down almost a fifth of bourbon, and capped the evening by watching a mystery on the Late Show.
When the film ended, he shut off the set and walked into the bedroom.
Even though he was ridiculously drunk, and felt a little on the groggy side, his cock and balls got agitated when he started thinking about Cathy Norris.
At first a feeling of anger surfaced within him as he thought about her leaving her house with the young man in the Jaguar.
But after the anger drifted away, he began to think about her in an erotic light.
He focused his mind on those beautiful huge breasts, and thought about how wonderful it would be to run his tongue and cock over it as he had in the case of Midge Evans.
"What tits, what gloriously wonderful tits," he laughed as he entered the bedroom.
He jerked off his trousers quickly, then observed the huge bulge in his shorts.
Burt reached down and pulled his peter out of his shorts.
"Look at the big boy I've got here," he said to himself, laughing drunkenly.
He pulled up and down on his big dick with great enthusiasm. He thoroughly enjoyed the idea of being that hard, and he only wished that he had young Cathy there to help him enjoy his situation.
When he reached the point where he was jerking so hard that he knew he had to shoot off his rocks shortly, he strode into the bathroom.
He stood over the toilet bowl as he ran his fingers up and down his bulging rod.
Burt closed his eyes and envisioned the glories of shooting off his huge pecker.
Thoughts of Cathy lying naked in bed flashed in his mind.
Up and down he continued to pump until the juice finally spurted out of the end of his dick.
At that point he went to bed.
He was at peace with himself for the time being. At the moment that he shot he made a firm commitment.
Burt would see to it that young Cathy Norris became his second victim.
CHAPTER NINE
A conscientious Burt Niles spent the next two weeks casing Cathy' Norris' home.
He found out, just as he had expected, that the man and the woman he had seen on the porch that first evening was her mother and father.
She was an only child who lived at home with them.
To his great joy, Burt discovered that on Monday night Cathy was at home alone for a two hour stretch.
Between eight and ten neither her father nor her mother was there.
The mother left a few minutes after six to attend a women's club meeting, after which she did not return home until ten.
As for Mr. Norris, Monday constituted his bowling night, his evening out with the boys. He would leave the house at eight, or a few minutes prior to it and drive to the bowling alley. He would bowl for approximately two hours, then enjoy a few beers and laughs with his male friends in the bowling alley bar. He generally did not return home until eleven.
Burt, as a consequence of what he had discovered from his personal investigation, decided to strike at eight o'clock on a Monday evening.
He waited in his car, which was parked at the end of the block across the street from the Norris home.
He had all of the necessary equipment with him, and once again he found himself nervous, although not nearly as much as he had been on the first occasion when he had attacked Midge Evans.
When he arrived on the scene, Cathy's mother had been gone for better than an hour.
He waited impatiently for Mr. Norris to get into his car and drive away.
At fifteen minutes to eight, Mr. Norris walked out of the house.
Burt watched carefully as he got into his car and drove away.
Burt immediately stamped out his cigarette in the ash tray, then heaved a deep sigh.
He got out of the car and closed the door, walking quickly toward the Norris residence.
He saw a light on in the living room, and his heart began to pound all the more excitedly as he neared the front door.
Burt told himself to calm down. He attempted to silently reassure himself that everything would go according to plan. After all, he had one successful rape under his belt.
He rapped solidly on the front door.
Burt immediately heard footsteps moving toward the door.
As his heart began racing, he slipped on his mask and wig and waited for her to open the door.
He slipped, his right hand into his coat pocket, where he felt the handle of his trusty revolver. It made him feel a little more confident to be touching his enforcement weapon.
Cathy opened the door.
"Who is it?" she said, her calm voice indicating that she had not sized up the situation.
It was very dark, and furthermore the porch light was not on.
The moment that Cathy switched on the porch light, she got her first terrifying look at Burt.
Her eyes mushroomed with horror, and she looked like she was just about ready to scream. Burt quickly threw his left hand over her mouth and simultaneously used his right hand to pull his revolver out of his pocket.
"You make one sound and you're going to be a dead girl," he said. "Now, I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth and I'm going to go inside the house with you."
Her body froze up and her knees began shaking.
She remained silent as he slowly but surely withdrew his hand from her mouth.
His right hand continued to hold on tightly to his weapon.
Burt entered the house and closed the door behind him.
"Now, you're going to be the attentive little hostess and show me into the bedroom," he barked authoritatively in his best phony Texas accent.
She nodded, walking slowly toward the bedroom as he followed behind her.
"And no funny business, not one damned bit, otherwise I'll plug you right in the back," he warned her.
They entered the darkened bedroom.
"Flick on that light, baby," he demanded.
Cathy quickly turned on the bedroom light.
"Now I want you to strip for me," he said.
"Look, Mister, I don't know who you are," she pleaded with tears in her eyes, "but I sure wish you'd leave me alone. Please give a young girl a break. I'm only eighteen years old, just a kid. Wouldn't you really like a more experienced woman? A man like you wouldn't want somebody like me. You'd want some woman who's been around a lot more."
"You just let me be the judge of that, huh? You're wrong, baby. As a matter of fact, the fact that you're so nice and young makes you pretty hot stuff. It means that you haven't been picked over, and that's something I like."
"But please. I'm a virgin."
"A gorgeous chick like you with a body like that?" he laughed. "You must think I'm awfully stupid, and I don't like having my intelligence insulted."
"I'm not insulting it at all," she told him. "It's the truth. Just because I might be good looking and have a good figure doesn't necessarily mean that I've played around."
"But I just can't see how a chick like you could remain a virgin up to eighteen. It sure as hell doesn't say much for the guys you've been going with."
"The young man I'm going with is a gentleman. He's thinking about marrying me, and even though we're emotionally drawn toward each other, we don't feel it would be appropriate for us to express ourselves sexually at this time."
"You're an absolute riot," he chuckled. "I really can't believe that you're as naive as you sound. You've got to be putting on some kind of an act, and I don't like broads who try and string me along."
"But I'm not. I'm telling you the absolute truth."
"No fooling?"
"Honestly."
"Well, that's really something. It makes me all the more determined to have sex with you. You need a guy who's been around to show you the ropes a little, and I'm just that guy."
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"I'm not going to answer any more of your fool questions," he snapped impatiently. "Now get those damned clothes off before I lose my patience and let my finger get itchy. All it has to do is get itchy once, and you've had it."
Despite her fear of having sex with this stranger, Cathy recognized that he meant business. Whether she liked it or not, she concluded, she would have to strip for him.
He watched with surging interest as she got out of her blouse and slacks.
As he observed her in her panties and bra, his cock felt like concrete as it rubbed against his shorts.
"Think I'll give this big dick of mine some freedom," he chuckled.
She watched with shock as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his hard rod.
Her eyes stared at his swollen instrument, which was eager to put itself into vigorous movement.
"You like the looks of that cock?" he asked with a lewd grin.
She turned her head away with great embarrassment.
"Oh my, now you're playing the role of the crushed young virgin," he chided her. "You know, just maybe you are telling me the truth. Just maybe you are a virgin after all."
He reached down with his anxious fingers and toyed with his balls.
Burt could tell from the way his balls were bulging and inflating that he was getting extremely hot.
The hotter he became, the more eager he was to come into contact with her beautiful body.
But first she would have to finish stripping, and he was anxious to see that she did so right away.
"Now finish the job of taking those clothes off," he said impatiently. "I'm sick of just standing here while we're wasting precious time. My cock is hot and I'm going to get my rocks off inside you, you disgusting little twat. Now take off that bra. That's what I want you to remove next. And if you don't do it right now, I've got a good mind to shoot those huge beautiful tits of yours off with this gun."
His stern warning brought an immediate response from Cathy Norris.
She reached back and, with her fingers trembling nervously, unhooked her bra. She pulled it off.
The young girl held it in her fingers looking at it as if it were some kind of long lost relative.
"Well, don't just stand there with it, drop it on the floor," he laughed. "Damned, but you can act stupid."
But when he got a better look at those fully exposed boobs he was so impressed that he hardly knew what to do.
They appeared even huger than the voluptuous, firm breasts of Midge Evans. They contained a velvety ivory texture that he could hardly wait to sink his scorching fingers into.
"O.K., so now that I've gotten a good look at your tits, I want to see that twat of yours as well," he said. "Now get those damned panties off, and be damned quick about it."
She tugged fearfully at her panties, letting them slide down her legs.
After she stepped out of them, his eyes reflected on her mound.
"So this is a virginal twat, huh?" he laughed. "I still think you're handing me a line when you give me this virgin stuff. I'm really having a hard time swallowing that one."
"It's the truth," she insisted. "Well, maybe we'll find out in a little bit." Burt was pleased that he was feeling much more relaxation around Cathy than he had around Midge.
He now had one rape under his belt, and he was determined to thoroughly enjoy this one without feeling any trepidation.
As he walked toward her, he explained: "Now, get on that bed and lie flat on your stomach. Close those eyes of yours and don't open them until I tell you. Just lie down there nice and stiff and I'll take care of the rest."
Now she began trembling more than ever before. She was fearful that he was going to do something terrible to her.
But she could not do anything to stop him at that point, not with that loaded revolver being pointed toward her.
She did precisely as told, stretching out on her stomach.
She shut her eyes tightly, her entire body tensing.
He reached into his pocket for the cord.
He set his revolver down for the moment and tightly bound her feet.
Burt then put her hands behind her back and bound them as well.
He then reached out and grabbed her by the arms, turning her body over and forcing her onto her back.
"I'd like to look at that beautiful face of yours for a little bit," he chuckled. "I've got you tied up now, so I don't want to hear any guff from you. This revolver is always going to be nearby, and don't forget that."
He waved it menacingly in his right hand for several seconds, then shoved it into his coat pocket.
Burt reached out and allowed his hands to run around those huge breasts.
"I don't know if I've seen a bigger pair of tits in my entire life," he laughed. "I remember one time seeing a stripper in downtown L.A. who came close. She might have been as big as you, although I'm not sure. Oh yeah, there was a topless dancer in a beer bar out in Torrance who had pretty good sized tits too. But I don't think she was any bigger than you, baby. Besides, you're a whole lot better looking than she was."
The compliments she was receiving from her assailant didn't impress young Cathy Norris one solitary bit.
She hated this man and everything he stood for, and she feared being subjected to brutal treatment.
The longer he ran his fingers over her boobs, the more excited he became.
He soon began to pinch her breasts.
"I really like these tits, I like these movements," he said. "Damned, but it's nice giving your fingers a little freedom around a girl's boobies."
As he started pinching her harder, she shrieked: "You're hurting me, stop it!"
"You make any more noise, you little snip, and I'll shoot your head off."
To prove his point, he reached out and delivered a wicked slap which caught her on the side of the neck.
Her whole body shook and she burst into tears.
"Stop, please stop, you're hurting me, you really are," her voice began to carry.
He realized then that it was futile to expect her to remain quiet. She was too afraid.
He slipped the revolver back into his pocket temporarily, then reached into his rear trousers pocket and pulled out a clean white handkerchief.
He reached behind her and gagged her.
"Now, that ought to keep that goddam mouth of yours shut," he said angrily. "You've got the biggest damned mouth in the San Fernando Valley."
He decided to punish her for her noisy manner.
Burt dug his fingernails into her nipples until they began to bleed.
He observed the tears rolling down her eyes, and cared not one iota.
He felt perfectly justified in hurting her. He felt a sense of self-righteousness that a parent could be expected to feel while disciplining a wayward child.
After he had finished punishing the nipples, he moved his fingernails down to her breasts. He scratched them until he drew blood from them.
"I dig that nice crimson color," he laughed loudly.
Her body was trembling and she felt great pain. But what hurt her the most was her helplessness.
CHAPTER TEN
Burt was getting extremely worked up.
He decided that he would fuck Cathy's beautiful tits in the same way that he had done to Midge.
He slipped his hot aroused rod over her right breast, enjoying the stimulating movements attached to running it over her tit.
"This is what I like, this is the kind of action that I really like," he said. "Don't sit there and make such a pained expression. I'm getting tired of your martyred act."
Burt was perturbed by the fact that she appeared to be in such great pain.
Her entire body trembled with fear and frustration as he kept directing his cock up and down.
A young girl, and highly inexperienced by the standards of many her age, Cathy Norris had made certain that she did not let men take liberties with her.
She hoped to save herself for the right man, and for that reason she avoided sexual contact, even though she had numerous opportunities.
But now this man was forcing himself upon her, doing vile things to her that she hated.
Once he finished fucking one tit, he moved on to the other, repeating the speedy process of stabbing that pecker over her breast.
The longer he kept up those brisk stabs, the more aroused he became.
Now he was thinking in terms of getting his rocks off.
He finally was forced to abruptly withdraw his prick from her tits.
"Those tits are just too much," he told her. "They get me so excited that I almost shoot my jissum off while I'm running my cock over them."
He decided that it was time to find out just how much of a virgin she was.
He looked down at her inviting mound and ran his fingers over her pussy hairs.
Burt's fingers caressed the hairs, then moved beneath them to her mound.
He let his fingers move briskly over her snatch as he continued getting hotter.
"Now I'm gonna slam my cock in your pussy," he chuckled. "Get set for a big thrill, baby. And if you're telling me the truth, it will be your first."
He thrust that flaming rod inside her mound.
His first penetrating stab sent sparks of pain shooting through her.
Her body trembled painfully under the savage impulses of his hard pecker.
Back and forth he rotated his hips as he knifed her cunt.
He reached down and ran his fingers over her asscheeks while he continued gliding that cock in a speedy fashion.
"You're awfully tight," he said happily, "just maybe you're as much of a virgin as you say you are."
She was hurting all over from those savage stabs that he directed toward her.
The fact that he was hurting her made him all the happier to drive his prick into her at a blinding, accelerated clip.
"I'm going to keep this pecker grinding inside you until I shoot inside your mound," he laughed. "I'm going to drill the hell out of this cunt, I'm going to fuck it like crazy, drive my pecker into it."
Young Cathy was revolted by his talk, but that. wasn't what was principally bothering The thing she hated was that he was using his cock to grind and tear inside her mound.
Her vagina was in terrible pain as he pushed himself close to orgasm.
"Oh, I'm going to shoot, I'm going to shoot off my rocks," he exclaimed with a gulp. "Get set for my juice explosion."
He quickly withdrew his fingers from her asscheeks.
Now those fingers were working their way around her breasts. He pinched her nipples while he continued to stab away at her mound.
He enjoyed having those fingers moving around her nipples and breasts. Once he had received his share of kicks from running his fingers around the nipples, he switched them to her tits.
He squeezed her tits gingerly while his penetrating penis continued to move with darting speed inside her mound.
Burt made certain that he fucked her as deeply as possible, sending that surging spear as deeply inside her tortured mound as possible.
The blinding efforts were pushing him toward the final stages of his fuck.
"Get set for my juice," he laughed. "I'm going to spill my pecker liquid right into your twat."
As his fingers were pinching her nipples once more, the hot white liquid spurted out of the end of his flaming rod.
"Oh, this is like being in heaven," he gasped.
"Do I ever love fucking you. Damned, but it's tight in there, oh, is it ever tight, and do I ever love it."
Burt removed his penis from her mound.
He looked down and observed the blood which had splattered from her pussy.
At that point he recognized that she had not been kidding him along at all. Cathy had been completely sincere about having been a virgin.
It made him feel proud to know that he was the man who had punctured her virginity.
It had been his flaming dick that had burst her cherry and deprived her of further virginity status.
"So you were leveling with me about being a virgin," he laughed. "It looks like you really needed this experience, baby. Maybe more than even you realized."
Now that he had orgasmed inside her mound and made her bleed, piercing her cherry, he wanted to do more.
He was angry at this young girl, because he knew that she did not appreciate what he represented.
As far as he was concerned, he was at war with the female species. These beautiful girls who insisted on going their separate ways without paying deference to him would have to suffer if he had anything to say about it.
He got up from the bed and picked up her discarded bra.
At that point his mind flashed back to a similar moment in his interlude with beautiful young Midge Evans. He had left an indelible imprint on her by carving numbers on her breasts.
He looked inside the bra and observed her size.
"Damned, I knew you were big but I didn't know you were that big!" he said. "You're a forty E. That's really something. You've really got a pair of tits on you, sweetheart."
He was more impressed with himself than ever for having gone through with his daring gamble. He had anticipated from the beginning that Cathy's gorgeous breasts were even larger than those of Midge, and time was proving him correct in that assessment.
He got his pocket knife out and held it toward her breasts.
She began kicking wildly, doing her best to free herself from bondage.
"You might as well stop wasting your time," he said. "There is no way that you're ever going to free yourself from those tight knots that I tied. Besides, if you do any more kicking, your efforts are going to have an adverse effect on me. You're only going to wind up making me good and mad. And after you do that, you're going to be in big trouble because I'm going to shoot you in the head."
She realized then just how important it was to do exactly as told, even if he meant to hurt her with the knife.
"I'm just going to carve something on your breasts," he said. "I'm proud of your size, and I'm going to carve the size out on those gorgeous tits."
Cathy closed her eyes, squinting tightly so that she would not have to look at the depressingly painful ordeal that was to follow.
He started with her right tit, skillfully carving a number four on it. He chuckled as he watched the fresh red blood surfacing.
"That takes care of one of them," he said.
Cathy was shuddering in pain. She had never been through an ordeal like this before, and she was wondering if she would be able to live through this one.
He next addressed his activities to her left breast, on which he carved a bloody round zero.
He got up from the bed and admired his handiwork.
She opened her eyes and observed the carved letters on her breasts.
The tears began to burst forth from both eyes.
"I think I've got one more good orgasm in me," he laughed.
He grabbed his hard pecker with his right hand and began to pump on it.
He perched his body over her face, determined to shoot his juices into her face.
Back and forth he spiritedly maneuvered those fingers until he got close to climax.
"Oh, I'm just about there, you're going to get some nice hot juice in your face," he said.
He pumped vigorously until the juices spurted out of his cock and landed on her face.
Now he was happy! He had orgasmed twice.
As she lay there helpless on the bed, he quietly washed off his knife in the bathroom, then left the house.
A few minutes later he was home, and he thought about his second triumph the rest of the evening.
It was something for him to reflect on, a moment of great success for him.
He did not care what society in general might have thought about his activities. He knew that they made him happy and that was all he was concerned about.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Burt was so impressed by his second conquest that he struck for a third time one week later.
His third victim was a young divorcee in her early twenties named Grace Berry.
Grace had been a regular customer of the dress shop for almost a year.
She had always been detached and cool toward Burt. He had always been highly attracted to her, but up until the time that he had gained confidence through his rape assaults on Midge and Cathy, he would never have thought of trying anything with her.
He knew from past experience that it would be totally futile to ask her for a date, so he knew that the only thing to do was to attack her in the way that he had his first two victims.
He obtained her address from the bill of sale, and dropped by the area of her apartment several times.
He discovered that she arrived home promptly at six every evening.
She periodically dated. He observed three different men that she went out with, but noticed that they never seemed to pick her up before seven-thirty.
He decided to take a chance on striking at six sharp one Wednesday evening.
Everything went well, and now he had persuaded her at gun point to strip.
As she stool before him, her beautiful nude body trembling, his cock became so hard that he felt great difficulty in holding back the floodtide of juice that would ensue the moment that the jissum began to shoot.
"You're an absolute beauty," he said. "But I think you require a little taming, sweetheart."
"Just what do you mean by that?" she asked in a soft, trembling voice.
"I'll answer that with my actions, not my words," he laughed. "Now just lie down there on that bed. I want you to lie on your beautiful little stomach."
Grace Berry did exactly as he told her, the same as her two predecessors had done.
While she lay stiffly on her stomach, he succeeded in tying her up.
Since she was older and a little more experienced in the ways of sex than his other two victims, Burt was looking forward to the change of pace with great curiosity.
He wondered just how less intimidated she would be over the prospect of doing various acts than had Midge and Cathy.
He knew that as long as he had a gun, and was killing to use it, she would be afraid. But what he didn't know was how fearful she would be in comparison to the other two girls. She might prove, he hoped, a little more amenable in the area of lovemaking.
Even though he had enjoyed the idea of despoiling one virgin and teaching some tricks of the trade to Midge, he was looking forward to what he hoped to be a little bit of a change of pace.
The first thing that he wanted to make her do was to pay homage to his big cock.
Burt reached out and grabbed her, turning her beautiful body over to where she was lying on her back.
"You sure have some big tits, honey," he grinned.
Burt reached out and grabbed a hold of her breasts.
He squeezed them tightly until she let out a gasp.
"Please, you're really hurting me," she said.
"Shut up," he barked. "You do any more begging or crying and you've had it."
She could tell by the way he pointed menacingly toward the jacket pocket where he had stored his revolver, that he meant business.
He continued to squeeze her breasts. He then took his sharp fingernails and allowed them to pierce her nipples until the blood began to spurt.
"I like this nipple action," he chuckled. "Just lie there and bleed, baby, bleed."
He finally withdrew his fingernails from her.
He looked down at that hard dick and massaged it with several up and down movements.
"Think I'll fuck these beautiful tits," he laughed jovially.
He then put his cock to work on her left tit.
It made him feel wonderful to allow that huge stick a lot of latitude.
Back and forth he worked that huge prick, letting it maneuver skillfully over her breast.
The longer he slid his cock over her breast, the hotter he became all over. Soon he was rotating those asscheeks of his in a rapid-fire movement as he put forth every ounce of effort he could summon into those stabbing fucks.
Once he finished with one breast, he switched over to the other one, demonstrating the same degree of physical proficiency on it that he had on the other one.
As he let his prick slide over her breast, he felt a tremendous sense of fulfillment. He was getting to the point where he had developed great pride in his pecker and his ability to put it to meaningful use.
He kept up his tit fucking until he reached the point where his cock itched to such an extent that, to continue the activity any longer, he would have risked shooting off his juices right then and there.
Burt decided that the. next great move on his itinerary would be to fuck her in the mouth.
"Get set for a good time, honey," he winked. "Just open that mouth of yours. Open it up nice and wide, because I'm going to fuck it."
"Please don't do that, anything but that," she sobbed. "My husband did that to me once, and I didn't like it. I couldn't even breathe. Oh, I really hated it. Please don't do that to me. Do anything but that."
"What did I say about making a lot of noise?" he snapped impatiently.
He reached out with his right hand and slapped her hard across the face. He then delivered a backhanded slap which caught her on the other side of the face.
His face reddened with great anger as he delivered a series of forehanded and backhanded slaps which did not stop until she was crying and her face was red from his piercing assault.
She sobbed and her body trembled, but finally the noise ceased.
"You'd better be quiet, if you know what's good for you," he said.
To prove his point, he removed his revolver from his jacket pocket and held it toward her head.
"Do you want me to pull this trigger?" he asked solemnly.
"No, please don't do that."
"Then you'd better keep your goddamned mouth shut and you'd better not hand me any more static about what I can and can't do. I'm going to do exactly what I please while I'm around here, and if you don't like it, then I don't give a flying fuck. You're going to at least tolerate me, even if you might personally hate my guts."
"I don't hate your guts."
"You goddamned little liar," he laughed. "Now, open that mouth up. And if you don't, I'm going to plug you right between the eyes."
She promptly opened up her mouth.
Burt nodded and smiled, placing the revolver back inside his pocket.
Burt was now ready to get on with the next stage of his activity. He was all set to shove that piercing spear into her mouth.
"Well, here it goes," he laughed.
His fingers gripped her tits tightly for added support as his body rocked forward.
His huge cock penetrated inside her mouth. As he rocked his body to and fro, he shoved that pecker ever deeper inside her mouth.
"Oh, I really love this action," he nodded happily. "It's great to be stabbing a beautiful mouth with a hot dick. There is nothing like it, sweetheart, even if you might hate it. Just you've got one helluva lot of nerve to ask me not to do this, something that comes natural to me by nature, something that I absolutely love."
He kept on gripping those breasts tightly while he shoved his dick as far into her mouth as it would go.
It was a stimulating throat fuck, one that he was enjoying to the fullest as he pushed his prick all the way to the base of her throat.
His movements began to quicken the longer that he allowed that prick to penetrate inside her mouth.
Back and forth he delivered that prick with steady lightening thrusts. He knew that soon he would be shooting off his juices, since there was no way that he could hold back the tide of jissum.
The excitement multiplied throughout his body, surfacing in particular in his cock and balls.
His helpless victim could scarcely breathe since he was stuffing the cock into her so far. As for her breasts, they were burning from the intense pressure which he was constantly supplying with his fingers.
He kept on stepping up the pace, driving himself that much closer toward his ultimate goal of orgasm.
"Damned, but that's a nice mouth," he laughed. "It's just made to order for my big dick. I really love shoving this hot dick into it. I really love it, it really feels good, it really feels great to have this prick of mine shoving inside you like this."
His darting stabs continued zealously, and now he decided to move his fingers from her injured breasts down to her asscheeks.
The thing that had impressed him first about her was her breasts, but next to that, the thing that he liked next to the way her breasts looked, was the beautiful construction of her asscheeks.
He placed his fingers around those snowy white globes of flesh and pressed against them with tight eagerness.
"You've sure got an ass on you, sweetheart," he laughed. "I really love playing with those asscheeks, they really do something to me, you really do something for me. I love playing with your ass. Maybe I should have started playing with it a little sooner, but with those beautiful tits of yours, I couldn't seem to get my fingers off of them."
His fingers continued to penetrate tightly around her asscheeks while his cock made great strides inside her mouth.
He plunged it into her without any mercy. That was the only way he wanted to fuck a woman like that, totally without mercy, stabbing his penis into her with every bit of zeal that his body could conceivably command.
Back and forth he continued to race that prick with blinding speed, moving ever closer to the big moment of climax.
Now his fingers were clamped with ever greater tightness and urgency around her asscheeks.
The longer that the fuck went, and the closer he came to shooting off his penis, the more inclined he felt to stab sharply against another part of her body.
Now her asscheeks were the targets, along with her mouth, which was being subjected to steady barrages from his big dick.
"You are one helluva woman," he laughed, "even though you're a big cry baby. I love pushing this prick around inside you, sweetheart, it's just fantastic. It's so tight in there. It's like a fuck and a suck at the same time, and that's what makes it absolutely great."
He kept on stabbing, never once letting up. Now he was gasping and sputtering as he kept on shoving that stick into her.
"So tight, such a nice tight mouth," he sighed. "It's just made to order for my purposes. Just made to order for my big prick. I love this mouth and I love to fuck it."
He gasped and kept shoving that body relentlessly forward as he fucked her mouth.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Now Burt was only a few more pecker stabs away from shooting.
"Do I ever love this mouth, and do I ever love fucking it," he laughed. "Just get set for my juice, honey. Just get set to receive all my hot juice."
Now that he was just about ready to unleash his load, he released his fingers from her asscheeks and moved them up toward her head.
He reached out and started pulling her hair sharply.
He observed her cringing with pain, something that he liked. He enjoyed the idea that he was holding her totally captive.
"Now the juice is going to fly. Now it's going to spurt out of the end of my cock," he said excitedly.
He continued to grab a hold of her hair, holding onto it tightly as he felt the itchiness surfacing in his cock and balls.
His inflated balls were feeling the uncontrollable urge to shoot.
Back and forth he rocked his body several more times, delivering sweeping stabs inside her mouth, shoving that huge pecker all the way to the base of her throat.
"Here it comes," he sighed.
At that point the hot white jissum shot out of the end of his huge pecker and into her mouth.
To Grace Berry the moment of climax represented the most reprehensible single facet of the entire act of throat fucking.
She gasped and gulped, and the juices spilled out of her mouth.
She gagged and wheezed on the cock juice, most of which she spat out of her mouth.
That made Burt extremely irate. He wanted very much for her to swallow his cock juice, and when he saw her spitting it out, he could not stand it.
"You bitch, you wasted my good load," he said.
"You beast, this was so terrible," she sobbed. He reached out and delivered a solid slap to her face.
She then began to sob all the more uncontrollably.
"Only one way to end all this," he said angrily.
Burt reached inside his pocket and pulled out a clean white handkerchief, which he slipped around her mouth.
He gagged her as her entire body continued to tremble. It had put her practically in a delirious state to be absorbing the kind of physical and sexual punishment that Burt Niles had been dealing out.
Now that he had her gagged, he was trying to think of a sordid act that would cause her even greater humiliation.
It was not enough to fuck her and hurt her. Not when she would try something like spitting his precious juices out of her mouth.
He observed that the three shots of whiskey that he had had prior to leaving his house were now beginning to act up on him.
He would ordinarily have walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. But now that she had angered him, he decided that there was a way that he could teach her demonstrably just how angry she had made him by spitting his jissum.
She looked at him through terror filled eyes which had reddened considerably from crying.
Grace watched closely as he slid his body over her face.
"Now you're going to get just what you deserve," he laughed.
As she lay there helplessly on her back, he allowed a stream of warm yellow urine to shoot out of the end of his penis and onto her face.
"This is what you deserve, a lot of nice warm piss," he erupted angrily. "You're getting exactly what's coming to you, you slimy little bitch."
After he finished urinating on her, his cock once more began to harden considerably.
Burt knew that he had another good orgasm stored up in him.
He looked down at those solid white asscheeks that he had enjoyed running his fingers over to such a great extent.
The longer that his eyes remained focused on them, the better they looked to him.
Finally he decided that he just had to fuck her there in order to make the entire episode a success.
He reached down and allowed his fingers to run eagerly over his huge pecker, which was inflating with every finger effort.
"I'm getting you set for another hot fuck," he laughed.
He reached out and grabbed her body, turning her over roughly until she was lying on her stomach.
He knew that it would not be easy to fuck that beautiful ass since her legs were bound tightly together.
But Burt observed her ass crack, and felt that he could achieve erotic sensations by running his cock over it.
"That's an awful nice ass you've got," he said as he ran his fingers over it once more.
The longer his fingers moved briskly over her asscheeks, the better that he liked it.
He was getting that cock poised and ready to go.
With lightning effectiveness he drove that prick forward, positioning his body on top of her ass.
He used that ass crack to good advantage, deriving great erotic thrills by sliding his balls over her asscheeks and letting the cock shove back and forth over her ass crack.
He was ablaze with passion all over again, enjoying his fuck. He liked Grace Berry's ass, and he liked the fact that he was totally dominating her.
"I'm going to shoot off my juices on this ass," he said. "Gangway, sweetheart, because I'm going to drill you. This pecker juice is going to fly all over you. It's going to fly, baby, it's going to fly, it's really going to fly, and you're going to put up with it whether you like it or not."
He was beginning to feel like a man who was wielding a great deal of power. He thought about how potentates and emperors must feel.
His chest was swelling out with great enthusiasm over the fact that he was fucking the third beautiful girl in a short period of time.
The faster that he stabbed that cock around her ass crack, the huger his balls became as he dragged them over her asscheeks.
"You've got as beautiful an ass as I've ever seen," he said.
He decided to give himself some extra thrills, so he reached back and pinched her asscheeks several times, causing her body to squirm.
Once he satisfied himself with the asscheek squeezing, he moved his hands to the small of her back.
He felt like providing her with some pain, something that he felt would add to his sexual enthusiasm. An idea quickly crossed his mind.
He ground the knuckles of his clenched fist against the small of her back, causing her body to quiver.
He could hear gasps coming from her mouth, and it made him all the more determined to hurt her.
"I'm dominating you and calling the shots, baby, and don't you ever forget it," he said. "It's going to be my ballgame until I shoot off my pecker. I'm going to be in command here just as long as I choose to stay, and there's not a solitary thing that you can do about it."
He continued to grind his knuckles into the small of her back until he felt that tremendously exhilarating itch circulating around his cock and balls, the itch that was always there preparatory to shooting off his big penis.
"Here comes the old penis joy shot," he laughed. "You ought to be used to this hard cock by now, you slimy little red haired bitch. Just who do broads like you think you are, thinking that you're better than somebody like me?"
Burt Niles heaved a deep sigh, at which point the hot juice shot out of the end of his stick.
A broad grin suddenly surfaced on his face as he watched the jutting white juices shoot forth from that huge pecker.
"If I do say so myself, I've got one helluva beautiful cock," he chuckled. "Just like you've got one whale of an ass. You've got to be some kind of lousy cunt, though, to think that you'd complain about me fucking your mouth. That's just the kind of action you deserve, even if you're too stupid to know it. Maybe you didn't like it from your husband, but I'll bet he had one whale of a time doing it to you."
She felt the hot white juice that was covering her ass crack and asscheeks.
She was hoping that he was through for the evening, that he would be fucking her no more.
Grace started thinking about that terrible revolver that she had seen him exhibit. It made her feel great pangs of fear. She did not know but what he might use it on her.
Now that he had satisfied himself by orgasming twice, the only thing left on his itinerary was to follow his established ritual. While she continued to lie on her stomach, he picked up her bra and examined it.
"Not bad," he said happily, "you've got a thirty-eight B, eh? I figured you were at least a thirty-eight. You've got a nice set of tits on you, to go along with that lovely ass."
Burt dropped the bra on the floor, then turned her over on her back.
Her eyes flashed in terror as he removed his pocket knife and opened it.
"That's right, I carry a knife as well as a revolver," he chided her. "I suppose that that really shakes you up, doesn't it?"
He stared at those lovely breasts.
"Now I'm going to carve up those beautiful tits a little," he chuckled. "I want to put the numbers of your breast size on your tits. That will give you a little souvenir of our visit."
She was sickened with pain as he stabbed at her right breast, carving a three on it.
"Now I've got a three on your breast," he laughed. "Now I'm going to put an eight on the other one. A gal with big tits like yours needs a monument to them, and that is what I am going to provide for you."
Burt completed his evil deed.
While his victim lay there trembling in pain, sobbing bitterly, he washed off his knife.
Burt then made one last trip to the bedroom. He looked at his victim, a big smile crossing his face. He quietly applauded himself over his expertise as a rapist.
"Well, dearie, it's goodbye for now," he said sarcastically. "I'm sorry you couldn't have enjoyed every bit of it as much as I did. Maybe in time you'll learn how to enjoy yourself in sex, rather than getting uptight about everything. At least I hope that you will."
He felt better than he had on the other two occasions when he left her apartment.
He regarded his rape of Grace Berry to be his finest accomplishment. He had been so much more competent with her than he had been with the other two girls.
It was a great accomplishment to run through things as smoothly as he did, and the longer he thought about it, the happier the whole thing made him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The bloodied, hysterical redhead was discovered by a boyfriend who arrived at her apartment about a half an hour after Burt left.
He immediately called an ambulance and the shaking, hysterical Grace Berry was rushed to an emergency hospital.
Later that evening she had been calmed down enough through administration of sedatives to where Lieutenant Bitterman and Sergeant Casey were able to talk to her.
Through it all, the nervous boyfriend, Dick Jones, was sitting there puffing nervously on a cigarette.
"Can you describe what he sounded like?" Bitterman asked.
"Yes, he had a southern accent. I couldn't quite make out what part of the South."
"Did it sound like Deep South?" Casey asked.
"No, not really."
"Kind of like Texas or Oklahoma?" Bitterman asked.
"Yes, something like that," she nodded.
"I sure wish I'd gotten there in time," a nervous Dick Jones shook his head. "What I wouldn't have given to break that sonofabitch's neck."
"I know just how you must feel, son," Bitterman said consolingly, "but it won't do any good to get all upset about that now."
"If only I had been a little bit earlier."
"You can't blame yourself," Casey said. "Be thankful for one thing."
"What's that?" Dick Jones asked.
"That this guy didn't kill her."
"Yes, that's certainly true."
"She's going to be alright in no time," Bitterman looked at her and smiled.
"I sure wish I could help you more," she said.
"You've told us quite a bit," Bitterman said. "Enough to enable me to fill my notebook with pertinent details. You told us all about the wig he wore and the mask he had on. It definitely sounds like the same guy that pulled off two other rapes in the West Valley."
"Did the other guy have the accent?" she asked.
"Definitely," Bitterman said. "The other two girls definitely said that they noticed an accent."
"I hope you're hot on his trail," Jones said. "I'd sure hate to think of some other poor guy going through what I am right now."
"We're doing our best," Casey said, "but unfortunately we don't have any real strong leads now. But if either one of you come up with anything or remember anything that you think that might be pertinent that you haven't told us about, just give us a call."
"That's right," Bitterman nodded. "You see, in the tense aftermath of something like this people are often inclined to forget certain things."
"I don't think I've forgotten anything," Grace said. "It was so terrible that it's like the most realistic nightmare a person could ever go through. I don't think I could ever forget even one detail of the whole thing."
"I can understand that it would affect you in that way," Bitterman said.
The police officers left the hospital room after wishing Grace a speedy recovery and thanking both Grace and Dick for their cooperation.
They drove back to the station and had a cup of coffee together as they pondered details relating to the case.
"It's as baffling as hell right now," Casey said impatiently, stalking back and forth in the office like a nervous cat.
"Sit down and relax, Casey, you're not succeeding in doing anything other than making me nervous," Lieutenant Bitterman smiled.
"But I get so shook over this stuff. It really gets to me. I can't see how you can be so much calmer about it than I am."
"Remember, young man, I've been on the Force some twenty years longer than you have. When you have been exposed to as many of these cases as I have, you'll learn to adopt a pretty philosophical attitude about them. If you don't, the ulcers or the heart trouble will get you for sure. So, sit down and relax. At a time when you're confused, when things look the most baffling, that's the time that you need your resources to be the coolest. Remember that, young fellow."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," Casey nodded, sitting down in a chair across the desk from the Lieutenant.
"We've checked with Texas authorities, and they haven't been able to come up with anything much to help us, have they?"
"Not so far," Casey shook his head. "But, then again, we don't really know that the guy's from Texas."
"That's right. He could be from some other state."
"And even if he is from there, we don't know how long he's been away."
"No, we don't. But what we do know is this. That we're going to really have to tighten up in the West Valley."
"I've got all of our men clued in over there," Casey said.
"That's good. This character must be pretty cagey. That's all I can say. First of all, he's wearing a pretty convincing disguise."
"There's something else too," Casey said.
"What's that, Casey?"
"He always strikes when everybody else is out. Like with the first girl. What's her name?"
"Midge Evans."
"Yeah, like with Midge. Her roommate is gone to school for the evening and he hit then. Bang. Then he leaves."
"Yes, and with the second girl, Cathy Norris, he picked the night that both her parents were gone."
"Yeah, I remember it so well. The father was out bowling and the mother at some kind of a meeting. Now, with a third victim, she's there all by herself. The boyfriend's due a little later, but he leaves in time."
"That strikes me as anything but coincidence," Bitterman nodded.
"You mean it's all a part of a design?"
"You can be practically sure of it."
"How?" the younger man looked up at Bitterman with surprise.
"When you've been around the Department as many years as I have, you get to where you can smell these things. You pick up the scent just like a well trained bloodhound. Everything about this guy indicates planning and plenty of it."
"I'd have to agree with that. He's got it down to a science with that disguise and all."
"Sure, and he does the same thing every time. I mean, he's got to leave the girls bloody. He's got to carve their breast sizes on their breasts."
"That's right. He's repeated himself every time with that."
"So, my guess is that the guy spends time snooping around the neighborhoods where these girls live. Then he makes his move."
"I suppose that's true," Casey nodded. "A very good point."
"Not that difficult an observation to make, really," Bitterman said, as he placed the coffee cup against his lips and took a long sip. "But there's obviously something that we haven't picked up on yet. There's obviously a little tell-tale flaw somewhere, some clue that we just haven't discovered yet. There's always that one clue, one fatal flaw, something that will turn the case our way. It just hasn't broken yet in the case of this guy."
"The question is, how long is it going to take before we finally nail him?" Casey said impatiently.
"Now, relax and stop acting like so much of an impatient Irishman," Bitterman grinned.
"We're going to nab him. I'm confident we'll do it, it's just a question of when."
"Who knows? He might stop raping girls. He might quit while he's ahead. He might also move to another area. I mean, start hitting victims from somewhere else. He could move around a little, to confuse us."
"I doubt it very much."
"What makes you so confident?"
"Because, if he were going to do that, I think he would already have done it. No, there's a reason why he's hitting girls that live in a certain area."
"You think he lives near there?"
"Could be, could very well be," he nodded. "There could be another reason. He could work around there, he could have just picked out that section at random."
"If he just picked it out at random, then why is he hitting just that one section?"
"If he's a real psychopath, he might derive great ego thrills by thinking that's thwarting the police by literally doing the stuff in front of them. In other words, this character might be wanting to give us a few clues just to make things interesting. That way he can brag about how smart he is. That's just a theory, but I've run into characters like that. A lot of these frustrated characters are real ego maniacs. They figure that the only reason they haven't been setting the world on fire is because they haven't gotten that right break. And with women, they're vulnerable in particular as they think that the opposite sex has it in for them and they've been victimized by bad breaks."
"You could be right. At this point, I'm so confused, I don't know what to think."
"Just stick with me and we'll nab this guy."
"I sure hope so."
"Have a little confidence. It will carry you a long way."
"Were you always this sure of yourself?" Casey asked his more experienced partner with a grin.
"I must admit that it comes much easier with a number of years of experience behind me."
"That's exactly what I thought."
"Everything seems to fall into place much quicker with experience."
Bitterman and Casey left the Station a few minutes later.
Bitterman got into his car and turned on the radio.
He looked forward to making the long freeway ride home at least partially bearable by listening to some soothing, relaxing music.
Even though he was calmer than young Casey, he was feeling a lot more inner frustration than he was willing to concede.
Through long years of work on the Police Force, he had learned to basically conceal his feelings. But he still felt strongly about the cases to which he was assigned. He was just able to control his instincts a little easier than the younger Casey was able to do.
He listened to a soothing instrumental and finally managed to get his mind off of the perplexing case for at least a few minutes.
Then his quiet reverie was suddenly interrupted by the news.
A commentator began mentioning all the troubles in the world, then switched to local news. His first story concerned the rape victim, Grace Berry.
"Dammit, there doesn't seem to be any way of getting away from this," Bitterman said as he angrily turned off the radio.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Midge Evans entered the dress shop one week following Burt's triumph over his third victim.
He could see that she was still shaken by the ordeal of the rape.
It made him nervous to be in her presence, but he did his best to cover up his nervousness.
His feelings were mixed about the attention he was receiving on television and in the newspapers for his exploits. He kept wondering just how much the police knew, and whether he wasn't taking a substantial risk in carrying things as far as he was. But it was difficult for him to change his pattern of conduct by that time, since he was enjoying himself to such a tremendous extent.
Phyllis Escobar was a gorgeous dark haired young girl of twenty who was a student at Valley City College.
She was a periodic customer in the dress shop, and Burt had admired her from a distance for a long time.
Generally his boss, Harry Desmond, waited on her whenever she was in the store. She purposely selected Harry whenever she had the opportunity since she had been dealing with him from the first time that she entered the store and felt that he knew her needs.
It miffed Burt a little to see her asking for Harry. It made him angry to have to step aside and let Harry Desmond wait on her, when he wanted very much to do it himself.
She generally wore mini skirts, which brought out the sleek lines in her beautiful legs.
She was not a tall girl, standing at five two, but was very well endowed. He immediately was drawn toward her breasts, which looked so supple and firm.
She walked in on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. Harry was out of the store at the time.
Burt hoped that his opportunity had finally surfaced.
"Good afternoon," she said.
"Hello there. Can I help you?"
"Is Mr. Desmond around?"
"No he isn't. Today he went into Los Angeles to look at some new garments that just came in from New York."
"Oh, that's too bad," she said disappointedly.
"Well, I'd be most happy to help you."
"I generally like to go to him. He knows me so well."
"I don't think it would take me that long to know you," Burt attempted to turn on the charm, smiling. "By that, I mean, I could easily take care of your needs if you'll just give me some kind of an impression as to what you're looking for."
"Maybe I had better come back tomorrow," she said. "Will he be in then?"
"Yes, he'll be in all day tomorrow."
"Thank you all the same, but I think I'll wait until tomorrow," she said. "I'll be to see him then."
He stood there and did a slow burn as she walked out of the store.
"What's that goddamn fag got that I haven't?" he mumbled. "To think she's got to have him take care of her. It's ridiculous."
The following afternoon Burt was checking inventory when Phyllis Escobar came in.
She said nothing to him, walking over to Harry, who showed her some dresses promptly.
Burt was so angry that he could hardly keep his mind on his job of sorting out new dresses.
It burned him to think that she would walk out of the store rather than have him wait on her. He considered it a terrible affront to his male ego.
He observed her walk toward the counter after deciding on a purchase.
She reached into her purse and pulled out her charge-a-plate, which Harry took.
Burt was hoping that he would have the opportunity to look at her bill, since he could obtain her address from it.
She left the store all smiles with the package under her arm.
"You won't be all smiles when I get through with you," Burt mumbled.
As closing time approached, Harry Desmond looked at his watch.
"My oh my, but it's getting late."
"Just about closing time," Burt exclaimed.
"Yes it is. I must be getting home. I have company. The sweetest young boy is coming over to look at some of my paintings."
"If you'd like to leave now, I can take care of things. I mean, we certainly aren't going to have a rush of customers at this hour, and I can close everything up."
"Could you do that for me?" Harry beamed happily.
"Certainly. No trouble at all."
"That's so sweet of you. You're such a devoted employee, Burt."
"It's all in a day's work."
"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Harry smiled as he strutted toward the door.
"Right. Goodnight now."
"I expect that it will be a most delightful evening," Harry Desmond winked.
Burt waited until the door closed and Harry Desmond was gone.
"God but that guy drives me out of my gourd," he shook his head disgustedly.
He walked behind the counter and opened the cash register.
He reached inside and pulled out the bill of sale for Phyllis Escobar.
"There's her address," he smiled. "I think I'll be paying her a visit one of these evenings."
As soon as he closed up the shop, Burt got into his car and drove into Canoga Park, where Phyllis Escobar lived.
He found the small apartment building where she lived, which was situated between Sherman Way and Vanowen Street.
He sat parked across the street from the building for a few minutes.
When he became convinced that there would be no activity, he left. But he resolved that he would be back to search out the area thoroughly before he made his move.
Burt went home and fixed himself a TV dinner. After that he opened a new bottle of vodka and began sipping on it. He mixed a little orange juice in for good measure and got delightfully drunk as he watched a spine-tingling version of Colombo on television.
It made him feel a little nervous to observe Peter Falk pursuing the perpetrator of a murder with great regularity.
The more that Falk began bugging the suspect, the more nervous the man became. And that in turn gave Burt food for thought.
As the show ended, he flicked off the television set and began wondering if it was really worth all the risk he was taking to receive those sex kicks he was getting.
The more he thought about it, the more he concluded, despite the risk involved, that he should continue to go after such kicks. After all, he couldn't but recognize, up until the time that he had started to succeed with women in that manner, he had had very little if any excitement in his life.
Perhaps he was taking a risk. He would accept it in order to sustain a way of living that he was becoming rapidly accustomed to. Besides, he didn't have to make the same mistakes that certain other criminals made. He could succeed where others had failed. As he took a long sip from his drink, he thought about how clever he was in wearing a blonde wig and a mask. It made him chuckle when he thought about that Texas accent that he had perfected. It also helped throw the authorities off the track.
The one thing that Burt, had decided on the basis of all the thinking he had done that night was that he should be more cautious than ever.
For that reason he spent the next two weeks staking out Phyllis Escobar's apartment at various hours of the day and night.
He discovered that Phyllis had a part-time job as a waitress in a Mexican restaurant in nearby Northridge. In addition, he discovered that she had a roommate who was employed as a nurse at a local hospital.
He bought a little black book and conscientiously made entries as to when the girls came and went from the apartment.
Soon he had all of their schedules down pat. He knew when the nurse was on and off duty, and he was aware of when Phyllis went to school and worked at her part-time job in the restaurant.
He observed that the nurse worked every Tuesday evening at the hospital.
Burt also noticed that Phyllis, who dated different young men periodically, was generally at home on Tuesday evening.
He decided to strike at seven o'clock on a Tuesday evening.
He gathered up his belongings that Tuesday night and drove over to her place.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
This time he found himself feeling strangely calm as he walked up to her second floor apartment.
Experience had made him into a new man, he thought. No longer did he feel the great tension that had been so much a part of him before.
He reached out and rapped his knuckles several times on the door.
"Who is it?" he heard a voice call out from the distance.
"Western Union, mam," he said in a heavily disguised voice.
"Just a moment."
He waited for some two minutes. Now Burt was beginning to get nervous. He hoped that there was nothing wrong.
Several seconds later the door opened and Phyllis Escobar stood before him in a purple robe.
As she was opening the door she exclaimed: "Sorry for the delay, but I was in the shower when you knocked."
But when she got a good look at him in that mask and wig, and observed the revolver which he held on her steadily with his right hand, she froze up and her face turned pale.
"What is this?" she asked.
"I'll do any question asking that's necessary," he said, falling back into his old Texas accent. "Now if you have any sense of hospitality at all, honey, you're gonna ask me in."
"Okay, come in," she said, her voice and body trembling simultaneously.
It made Burt feel all the hornier to observe her in that robe. He wondered if she had on anything at all beneath.
It made him feel a little disappointed that he hadn't caught her when she was in the shower. She would have looked beautiful standing there all naked as the warm water splashed against her olive skin.
"We're going into the bedroom, baby," Burt said.
"Please, not that."
"Look, I'm not in any mood to listen to your lip."
"I'm not trying to give you lip. I just don't want you to hurt me. You're welcome to take anything you want, but please don't abuse my body."
"I've got news for you," he chuckled. "If I were going to pull a heist, I sure as hell wouldn't come here. I can see that you don't have much of anything. You're just a poor girl. But there is one thing that you've got that I couldn't get from just any rich person. You've got a beautiful body, and that's why I'm here. I'm not here to steal your money. I'm just here for a good piece of ass."
"Please don't bother me."
He stepped toward her and hit her on the side of the head with his revolver.
Phyllis Escobar stumbled backwards and fell in a heap to the floor.
She shook her head and began sobbing.
Burt watched coldly as she ran her trembling hand against the side of her head, where blood had surfaced.
"Stop that bawling, you big baby, you," he growled. "That little love tap that I hit you with is just a tiny sample of what you're going to get if you don't watch out. I'll plug you with this damned revolver if you're not careful. You're gonna get hurt a lot worse if I hit you with bullets instead of the butt of the gun. Now get up from there and let's go into the bedroom. I just hope you learned your lesson, because if you haven't, then you're going to be in a whole lot of trouble."
She was afraid to cross him. She got up and stumbled into the bedroom.
Phyllis was dizzy from the sharp blow that she had received. Her vision was a little blurry as she stood next to the bed, her legs shaking.
"Let's get off that robe, baby, and I mean right now," Burt snapped.
She gulped, then allowed her fingers to undo the sashes that held the robe together.
As she slipped out of the purple robe and exposed her lovely form, his cock hardened with great excitement.
"You're making me hard all over," Burt exclaimed. "Wow but you've got a bod on you, sweetheart. Just take that robe off and throw it on the floor."
As she discarded the robe, he observed her panties and bra sitting atop a chair a few feet away.
Burt's eyes then flashed back to her beautiful form. He was captivated by the size and skin texture of her lovely breasts, which looked so very firm.
His eyes then moved down toward her pussy. He observed the curly black pussy hairs, then the red vaginal walls.
His cock hardened all the more and the anticipation surfaced within him to an even greater level when his eyes traveled down to her lovely legs.
He liked the sleek lines, and he could hardly wait to allow his fingers free access to that beautiful form.
"Okay, honey, now lie down on your stomach," he said. "Just lie down in the middle of that bed on your stomach. Close your eyes, and if you give me one solitary bit of guff, I'm gonna plug you right between the eyes. I don't give a damn if I've got to kill you. I'm gonna enforce discipline and I'm gonna fuck you in just the way I want to."
Her still trembling form pushed itself downward as she stretched out in the bed.
He went to work quickly tying her up. His cock was throbbing with such great excitement that he could hardly contain himself.
Now that he had her tied up, he shoved her over on her back.
"Please, I'm afraid," she sobbed.
Once more she angered him. He reached out and delivered his clenched right fist in a forward thrust, which caught her in the middle of the jaw.
Her eyes closed and she lapsed into unconsciousness.
Burt decided at that point not to take anymore chances with her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which he used to gag her.
After he finished gagging her, he was determined to wake her up, so he used his right hand to deliver forehanded and backhanded slaps to the sides of her face, which ultimately awakened her.
He watched the tears roll down her face, and he became all the angrier. He thought about how she had preferred having Harry wait on her.
As she lay there trembling on her back, he allowed his right hand to go to work on that inviting pussy.
His fingers worked with great frequency. Burt loved probing around those shiny black pussy hairs, and enjoyed the stimulating exercise of moving the fingers around inside her vaginal walls.
"Think I'll eat me a little of this snatch," he laughed. "It looks like it would be good eating stuff, baby. Yah, you'd make a real hot tamale for me. You'd better believe it you would."
While she looked at him with revulsion, he slipped his tongue inside her snatch.
Back and forth he let it thrust with great speed. He was too hot to let things proceed in an orderly fashion. He wasn't going to move that tongue slowly when he was able to propel it at a rapid clip.
He picked up the scent of her mound, and he was overcome with thrills as he permitted his hot red tongue to thrust eagerly inside her box.
Even though she hated him, her legs and ass cheeks twitched with excitement when his teeth began to nibble on her clitoris.
He liked the fact that he was getting her excited in spite of herself.
As his tongue continued to probe consistently around her moistening box, he decided to let his right forefinger start probing inside her anus.
While the tongue kept slipping and sliding around her box, his finger thrust high inside her asshole.
He timed his tongue movements with his sweeping finger efforts.
The faster he was inclined to thrust his tongue around her box, the more sharply and the more quickly he would thrust that finger up her asshole.
Now he was gradually pushing her ever closer toward orgasm.
As he came to recognize just how close she was getting to shooting off her pussy, his tongue went to work with that much greater speed.
Back and forth he would slide that tongue around in her box. The longer he kept it up, the faster his heart began to palpitate.
He could feel his hard prick shoving around nervously inside his shorts as his tongue kept on sliding inside her moist snatch.
He knew that this was all the prelude he could possibly take prior to getting into the actual fucking.
He Would eat her box, then put his hot prick to work.
He kept that tongue sliding feverishly around inside her until she exploded.
"I love this lunch," he chuckled. "I always did dig Spanish food in a big way. I think, as a matter of fact, that now that I've had lunch, I'll be going back for a little dessert."
He put his tongue to work a second time, determined to receive a second load of juice from her pussy.
The second time around he sucked her with even faster movements than he had brought to bear on the first occasion.
He sucked her snatch, then alternately nibbled on her clitoris to get her hot and bothered.
He sucked at a feverish clip, keeping up his activities until she shot her juices inside his mouth.
He withdrew his tongue from her box and looked down at his cock, which was bulging inside his shorts.
Phyllis observed the noticeable bulge in his trousers, and was fearful of the consequences that would result.
"Will you take a look at that big cock," he laughed. "You know, it's got a message for both of us. It's telling me to fuck you, and it's telling you to be fucked. Oh, baby, you haven't lived until you've had this big cock of mine stabbing around inside you. Will you like that?"
He observed a fearful look on her face, which soured him.
Burt wanted her to enjoy the fucking as much as he would. But instead he had nothing but another fearful victim on his hands.
"I'll bet you think you're too good for me, I'll bet that's exactly what you think," he said. "Well, I'm going to prove you wrong. I'm gonna prove to you that I'm one hell of a lot more man than those little pricks that are stabbing their hot dicks around inside you. I'm gonna show you that I can fuck one hell of a lot better than all of the rest of them put together."
He resolved to achieve success, and he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his throbbing prick, which he worked his fingers up and down on with great enthusiasm.
"There it is, all for you, honey," he winked.
Phyllis watched as he shoved his fingers up and down the lengthy base of his rod.
He was getting set for action, and she was afraid of him. She was afraid that he was going to hurt her some more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Now that he had his cock bursting forth with energy, Burt knew that he had to put it to work.
He slid his body into bed with her and parted her legs eagerly. He then slipped his flaming rod inside her snatch.
"I'm going to fuck the hell out of you," he told her bluntly.
He then proceeded to do precisely the thing that he had claimed he would. His hot prick pursued her with daggerlike intensity as he stabbed her mound repeatedly with his feverish movements.
He allowed his right forefinger to slip high inside her asshole while he fucked her.
His brutal, insistent stabs continued as he felt the sensations multiplied throughout his whole body. Each succeeding time that he fucked her he found himself getting that much hotter.
She closed her eyes and grimaced as she painfully accepted his every hot thrust.
"This is really something," he chuckled. "You've got a hot ass and a hot cunt, and I'm taking care of both of them at the same time."
He kept on stabbing, moving that much closer toward climax.
His hips flailed with great excitement as his body kept rocking back and forth.
He felt great freedom in letting that throbbing dick turn itself loose inside her tight pussy.
The longer he kept it up, the better he felt all over.
His body vibrated with burning energy as he kept that dick thrusting insistently inside her mound.
"I'm gonna shoot off my rocks inside you," he told her.
He kept thrusting his finger into her asshole. He probed it high into her rectum as his cock stabs grew swifter and he reached the final few stages of activity.
"Oh, I'm there," he announced with a gasp.
The warm white juice shot out of the end of his prick and into her waiting pussy.
A comfortable smile surfaced on his lips when the juice was shooting out of him.
"Does that ever feel good," he sighed. "That's what I call a good fuck."
Now that he had fucked her, he wanted to hurt her. His mind flashed back to the day that she had rejected him and made him so angry as a consequence.
He allowed his head to move down toward her snatch once more. He reached down there and started to chew on her pussy.
The tears surfaced in her eyes and her body trembled helplessly as he bloodied her snatch with his teeth.
He then reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife.
"How do you like this little souvenir?" he asked her with a sadistic grin.
She closed her eyes and grimaced.
"So you don't want to face the music?" he chuckled.
He got up from the bed and walked over toward the chair where she had placed her panties and bra.
Burt picked up the bra and looked inside it.
"So you've got a thirty-six bra, huh?" he laughed. "I thought your tits were a little bigger than that. I could have sworn you were a thirty-eight. That's all right, though. I'm not going to hold it against you. Thirty-six looks just fine to me, particularly when they're distributed that beautifully."
He moved back into bed with her and allowed his tongue to work sweepingly around those solid breasts.
Burt continued to hold the knife in his right hand while he permitted that tongue to move with diligent speed around her breasts.
The longer that tongue worked around her tits, the more eager he became to carry off the next phase of his activity.
He began to bite her breasts. He did it until the blood surfaced from them.
He wanted to warm her up for the activity that would follow.
When he withdrew his teeth from her tits, he looked at his knife. He then looked back at her breasts.
"Now I think I'll carve myself a little souvenir," he laughed.
He repeated the routine that was becoming all too familiar to him.
On her right breast he carved a three, then proceeded to carve out a six on her left breast.
When he finished he got up from the bed and admired his handiwork.
He observed the lump and the black and blue mark on her jaw. He observed her bloodied mound, and the blood that covered various parts of her breasts.
Burt then looked at her face. Her eyes were red and moist. She looked at him with desperation. He could see the message written on her face, which was that he should leave her alone at this point.
He walked into the bathroom just long enough to wash the blood off of his knife.
Burt then left the apartment, stopping in the bedroom doorway just long enough to wave and smile at his helpless victim.
He decided to continue wearing his disguise until he got to his car.
He kept the gun handy inside his jacket pocket, in case anyone happened to venture nearby and became too curious.
He made it to the car without any difficulty and drove off quickly.
He heaved a sigh of relief.
"This came off better than any of them," he told himself.
Some two hours after Burt left the apartment, the nurse came home and discovered her helpless roommate.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Three days after Burt's rape of Phyllis Escobar, he observed a familiar face walking through the door.
It was young Judy Fry, a nineteen year old swinger, who was accompanied by two long haired boyfriends.
Judy, who had a charge account at the store, was fond of giving Burt a hard time. He did not like her. She was a spoiled rich girl who lived in a beautiful apartment in Encino some four blocks away from the store.
She was erratic in her tastes, and liked nothing better than to belittle him if he did not suggest something for her that she thought to be perfectly appropriate.
She wore white slacks and a blue blouse, which brought out her curves magnificently.
She was under the influence of pot, as were her two boyfriends.
Burt immediately noticed the glazed looks in the eyes of all of them, and was not looking forward to waiting on her.
"Good morning, Burt," she said curtly.
"Hello, Judy. What can I do for you?"
"The chick wants a dress, man," one of the long haired men grinned.
"Yah, we want her to look beautiful, you dig?" the other guy said.
"I understand," Burt nodded.
"What Spike and Bernie mean, old man, is that they want to see me in a real groovy dress," Judy laughed. "You think you can come up with something to suit me?"
"I certainly hope so."
"Then let's all have a look, man," one of the boyfriends grinned.
The three of them kept Burt going for the next half hour.
They argued angrily over each dress. If Judy happened to like one, it was for certain that either Spike or Bernie wouldn't.
Regarding the dresses that one or both of the boyfriends liked, Judy would rebel.
"I've shown you just about everything," Burt said with a little bit of anger showing in his voice after the charade had been going on for about a half an hour. "I don't know what else to do."
"Oh hell, let's get the fuck out of here," one of the boyfriends said.
"Don't be so impatient, Spike," she reprimanded him.
"Well, we've already killed a half an hour in this damned place," Bernie said.
"You two shut up. This old man here, he isn't used to hearing all this talk. He's not used to running into people like us."
"Is that right?" Spike looked at Burt and grinned.
"No, I'm not used to running into people like you."
"Well what do you know about that," Bernie laughed.
Bernie and Spike looked at each other, then grinned.
"You guys really think you know it all, don't you?" Burt was on the verge of exploding.
"What's with you, man?" Spike asked. "We're just having a little fun. We're just messing with your mind a little. Hell, there's no need to get all uptight."
"That's right," Judy quickly intervened. "You've got one helluva lot of nerve talking to my boyfriends that way."
"Look, I don't mean anything by it," Burt told her. "Let's just forget what I said, huh. I just don't like all of this arguing and debating. If you want to look at a few more dresses, okay. I'll show them to you. But, let's not do anymore of this arguing."
"Who's arguing?" she asked. "We're just having a little fun."
"Okay, whatever you call it. Would you like to see some more dresses?"
"Yes. I believe I would."
"All right, then right this way. There are a few more that I haven't shown you."
"Groovy," Spike said.
The longer that he looked at Judy, the more impressed he became with her looks. She had long blonde hair that she let flow all the way down to the small of her back. As for her body, it was beautifully shaped.
The longer his eyes focused on those, pendulous breasts that dangled from her tight fitting blouse, the better that he liked them. He began comparing them favorably to the breasts of the other girls that he had known. The ones he had come to possess intimately. He thought about how wonderful it would be to run his fingers around Judy's breasts.
He kept at it for fifteen minutes more. The arguing persisted. Judy would like a dress, but would be overruled by her boyfriends. They would like a dress, and in turn would be overruled by her.
Just as a highly frustrated Burt was on his last legs, having shown her practically everything in the store, she burst into loud laughter.
"I'll bet you really think we're all nuts," she said. "Well we're not. I just wanted to play a little gag on you and I asked Bernie and Spike to go along with me. I wanted to just mess with your mind, man. I guess an old man like you wouldn't understand that, would you, Burt?"
"You mean you never had any intention of buying a dress in the first place?" he looked at her coldly, the anger rising within him.
"Hell no," she laughed. "Come on, guys. Let's go."
Bernie and Spike chuckled, waving at Burt as they walked away with Judy.
In the meantime Burt Niles was doing a fast burn. He thought about telling them all exactly what he thought of them, but thought the better of it.
He decided that it would be extremely foolish to engage in a confrontation with them prematurely.
He had something else in mind. Judy had been the instigator of the whole thing, and he could still hear her referring to him sarcastically as an old man.
It made him detest her, but all the while, despite his hatred he could feel titillation in his cock and balls. She was a lovely girl, even if she happened to be confused, and he would like nothing better than to make her his fifth victim.
He couldn't get his mind off of her for the rest of the day, and when the store closed, he talked Harry Desmond, who had come into the store a few minutes past three, into letting him close up.
"You're such a helpful young man," Harry chuckled. "You really are very nice."
"Think nothing of it."
"But I think a great deal of it, my boy. I'll see you in the morning."
"Right, goodnight."
Once he got through with the receipts for that day, he turned his attentions to browsing through old records of sales.
Burt racked his brain attempting to recall when he had last made a sale to Judy Fry.
The more he thought, the more he concluded that it had been sometime in the middle of the summer.
Something told him that the sale had been made in July, so he checked out the July records first.
He had no success, then went on to August. He discovered that a sale had been made on August 3rd, and he immediately found the bill of sale.
Sure enough, the bill bore the imprint of her charge-a-plate, through which he was able to obtain her address.
He spent the next two weeks checking on her activities.
He discovered that, whereas his other four victims had lived their lives according to clear-cut patterns, the same could not be said to apply to Judy Fry.
She held parties in her lavish apartment at all hours, and went out on dates at various times of the day and night, sometimes with Spike and Bernie, sometimes with one or the other of them individually, and at other times with other young men.
On his days off he checked out the scene at her apartment at various hours, attempting to determine when she went out.
He observed that she was usually alone in the afternoons between one and four o'clock.
She would generally come home from school, then remain in the apartment until afternoon or evening, when she would go out.
He decided therefore to strike one afternoon during his lunch hour.
Since she was located so close to the shop, he viewed it as an easy matter to leave his disguise in the car, then make his move.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He excused himself at a few minutes past one, allowing Harry to take care of things on his own until he returned.
As he got into his car and drove toward her apartment, anger flashed in his eyes. He thought about how she had belittled him and how she had referred to him as an old man. She had made him a laughing stock in front of her two boyfriends, Spike and Bernie.
He pulled the car to a stop across the street from her apartment.
He reached into his glove compartment and pulled out his wig and mask. He reached into his jacket pocket and felt the revolver.
He slipped into the jacket, then got out of the car.
Burt took the elevator to her fifth floor apartment. Since he was striking at lunchtime, there was no activity around the building.
As he got out of the elevator and walked toward her apartment, he felt the anger rising within him all the more. His body was starting to shake and his heart was pounding dramatically.
At that moment Judy was watching a television game program on her color set as she finished sipping a can of beer.
She was clad in a white blouse and sexy blue shorts, and had her feet kicked over the side of the sofa on which she was sprawled out.
She heard the doorbell ring.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"An old friend of yours," he disguised his voice, chuckling.
He was aware of the fact that she knew a lot of men, and he felt that that particular approach would make her react.
"Don't play games with me. Who is it?"
"Open the door and find out."
"Is that you playing games again, Bernie?" she asked with irritation.
"Open the door and find out.
Fully expecting to find Bernie at the door, Judy jumped up from the sofa and moved quickly toward the door.
She flung it wide open, then discovered the man in the mask and the wig. Her eyes focused on the revolver which he held.
"This has got to be some kind of joke," she said with uncertainty.
"Your voice tells me that you really don't believe that," he began talking in his Texas accent.
"Just what do you want?"
"A piece of ass, and if you give me any guff, I'll blow your head off. Now, let's march right into the bedroom."
He walked inside the apartment, stalking briskly in an arrogant take charge manner.
He walked behind her into the bedroom.
"Now strip," he commanded.
His eyes continued to mushroom with heightening approval as she removed her blouse and shorts.
"Now off with the panties and bra," he said.
Once more she followed his command. It made him feel good to know that she was anything but confident at that point.
In place of acting like her old cocky self, she was standing there before him with a look of pity in her eyes, hoping that he would display some compassion. But he wasn't about to do her any favors. He wanted to teach her a lesson while receiving sexual satisfaction.
After she stripped he spent a few seconds just staring at those voluptuous breasts. They were extraordinarily huge, and he was looking forward to playing with them.
He commanded her to lie on her stomach and close her eyes. He did a nifty job of tying her up, binding her hands and feet.
Burt turned her body over, then went to work with his fingers on her breasts.
He reached out and grabbed hold of them, letting his fingers squeeze them painfully.
"Ouch, you're hurting me," she shrieked.
He reached out and slapped her across the face.
"Don't you give me any guff, don't you make any noise in front of me," he said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, with which he gagged her. He didn't want to take any chances. He wanted to make sure that he got more than his share of fun without having to be bothered by possible noise.
He sank his head between her breasts and began to suck the valley which separated them.
The longer his tongue went to work on her, the more excited he became. He let his tongue go to work on her left breast, which he sucked fervently. He then let it go to work on her right breast.
He decided then that it was time to start punishing her, so he allowed his teeth to dig in enthusiastically. He gnawed at her breasts until the skin broke and the blood began to surface.
Her body was trembling helplessly, and Judy Fry was wondering just what kind of animal was attacking her.
By that time Burt's cock was so hot that he needed to put it immediately to work.
He unzipped his trousers and began tugging on his dong, working his fingers up and down it.
Burt picked up a pillow which was resting at the edge of the bed.
"Turn over on your stomach," he commanded her.
As she turned over, he slipped the pillow underneath her stomach. He was seeking to make her an appealing target.
Burt felt that, by propping her up in that manner, her asshole would be in the most vulnerable spot. He wanted to shove that prick into her ass.
"I'm gonna fuck the hell out of your asshole," he laughed.
To get her ready for his assault, he slapped her ass cheeks several times in rapid succession. He was deliberately treating her roughly, hurting her in every way that he could.
He reached out and ultimately pinched her ass cheeks, then let his prick enter inside her anus.
Back and forth his hot peter ground excitedly. She was extra tight in there, and he could tell that, despite how promiscuous she might have been in other areas of sex activity, that she had been fucked few times if at all inside her anus.
His fingers continued to grip her ass cheeks tightly as his cock drilled insistently inside her asshole.
"I really like this action," he laughed, "I really like fucking your ass. It's just terrific, it's a nice ass, I like fucking it, even if you are a bitch. There's nothing like fucking a bitch's ass, particularly when she's got a nice ass like you have."
He kept thrusting it even deeper inside her anus, letting that tool dig deeply into her.
He was grinding out a fantastic fuck, and the closer he drew toward climax, the louder that he began to gasp.
"Just wait until I shoot off my juices in you," he laughed. "Just wait until I do that. You're going to really love that, baby, you're gonna really like feeling my hot stuff."
Now he was squeezing those ass cheeks harder than ever, causing her to experience great pain there as well as in her anus.
He kept on thrusting with great determination, eager to spill his juices into her rectum.
He finally heaved a loud sigh, at which point the hot stream of white liquid shot out of the end of his stick and landed in her asshole.
"Oh, what a fuck, what a fuck, what a fuck," he said.
She heaved a temporary sigh of relief as he turned his fingers loose from her pliable ass skin and removed his cock from her burning anus.
Burt knew that he had hurt her, and that added to his overall satisfaction.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Now that Burt had exploded his cock juices high into her asshole, he felt a measure of both triumph and relief.
He withdrew the pillow from underneath her stomach, then grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her body around to where she was now lying on her back.
She had a pained expression on her face as she looked at him.
"You'd think you were looking at some ghost or something," he shook his head disgustedly. "Dames like you make me sick. I'll bet you're getting screwed all the time by different guys, but when I come in here and give you some different thrills, you think I'm some kind of sadistic monster. Well I know your kind. You're a big hypocrite, that's all you are. You think you're better than I am, but you're not."
He felt the sudden urge to urinate. A grin surfaced on his lips, quickly extending itself throughout his entire face. He not only would expend his urine, he would have some fun in doing it.
"Now I'm gonna show you what I really think of you," he laughed.
He propped his body forward and watched the urine spurt out of the end of his penis.
He burst into exuberant laughter as the warm urine stream splashed against her face.
"How's that for a bath," he laughed. "Nothing like a little warm piss to wake a chick up. You can swim in the stuff for all I care, you bitch."
Her eyes blinked nervously and she shook her head as she felt the warm liquid on her face.
Now he had reached the final point of the meeting. He would take out his knife and carve her up.
She watched him reach inside his pocket and pull out the knife. She immediately began cringing when he opened it up.
"Sure, I'll bet you think I'm out to slit your throat," he said. "Maybe I am and maybe I'm not, but you're going to have to wait and see what happens."
She continued to watch him as he bent over and picked up her bra. He looked inside it and discovered her size, which was forty D.
"Damn but you've got a fantastic set of knockers, girl," he laughed, throwing the bra back down on the floor. "I knew you were big, but I didn't know you were quite that big. A forty! That's really something."
He decided to tease her a little before putting the knife to work.
Burt allowed the knife to slip next to her throat. He pulled it to a halt as it remained perched inches from her throat.
"How'd you like for me to slip it in all the way?" he laughed.
He then withdrew it, moving it down toward her right breast.
"I think I'll carve a little message on your tits instead," he said. "I'm going to leave my calling card. The most impressive thing about you, sweetheart, is the size of your boobs."
He went to work with great enthusiasm as he started to carve the number four on her right breast.
His head bobbed up and down a few times with great exhilaration.
She grimaced and the tears spilled from her eyes as he carved her breasts with the knife.
As his head moved up and down and he began to chuckle, she observed the wig beginning to come loose on top of his head.
It had loosened so little, and moved so slightly, that he did not notice the movement at all. But she did! And it enabled her to discover the identity of her tormentor.
Maybe he could have fooled her with the phony Texas accent, but the one identifiable characteristic through which he could never hope to hide his identity was the white mutation in the middle of his hair.
She got a tiny glimpse of his widow's peak, and observed the white mutation.
Now she knew who he was! It was just a question of whether she would remain alive long enough to tell anyone.
He enthusiastically finished carving out the four, then switched to her other breast and etched out a zero.
He got up from the bed and washed off his knife in the bathroom.
She heard footsteps moving toward her, and her heart began beating more swiftly once more as he returned to the room. She wondered what he would do next.
"Take it easy now, sweetheart," he laughed. "And take real good care of those big tits, you hear?"
He left the apartment quickly, taking off his disguise and stuffing it into his jacket pocket.
Burt hoped that he would be noticed by no one as he made it to his car.
As he reached the street and was crossing it, he observed a young boy riding on his bicycle on the sidewalk.
The young boy never even looked his way, and Burt heaved a sigh of relief when he got into his car and drove off.
A few minutes later he turned into the rear parking lot behind the dress shop. He entered through the back door. Harry Desmond was bidding a customer goodbye.
"Well, you're back," Harry smiled.
"Yes. You can go to lunch now if you want. I'll take care of everything."
"I called the delicatessen down the street and got a sandwich. I might as well stay in the shop the rest of the afternoon. Things are going well and, you know how I am, I'm kind of superstitious, I hate to leave the place when we're having a good day."
"Suit yourself," he shrugged.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bernie's cock was throbbing with great anticipation as he turned the corner and headed swiftly in his Buick toward Judy Fry's apartment.
Sure he would be about an hour early. She was expecting him later, but he often did show up early when he had a date with her. And she always regarded his horniness to be a legitimate reason for showing up prematurely.
He parked in front of the apartment and got out of the car, walking briskly inside.
A few minutes later he was getting off the elevator and striding toward her apartment.
He knocked on the door several times, and was surprised not to hear an answer. He heard a television set on in the living room, and that made him all the more convinced that she was there.
He decided to try the door. He discovered that it was open and he walked inside.
Something struck him as strange as he walked into the living room and observed the color television, but no signs of human life.
He thought he heard something of a gagging sound coming from another room.
Nervous anticipation tugged at his stomach as he walked tensely toward the room where he thought he heard the sound coming from.
It was the bedroom, and he soon discovered the nude body of his lover.
"My God, whatever happened?" he asked.
He ran over and immediately removed the handkerchief from her mouth. He then quickly untied her.
"What happened, honey?" he asked.
"A man raped me, it was awful, it was terribly brutal," she burst into tears.
He consoled her until she stopped crying.
"And I know who did it, I've got to call the police, I've got to call them right now," she said.
"Who was it? I'll kill him," Bernie said angrily, clenching his fists.
"No, darling. You've got to promise me you won't. He had a gun. And he had a knife too. The guy's absolutely crazy. I just couldn't believe it. He's absolutely out of his mind."
"Okay, I promise. Who is it?"
"That guy at the dress shop."
"You mean the creep we pulled the trick on the other day?"
"That's the one," she nodded. "He had on a disguise, but I could never mistake that streak of white hair he's got. He didn't know it, but his wig moved a little when he was moving his head up and down. I saw it then. I've got to call now."
"How badly hurt are you?" he asked.
"I'm hurting a little, but I'm okay. I'll last. But I want that son of a bitch caught."
"Look at the way he carved up your breasts. That bastard. I'd like to kill him."
"Remember, honey, you promised. I'll call the police. I want them to take care of it."
"Okay, okay. What's this guy's name?"
"It's Burt something. I don't know his last name. But I know where he works."
"Better call right now."
"I want to take care of this personally," she said.
Lieutenant Bitterman and Sergeant Casey had just returned from lunch when the phone rang.
"Wonder what the hell that's all about," Bitterman said.
"Hope it's some news about this mad rapist case. I'm really getting frustrated about that."
Bitterman picked up the phone and listened to Judy Fry's story.
"And you say you know where this guy works?" Bitterman's eyes lit up.
Casey was looking at him with great interest, wondering what was happening.
"Yes, I see, Ventura Boulevard. Yes, I've got the number. Yes, I know where the store is. I've been by it before. I know the area. I used to stroll it at one time. You'd better have your friend take you to an emergency hospital, Miss Fry. And we'll take care of this. Thank you."
Bitterman slammed the phone down and jumped to his feet.
"What is it?" Casey asked.
"It looks like the break we've been waiting for," Bitterman said. "Our mad rapist has struck again, only this time, he left a clue behind."
"What was that?"
"His wig slid off enough to where the gal could see his hair. He's got a little white streak through the middle of it. She's sure that it's a guy who works at a dress shop on Ventura Boulevard. Let's go over there right now."
As they drove down Ventura Boulevard, Bitterman philosophized about the case to his partner Casey.
"Do you remember me telling you about just one clue alluding us?" he asked his friend. "I sure do."
"Well, this guy was pretty cagey. That Texas accent was nothing but a phony effort to cover up the way he really talked. This girl knew him. My guess is some of those other girls knew him too. Maybe all of them. If you'll recall, everyone of those crimes took place not too far removed from that store."
"You mean all the girls could have been customers?"
"Yes, and it would be a pretty easy thing for him to get their addresses too."
They parked in front of the store and got out.
They walked inside. Harry Desmond and Burt Niles were both waiting on customers.
While Desmond remained in an animated conversation with a heavy-set young woman, to whom he was trying to sell a dress, the two officers immediately spotted Burt Niles with his telltale streak of white hair, showing a dress to a bespectacled young girl.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" Niles smiled as the two plainclothesmen approached.
"Yes, would you be Burt?"
"That's my first name," he smiled.
"What's your last name?" Casey asked.
"What's this all about? I'm waiting on a customer."
"Police, and you're under arrest," Bitterman flashed his identification and let him see the bulge in the pocket of his coat.
"My goodness," the young girl shrieked.
Harry Desmond excused himself from the heavy-set woman and walked toward the policeman.
"What's this all about?" Harry Desmond asked.
"What's this guy's last name?" Casey asked. "We're placing this guy under arrest."
"Why his name's Burt Niles and he hasn't done a thing."
"Well we say that he's raped five girls, the last one, a girl by the name of Judy Fry only two hours ago."
"But there has to be some mistake," Desmond laughed nervously. "He'd never do anything like that. I know a girl by the name of Judy Fry. She's a customer at the store. But he didn't ever rape her, and I never heard about her getting raped."
"She did," Casey said. "How about Midge Evans? Do you have a customer here by that name?"
"As a matter of fact we do," he nodded. "I believe we do anyway."
"How about Cathy Norris and Grace Berry?"
"I couldn't say about them," Desmond admitted. "You see, I don't know the names of all the customers. I wait on some of them and Burt waits on the rest. Burt, do those names sound familiar to you?"
Burt's eyes dropped toward the ground.
"Yes, they all sound familiar," he said. "What's the use. You'd check the records and find that they're all customers here anyway.
It's in the books. I did it. I raped all of them."
"That's just what we thought," Bitterman nodded. "Come on, you're coming with us."
"But I just don't believe it," Harry Desmond said.
"Looks like you're gonna have to get somebody else to help you sell dresses," Sergeant Casey said as he and Lieutenant Bitterman led their captured victim away.
Desmond and the young girl continued to stare dumbfoundedly in Burt Niles' direction as he was led off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As Burt Niles rode back to the police station handcuffed to Sergeant Casey in the back seat, his body began trembling.
"You okay?" Casey inquired.
Niles did not answer.
"What's wrong, Mike?" Bitterman called out from behind the wheel as he swung a turn at a corner.
"He's acting like he's freezing to death or something. The guy's shaking like crazy." Once more Mike Casey looked over at Burt Niles. "What's wrong, man?"
"Nothing," Niles finally snapped.
"Then what are you doing all that shaking for? It makes me itchy just watching you."
"It's nothing, it's really nothing."
"Okay, if you say so," Sergeant Casey shrugged.
As they neared the station, Casey looked over at Burt again. This time the captured rapist was sitting still. But Casey still observed something that he did not like. Niles was staring out of the window vacantly, like he was ten thousand miles removed from where he actually was.
"Say, Niles?" Casey called out.
"What," Niles replied, never changing expressions.
"Where'd you pick up that Texas accent you used so well with the five girls?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Come on now," Sergeant Casey chuckled. "You know damned well what I'm talking about. You might just as well talk about it now as later."
"Easy now, Mike," Bitterman cautioned. "You haven't apprised the suspect of his rights. Relax. We'll get a chance to talk to him plenty at the station. That's the problem with you young guys on the force. Too many of you think that this business works the same way a Dick Tracy comic strip does. You think you've got to solve every crime by yourselves two seconds after they're committed."
"No, now don't put me down, Dan."
"I'm not putting you down. It's just that it's best to let him be. I think he'll talk later. In any event, we've got the right guy."
"But he's acting so damned peculiar. It really gets me."
"Well don't let it. In this business peculiar people are often the rule rather than the exception."
"I guess that's so, but he was willing to talk before," Casey shook his head.
"I resent the two of you making conversational sport of me in this way," Burt Niles suddenly raised his voice, shouting with desperation. "I'm a citizen and a taxpayer. I have a good mind to sue both of you for treating me this way."
"Sue us!" an astounded Mike Casey quickly replied. "What the hell for?"
"You're badgering me and you're arresting me for nothing more than you don't like my looks. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I plan to notify my Congressman about this. You're gonna pay. You're gonna pay for the way that you're mistreating me. I'm a very patient and considerate man up to a point, but you're pushing me too far."
"I just don't get you at all," Casey said.
"Stop talking to him, Mike," Bitterman called out crisply.
"Okay, okay," Sergeant Casey said.
"I demand to see a lawyer, I want a lawyer right away," Burt Niles shrieked belligerently. Now tears were rolling down his cheeks and the shaking that had ceased once more resumed.
"Calm down now, Burt," Lieutenant Bitterman said calmly. "We'll be at the station in five more minutes. Then you'll have an opportunity to see a lawyer."
"That's good, because when I'm through with you two you're gonna be off the force, your police careers will be finished, you hear, finished, finished," his voice continued to rise.
"Keep it down, for God's sake," Casey said, "before you break my ear drums. I can hear what you're saying."
"You haven't begun to hear from me, you haven't even begun, I'll ruin you both, ruin your reputations on this force, I haven't done anything, I'm a law abiding citizen," he screamed.
"We're just about there, Mr. Niles," Bitterman called out calmly. "You'll get a chance to see that lawyer right away. Just as soon as you'd like."
"I'm gonna ruin you guys, ruin you," Niles repeated with contempt as Lieutenant Bitterman pulled into the parking lot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Now both of Niles' hands were cuffed as he sat in the middle of the interrogation room, his body shaking.
Bitterman set a cup of hot coffee next to him on the desk.
"It might help you to drink that," the Lieutenant said very calmly, doing his best to snap Burt Niles back to reason.
Instead of drinking the coffee, Niles slapped out at the cup with his handcuffed hands, knocking it to the floor and spilling it.
"I don't want your goddamned coffee," he exploded. Now he had broken into a heavy sweat.
A dark-haired man in his early thirties who was clad in a brown suit and was carrying a brief case entered the room.
"Good afternoon," the man with the brief case nodded in the direction of the two police detectives.
"Hi, Dan," both Bitterman and Casey said.
"Burt Niles, this is Dan Curtis. He's from the Public Defender's office and he'd be glad to furnish you with legal representation. He'll apprise you of your rights and defend them in court."
"That's my job," Dan Curtis said, smiling in Niles' direction, attempting to make him feel at ease.
"I never sent for this guy," Niles looked at Bitterman and said angrily.
"You said you wanted an attorney," Bitterman reminded him.
"But I didn't say I wanted him."
"I asked you right after you entered the station with us if you wanted any particular attorney and you said no."
"I don't like this guy."
"Why not?" Casey asked. "Dan's a good attorney. It's his job to defend the accused. He's paid by the county to do that very thing. He'll do a good job by you."
"He talked to you guys and that's good enough for me. You're all trying to railroad me. Get him out of here. I don't want him. I don't trust him."
"Sorry, Dan," Lieutenant Bitterman said sympathetically.
"I understand," Curtis nodded, turning around and walking toward the door.
"Sorry to take your time," Casey said.
"It's all in a day's work," Curtis said philosophically.
Niles would say nothing to the officers for the next hour. He looked up with surprise when Lieutenant Bitterman left the office momentarily.
"Where'd he go?" Niles asked Casey.
"He'll be back," Casey promised.
Five minutes later Bitterman returned with two familiar faces, Judy Fry, Niles' last victim, and Bernie, her boyfriend.
Niles' face turned pale when he observed her.
"Can you positively identify this man, Miss Fry, as the one you mentioned to me on the telephone?"
"Yes, that's him," her eyes dropped down to the floor and she began to sob.
"That son of a bitch, I'll break his goddamned neck," Bernie exploded, clenching his fist and moving toward Niles, who made a move to get up from his chair.
Sergeant Casey stepped in between Niles and Bernie, grabbing the angry boyfriend of Judy Fry by the arms, then by the waist, holding him as he attempted to struggle free.
"Let me go, this guy deserves a taste of the same medicine that he dealt out to Judy," Bernie grunted.
"Relax, he'll get his later," Bitterman calmed him, "ease off, Bernie, that's not the way."
"Okay, okay, let me go," Bernie said.
Casey nodded, turning loose. Bernie then walked to the back of the room and sat down.
"I'm sorry to have to call you in here at a time like this, Miss Fry, but this is awfully important to our case," Lieutenant Bitterman explained. "Now why don't you sit down. That'll make things easier."
"All right," she nodded, sitting down.
"Can we get either one of you some coffee?" Casey asked.
"No thanks," Judy said. Bernie just shook his head.
"I'll try and make this very brief," Bitterman said compassionately. "Miss Fry, you say the man who attacked you was wearing a disguise at the time?"
"That's right," she nodded as her eyes became misty. "He had on this mask and the wig, like I mentioned. But at one point the wig loosened and I saw that streak of white in his hair. He spoke with an accent, but I guess he had to hide his voice, since I did know him."
"All right, then you didn't actually see his face, only that streak of white in his hair," Bitterman said.
"That's right."
"How was he dressed?"
"He had on a jacket, but the pants, yes, they're the same as the ones he's got on now," she said as she took one more good look at Burt Niles. "Also, this looks like the same shirt he had on underneath the jacket. Matter of fact, yes, I know it is. This is definitely the same shirt."
"No, no, it's not true," Niles shrieked angrily.
"Thank you, Miss Fry, that's all we need for right now," Lieutenant Bitterman said.
Bitterman lit a cigarette and stared calmly at Niles as he waited for Judy and Bernie to leave the room.
"How about it, Niles?" Bitterman said. "You might just as well come clean. You told us the truth back there at the store."
"I didn't tell you shit then," he said with hostility. "I' was all scared and confused. I thought you were both gonna beat me up."
"Do you expect us to believe that?" Casey looked at him with disgust.
Niles dropped his eyes toward the floor and fell into silence.
"Well, our fingerprint report will be completed soon," Bitterman said. "We'll soon know, Niles, whether you were in Judy Fry's apartment today or not."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A few minutes later a police detective arrived in the room, notifying Bitterman and Casey of the results of the fingerprint study done at Judy Fry's apartment.
"Thanks, Barney," Bitterman said as the man left. The Lieutenant then wheeled on Niles. "Okay, Niles. Your prints match the ones found in Judy Fry's apartment. How about it?"
"I don't believe it. It's a trick. You're both trying to trap me. I want to see a lawyer.
"Oh shit, we've been through this one time before," Sergeant Casey said disgustedly.
"You can have one if you like, but let's not play games about it like last time," Bitterman said.
Niles lapsed into silence momentarily. Suddenly his body began to tremble and he started bawling like a child.
"Okay, okay, I did it, but I didn't mean to do it," he blurted.
"Our records say you did it five times in all," Bitterman said. "What's more we can prove it."
"Okay, okay, I didn't know what I was doing. Please leave me alone, please, please, please."
Niles' voice trailed off suddenly, after which he collapsed to the floor unconscious.
"Better get a doctor into here, Casey," Lieutenant Bitterman said. "This guy is pretty sick."
"I guess he'd have to be to do some of the things he's done," Casey nodded.
