His new client dug her heels into the top of his back and gasped as he brought her home. He continued on for a few more seconds, until the pulsating ceased and her muscles retracted. He brought himself out from between her legs, letting them fall back onto the bed, and she left them open. She was obviously expecting him to start fucking her right away, used to the usual ‘You got yours, now I get mine’ repartee exchanged between participants of a one night stand. He closed her legs and continued working on her, wrenching out every last drop of resistance before he pulled her on top of him and let her have her way. Her appetite eclipsed that of every one of his clients so far, and it wasn’t until she climbed off him for the fifth time and collapsed next to him that he thought she was ready. As was his custom, he embraced her, intending to hold her until she fell asleep. She shrugged him off.
‘Sorry,’ she yawned, ‘but I’m not much of a cuddler. I can’t get to sleep with someone touching me. It’s just kind of off-putting having you rub up against me, knowing where you’ve been - no offence.’
‘None taken.’
It occurred to him as he lay there with his arms folded that he was very offended, actually. He wasn’t a cuddler, either; hated doing it, if the truth be told, but it was part of his routine. Every other aspect of the operation could easily be adapted, but this was his set piece. Once they were out, their bodies and minds were his. It was his way of getting them to sign a waiver.
She did eventually drift off, and he crept out of bed one limb at a time so as not to wake her. He went into the living room, opened his briefcase, and stared. He was stuck, just like he had been with the old woman, but his brain didn’t let him down then and he was determined that it wouldn’t let him down now. His kit was one any militia man would be proud of, boasting enough hardware to stab, hack, lop, gut, garrote, burn and poison his way through any unsuspecting peasant village, but he wasn’t a militia man.
It’s just nerves. She threw you off, just like that old bitch; but you fixed her.
‘Yes, yes I did.’ He nodded.
Damn right you did and you will do it again. Just relax this time.
‘Relax.’
Don’t over think it; just stick with what you know.
‘Stick with what I know.’
What he knew was women, better than they knew themselves. He also knew that smart women, like the one currently slumbering in her fur covered bed, were more adept at lying to themselves than others, and he was the only one who possessed the necessary skill set to make them see the truth. He ran his fingers along the handle of his hammer and sighed, wondering why he kept it. It was a crude, inelegant weapon. Bashing in a woman’s skull and distributing pieces of her brain all over the room accomplished nothing. Yes, they felt pain, but what good was it to punish a smart woman if she was rendered completely senseless after the first couple of blows? He wanted her fully alert while he worked on her, and fully aware that she had brought it upon herself.
Knives were good for slow bloodletting, but the clean- up was Hell. He didn’t use wire very often; garroting left behind D.N.A. and required that the client be restrained, which meant blindfolding them or rendering them unconscious. The reason he didn’t slip her a tainted water when he had the chance was that it would have been pointless; she was far too intelligent to accept a drink in an open container. He could restrain her while she was asleep – his height and weight gave him a clear enough advantage to be able hold her down should she wake up before he had her fully secured, but he would need to be quick, and while he wasn’t exactly lethargic, the downtime between this client and the last had left him weaker.
You’re over-thinking it.
He walked back into the bedroom and stood by the bed, watching her. He would never fool her into letting him tie her up, and she was just as unlikely to be held down forcibly without putting up a fight, so he was left with one option; ambush.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
