Thread: Very Bad People [Feral + miles]

Rand became a different animal when the door closed the three of them into the cabin together. After Bri got the girl into the room safely, he was no longer concerned with her, casting her out of mind, his eyes fixated on the pretty young thing now squirming upon the mattress. The barest of light came through the windows, enough to illuminate the space but he flicked the switch by the door anyway, a lone bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling casting a warm glow like yellowed newspaper. Stalking forward, Rand slipped off the loose button-up shirt he'd had on, tossing it aside and then pulled his T-shirt off over his head, baring a slender, tanned body and flat, semi-muscular stomach. Rand worked construction, so he was able to get outside a lot and the manual labor certainly helped him keep fit, but other than that, he wasn't vain enough to work out. Still, he was formidable enough to overpower Bri on a regular basis and would certainly have no trouble with little Miss Sunday Dress.. From the closet against the wall, Rand got out a small roll of fabric, bringing it with him as he approached the dresser against the wall beside the bed. On it was an old stereo and piled next to it was a dozen cassette tapes. Pushing a button on the stereo, he opened the tape player, taking out the tape that was in there and setting aside. Then, moving his finger in a lazy searching motion, his hand hovered over the row of tapes before finding and selecting the one he wanted, inserting it in the player and snapping it shut. After pushing play, he made his way over to the bed, the deep, jolting piano in the opening of Tears for Fears' Head Over Heels coming from the old speakers. The music relaxed him while he worked, filling him with a sense of nostalgia, remembering playing in his parents living room while his mother cleaned the house to these songs and this music. It also reminded him of the nights of overheard fighting and the beatings he suffered at the hands of both parents, fueling his anger as he brought out the pain again in his victims. The sheets of the mattress were covered in plastic, mostly because the mattress was old and most likely disgusting but also because he tended to make a mess and it was easier to clean up. The girl softly begged him for something, shying away from him as he neared, barely heard as Orzabal started singing in his deep, melodic voice. Rand ignored her fear, setting his fabric pack aside and singing along as he lit himself another cigarette. I wanted to be with you alone... and talk about the weather but traditions I can trace against the child in your face... won't escape my attention, his voice mimicked the other man's tones while he smirked and released breathes of smoke between his lips. Grabbing for the girl, he untied the rope Bri had put around her wrists, preferring to instead tie the red head's wrists to the thin iron bars of the headboard. Leaving her legs free, he knelt with one knee on the mattress, murmuring the song to himself as he opened his pack and looked over his instruments. There was the wire he'd used to choke the second victim with in there and the ball-pein hammer that he'd smashed the first victim's skull with. as the weeks of eluding discovery and remaining uncaught went on, he'd come upon and collected a myriad of other tools and objects that ignited in his imagination a desire to see them used to hurt someone. Pulling out a long cloth, he blindfolded the girl. This was different than the last times and it excited him as the girl begged him No in a shuddering, blubbering voice as he covered her eyes. It excited him even more as he caressed her face and slapped her, the girl shocked by the gestures she couldn't even tell were coming. Her fear was palpable, especially since as Rand inspected his tools, he let her watch him and see them, now being unaware of what he selected or what was going to happen next. Heat began to pulse through his groin, his faded blue jeans growing tight when he pulled out a pair of scissors and cut the girl's blouse open. The bra he also carelessly snipped through, removing his cigarette before bending down and biting a creamy breast, earning him a frantic yelp from his prey. Pausing a moment, he glanced over his shoulder where Bri was, making sure she was staying put, before turning back and plunging his hands beneath the floral print skirt. Trembling thighs resisted his exploring, ungentle touches and he laughed meanly around his cigarette as she first attempted to kick and then order him away. Underneath the skirt, the girl sported a black thong and Rand sat back in minor shock, purring at her, Someone's a naughty bitch. Ha! Pious little slut! To start things off, Rand began with small bits of torture, singing as the tape progressed to the next song. Shout...shout..let it all out! These are the things I could do without, come on ! I'm talking to you! Come on! he sang playfully as he burned her breast with his cigarette. Smacking her with a homemade whip, eventually milky skin turned red with wilts, blood coming to the surface on a few long cuts on her breasts and thighs. Then his fists pounded into her, painting her with young bruises that he'd never get to see ripen like the lovely marks he'd once put upon Bri. During the whipping, the girl screamed with jolted cries, but during the beating she merely grunted and sobbed in agony, all of it getting him more pumped and more heated, his jeans starting to suffocate him. Slipping out of the constricting clothing, long and wiry thighs emerging and 7 inches of hardened cock bobbing free, he let loose a pleased sigh and knelt between the trembling and screaming red-head's legs. Plunging deep inside her warm folds, he held his upper body up and punched her full-force in the face, cutting her screams off and leaving her moaning in pain as he proceeded to fuck her. At one point, Rand looked up from his bliss to catch sight of Bri and he remembered what she looked like when wrestling the young thing beneath him into the car. How determined and angry... how much hate burned in her veins. And that's when the idea struck. Pulling out of the warm, wet pussy and standing from the bed, he wandered over to where Bri sat, unabashedly still hard as he loomed over her. How about you join the party this time? he suggested, lifting a dark eyebrow at her and smirking wickedly. Get up, he ordered, not waiting for her to comply but grabbing her by the arm and lifting her to her feet, bringing her over towards the bed. Standing, watching the shivering girl, legs slightly spread, blindfolded and bottom lip trembling, he rubbed his nose against Bri's ear and neck, prodding her buttocks with his erection as he whispered, I want to see what you can do you stupid bitch. That is, if you have the balls to get your hands dirty and prove you're just as sick and depraved as I am. It was a win-win situation for him. On the one hand, Bri might be reluctant and not actually want to do this. Even if she refused, he'd force her to hurt this girl and he'd get off on both women's discomfort and humiliation, while also finding a reason to punish Bri for her resistance and something to hold over her head for the next time he got the urge to do this. On the other hand, if Bri obeyed and did well... this would be quite the show for him to enjoy. The desire to kill the girl was inside him, longing to spill the young woman's blood and watch the life slip from her, but he wouldn't mind letting Bri play with her a little bit first. All around me are familiar faces... worn out places, worn out faces... he sang to her echoing the voices on the tape player before shoving her towards the bed and their still living victim.