Dark Thrill at the Capital Grille

“There she goes again.”

“What?”  Sam looked at me innocently, sipping his whiskey with the last bite of steak.

“You know what, so stop acting stupid.”  I kicked him playfully beneath the table and regarded him slyly.  “That’s the third time she’s flashed you in less than five minutes, and that wimpy guy sitting across from her is totally oblivious.”

“Fia, I’ve no idea what you’re on about.”

“Panties or commando?” I asked, glaring into his green eyes.

“Commando.”

“Then, you’re guilty as charged,” I smirked.  “Muff or smooth?”

“Definitely smooth.”

“I suppose you want to fuck her?”  Sam nodded as she headed for the restroom with her purse.  “Same modus operandi?”   Sam nodded again.  “I’m getting about tired of girls coming on to you in restaurants, just for your information.”

“And you would have me do what about that?”

“Be rough with her,” I hissed.  “Mess her up.  Make it worth my while.”  I marched off to the lady’s room in a huff, where I found her applying lip gloss in the mirror.

“You want to flash your bald cunt at my man one more time?”  The other women in the room charged the exit in a panic, certain there was going to be trouble.  They were right.

“I’m sorry?”  The little princess feigned confusion, sporting a deep southern drawl. 

“Don’t act dumb with me, slut.  You know what you were doing, and you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”

“What was I doing?”  I backed her into the corner, simultaneously signaling Sam on my cell that the facilities were clear.

“Let me help you with this dress,” I insisted, ripping the sheer fabric as I jerked down her top, exposing adolescent appearing breasts.  I grabbed a tiny nipple and twisted it violently.  She squealed and leaned over, trying to escape. “Scream again, wench, and I’ll punch your pretty face to a pulp.” 

I shoved her hard into the walls that kept closing ever tighter around her.  Her body thumped against the stiff resistance, dazed by the impact.  “You want to tell me now that you weren’t flashing my date?”

“No, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, weakly grabbing my wrist as if she thought her retaliation would somehow inhibit my advancement.  I reached over and squeezed her other nipple, digging my fingernail into the soft, supple tissue.  Her maroon areolas were smaller than dimes, miniature Bing cherries on a milky white landscape.  Her mounds were no larger than plump, summer peaches.

 Sam finally wandered into the restroom, securing the door after posting an ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign.  He watched me smack the little girl’s titties; leaning her over, wrists locked behind her back, whacking her boobs like pendulous pinatas.  Then, I kneed her in the crotch from behind.  She doubled over in pain.

“About time you arrived,” I barked impatiently at Sam.  “I was just discussing with missy how she’s going to get brutally fucked before I beat her ass black and blue as a back-alley bitch.”  Sauntering over to my boyfriend with a confident, sexy strut, I tousled his sandy hair. “And I do hope my demonstration gave you some ideas about what I expect you to do to her.”  Sam furrowed his brows, concentrating on my demeanor.

The girl moaned in the corner, attempting to recover from a serious pussy punting.  Ordinarily, a sharp kick to the throat would have polished her quickly, but I was in the mood to punish her slowly, to savor this cute vixen’s suffering like a glass of champagne. 

Sam was tenting his trousers and needed release; the restaurant was unexpectedly quiet.  I felt comfortable and eager like a Las Vegas mobster.  “What’s your name, princess?”

“Megan,” she whispered, arms draped across her chest, pathetically attempting to protect her modesty.  Maybe she was attempting to protect herself from me.  It was certainly too late for that.  She should have thought better before flashing her slit in the dining room… though, I’m sure she never imagined ending up on her knees at my mercy.

The little bitch tried her best to stand up.  I was tempted to knee her once again in the coochie, but I knew the blow might make her vomit.  I didn’t want to deal with the smell.

“Ah yes.  Megan had a little outfit malfunction.  Lower your arms to your sides and show Sam what happened.  It seems they don’t make dresses like they used to.”  I grabbed the top and ripped it further until the outfit hung loosely around her hips.  “Slide it off and step out, Megan.  Your mother should have taught you to wear underclothes.”

It was a pleasure to watch her undress… not because she wanted to but because I ordered her to do it.  She was left in her sparkly shoes… no bra, no panties, no stockings.  She must have thought she was going to get some dick from someone other than that sad excuse of a beta male waiting back at her table.  The girl was a minimalist when it came to dressing for dinner.  Too bad I was a maximalist when it came to kicking her ass.  I tossed her dress across the room atop the counter.

 “You’re up, Sam.”

Moments later, Megan was pinned to the wall, her back heaving against the course bathroom stucco that grated her delicate skin like a block of Parmesan.  Her thighs were raised in a ‘V’, flatly pressed to Sam’s abdomen and chest as he pounded his thick prick into her pouting, pink receptacle.  He jackhammered her cunt until the spasms of her climax were as obvious as the tears streaming mascara down her hot, blushing cheeks.

“Forced orgasms are my favorite, Sam.  You can see how she loathes that you’re making her come, and I love how she creams on your dick.”

The back of Megan’s skull pummeled the sheetrock as Sam intensified his thrusts and slowed down his rapid-fire frequency, concentrating on the power of each breathtaking lunge.  I fingered her aptly exposed anus because it was much too accessible to ignore and far too alluring to avoid slicing the puckered knot with my razor sharp, French tip nails.

“It’s amazing how this position lends itself so perfectly to pushing my fingers deep up her chute,” I said.  Sam nodded in agreement as I rammed a second digit into the naughty girl’s rectum, followed closely by a third.  “I bet you’d love to watch me destroy Megan’s tight, little sphincter with my fist.” 

Sam moaned out a guttural, animalistic response that made my pussy ache for his attention.  He was busting her now, battering her nimble, nude body like a punching bag hanging haplessly in the gym.   

Blood spattered on the paint behind Megan’s dirty mind and matted in her cinnamon hair.  She mumbled incoherently about Sam using a condom as I poured out her purse in the sink.  Packages of prophylactics fell everywhere.

“I’m guessing she’s fertile because she’s not on the pill.”  I pocketed a handful of cash before crunching her inhaler, having heard the soft wheezes between her agonizing gasps.  I removed her shoes and plucked off her jewelry.

“How ‘bout’ that, Sam.  She wears my exact size, and these metallic gold sandals are expensive.”  I tried them on, and they fit me perfectly.  “Do you need some help dropping your load, baby?”  It was time for Sam to blow his wad, and I didn’t mind assisting.  He had restrained himself perfectly, done the damage I requested and then some.  Megan lolled in his arms, limp as a crash test dummy. 

I massaged my lover’s sac until it tensed, no rush to have him nut inside this girl’s gaping gash.  I like to edge him when I can, make his throbbing testicles tingle until they climb inside his gooch just to launch their aching ribbons like torpedoes. 

“You’ve literally fucked her damn brains out, Sam.  I think you cracked her candy-shell cranium.  Her consciousness is leaking out like custard.”

Megan sank slowly, unresponsive, to the floor, slumped against the sandpaper surface behind her that excoriated her integument like a wrecker dragging her on a hook around the block, naked and screaming across the angry, black asphalt.  

Now, the screaming was over.  Her chin had plopped down to her chest between her pubescent tits.  Disheveled brown tendrils draped like a curtain across her quiet complexion.  She was in a helpless stupor that made her even more desirable, and I kicked her languid legs wide apart.  

Sam’s semen seeped thickly from her cavernous slit and bubbled down her crack where it pooled beneath her bottom on the tile.  So much for putting on a condom when you can appreciate a sight like this, such a perfect punctuation to a beatdown. 

“Anything else you want?” asked Sam.  I smiled and took his cock in my mouth.  I liked the way it tasted, the salty flavor of a serious reaming.  A little blood.  A little bruising.  A slick coat of ball juice with a mix of vulvar sheer.  I knew I could make him hard again, and I was totally successful.  There had been no disturbances to bother us at the door.  Megan was silent and somnolent, positioned like a centerfold in a raunchy porn magazine with red skid marks on the wall outlining her descent.  There was one more thing I wanted to see.

“Flip her over and butt fuck her, Sam.  I’m rewarding you for a job well done.”

I collected the ravaged dress, assessed the stuff from the purse, and crammed the worthless junk back in the handbag.  There were several curious items that I kept for later use, including zip ties and a leash with leather collar. In addition, there was a fully charged Pocket Rocket vibrator that I thought would feel nice on my clit.  And there was something else too… Megan’s lacy, sheer thong, soiled at the crotch with her musky girl goo.  She had slipped it off for Sam when I wasn’t even looking, probably around the time she arrived in the restaurant. 

Sam plowed Megan’s shit hole into mutilated oblivion as I used her tainted panties to scour the sticky blood off the wall.  “Yeah baby, ruin that puckered southern belle anus,” I encouraged.  “I want to mount her over the sink like a deer head at Cracker Barrel with that faucet half a foot up her sweet Magnolia ass.  Let’s see what they say when they walk in on that display.”

Sam finished inside Megan’s raw rectum with a moan.  It had taken quite a while for him to simmer up a second injection.  Consequently, the devastation was much to my liking and her sphincter was essentially destroyed.  She had nothing to say about it, just lying there drooling on the floor from both ends.

“What are we seriously going to do with her?” Sam inquired, tucking his spent cock in his pants.

“I’ll show you.”  I grabbed Megan by her mop and dragged her flaccid, nude body into a stall, lifting the toilet seat so I could drape her head facing upward with her neck extended backwards over the rim.  Her curls sifted back into the bowl, floating in the water like tentacles. 

I was standing fully dressed in front of Sam.  “Strip me.”

“With pleasure,” he responded, unbuttoning my pleated slacks, and sliding them to the floor.  He removed my pink blouse and unhooked my black silk bra, setting my double D’s free.  Megan’s breast buds were an embarrassment compared to my succulent jugs, and Sam couldn’t keep himself from fondling and kneading them. 

“Panties too,” I added, interrupting Sam’s playtime.  He slipped my G String over my ankles.  I stepped out and straddled the toilet facing him, spreading my pussy lips so he could get a good look.  “You want to watch me piss on her face?”

“You’re so fucking nasty, Fia.”

“And you love it, don’t you, baby?”  Sam leaned over and sucked both my nipples.  “You can have these when I’m finished fucking up your little darlin,” I instructed.  “For now, I want you to watch and learn what happens to girls who come on to you in public when I’m around.”

Megan’s mouth had fallen open from hyperextension, which made it easy to pee straight down her throat.  I filled her up like a specimen cup in clinic, then sprayed the rest all over her dumbfounded expression while she feebly choked on my urine.

“I seriously thought you’d take care of her, Sam.  I guess I’ll have to finish this myself.”  The dainty girl’s breathing diminished while I was squatting on her face… a couple gasps, some shallow panting, then nothing for several seconds. 

In medicine, we call that agonal ventilation, and it’s usually the time we unzip the body bag.  Maybe Sam had pithed her beanie after all.  It was probably just a matter of time till she was done, but I’m an impatient New Yorker who never leaves a snake squirming.

I emptied my bladder and flipped Megan over, folding her on her knees in front of the porcelain throne.  “Dump those packages of condoms in the bowl,” I told Sam.  “The ones on the counter that I stole from her purse.”

“Whatever for?”

“You’ll see in a minute.  Just throw them all in there and give it a flush.”  Sam tossed the whole lot in the piss infused water and sent them spinning down into the plumbing. 

“We’ve just stopped up the toilet,” he said.

“Precisely, Sam.  Flush it again.”  And he did until the crest peaked the levee.  “You see how this works?  You raise up the water level and just plop her head right in the sewer, exactly where it belongs.”

KERPLUNK!!!   Down she went, completely submerged, her hair spreading out like a jellyfish.  The water turned pink, dislodging the crusted blood from the wound on her scalp.  She was perfectly balanced as I pushed her in deeper, arms draped on either side, tiny tits suspended next to the rim.  I spread her thighs grotesquely from behind, highlighting how Sam had stretched both her sloppy, wet holes.

“Her ass and her pussy are both leaking your cum, baby.  I hope your DNA isn’t located in some data bank.”

Suddenly, without warning, the resistance began… flopping and twisting, thrashing water by the quarts.  I saddled Megan’s back, riding cowgirl – crunching her ribs between my supple knees, subduing her at last like a calf getting roped at the rodeo.

“Hand me those zip ties,” I demanded.  Sam passed the plastic ligatures which I promptly strapped around the girl’s forearms, tying them securely behind her back.  “What a rush!” I exclaimed, elated by the challenge and my imminent domination.  “The South isn’t rising again, bitch.”

The South certainly was not rising, and neither was Megan.   She kicked a couple times in her final desperation before I plunged her pretty face to the bottom.   I twerked my bare ass victoriously at Sam, flashing my needy pink wetness.  “Fuck, this turns me on,” I admitted as I glanced back to see him.  “Buzz my nub with Megan’s vibe, babe.  I’m sure she’ll appreciate you making me gush down her back about now!  Oh, the irony of you getting me off with her toy while I’m drowning her ass in the toilet.  It’s totally Porn Hub Alfred Hitchcock Unhinged… beats the shit out of Psycho and that shower scene.

The zing from Meg’s machine blew the hood off my clitoris at the moment that she sucked in her first goodbye gulp.  I was wondering how long she could last without breathing.  I guess the cool water awakened her before I finally put her sleazy ass down.  It warms my pussy to imagine she was fully aware during those last moments that I held her under water, her naked ass bobbing in the air so wet and so thoroughly fucked.

She gurgled for a glorious twenty-seven seconds, bubbles dancing in my champagne… savoring her flavor, kissing her shoulder blades, fondling her breasts as she started to droop.  I was gentle and loving, skimming her skin with my finger pads, swirling my saliva on her pellet sized nipples.  She sank like a ship and relaxed in my arms.

I sprayed my fragrant essence all over her, climaxing for miles beyond the point I released her to gravity.  I was amazed how she hung there, head down in the bowl.  The water trickled out.  Her hair matted to the porcelain contours.  Her soul must have watched me from the ceiling, buzzing my clit and spurting on her face.

Sam and I agreed, we had to get rid of her.  She couldn’t stay in the bathroom and rot.  It was too freaking obvious what happened and who might have done it.  We carried her out back while the hallway was clear.  We tossed her bag down a street drain along with scraps from her dress that we used to clean up the water.

We were gathering our energy to sling her body in the dumpster when a four-door sedan beamed their brights down the alley.  Sam and I froze in terror as a load of young men who looked Mexican exited the car smoking joints.  The scent of cannabis was strong as five of them approached.

“You work here?” I asked.  I wondered if they cleaned up after the restaurant closed.  They just looked at us silently.  Megan was naked and standing between us.  In reality we were holding her up like she was drunk with her sopping wet mane draped across her shoulders.  Who could say what happened to her clothes.

“You want some pussy?” I resiliently asked.  The men recognized the term, each taking a drag from their hemp.  Quiet.  Intense.  “Concha,” said Sam.  “Pucha.”

“Si,” said a man still sitting in the car.  He slowly stepped out.  “We take her off your hands, no?”

“Alright,” I agreed.

“We take for five hundred.”

Sam looked at me.  “You can have her for free,” I answered.  “Fuck her all you want.”

“No,” he said.  “You pay me five to take off your hands.”

“Oh,” I said surprised.  “We don’t have five hundred.”

“Then, we all fuck you too, no?  We fuck you and your friend… take you both.”

“Sam?”  I noticed he had stepped behind me.  “What are we going to do?”

The man approached me, blowing smoke in my face.  He pulled out a knife and cut off my clothes piece by piece until I was standing completely nude in the alley.  Sam watched him force me over the hood of the car. 

He shoved his cock in my cunt.  I tried not to scream as he drilled me, my massive boobs bouncing and swirling on my chest.  He made me come on his wax job, then he blew his fat load in my pussy.  They all fucked me while Sam quietly observed…  fucked me in my snatch, fucked me up my ass, fucked me down my throat until I choked.

When they were done, they shoved me to the curb… naked and spent.

“What about the dead girl?” asked Sam.  “You’ll take care of her now?”

The man from the car looked at Sam and the entire parade of men guffawed.  “What you do with the leash?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Sam.  “It belongs to the girl.”

“The dead bitch?” asked the Mexican.  He chortled.  “If leash belong to her, she should have it back, no?”  The man took the leash and collar from Sam, then attached the collar to Megan. 

He dragged her nude body like a sled down the middle of the alley.  He dragged her all the way to a bright, busy street.  He dropped her and kicked her several times in the head.  He kicked her in the stomach.  He kicked her in the ass.  He rolled her flat on her back and stomped on her tits, then splayed her legs apart and kicked her in the cunt.  He kicked her and kicked her with his black leather boots till the heavy thumping sounds filled the alley like drums.

Megan’s body rolled and tumbled to the beat, leaping off the pavement from each hard, thudding impact.  People walked by as if nothing was happening, fearfully looking in different directions.  The man dragged her to a lamp post and hoisted her limp body up, hanging her by the neck on a metal extension.  No one even acknowledged she was dangling there naked, beaten black and blue to a bloody bitch pulp.

He walked back down the alley to the car, dusting off his clothes.  “Taken care of,” he told Sam as everyone piled into the sedan.  He looked at me curiously, crumbled on the curb.

“Why did you kick the shit out of her?  She was already toast.”  I was curious and a little bit terrified.

“Everyone think I kill her,” he said.  “Not you.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

I nodded.  It made sense to me now, though I didn’t understand why he had helped us.

“You like the show, senorita?  You like to watch?”

I felt a pang of dark guilt in my gut.  “Yeah, I liked it.  You beat her real good.  Why didn’t you fuck her?”

“My dear senorita,” he replied.  “I prefer fucking live ones.”  There was a long pause before he started the car. 

“You’ve got a really nice dick,” I softly suggested.  “I liked that too.”

“And you a really good fuck,” he complimented. 

At the end of the alley where the streetlamps were glowing, Megan’s body swayed in the breeze.  A vagrant stopped by to loosen the cord and bang her from behind against the grey, metal pole.  He carelessly humped her balls deep, no concerns about who might be watching. 

I couldn’t help but imagine the sight of his penis, his hairy erection plowing into her smoothly shaved snatch, the filth beneath his foreskin, and the stench of his thick, acrid semen dripping from her cosmopolitan slit. 

I could see the chancres on his cock from Herpes and Syphilis, the diseases that he buried up her pink, velvet sheath.  When he came, we heard him cry out over the rumble of the engine.  He dropped Megan’s body on the sidewalk and stumbled away in relief.

“Could you maybe hang her back up when you leave,” I asked sweetly as the Mexican put his car in reverse.  It felt like asking him to hook his coat on a rack.

“No, senorita.”  The man smiled.  “You only get what you pay for.”