Chapter 13
As usual he was fully prepared. Everything he needed to fulfill his twisted passions were in the car when he pulled up in front of the hotel the next morning.
There were no cars in the streets, and if one came alone, he could spot him in the quiet of the suburban-like area.
Looking up at her window, he saw that the blinds were still drawn. That meant that she was still asleep, the lazy whore, good for nothing but snoozing and exciting men as stupid as she was. Well, he would soon use her for a good purpose at last, and at the same time put an end to her useless life.
Because that was his mission in life-to make useless things do something worthwhile, and then destroy them so that they would not be a blight on civilization any longer.
He parked the car and went to the lobby to call her room. It took her a long time to answer it and for a while he thought that she had gone out.
But then she answered at last with a sleepy, "Hello."
"Miss Clark," he said, and he heard her gasp, "This is the photographer again. Have you changed your mind about going with me? You might as well because I'll keep after you until you do."
"Where ... where are you calling from?" she asked.
"Never mind that. Answer my question."
"Yes," she said. "I'll go with you."
"Good. Just go out and walk east, I'll drive along and pick you up."
"But why don't you come and get me?" she asked.
"I can't find a parking space at your hotel. Do as I say, please, and you'll be all right. I pay a good rate, Miss Clark; a lot over the usual. I'll be looking for you."
He hung up and moved out swiftly, getting into his car and going off just as he saw a tall, young man come rushing out of the hotel.
"Just as I thought," he smirked. "There was a cop up there with her. Trying to trap me, were they. Well, just for that, I'll go harder on her than I planned. And no cop's going to get me, either."
He gunned the car to test it and it roared like a jet, picking up speed at an amazing rate. One of the things he had done to the old Car was hop up the engine to race-car specifications, making it faster than any of the police cars used in Nevada.
The car, like it's owner, was deceptive, and far more dangerous than it looked....
Rocky was at the phone, ringing headquarters, and while he waited for the call to be put through, he said to Rene, "Now just do as he asked you to. Walk along the street until he picks you up and don't worry about a thing. Our men will be watching you every minute."
"But why can't you pick him up now?" she asked. "You know his car and what he looks like."
"My partner told you sugar. We have to catch him in the act. We don't have enough on him now to convict him."
He turned to the phone, and speaking quietly, gave the information regarding the killer and his activities. "We've got him right where we want him," he continued. "Are the plain-clothesmen planted?" He listened for a moment, nodding, then hung up.
He took Rene by the shoulders. "It's all set, Miss-uh-Rene. Patrol cars are on every corner, starting three blocks east of here. The second he picks you up, they'll be right behind you and following. Just go along and don't worry about a thing. He'll head for the desert and we'll form a parade."
"Will you be there, too?" she asked.
"Of course. The cars will be in touch with each other via police radio., I'll know where you are and I'll be right after you."
They looked hard at each other, and then she was gone, unafraid, sure that she was safe, so long as Rocky told her she was, and anxious to help trap the fiend.
He was waiting for her a block east. Two blocks short of the first patrol car. He opened the door as Rene came up and she, thinking that she was secure and protected, stepped in, smiling at the mild-faced man with the gap between his front teeth.
He backed into a driveway, turned on the street, and sped past the hotel headed downtown just as Rocky came out to get into his car. The policeman saw the speeding Olds, gaped at it in amazement, knowing that the fiend had tricked the police and U-turned to chase after it, frantically calling the station at the same time to inform them of the switch in the murderer's tactics.
"Just sit nice and easy," the man said quietly to Rene, suddenly swinging the car into a side street.
"I won't give you any trouble," she said, smiling and still unaware of what he was up to. "I like to pose for people like you."
"That's good, because I like to use girls like you for my work." And he smiled to himself as he gunned the car through side streets toward the desert, away from town, away from the police trap he had sensed had been set for him.
Rene sat quietly and at peace, knowing that Rocky would be as good as his word and would protect her. The man drove carefully now that he was away from the area of the hotel, making sure he passed no lights and exceeded no speed limits. He went north beyond the remote areas, and still he kept going.
Miles north of any habitation, he turned right and east along a deserted road and went to the edge of the desert Rene saw no cars following, but it didn't worry her. The police would keep hidden, she knew, and then strike at the right moment. All she had to do was play along with this weird little man, this mild person who certainly didn't look like a fiend to her.
Suddenly, he turned right again and into a sandy road between some dunes. When he brought the car to a halt, they were alone and out of sight of the road.
"Here is where you pose for me," he said. "Get out, please, and take off all your clothes except your bra and panties."
He looked at her as she stripped. This would be the best he thought to himself. This girl was his dream, the one he had always thought about in his secret desires. And now, her creamy flesh exposed to his avid eyes, she was more beautiful than ever.
He looked forward to seeing that tempting flesh decay before his eyes, watch it fall apart as it steamed in the sun while she was bound from head to toe.
When she was ready, he tied her as he had done Dale. He made sure she was helpless, a bound, helpless thing, twisted into a shrunken shape, her boobs jutting out, her stomach pulled in, her thighs yanked back and her heels were joined to her wrists.
When it was all done to his satisfaction, he squatted on his haunches before her and said. "You think that the police are protecting you, don't you, Miss Clark?" He smiled as he saw her eyes widen in surprise and horror. "Well they're not. I've managed to trick them and now they don't know where you and I are. So you are going to be all alone with me and I'm going to do with you exactly as I did your roommate. You, Miss Clark, are going to die ... slowly ... and I'm going to watch you die and take photos of you."
Rene gasped, her throat tight with fear. She had worked with many cameramen who took these kinds of pictures, but they had all been gentlemen about it Sure they had made passes, but they had been normal joes, not like this character who was smiling at her, the gap between his teeth wet with spit. And now she had let herself be trapped in spite of all the police could do....
And then, bound and chained, helpless physically, she started to think, to try to remember what she knew about men like this, the men who bought pictures of girls tied as she was tied. She now remembered what one photographer had told her:
"They try to get kicks out of pictures of tied girls," he had said. "Well, for a while, they do. But then it wears off, and they have to try something else. They never really find satisfaction, the poor devils. They have to go on more bizarre routines."
They have to try something else....
"Tell me," she said, trying to be calm, "when you did it to Dale, were you happy?"
His eyes narrowed. "Yes. For a while. Then it wore off. That's why I had to come for you."
"But when you do it to me, it'll wear off, too, won't it? Then you'll have to look for another girl and take another chance on the cops catching you."
His eyes grew sad. "That's the way it has to be. I know I'll be caught one day, but there's nothing else you can do when you're like I am. You see, I hate women and I have to destroy them all, one by one."
She swallowed. The next thing she had to say would mean life or death to her. "Do you ... do you get all excited and thrill watching a girl die when she's tied?"
He nodded eagerly. "How do you know? How do you know?"
"Because I knew a man like you. However, he's free and happy today ... because he tried another way ... a way that made him more excited than ... than this way, even."
He fell on his knees before her. "Tell me!" he pleaded.
"He let me tie him up," she said softly. "He had never tried it before. He always tied up others. And then when it happened to him, he found it was even better."
His eyes widened as he thought this over. "Are you sure?"
"No more danger," she said. "No more cops trying to get you. And if it works, I'll do it to you all the time, every time you need it. Just you and me-no one else will ever know."
"And it works?" he asked eagerly. "You saw it work?"
"I saw it work. The other man said it was heaven, better than anything he had ever known. Better than watching others die."
His eyes filled with tears. "You do understand, don't you? You do know what I want! No one else ever knew! They all think I'm strange and a fiend."
"I know. But if you're tied, you'll be helpless and weak; you'll know what it means to be bound, just as you want others to feel. Then you'll really know how your victims suffer ... and all without any danger to you."
"All right!" he cried happily, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Tie me! Tie me!"
His fingers worked feverishly as he loosened her ropes. When she was free, he threw himself before her, tearing off his clothing.
"I want to know it all!" he sobbed. "I want to know the agony of the sun cooking my flesh! Tie me tightly!"
She worked, binding his hands and wrists just as he had done to her while he gave her instructions to make sure she did everything just right.
Finally she stood before his bound body, her hands on her hips, looking down at his helplessness, naked in the blistering sun streaking into the canyon. Her bosom heaved with excitement, perspiration ran down her stomach, her eyes drank in the weakness of this monster who had killed her best friend.
He looked up at her statuesque form with worshipful eyes. "You're right!" he gasped. "This is wonderful! And now as I look at you, I see a woman for what she really can be-beautiful, powerful, dominating!"
There's one thing more," she growled. "You're a loathsome scum! You tortured my best friend and killed her and you want to do the same thing to me and to other girls! Now I'm going to really let you suffer!"
And as he stared at her, unable to move, she slipped his leather belt out of his trousers. Grasping one end of the belt, she raised it high. "You think you fooled the police," she spat, "but I fooled you! Now ... suffer!"
Down came the belt, whispering through the air, slashing downward at his helpless nakedness ... again and again.
He screamed with pain as the belt cut into his flesh. Her arm went up and down relentlessly, lashing away at him, striking every part of his body, leaving welts that, after a while, began to bleed.
Suddenly, he stopped crying out. His eyes rolled backward and his head lolled, dropping lifelessly. And still she did not stop, all the hatred and, fear in her soul expressed now through the slashing of the belt upon the man who had killed her roommate and wanted to kill her.
It was only when panting, her breasts rising and falling rapidly, her stomach contracted in the effort to breathe, that she stopped at last and the belt fell from her weakened hands.
She was shaking in a spasm and fought to control it.
"Oh, no! No!" she gasped to herself. "This is awful! I was actually beginning to ... enjoy what I was doing to him! I've got to stop it!"
Hate, she discovered, was very close to love, and now she was really beginning to understand the strange, perverted passion of the man who lay before her, a helpless hulk.
But she pulled herself together, forcing her mind and her body away from the thoughts and passion that had come so close to overpowering her. She dressed quickly, found the car keys in the man's pocket, started the car and drove out of the canyon road.
Her hatred for the man was gone. She felt only pity.
But there was a sensation between her legs that started to run through her body as she started to beat him with his belt That sensation was still in her.