Chapter 6
Ruthie was easier than Tim had expected.
He had found her working as a waitress in an all-night diner and he had remembered the way that she had turned him down a decade ago when he had asked her out for a date.
Ten years ago, she had been the head majorette in the high-school band, a girl who looked good as she strutted down the football field in front of the trombone section. As a majorette, she wore a tight, little outfit, but, even on the coldest nights, she looked comfortable, warm and sexy as she threw her baton up into the air and caught it with ease. He had worshipped her for a year because he had been in the trombone section and marched right behind her when they appeared on the football field.
And then, one afternoon, he worked up his courage and called her and asked her if she would like to go out.
"Nope," she said with a short, nasty sound and then she hung up the phone.
That had hurt him almost as much as Nina's laughter and he still had to march behind her during their senior year, still had to watch her little butt move so sexily in that tight, short majorette uniform.
He was a bit surprised to find her working as a waitress in a diner. He had thought that she would do something more interesting with her life. But, when he saw her moving through that diner, he knew that her life was just as drab and worthless as Nina's life was. Tim thought that maybe it was this small town that tired out women without ever giving them the chance to live at all.
But he could not feel sorry for Ruthie, he reminded himself.
He had to work out his revenge on her. He had to use her to prepare for Donna, the worst member of the trio, the one who had hurt him badly a decade ago.
So he asked around town about Ruthie and he found out that she was not married at that time, although she had been married twice before. She also had a bad reputation—or a good reputation, if you wanted to look at it that way. Ruthie, the men in town said, would fuck anything that looked like a cock.
Tim knew that he was going to get to her very quickly then.
She worked the late night shift in the diner, waiting on tables and sassing the old men who sat in there until dawn.
Tim went in one morning just before dawn and sat down in a booth. She came strolling up to him.
"Wait will it be?" she said, putting her hand on her hip in a surly manner as she handed Tim the menu.
"Aren't you Ruthie?" he asked, his face showing quizzical tension.
"Yeah," the waitress said with a short, tired grin, "do I know you?"
"Tim," he told her. "Tim Abernathy. I used to play trombone in the high school band."
"Oh, Timmy," she said, grinning broadly.
"Tim," he said softly, correcting her. "Just Tim now."
She looked him over with a quick glance and she grinned.
"Hey, Tim, you have changed," the waitress said.
He looked her over too.
"You haven't changed that much, Ruthie. You are still very pretty."
And he was right, in a way. Although she was tired and worn-out now, there was still a little spark left in her. She was still something like the majorette that he had worshipped in high school. Her body was still slim and sexy and her waitress uniform showed it off pretty well.
It was going to be a pleasure, he thought, a pleasure to work his revenge on her.
"What time do you get off, Ruthie?" he asked her.
"Seven," she said with a grin.
"Maybe we could go some place and talk over old times, if you aren't too tired," he suggested.
She leered at him with that sexy look that small-town women have when they know that a man wants them and when they know that they won't mind being had at all. And she was very direct with him.
"Maybe we can go back to my place and do more than just talk, Tim," she said.
"Okay," he said with a grin.
"But you have to order something. It is only six o'clock and you have to order something if you plan to wait for me."
"Sure. Bring me some coffee and a piece of pie."
She suddenly turned into a waitress again. She pulled out her pad and started scratching on it with a pen.
"What kind of pie?"
"What kind you have?"
She looked over her shoulder and squinted.
"Apple and blueberry and cherry, I think," she said.
"Which kind is the best, Ruthie?"
"They all stink, really," she said softly with a grin. "But the cherry is the best, I guess."
"Okay, Ruthie," Tim said with a playful leer, "bring me your cherry."
She laughed.
"Oh, honey," she said. "I got rid of that years ago. Too much trouble to keep it clean. But I will bring your pie."
She moved away from him and glanced over her shoulder and winked at him.
It was simple as that, so simple that Tim felt a little sorry. He had been looking for more of a challenge with Ruthie. But then he steadied his nerves and remembered that Donna would probably be the biggest challenge of them, enough of a challenge to make up for the ease with which he had fucked Nina and with which he was going to fuck Ruthie.
Ruthie brought him his pie and then went to wait on other customers.
At seven she came walking by his table. He left the money for the pie and coffee there and followed her out. In the parking lot of the diner, he handed her a ten-dollar bill.
"What's this for?" she asked.
"Your tip, waitress."
"Hey, thanks," she said, tucking the bill into her uniform pocket. "That's a nice tip. But I hope to get an even better one."
"I think you will be pleased with the other tip," he said, rather proudly.
He rode in her car to her house. He left his car parked at the diner. She lived nearby. He would be able to walk back and pick up his car after he had gotten his revenge.
She lived in a little drab house on a back street in town.
As Tim followed her into that house, he remembered the things that he had learned about handling women.
They had already decided that they were going to fuck, but he must not look too eager.
He must be sure of himself and remind himself that he had to make Ruthie think that he was doing her a favor.
But he watched her move in front of him and he knew that she was going to do him a favor too.
He knew that this high school majorette from his past was going to be hell on wheels in bed.
When they were in the house, she walked directly to the bedroom and Tim followed her.
In that bedroom, she stood there and looked at him again. Then she complimented him as she started to unbutton her white, waitress uniform.
"You sure have changed, Tim," she said. "More than I would have ever thought."
She pulled off the uniform and stood there in her bra and panties and hose and shoes.
Tim studied her. She had long, blonde hair that still looked clean and fresh. And her slim, sexy body was tanned. She probably spent a lot of time swimming, he thought. He remembered that she had been on the swimming team in high school and that she had been very good at that sport. But he also remembered that she had been good at another sport in high school too.
Like Nina, Ruthie had gotten a reputation early as a girl who liked to fuck.
But the strange thing was that no boy ever called Ruthie a whore. Guys did call Nina that sometimes. They would still fuck her, but they did not seem to respect her. Tim supposed that any high school boy had to respect a majorette, no matter how many cocks she had had in her.
Even now, as a lowly waitress, there was something about Ruthie that commanded respect.
But Tim had to watch himself. He could not respect her too much. He had to get his revenge.
He had not even started to take off his clothes. She sat down on the bed and pushed her hose down. She kicked off her shoes and then took the hose off.
"Sometimes," she said, "at the end of a long night, I just want to fuck so that I can put my feet up."
Tim laughed at that dirty, little joke but he knew that there was some truth in that.
Ruthie looked at him with hunger in her eyes. She sat there in her bra and panties and she noticed that he was not undressing. That worried her and her worry showed in her eyes.
"What's the matter, Tim?" she asked. "Don't I turn you on?"
"Yeah," he muttered softly, looking at her with his eyes hard.
He wanted to make her feel like he could see right through her. He put his fingers under his belt and stood there and smiled an evil smile. He saw her shiver when he did that.
"What's your fantasy, Ruthie?" he asked.
"What?"
"What do you dream about when you think of the best sex that you could have?"
"Gee," she said, "I don't know."
He knew that she was lying. She just did not want to tell him. He did not say anything.
He knew that his manly silence would bring the truth out of her. Truth always came out of a woman to fill the vacuum left by silence in a bedroom.
She shivered again and looked at him as he stood there.
Then she told him her fantasy.
"Well," she said, "I like to be sort of overpowered, you know. I like to think that there is a man who is so strong that I could not resist him even though I want to. It has never really happened to me. I have never been raped or anything like that. And I don't want to be. But I just like to make believe that maybe I don't want it. But actually I do want it and the man, well, he sort of knows."
By the time she finished telling him that, she was looking down at her legs, afraid to look him in the eyes.
She probably thought that that fantasy meant she was some kind of pervert, Tim thought.
A woman in a small town like this would not know that most women have a fantasy like that.
"Okay," he said, pulling off his shirt. "Okay, Ruthie. I am strong. You fight me."
She looked up at him and that spark, that girlish spark, came back into her eyes.
"What? Do you really mean it, Tim? No man has ever played a game like that with me before."
He stepped out of his shoes and then he opened his jeans. Before he pushed them down, he grinned at her.
"I will play with you, Ruthie," he assured her. "You can fight me and act like you don't want it."
He knew in his heart that he liked the idea too, the idea of having Ruthie fight him.
It would make his revenge mean more, Tim thought, and it would give the tired, young waitress a thrill too. He pushed his jeans down and stepped out of them. She gasped when she saw the size of his cock, but he did not act as if he noticed her gasp.
He just stood there naked and looked at her as she sat there in her underwear.
Before the game started, he wanted to make sure of one thing.
"You want to get naked, Ruthie, or do you want me to tear your underwear off you when we play?"
The way he said it told her that it did not make any difference to him.
She thought about it for a moment and then she decided and spoke to him softly, a little fearfully.
"Go ahead and tear the underwear if you want," she said. "I got other underwear."
"Okay."
"Okay."
There was silence in the room for a few seconds as the two people looked at each other, each getting into the part that each one was about to play.
It was an easy part for Tim. As a rapist, even a man who was acting out the part of a rapist, he could use all of his anger.
He just remembered the way that she had hurt him, the way that she had hung up on him when he was a skinny, little boy.
It was obvious to Tim that Ruthie did not remember that. He would have to remind her later on.
But, for now, he would just play the part of a rapist with her. She was looking at him, waiting for him to make his attack.
Then, quickly, he charged her.
He growled at her with an animal sound as he fell on her and pushed her back on the bed.
She yelled out but he put his hand over her mouth and held her down with his own strength as she struggled against him.
"Oh, my god," she gasped. "Don't hurt me. I never hurt you."
"Fucking slut," Tim growled. "You are going to get it. You have been wanting it, going about and teasing those men in the diner. I see you in there and I have noticed you teasing me too. Fucking whore."
She did struggle against him there on the edge of her bed, but he held her down.
Tim moved his hand inside her bra and pulled on it as she tensed her body. He knew that that pulling hurt her, but he knew that that was the kind of game that she wanted.
And, if that was what she wanted, he decided, that was what he was going to give to her.
The bra finally popped open in the back and he pulled the thing off her and bared her firm, pointed tits. Although she was struggling, wiggling under him, he could see that her nipples were hard with excitement, and he knew that she was really enjoying this little act.
It was her dream come true, her brutal fantasy come to life.
He put his hand on one of her tits and rubbed that tit roughly. She started to cry out again, and he stuffed part of the bra in her mouth and shut off her scream.
"Keep quiet, bitch," he snarled, "or I will do more than just rape you."
Her eyes were wide with fright, and that fright suddenly froze her. She stopped moving under Tim.
She lay there like a statue under his strength and looked at him with fear.
Tim did not know for certain why she had suddenly frozen there. Perhaps it was just another part of her fantasy. Perhaps she had started to wonder if this was safe for her. After all, Ruthie did not know him very well. She might be thinking now that she had made a mistake, that he might be crazy and really want to kill her.
For whatever reason, she lay under him and stared up at him as he mauled her tits with his hands.
Then he moved on the bed and grabbed her arms and pulled her up on the bed where he could fuck her more easily. She came with him, like a sack of something that was being hauled.
She lay there, very still, but she never took her eyes off him. She never blinked her eyes either and that bothered Tim. He thought that that was not right.
He slapped her face and snarled at her again.
"Blink your eyes, bitch," he said. "Don't stare at me like that."
And then she batted her eyes and he knew that she was still conscious, still alive, though she was still frightened of him.
He moved his hand roughly down her body as she lay there with part of her bra stuffed in her mouth. Her arms were stretched back on the bed and he could see the soft, wet hair that grew under them.
Looking at that hair, he put his hand in her panties and started to rip those panties off her.
He held her down with one hand and lifted her panties with the other. He listened to the slow, ripping sound that the things made.
And Tim knew that she heard that slow, ripping too, and that she felt it deep in her cunt and in her heart.
He tore the panties off 'of her and looked down at her wet, light-haired snatch.
There was a lot of hair there, brownish in color. He glanced back at her and grinned with an evil look in his eye.
Then he looked down at his half-hard cock and growled at her.
He rolled over on his back as he said it.
"Suck this cock, you slut."
She did not move there. She just lay there with that bra in her mouth.
He ripped the bra out of her mouth with a heavy pull and she gasped. Then he grabbed her blonde hair and pulled her toward him, aimed her face for his cock.
"Suck it, slime. Suck that cock and get it hard."
And then she did it. She held his cock up in her hand and she moved her face over it and opened her mouth.
She lowered her face and impaled herself on that cock and the rapist sighed as he felt that warm mouth around his throbbing organ.
"Yeah, suck it. Suck it, bitch."
She sucked with a slave-like devotion. But he held his hand in her hand, just so he could remind her that she was at his mercy, that he was the rapist and she was the victim. As she sucked on his cock, he decided to tell her the real reason that he had returned to Victory, the real reason for his raping of her.
"I asked you out one time, Ruthie," he snarled, "and you hung up on me. You were not even civil with me. You thought that your fucking cunt was a gold mine, and you thought that I was not good enough for you."
When he said that, she suddenly stopped her sucking, her bobbing up and down on his prick. He yanked her hair and she sucked again, but he knew that she remembered now and he knew that her memory of that time that she had been such a bitch to him would add to her fear of him at that moment.
He growled at her again, letting her know that he was really going to work out his vengeance on her. He wanted her to know that she deserved this kind of treatment from him.
"Now you yearn for me. Now I am going to give you the fucking of your life, Ruthie. I am going to play your little fantasy game to the hilt with you. Then you will know just what you missed when you hung up on me more than ten years ago.
His cock was hard by then, hard and ruthless and ready to enter her.
He pulled her hair, pulled her off his prick and threw her back on the bed as she winced in pain and stared at him with that terrible terror in her eyes.
Like a true rapist, he pulled her legs open with his hands and looked down on her oily snatch.
"Very nice," he snarled. "Very nice indeed."
And the rapist that was Tim moved over her and lifted her pussy toward him and looked into her frightened eyes. He kept his eyes on that sign of real fright as he drove his cock into her pussy with a manly force.
She gasped a little bit and then she sighed. She could not help herself. She was enjoying this experience, this realization of her fantasy, even though she was really terrified of this muscled, naked dark man.
As he fucked her, she responded to him with her body, but her brain kept replaying that scene that he had reminded her of. She remembered it now, how she had been fucking at her home one afternoon and how he had called her and asked her out. She had not meant to be that short with him. She might have even gone out with him. She thought that Tim was sort of cute, even then. But she had been fucking, fucking two boys at once, fucking Bob and Roy, and she wanted to get back to them and let them fuck her some more.
But she knew that she would never be able to explain that to Tim, not with the anger that he showed now.
And she thought that it was really not much of an excuse. She should not have answered the phone in the first place. She had only answered it because she had been afraid that it was her mother calling, checking up on her.
Now all of that did not really matter, Ruthie thought.
Now Tim was fucking her and her body was responding to him and he was driving deep into her pussy with that huge cock of his. Finally, she just surrendered and stopped the fantasy game when she sighed to him.
"Oh, slam it to me, Tim. I love it Fuck me harder and harder."
And Tim did what she wanted him to do. He rammed his cock deep into her and then he moved his hips and she felt like she was going to explode with that huge cock in her wet, loving, sex-drenched pussy.
She had her legs around him, but he was staying away from her. He was holding himself up and fucking her from a distance, she thought. Only his cock was close to her and his cock was really in her, slamming the back of her cunt with a power.
She loved his anger and she knew that she deserved that anger and she surrendered to that anger with lust in her throat.
"Fuck me! God, that is good! Oh, Tim, you fuck so well!"
And she squirmed there on the bed and all of the tired feelings that she had had at dawn, after a night of work at the diner, left her. That was what she really liked about fucking early in the morning. If a man was good, if a cock was good, that cock could fuck the tired feelings right out of her, she thought.
And Tim was making her feel newly alive with his cock at that very moment.
"God!" she screamed, twisting on the bed and fucking him with his rough rhythm. "God! That is good! I am coming!"
And Tim looked down on her and knew that he had given her pleasure and taken his pleasure too.
This revenge had been sweet and fairly easy, had taken only a couple of hours.
He knew that the final revenge would be more difficult. He knew that Donna was not going to give into him so easily. As he finished his fucking of Ruthie, as he fucked the blonde former majorette and watched her come and felt his own orgasm coming close, he thought about Donna, the worst of the three, the hardest of the three. And he knew that his revenge on Donna was going to be the fucking sweetest of all.
He growled at her with lust and anger mixed in his throat.
"Your cunt is good, bitch. I am coming too."
"Yes, come," Ruthie gasped. "Come in my bitch cunt, you rapist."
And then they were back to the game that they had played with each other.
Tim did not mind going back to that game at all.
It was just fine, an excellent game, he thought.
It was the perfect game for an avenger to play with his victim.
And thinking that, he battered her cunt with his cock and started to come deep in her and fill her with his hot, avenging semen.