Chapter 12
LET 'ER RIP, BETTY
It was a week since he had escaped from Betty and strangely enough he just couldn't get her out of his mind. Even sexy Beverly left him unsatisfied. All he could think about was those big powerful thighs and that luscious punishing cunt of Betty's that seemed to have a life of its very own as it stared into his face and commanded him to suck it.
He helplessly obeyed it. He found himself yearning for its wet, tight, warm, hairy lips and hypnotic aroma that sent him into a trance-like state of ecstasy as those big thighs locked his head into place.
The daily spankings and afternoon whippings that she had given him and making him walk on all fours like a dog at her command, had also done something to him. He feared and loathed her for stripping him of his manliness, yet he wanted her like an addict wanted dope.
Something in him was urging him to go back to her and take his punishment that he knew she would give him for running away. At the thought of what the punishment might be, his cock stood up. This made Dan realize that she was quickly turning him into a degenerate! Something he had read about in books, but never thought could happen to him.
Casually looking down at the newspaper, he spotted the name of the psychiatrist that had been working on the Ripper case with the police. The eminent Dr. Landow. A fast telephone call and thirty minutes later found Dan in Dr. Landow's consulting room.
"You sounded very upset on the phone, Mr. Daley. That's why I consented to see you right away without an appointment. By the way, do you mind if I call you Dan?"
"No, not at all," Dan nervously answered.
"I want you to just relax in this soft foam rubber chair and tell me just what's bothering you," said Dr. Landow as he sat across the way from Dan with a pencil and pad.
He was a huge man somewhere in his fifties, Dan judged, with thick gray hair and a distinguished looking beard.
"Where do I start from?" Dan asked, as he sank his head back into the soft chair.
"Anywhere," Dr. Landow answered. "Just talk about the first thing that comes into your mind."
Relaxing completely, Dan began talking and didn't stop until Dr. Landow told him that his hour was up.
"Well, doc, has all this talking I've done told you anything?"
"Yes, Dan," Dr. Landow smiled reassuringly. "You see, we all have a bit of sadism and masochism in us. That's perfectly normal. However, when we have an abundance of either one, then we need help. From what you told me, your father left you alone most of the time with your stepmother when he was on the road selling?"
Dan nodded.
"You loved your father and resented your stepmother very much. You were only twelve, but you were a big boy for your age, and when you were alone with her you deliberately disobeyed her.
"When she tried to punish you, you fought back with your fists. So, the only way she could control you was by taking advantage of the fact that she at one time had been a ballet dancer. By using her well trained legs, she would manage to get your head between them, then turning you over on your side would hold you imprisoned as you helplessly squirmed and kicked until all your energy was spent. Then, by making you promise to behave, she would release you.
' "Now this Betty that you mention. It's not that you're a masochist and crave a beating and want to be humiliated by her, it's a conditioned reflex that makes you feel like a little boy again when she has your head locked between her thighs, and that you're supposed to be punished for being naughty.
"In short, Betty becomes your stepmother whom you have become trained to expect punishment from whenever you have done anything naughty, or didn't obey her. On the other hand, there is the subconscious desire to beat your stepmother up who, again in this case, is Betty, because she stripped you of your manliness, by overpowering you and leaving you lying there helpless between her legs.
"Therefore, you're neither a masochist nor a sadist, but your childhood complexes will have to be worked out as we go along.
"As for this girl, Betty, well..." looking at his watch, "suppose we put you down in my appointment book for the same time tomorrow, two o'clock?"
"All right, dad, I mean, doc," Dan quickly corrected his slip of the tongue statement.
"That's all right, son. You were unusually fond of your father, from what you told me. About that evening when he had come home drunk and mistakenly took you for your stepmother and then his embarrassment the next day when he had realized what he had done to you-"
"You're not suggesting that I'm queer, are you?" asked Dan, suddenly becoming alarmed.
"No, son. Sometimes when we have great admiration for someone, we make certain sacrifices to make that person happy. Here, drink this." He gave Dan a sweet tasting tablet with a glass of water. "This will relax you. I don't usually give a patient more than an hour of my time, but you interest me, and we all have our idiosyncrasies. Even I have. That's why I became a psychiatrist."
Dan began to feel dizzy. "That pill you gave me. It's making me..."
"You'll be all right in a minute," Dr. Landow cut in as he walked Dan over to the desk and bent him over and began unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.
"What are you doing?" Dan asked hazily.
"It's all right, son," he reassured him, as he gently patted his ass with one hand and removed his pants with the other.
A second later he too was out of his pants with his big scrawny legs and bulging cock. "Ouch!" Dan yelled as the doctor rammed his rod into his ass.
"Just like old times, eh son?"
In and out he shoved his shit-covered cock as his big balls bounced against the cheeks of Dan's ass in a maddening rhythm that rocked the heavy desk.
"Hold still, son," he yelled, "here I come."
"Yes, dad," Dan heard himself reply meekly.
It was two hours later when Dan came to and found himself completely dressed and sitting outside in the waiting room. His ass-hole felt like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper. He jumped up as the door opened and in came a big fat nurse.
"I want to see Dr. Landow," he almost shouted.
"He left two hours ago, but you have another appointment with him tomorrow at two o'clock."
"No, I must see him now!" he shouted. "What's his address or home phone? I have to have it!"
"Sorry, sir, I cannot give out that information." Seeing the desperate look in Dan's face, she stepped back and said, "Please don't start anything or I'll have to call the police."
This acted like a splash of cold water to his face. "Okay, I'll be here tomorrow at two o'clock. But you can tell that old sonuvabitch that when I get hold of him I'm going to break his head!"
Ignoring his threat, she looked at the appointment book. "This was your first appointment today, will you pay by check or cash? That will be fifty dollars."
"What!" Dan yelled, as he waved his fists. "If there's any paying to be done, that old bastard will be doing it in blood!"
Fifteen minutes later found him in Ringo's Bar downstairs across the way from Dr. Landow's office, having his sixth straight shot of whiskey. That faggot bastard drugged me into thinking he was my old man then rammed me and I'm supposed to pay him fifty dollars for that, he fumed as he downed his seventh drink. It's all that Betty bitch's fault.
Still fuming, he ran over to the phone booth then checked himself. If I tell her what really happened, then she will really have me pegged for a fag. I'll play it cool, he thought, as he dialed her number from that piece of paper she had given him with her address on it.
"Hello, Betty. Now listen and don't interrupt. After that incident between you and me last week, I went to a psychiatrist. You probably heard about him. Dr. Landow. He was the one that worked with the police on the Ripper case.
"And I gave him the whole story about you. He said I should stay away from you. In fact, he said that he's going to have you investigated and may have to commit you to an asylum. Well, what do you think of that, tough girl?" he laughed drunkenly.
"You're a pretty brave guy over the phone," she said and hung up.
"Well, I sure screwed her day," he laughed.
"I'll let her stew in her own juice then call her up tomorrow and tell her it was all a gag. After all, I don't want to spend my life hiding out from that Amazon. But tomorrow that old bastard Landow is going to get his lumps!" he muttered as his finger rubbed his aching ass-hole.
It was ten a.m. sharp when Dan opened the door of Dr. Landow's waiting room and walked in. His nurse obviously had not come in yet, which was what Dan had hoped for. Seeing the neatly printed sign on the waiting room table which read, 'The doctor is now in,' Dan rubbed his left hand over his right fist.
"Oh, Dr. Landow," he called out purposely in a high pitched voice through the closed consulting room door. "It's me, your sonny boy! I hope you know a good dentist because you're not going to have any teeth left after this session."
Swinging open the door with his clenched fist, he was shocked at the sight that greeted him. There, lying on his desk with his legs spread wide open and his pants hanging down over his ankles was Dr. Landow; his cock and balls had been amputated and judging from the still burning cigarette in the ashtray, Dan knew that it must have just happened, probably while he was on his way up in the elevator.
There was something strangely familiar about all this, but Dan knew that he didn't have the time to figure it out now. Unless he got out of there before the nurse or anyone else discovered him, he would be charged with murder, especially after the threats he had made yesterday to the nurse on what he was going to do to the doctor when he got hold of him.
Her testimony alone could cook his goose, and any attempt to tell of the doctor's sexual attack on him surely would be disbelieved. The only thing in his favor was that when he had called the doctor for the appointment yesterday, he was so embarrassed at the idea of going to a psychiatrist that he had given him a phony last name and address.
Making sure that the hallway was clear, he quickly took to the steps to avoid running into anyone in the elevator who could possibly identify him later. As he reached the lobby, a familiar figure loomed in front of him. His voice stuck in his throat as he saw it was Betty glaring at him with hatred.
"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?"
Grabbing him by the throat, she began banging his head against the wall. Before he could gather his wits, she jammed her big knee hard into his groin, then spun him around and gave him a karate blow over the back of his neck. Down he fell unconscious at her feet.
Lifting him up over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and clutching on to a black plastic bag with her free hand, she carried him out into the street and hailed a cab.
"Give me a hand, will you?" she asked the driver. "My husband had a little too much to drink and passed out."
"Sure, lady," he answered as he jumped out of the cab and held open the door while Betty placed Dan's unconscious body on the back seat.
It was a fifteen minute ride to her place, and as Dan began to stir, wham, another blow right to the back of his neck and he was out like a light again.
"I can manage," she said as she paid the driver and gave him a five dollar tip.
Then, tying the plastic bag around Dan's neck, she lifted him out of the seat like a papier mache dummy, and slinging him across her shoulder, carried him up the stoop and into the house.
The cab driver looked after her in awe. "I sure as hell wouldn't want a wife like that," he said aloud, "she could kill that guy with that kind of strength," little realizing that was exactly what she had planned to do.
When Dan came to, he found himself naked with his arms tightly bound behind his back and his mouth taped. Around his chest was a huge belt that held the upper portion of his body tightly fastened to the bed. A couch pillow had been placed under his ass and his legs were spread wide open and securely tied to the posts of the bed.
Then he noticed Betty glaring down at him, eyes blazing with hatred. "You just couldn't let well enough alone. You had to go blabbering that big shit mouth of yours to the head shrinker. Well, now you're going to get jarred. I thought with you it would have ended differently than with those others, but you just had to go out of your way to screw it up."
Dan hadn't the faintest idea of what she was talking about until she said, "That old fag of a psychiatrist of yours sure put up a struggle when I told him that he knew too much about me and had to be jarred."
Dan's blood froze in his veins when he suddenly realized that she was the one that had killed all those people.
"You always wanted to know what I meant when I said jarred. Well, you sure earned the right to know," she said as she wheeled the three large cabinets in front of Dan. Then unlocking the padlocks, she swung open the doors.
Dan's eyes bulged in their sockets as he saw rows of neatly stacked jars with cocks and balls of various sizes floating around in what looked like some sort of preserving fluid. On each jar, neatly labeled, was printed the name and vital statistics of her victims.
"Tins one should interest you," she sneered, as she showed him one marked 'Crazy Jack.'
Dan felt nauseous as he saw the floating organ.
"This bastard promised to marry me, then tried tricking me into whoring for him. When I found out that he was having an affair with that hunchback, I jarred him, then planted all that incriminating evidence in the hunchback's apartment. The idiot always kept his door open during the day, so getting in was no problem.
"Jack told me that he had been in the nut house and under the least little pressure would confess to anything, so I knocked off two birds with one stone. But you had to screw it up by running to that fag doctor and telling him everything.
"Well, he's in no condition to tell anyone about me, and in another five minutes, neither will you be, All these other souvenirs that you see here," she pointed with pride, "were grabbed and gotten from all different types of men throughout the city. Stock brokers, letter carriers, delivery boys, you name it, I got it." She smiled down at Dan.
"You see, this is a hobby with me. It's my way of getting even with the male sex for taking advantage of us women for so long. Now, in your case it's a necessity to add you to ray collection. You know too much. By the way, I put your ass-hole buddy, Dr. Landow, in this jar. See?" She held it up proudly in front of Dan, who was by now petrified with fear.
"I had a nice shiny jar all set up for you, labeled and everything, but since you two were such close pals, I'm going to put you both together in one large heart-shaped jar. Now, isn't that romantic?" she sneered down at her helpless victim, enjoying every moment of his torment.
"Okay, big mouth, enough explanations. Now you're going to get what you earned."
Reaching into one of the cabinets, she unwrapped a blood-stained surgical knife, then grabbing Dan by the head of his limp penis with her left hand like one would grab a chicken by the neck, she stretched it up to his full length while her right hand closed in with the knife.
Dan's screams came out as gurgles from beneath the tape, making no impression whatsoever on her. In fact, she looked fascinated at what she was about to do, when suddenly the sound of a club banging against the door diverted her attention.
"Open up in there. Police!" A heavy voice boomed.
Betty, quickly throwing a bedspread over Dan, yelled out, "Just a minute." Then closing the cabinets, she threw the surgical knife under the bed.
"Open up or we will break it down!" the heavy voice boomed again, followed by the shaking of the door.
"Okay, keep your pants on," Betty shouted, swinging open the door. With a snarl she looked at the two police officers. "What the hell do you two jerks want?"
For a moment, both were taken back by her greeting, then the biggest of the two said, "We have a complaint from a cab driver that something fishy is going on in here."
"Like what?" she sneered.
"Like you carrying a man up here claiming he's drunk, while the driver saw you knock him unconscious with a rabbit punch, in the mirror, and like you claiming to be his wife and you didn't have a ring on. Okay lady, where is he?"
"Why don't you take a look?" she asked, her eyes blazing with hatred.
'That's just what we intend to do," he answered.
A fast look around the room revealed nothing.
"Now that you had your fun, I'm taking your numbers and reporting you for forcing your way in here without a search warrant."
"Now wait a minute lady, we didn't...."
"Shut up!" she yelled. "And get the hell out of here!"
The big burly cop paled, then looking foolishly at the other officer, both started walking out when they suddenly heard a muffled cry from the bed. Drawing his gun, he ordered her to stand up against the wall while the smaller officer ran toward the bed and pulled off the bedspread.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said, looking down at Dan's nude bound body.
"So, you're going to report us?" said the policeman that was holding the gun on Betty. "I think there's a lot more here than meets the eye. Untie him."
Within seconds Dan was untied. Ripping the tape off his mouth he yelled, "She's a murderess, officer. She's the Ripper! She's the one that killed all those people, and she was about to kill me, too!"
While both men's attention was riveted on what Dan was saying, Betty swung into action. Grabbing the policeman by his gun hand, she spun him around and twisted his arm painfully up behind his back, causing him to drop the gun to the floor while the powerful fingers of her other hand dug deeply into the back of his neck.
Then she began shaking the big man as though he was a rag doll.
"Help! She's killing me!" he yelled to the other officer who started running to his aid.
Betty whirled, still holding on to her helpless victim and gave the would-be rescuer a kick right in the groin that sent him flying backwards crashing right through the window to the street below. Then, forcing the big man, who she held like a child in her steel grip toward the same window, she said, "I know you boys want to be together-"
"No! No! Don't!" he begged as she shoved him screaming through the already broken window.
Then, turning like a prehistoric monster, she eyed Dan who was so shocked from what he had just witnessed that he just stood there looking at her with disbelief.
"I'm glad you stayed," she said calmly, "because I'm going to start by ripping your head off, then your arms, and then your legs, and..."
"No!" Dan broke from his trance-like stare when he realized what was about to happen to him. But he had waited too long. She had cornered him against the wall. "Help! Help!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as she closed in on him.
Grabbing him by his head, she slowly began twisting it backwards with her powerful arms, then everything went black.
When Dan came to, he was sitting up in a chair wrapped in a blanket with Lieutenant Condon holding a broken ammonia capsule under his nose.
"You're okay, lad. Take it easy," he reassured him.
Looking around the room fearfully, Dan asked, "Where is she?"
"Don't worry about her. She won't bother you again or anyone else for that matter. It's lucky we got here in time. In another second she would have broken your neck."
"Lieutenant, she's the ripper. She..."
"Yes, I know," he cut in. "She confessed to everything. Psychos like that usually do once they're caught."
"You mean...? "
"Yes," the lieutenant answered. "She probably will be committed. No one in their right mind would have done the things she did." Getting up the lieutenant asked, "Do you think you can get dressed and home by yourself?"
Feeling his neck and head as he got up, Dan answered, "I'll be all right, thanks."
"Oh, by the way," the lieutenant paused as he neared the door, "she left a message for you."
"What was it?" Dan asked.
"She said to tell you that she's sorry."
"Well," Dan said, "I'm not one to hold a grudge. After all, she was..."
"I didn't finish," the lieutenant cut in. "She said she was sorry that we didn't get there five minutes later."