Lucy Takes A Bath.

LUCY TAKES A BATH

John thought that the three young men and one woman were a little odd
as they came towards him on the running track. They didn't stop and do
a little stretching as most people do or break into a trot to limber
up, they seemed to be heading directly for him. The three men were
dressed for sport in brightly coloured shell suits and trainers but the
young, or girl who was no more than eighteen was wearing a brown
leather jacket, grey sweat-shirt, black leggings and Doc Martin boots.
And chewed gum.
John was a little out of breath as he'd just completed a 100 metres
sprint and considering his age and paunch, still put in a creditable
time of sixteen seconds. He now intended losing that gut and hopefully
knock a second or two from that time. He supposed that they were using
the track to take a short cut through to the flats behind the wood.
They're probably all going to shag the bird lucky bastards. God I'm
getting paranoid about a few kids walking around at dusk minding their
own business, I must be getting old he thought.
No, they were definitely coming towards him, probably wanted to know
the time, He noticed that the young man at the front who was sporting a
crewcut had a fixed look in his eye and stared straight at him, he was
trying to look fierce. 'Oh no, what are these guys up to' John thought
to himself. John saw something in the eyes of 'crewcut' that told him
he was scared, this was just bravado. He'd seen it many times in the
ring all those years ago, Swaggering braggadocio.
Scared shitless.
So John was ready when the young man went to hit him, he rolled with
the punch and his instinct brought that feared right hook smashing into
crewcut's jaw breaking it in three places. One of the other lads had
jumped on his back and he pumped his head backwards 'nutting' him hard
on the nose and breaking it, the other lad was transfixed by this
sudden eruption of violence which was not supposed to be happening this
way round. John grabbed him by his jacket leaping into the air and
brought his forehead down into his would be assailants face, breaking
everything. This had taken less time that it took John to sprint 50
metres.
The girl turned to run but John caught her by the jacket, spun her
around and slapped her hard. There was a violent intake of breath and
she was about to scream 'help' when John punched her a short sharp
right straight into the Solar Plexus. She didn't scream 'help' or
anything else f or that matter, she just crumpled up in a heap barely
able to breathe and wishing she was somewhere else.
The young man who'd jumped on his back with the broken nose was
getting to his feet a might unsteadily muttering imprecations, so John
walked over and kicked him in the balls hard. He made an animal like
noise and collapsed like a dead man. John kicked him hard in the face,
He didn't make another sound. John went over to where the other two men
were lying and in turn kicked them both hard in their testicles. He
knew that that would stop them from walking f or a couple of weeks at
least, and he didn't want anyone following him where he was going to go
now, for he was hatching a plan on the hoof.
My God he thought, I haven't had this much fun since Bosnia. Oh the
spoils of war! He looked around, there was no one, not a sinner. He
went over to the girl, bent over her, and hissed in her ear "o.k. you
fuckin' tart you wanted some action, now you're going to get some". He
held her arm tightly as he marched her to his car making sure that he
kept his body in such a way as to obscure her vision so that she
couldn't see the number plate. There was still no one around. He put
her in the passenger seat and fastened the seat belt. He knew that she
wouldn't be able to read the tax disc from the inside of the car as it
was obscured by the plastic backing, and as women didn't know a Rolls
Royce from a Mini he knew he'd be safe on that score. All she'd be able
to tell the police, if she decided to go to them, was that his car was
red, narrowing the search down to about five million.
He also knew that she wouldn't be physically capable of escaping in
the immediate future, and raising the alarm, he was safe. They were on
the edge of town already and it wasn't long before they got into the
woodland that surrounded it. He would of course have to avoid the
spots that were used by young lovers, although in some ways it wasn't a
bad thing to be mistaken for a courting couple. But he knew the woods
well and found a deserted spot.
He stopped the car switched off the lights and got out. He opened up
the boot and rummaged around until he found a pair of pliers in his
tool kit. He walked to the passenger door, opened it and reaching
across unfastened her seat belt. He could smell her scent mixed
with the perfume of fear. Her teeth were chattering. He was in control
again and excited.
He hauled her out of the car grabbed her by the arm and marched her
towards some bushes. He forced her onto her knees in a pose of
supplication, up to this point he hadn't noticed how pretty she was,
he'd only seen a young girl no older than his daughter. He put this
thought immediately from his mind, her eyes echoed those of the women
he'd had in Bosnia. He was also trembling. He couldn't stop. He grabbed
her chin with his left hand and held the pliers in front of her face
with his right. She was beginning to sob. "Shut the fuck up! you took a
chance and you came unstuck dincha? Now If you've got any ideas about
biting me I'll pull ya fuckin' teeth out with these o.k.? - o.k.!?".
She nodded feverishly in agreement.
"Please don't hurt me" she kept saying over and over again.
He pulled down his track suit trousers he was already big. He squeezed
between her jaws with his left hand forcing her mouth open and shoved
his penis into the gash that was her mouth. He stood there with her
head held in his left hand and the pliers in his right hand, his head
pointing upwards toward the heavens looking for all the world like some
lycanthropic incubus. As he came to orgasm he dropped the pliers and
grabbed her ears forcing his dick right to the back of her throat. She
began to choke, her eyes popping out like tumescent pimples. As he came
she was sick through her nose her whole body heaving in some degenerate
parody of the sexual act.
He threw her from him so as not to be soiled in any way, for he was
married and a respectable man. It would not do to arrive home covered
in vomit and semen. She turned onto her hands and knees retching and
sobbing. John knelt down behind her pulled down her leggings, held her
hips in his hands and thrust his still erect penis into the gash that
was her vagina. He pumped into her muttering 'c'mon c'mon' as they
rocked in this comic sexual travesty. He came again and uttered a
drooling sound just like a baby.
He lay with his body resting on hers for a few seconds then pushed his
hands up to her breasts and fondled them gently saying 'you're
beautiful' over and over again. He finally stood up, gave her some
tissues from his track suit pocket and waited for her to clean herself
up. They walked over to the car in silence. She got in, he strapped her
in, went to the boot and returned the pliers to the tool box.
They drove back to town in relative silence, she staring ahead,
catatonic,
he humming gently to himself. He drove to a quiet street, switched the
lights off, told her to get out, walk away from the car and don't look
back. He watched her go in the
rear view mirror.
He explained his lateness to his wife by saying that he'd met a few of
the
boys in the pub on the way home, he slapped her playfully on the
bottom
then went upstairs and ran a bath.
Lucy had a bath too.