Turnabout

[gduke]

It was hard to believe I had legitimate business in that neighborhood. The machine shop I worked for had a slew of milling tools reground and I was picking them up on the way to my night gig. The place that did our sharpening had been there since the beginning of time, so it must have been okay once.

I carried two obscenely heavy boxes to the trunk of my car and was on my way. I was rolling through the ghetto when I saw a girl blatantly turning tricks so I foolishly decided on some early evening entertainment.

I rarely picked girls up this way anymore since I had my regular gaggle of whores that I could call. This one looked really good though, and I thought I might add another number to the list. She had the exact soft contours I like, chubby in the ass and thighs without being sloppy. Her outline was a collection of swooping complementary curves, all indicating smooth, yielding flesh.

My tires screeched as I came to a stop and she leaned into the passenger side window.

"What can I do for you, honey?" She said through makeup that looked to have been applied with a trowel.

"Jesus Christ, just get in!" I said, scanning for cops.

I accelerated hard, rounding the first corner to get off the main drag. I slowed to a normal speed and she started talking. "So what do you want me to do?"

"I want to see your tits and pussy while you jerk me off."

"25 bucks," she said hesitantly.

"Yeah, okay," I replied.

"Turn here," she directed.

I swung into the narrow street. I didn't really like the area, but I thought it would be quick, and I had other stuff to do. She squirmed weirdly as I pulled up her shirt and I heard a voice behind me.

"Get out the car" I turned to see a scrawny black guy pointing a gun at me through my open window.

"Fuck!" I thought to myself, "Why didn't I get my A/C fixed before it got hot out?"

I put my hands up and said out loud "It's okay, you can have the car."

He opened my door and said "You damn right I can have the car."

Slowly and carefully I got out, taking the measure of him in the process. He was nervous and wearing crappy gold-plated chains. The gun was a 22, good for a trip to the hospital but rarely fatal. I looked at the girl and she looked sternly at him, clearly supervising. "Get his wallet, too," she snapped.

"Yeah, gimmee your wallet!" He parroted.

I looked at him and at her. If he had the nerve to shoot me he probably would have already. I had maybe 60 dollars on me, and the car was insured for theft, plus I hated it. The only problem was the tools in the trunk. I didn't know how many thousands they were worth. 8 or 10 grand? Even if paid for them, I was still looking at losing my main job.

"I SAID GIMMEE YOUR WALLET!" he said, feigning toughness.

I hate guns. They're for pussies. Most guys who carry them don't have the balls to use them, and this guy had balls like raisins.

"Okay, man. Be cool" I said, reaching for my back pocket. Not for my wallet, which was under the seat, but for the brass knuckles. My fingers slipped through the holes and as his eyes darted around nervously I swung my fist to his face, smashing the bridge of his nose. He grunted and let the gun drop to his side. He brought his left hand up in defensively and I hit him again, crushing his hand against his face. He pulled the trigger and with a sharp "CRACK" grazed his own kneecap. He crumbled to the ground and I stood on his right wrist until he let go of the gun. I took it and held the barrel to his head.

Like I said, a 22 is rarely fatal. Unless it shoots you in the temple. Then it's real fucking fatal. After the gun made a loud "CRACK" he went limp and I wiped the handle on my T-shirt. I threw it on top of his stupid body and turned my attention to the whore.
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She was half out of the car when I grabbed her by the face and slammed her head into the edge of the door. She was still conscious but reeling and I pushed her back into the car. I slammed the door and ran to the driver's side, then tore out of the side street and back onto the main drag, then onto a main artery back to civilization. We were headed for MY territory.

She held her head and groaned while blood seeped from the back of her head into her hair and onto her fingertips. I hoped her concussion wasn't bad enough to make her puke in my car.

My heart was racing and I had a huge boner as we pulled up to my night job. It was half-finished housing development and I was night security. I came in and kept junkies from stealing the copper pipes and the only supervision I had was my boss driving by to see if my car was there. Six months before the first owner had gone bankrupt and there was much more litigation before work started again. Till then it was a ghost town.

I unlocked the door on the model home and pulled her by the hair into the generically-decorated living room. She was regaining her senses as she hit the carpet.

She was getting to her feet and starting to speak, "You motherfuuuuuh!" when I stopped her mid-sentence with my foot in her stomach.

She doubled over and moaned as I pulled the buck knife from my boot. I reduced her clothing to rags, with the exception of her mary-janes and knee high socks. I liked those. The last remnants of her clothing were destroyed and I stuck the knife into the floor. "I'm gonna fucking kill you," her voice trailed off; she was fighting back tears as she laid out prone on the floor.

I was surprised to find that she still had any fight left, but I knew I could make short work of that. I straddled her head with my knees and put the knife to her throat. "No, what you're going to do is suck my cock like your life depends on it, because it does." Of course, I was bluffing. The thing with her boyfriend was straightup self-defense, plus it was his gun. I didn't like it, but it was his own stupid fault.

I did not, however have a problem with sending a whore to the emergency room.

The tip of the knife had broken off when I was stripping her and I dug its broken point into the skin on her neck deep enough to tear a small ribbon of skin loose. Blood ran down to her tits and stained her clothes. She opened her painted whore mouth and I jammed my cock down her throat. She gagged and convulsed but I dug the knife deeper under her skin and she froze, allowing me to pump merrily away, watching the lump in her throat sliding up and down.

I felt semen burning in the root of my cock, so I pulled out and went to work on her cunt. She had smooth, fair skin on her torso with naturally sparse pussy hair. I dipped into her hot slit lubricated with my spit and slid in and out of her delicious pussy while she moved around in small circles on her doughy ass. She covered her face so I stuck the knife blade up under her chin and ordered her "Look at me, whore."

She took her hands away and looked me in the eye.
"So have you ever really turned a trick?" I asked with a grin.

"Fuck no!" She sounded genuinely insulted. "It was just a way to get crack money."

"Too bad for you," I taunted, "if you did what I wanted in the first place you'd be getting high right now." I pulled my cock out of her and shot my load all over her soft tits. I straddled her torso, sat on her stomach and carved a dollar sign and a big number 1 into her chest.

I stood up, zipped my pants and said mockingly, This morning you were just a crack head. Now you're a real, live whore." I laughed, and dropped a single dollar bill that fluttered to rest on her cum-glazed tits.