Take a Deep Breath
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2017 by harry lime

Suspense Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Billy Bob is a pervert and a serial killer. Deputy Doris Night's job is to get the proof needed to put him away for the rest of his life behind bars and away from decent society.

Caution: This Suspense Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   NonConsensual   Rape   Heterosexual   Crime   Humiliation   Rough   Sadistic   Snuff   Spanking   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Necrophilia   Oral Sex   Petting   Sex Toys   Water Sports   Foot Fetish   Leg Fetish   Violence  

I refused to consider our baby-faced pervert to be the notorious serial killer that no less than three States were searching for with priority status. It was a matter of record that Billy Bob was about as weird as they come, but he had never been accused of an actual violent act inflicting pain on a victim in any way.

It pissed me off that he had stolen my treasured running shoes and my smiley face panties from my school locker a long time ago. Still, that was no reason to punish him physically now for his perverted ways and his annoying attitude to females in general.

Our hunted killer was a real “sicko” that seemed to enjoy the long sessions of torture that he used extensively now with every victim he selected and isolated in a remote location for his perverted fun and games. It was a sign that he was slowly changing into a monster in front of our eyes with an accelerating cycle of violence that needed fresh blood a little bit sooner every time. On the other hand, this risk-taking downward spiral was good for our side because it furnished additional insight into his area of containment and his modus operandi.

We knew a lot more about him these days than ever before and the Federal units were poised to move in and make a final search to flush him out and eliminate him from their list of active serial killers.

I happened to interview one of the young women that Billy Bob had annoyed recently and was surprised at her lack of interest in telling us anything about his actions after the last New Year’s Eve party up at the crossroads when a bunch of young females got sick ingesting some bad pills manufactured south of the border. It was late in the afternoon, when she finally admitted to me that the prick had handcuffed her to the stove and undressed her down to her socks and shoes whilst she was still in a state of semi-conscious confusion. I tried to pin her down, but she started to cry, making me feel like an ass-hole about the whole thing.

“He made me get down on my elbows and knees and he stuck a thing in me back there that looked like some animal’s bushy tail with a thick rubber plug on the end. It was the rubber thing that he shoved up my backside and he didn’t use any lube to make it go easy.”

I wrote it all down in my little green book and she held my arm and whispered,

“He did things to me that I just can’t tell anyone because he told me if I ever told anyone, he would come and finish me off like I was a stool pigeon. As God is my witness, I don’t even know what the hell a stool pigeon is, if you know what I mean?”

She hadn’t reported this to anyone at the time and I began to revise my opinion about Billy Bob right then and there. If he had scared this one into keeping her mouth shut, I wondered how many others he had bluffed into shutting their mouths about his obscene actions that made him sound more like a serial killer than just your regular run of the mill perverted ass-hole.

I knew it wasn’t standard interrogation process, but I decided to give him a little up close and personal test to see his level of depravity in taking advantage of females under his control. I knew the handcuffs and chain were sturdy and the camera in the two-way was grinding away with silent witness to his every little nuance of movement.

I walked up to the window right next to him and stared out at the gaggle of press folks and the downright nosey and interfering general public that always seemed to smell blood in the water better than a hammerhead shark in shallow water. Then, I leaned forward slightly just to show Billy Bob I wasn’t hiding any tricks up my sleeve. He took the bait and his hot little hand started snaking its way up the inside softness of my legs and slowly made a tortured path to my panty edge like some insect with fearsome plans. I spread my knees slightly like I was trying to get a cramp out of my lower extremities and his grubby little fingers started to dance an Irish jig right on the center of my womanhood like he had some sort of program for making a female take his foolishness and ignoring the downright humiliation of her God-given dignity.

I wanted to see if he would be quick to leave the path of sheer lust and move over into the fast lane of dishing out pain to show he was in complete control. In a way, I was disappointed that he continued to act like a greedy little boy in a candy store and never switched into serial killer mode in that short encounter. No, it was not approved tactics, but it helped to convince me that we had the wrong guy in Billy Bob and that he was just another ass-hole jerk in a town that had its share. It was a lot quicker than asking a lot of silly questions and reporting a lot of crap that didn’t make squat in the long run whilst the serial killer kept running up his winning score.

The radio in the squad room started stuttering like Jimmy Smith back in grade school, when he was excited and tried to tell the teacher he knew the answer, only it couldn’t quite make it past his fluttering lips. I went out on some dates with the not bad-looking Jimmy after high school and he was sort of the same way with his love-making, leaving you with a feeling you had been fucked but you weren’t quite certain.

As luck would have it, Old Jimmy got his ass waxed over in God-forsaken Iraq by a roadside bomb that didn’t have anything against him personal. In a way, it was probably better he never got married and didn’t have many friends to mourn his passing except maybe his widowed mother that was a bit touched in the head from even before he was sent to school. He would have been an ideal suspect for this serial killer case because he was often the brunt of jokes by lots of females with a nasty streak in them that started in their pussies and went all the way up to their lack of grey matter between their ears if the truth be known and people didn’t try to hide their natural orneriness like a bunch of dang fools.

 
There is more of this chapter...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.