Chapter 6
Ipark in the garage and pull the bag from the backseat. Taking it inside with me as I head straight for the gas fireplace. I click the buttons to turn it on and then open the bag to grab the items from within slowly.
Tossing the rags in first, I watch as they catch fire and crackle away into dust slowly. Nothing remains as I glance at the bag with curiosity. Do I burn the outfit? The wig? Fuck it.
I toss the green dress and blonde wig inside the flames.
My eyes burn as the material catches on fire and burns away within moments.
I remove the silver knife from the purse before tossing it into the flames.
When all of it is gone, I toss the bag and keep the heels.
They wouldn’t burn right, probably. It’s not like they will search my shoe closet.
I head for the stairs and take them two at a time as I make my way to my bedroom.
Straight for the bathroom where I lay the knife in the sink to bleach.
I grab some fresh clothes and toss the red wig into the closet with my others.
I shower again. This time scrubbing every inch of my body with soap.
I reach the apex of my thighs and grab my suctioned dildo from the wall and adjust myself into the corner of the shower where I like to film. Alibi time. I hit the button on the wall to start the recording and spread my leg on the low bench as I slid the dildo into me inch by slow inch.
I lean my head back with my eyes closed as I fuck myself for the camera. I used one hand to slide the cock inside of me and fuck myself slowly. The other I used to play with my nipple. Inch by inch, I take the thick monster cock until I am panting with need.
My mind goes back to the man and the crimson liquid that coated us both. I moan out loud and fuck myself harder. My nipples pebble as my needy little cunt wraps around the cock buried inside of me. My walls clench as the scene flashes through my mind.
How I’d fucked myself on his fingers and then once I’d slit his throat, they had twitched and fought inside of me like they too were trying to destroy my pussy. Instead, they were trying to save his own life. Too bad it was already far too late for that.
I moan as I dip the monster cock in and out of me faster.
Pulling and tugging on my nipples as I cum for the camera.
My legs shaking with my release before I crumble to the shower floor and fuck myself deeper with the cock.
The camera follows me down and I look right into it with my mouth open and a moan escaping my lips as it drags my orgasm out of me for a second time.
Fuck, that was amazing. I blow the camera a kiss before pressing the button to end the recording and then sitting on the floor of my shower as I catch my breath. I clean off the cock and stick it right back to its place on my shower wall. Perfect.
Once my high comes down, I stand up and finish showering before climbing out and wrapping a towel around my body. I take a moment to pull the bleach out and clean the knife in the sink before coating my hands in the offending liquid. Its strong smell makes my nose turn upwards, but it’s necessary.
Once cleaned, I rinse off the chemicals and then return the bleach to its place beneath my sink and carry the knife to the bedroom, where I place it in my nightstand drawer. Everything is now in its place. I head for my computer in the next bedroom and smile as I boot her up.
I need to edit the video of the shower scene and upload it for my subs really quickly. They will enjoy the behind-the-scenes shit. It isn’t out of the ordinary for me and it will give me an alibi for where I’ve been. Who’s going to question a sex tape of a lonely woman at home?
I pull up the feed and then watch it over again to make sure it looks okay before cutting it off at the kiss and hitting upload to the system. I title the video- “Relaxing with my Monster Cock”- and hit submit.
I sit back in my seat and grab a pack of cigarettes I’d left beside the monitor. Grabbing one out, I light it and drag in the smoke until my lungs threaten to burst. I release the smoke out of my mouth in a slow exhale.
I did it. I made it out alive. Now to survive the next twenty-four hours without getting caught. If I can do that, then I’m home free. It’s less likely the cops can catch me the more time passes.
I was careful. I made sure that nothing could come back to me as a person. The simplicity of the plan and how well it played out makes me believe that I really did it. I made it out of there after slitting that man’s throat and fuck if the high isn’t something that makes me want more.
I didn’t think I would enjoy it so much. That the thrill and desire wouldn’t be that amazing. It was perfect. Better than I could have imagined. I want more. No. I need more. The thrill, the blood, the desire… I require more of what I had tonight.
Sex, blood, and adrenaline.
Iturn on the news and curl into the couch as I sip on my cup of coffee. It’s nearly ten in the morning and I fully expect the scene that is on the TV and I smile. Knowing that the swarming hotel on the screen is covered in cops because of me. They are there because of the dead body I left behind.
It’s both terrifying and amazing all at once. Fuck. I really am a psychopath. I shrug. Ah well. This world isn’t meant for sympathy from me. They made me the villain so long ago that I can’t be bothered to really care anymore.
My life wasn’t easy growing up and I’ve seen more horrors than I know how to actually process. So this is one of the easiest things I can settle on when thinking about what I did. I may have killed someone, but I’ve seen worse things.
So as I watch the little people run around on the screen while I sip my coffee, I’m almost sure footage of Pheobe will surface soon.
She’s the last one to enter and exit that room and I know that I will be identified as the blonde bombshell murder suspect soon.
The real question is, will they be able to find the real woman behind that blonde wig?
Did I do a good enough job that I hid all of my tracks as I left the scene last night? Hiding a body in the city isn’t possible, so the best bet was to leave it behind and cover my tracks in other ways. There are people that get away with murder every day. Will I be one of those lucky few?
I swallow the warm liquid down as I watch, fascinated at what’s happening at the hotel.
Nearly half the cases in a year are never solved.
For many reasons, but I want to make sure the reason I’m not caught is because I was stupid.
I want to make sure there is nothing more than video of my coming and going from a scene.
Maybe I can one day learn how to get rid of the cameras, but for now, makeup, wigs, and clothes will do the job of hiding who I am.
At least I hope it will. I made sure to change my facial structure with heavy contours and highlights.
I didn’t look anything like my gothic self that I normally am in public.
I made sure that it was even vastly different to my nonmakeup facial features.
It’s not a guarantee, of course, but surely it isn’t in the realm of possibility that a shitty camera in a hotel will capture enough of my face to make an identification from.
The news crew cuts to a reporter standing in front of the hotel as she explains the new info that she has gathered. I ignore her as I watch the body roll out in a black bag and wheeled into a truck that’s been backed up to the door. That’s him. The man that I killed.
Somehow, my pussy clenches around nothing as desire pools into my core. Adrenaline is the most likely cause for my new found horniness that has arisen inside of me. I swear I need someone on their knees as they eat my pussy while I watch the news.
The thought makes me hum in appreciation, but then I clench my thighs in frustration.
Even the ones I can call would kill me this early in the morning on a Sunday.
While I had planned all of this throughout the week, ever since that photoshoot, I hadn’t planned on how much I would want to fuck someone.
I wasn’t sticking that little weasel’s cock inside of me.
He’s lucky he was allowed to finger me. I wouldn’t dare let him slide inside of my pussy without knowing him or his history.
My job is worth more than that and I won’t fucking compromise that for some dick when I have plenty of cocks sitting at home waiting for me.
It’s my off day, so maybe I can call up Jessica later. Maybe she will be up for some pussy and a small behind-the-scenes camera action. Another bit of my alibi. What psycho would film themselves together with someone else the day after a murder?
Yes. I need a good fucking and then maybe I will feel better. It won’t have my bloody factor, but a girl can dream. Something has broken open inside of me last night and I don’t want it to end anytime soon. So I need to be careful about my next moves.
Too soon and I will end up getting caught.
Too far apart and I may lose my mind. Today’s plans swirl in my mind and I smile as I finish my coffee and the reporters turn to other news as the coroner drives away with the body.
The scene is no longer worth their time and efforts as the story dissolves into the cop’s jurisdiction.
I change the channel and switch over to Netflix.
Something to get my mind on something else for a while.
If I can. I open my phone and order some lunch to be delivered in about an hour.
I’m not hungry yet, but I know it won’t be long before lunch is here and I’m starving while having to wait for food to arrive.
With my phone open, I send a text to Jessica to come by later for some fun if she has some time. I don’t expect a response for a bit so I just drop my phone to the cushion next to me and open up some show about murder and watch as the documentary explains why the killer was caught.
So much for getting my mind off of murder. Will I ever be free of this feeling? Am I a slave to it for the rest of my albeit probably short life?
If so… then fuck it. I will make sure that I spend every moment living it like I want to. I will take some of the pitiful excuses of human beings with me while I can. If that is sleazy rich men, homeless addicts, or maybe some pedos… then so be it.
Either way, I can’t stop now.