Ahriman The Evolution of a Serial Killer 18
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Introduction: Ahriman means Devil or Evil Spirit in Middle Persian. He took one last look around the room and decided it was ready. He was ready. Mother was ready. It was time.
He left the house, making sure to arm the security system. He knew that Mother wouldnt try to go anywhere–she couldnt move without his help now–but he had to keep the others out. If they got in and saw the room, they wouldnt understand. Mother understood, though. She had practically told him how to furnish it.
Pulling out of the drive onto the main road, he checked his mirrors often to reassure himself that the others werent following. The twenty mile drive into the city took him a quarter of an hour, and he smoothly pulled his black Ferrari into the parking lot of the club. He looked into the mirror one last time and smiled. It was the smile the others expected from anyone they met in a place like this, but it went no deeper than the muscles of his mouth and cheeks. Try as he might, he couldnt make the smile reach his eyes. Mother had done that to him. Made him into a freak that the others didnt understand.
The thought of actually going inside the club made him cringe, but he knew that the other he was looking for would be there. He took a deep breath, composed his face into something the others would find attractive, and exited his car. He had parked on the far edge of the lot, away from any other cars and underneath the streetlight he had broken the night before. Even though there would be a lot of others inside, the lot was still only half full. He knew her schedule, though, and she always came to the club on Friday nights, and she always left with one of the others. This night, however, she would leave with him.
Entering the club, the first thing he noticed was the noise. He liked certain kinds of noise, but not this kind–the deep pounding of the music, the imbecilic chatter of the others, the discordant laughter that burst out at various times. He didnt like the noise, but he showed the others the face they expected and forced himself to walk to the bar. It was not the first time he had had to do it. He leaned against the bar and gave the other behind it his best smile. She returned it with a fluttering of her eyelids, and he knew he was doing it right.
What can I get you? she asked, her gaze raking over his body from his Versace button-down to his Saint Laurent skinny leather trousers to his Testoni shoes–all in black, of course. Only the others wore those gaudy colors.
Gin and tonic, please, he said casually, barely glancing at her again as he turned his back to the bar and rested his arms on the top of it. Let her look. He wasnt interested in her.
Right away, she said, and within moments the drink was at his elbow.
Thank you, he said, pleased that Mothers etiquette lessons were indeed working. Tell me, have you seen someone in here tonight? She has long black hair that she usually wears up, shes about your height, and she usually has two others with her.
The bartenders eyes narrowed. Why are you asking?
He smiled at her disarmingly, and she relaxed. I noticed her the last few Fridays, and I was just hoping to get a chance to talk to her tonight.
Well, she simpered, it sounds like it could be Liz. Shes a regular on Fridays, but I havent seen her yet tonight.
Ill just wait here, then, if thats all right with you. Maybe Ill catch her when she comes in.
Thatll be just fine, uh…I didnt catch your name.
Thats because I didnt give it, you moron! He tamped down what he wanted to say and instead, he held out his hand like Mother had taught him. Drake. It wasnt his real name, of course, but it was close enough. Drake meant Dragon, and that was close. No other got to know his real name. When she took his hand, he suppressed the urge to snatch it back and wipe it off with the black handkerchief in his pocket.
Im Samantha, she said, holding onto his hand much longer than necessary. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he waited for her to release him. When she did, she looked at the door and smiled. Oh, look. Theres Liz now.
His head swiveled toward the door, and he saw her. His heart rate sped up, and, had it been light enough for anyone to see, they would have noticed his pupils dilate so that his eyes looked almost as black as his clothing. As expected, she was in the company of two others, garish women who didnt interest him in the least. The three were laughing with each other, and then she looked up, caught his gaze, and smiled. He knew it! He knew she was the one! He smiled back as she studied him, completely ignoring her companions. One of them said something to her, and she answered, but her eyes never left him. He took a sip of his drink and stared at her with a feral look. Her smile dimmed, but she still brushed off the others and walked toward him. He didnt move until she stopped in front of him, and then the only thing that moved was his head as he took in her blood red strapless dress that barely covered her breasts and came to just below her ass cheeks. He knew from previous visits that if she bent over, she would display everything she had to offer, usually clad in the skimpiest of black panties. Tonight, she would be offering it to him. And he would take it and more.
Hi, there, she said, her voice smooth and deep. It went straight to his groin, but he just stared at her. My name is Liz. Whats yours?
Ahriman. She would learn that name soon enough, but it was not to be said outside of the house. Out loud, he said, Drake. Can I buy you a drink?
Sure, she said, leaning her elbows on the bar. Sam, Vodka straight up.
He turned toward her and sipped his gin. Ive been watching you, he said softly.
She glanced at him with another smile. You and every other guy in this place, she said lightly. She ran her hands down her sides and her hips. I dont dress like this accidentally, you know. I like guys to look… She shrugged as Samantha gave her the drink. …and maybe touch.
Maybe? he asked. How about definitely? He reached a hand out and trailed a finger over one bare shoulder. He wasnt smiling anymore, and when he caught her eyes with his, she inhaled sharply.
She picked up her drink and downed it in one gulp. Definitely, she breathed. Now?
He restrained his excitement at how easy this was and said, So soon? But you just got here. What about the others you came with?
Who gives a fuck about them? Lets go.
He set his drink down without finishing it, paid Samantha, and held out his arm to Liz. She giggled and took it, and he led her outside. His cock was pulsing it was so hard, but he ignored it. Mother would be displeased if he didnt show this other all the courtesies she had taught him. He looked around the parking lot and was pleased to see that there was no one around. They walked to his car, and she gasped when she saw it.
Damn! This is yours?
It is, he said, opening the door for her.
She slid into the leather seat with a squeal of delight, and he smiled as he walked around to his door. This was not the smile the others got to see, however. This was the smile reserved for himself, for when he had done something he was especially proud of. He got in behind the wheel and started the engine. It gave a pleasing roar and then settled down into a pulsating rumble.
Where to? he asked, although he already knew where they would end up.
She huffed in exasperation. I have a stuck-up, Puritanical roommate. Can we go to your place?
Absolutely, he said, his grin growing bigger and more fierce in the darkness. Its a little way from here. Is that all right?
Sure, as long as you can bring be back here later.
That wont be a problem, he said, and he floored it, sending gravel spraying up behind him as he pulled out onto the road that led to his house.
Holy shit! Nice car! She grabbed onto the door as the speedometer inched up past ninety, past one hundred. You sure youre not going to crash it, right? She had just a touch of fear in her voice now, and it made him even harder.
Im sure. Just relax and enjoy the ride.
Twelve minutes later, having reached one twenty for most of the drive, he hit the brakes and fishtailed the car into his drive.
Fuck! she said as she tried to stay upright.
His grin felt like his face was splitting, but if Liz had been noticing anything other than the fact that this sexy man really knew how to drive, the slight fear that was pulsing through her veins would have become a torrent of terror, for the grin was nothing but pure evil now. The distance from the main road to the house was three miles, all of it surrounded by forest. As they finally exited the trees, Liz gave another gasp when the house came into view, only glancing at him briefly.
The house was three stories of Southern Plantation mansion. White columns ringed the front door, and the red brick of the walls was accented with white shutters and window sills. Lights shone from one window on the third floor and one on the first. From the little she could see in the darkness, Liz guessed it was at least ten thousand square feet. He pulled up in front of the door and said, Stay, please. He waited for her nod before getting out and walking around the car to let her out. She took his hand, her eyes still on the house. When he shut the car door, he pushed her up against it, calmed the glee that filled him at having her at his home, and placed his hands on either side of her, looming over her in the darkness. I need to know, he said softly, exactly what you are expecting out of this night. His voice was tight with desire and need.
She shivered and looked up into his dark eyes. She swallowed thickly and whispered, I want you to fuck me.
He grinned. Right here? On my car?
Yes, please. She tried to raise her hand to touch his face, but he stepped back with a grace befitting a panther.
No. He held out his hand, and she took it with a pout. Without another word, he led her inside his house, pausing briefly to reset the security system. Then he took her to the kitchen. Another drink?
Sure, she said, looking around. Vodka straight up.
Kauffman okay with you?
I dont know. Ive never tried it.
Well, he said, as he poured the smooth, clear liquid into a glass and handing it to her, this is true Russian vodka. The best in the world.
Thank you, she said, taking a sip. Wow, this is amazing!
I know. He watched her as she drank for a moment, and then he took her hand again. Come, let me give you the tour. Finish your drink first, please. I dont like food and drink outside of the kitchen or dining room.
Sure thing, she said, downing the vodka and setting the glass on the counter. Big place youve got here, she said as he led her to the basement and stopped in front of a steel door. Do you live here alone?
Yes. My great-great-grandfather built it after striking it rich in the Gold Rush of 1849. Now Im the last of my family to own it.
The last?
Yes. I am an only child, and I have no children myself. Something I hope you can help me with.
What? She yanked her hand away and spun to face him, but she lost her balance. Just before she went down, he grabbed her and turned her around so she faced the door. She struggled briefly and then went limp.
Behind this door, he said softly, is my masterpiece. It is where you will be staying for the foreseeable future. She tried to fight him, but the Devils Breath was starting to kick in, and her brain wouldnt work like it should. He keyed in the code to unlock the door and heard the hiss as the hydraulic locks released. The door swung slowly open, and he dragged her inside. He dropped her to the floor where she landed with a thud. Stay there, he growled. Keying in a different code, the door closed, and he waited until he heard the locks reengage before turning back to her. She was in a pile on the floor, looking like a messy lump of trash, and he felt the rage inside him build. He was safe now, though, and he let it free. Drake was gone, and Ahriman was home.
He grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to the bench. She was a little thing, probably no more than a hundred pounds, and he had no problem taking her where he wanted her to go. He said, Turn around and lie down on your back.
Okay, she mumbled and did as he said, the drug sapping her of her conscious will. He stretched her arms above her head and tied a rope around her wrists before securing it to the bench. Then he ran his hands down her sides to her hips.
Do you remember when you said you wanted me to fuck you?
Yeah.
He slapped her hard across the face, and she grunted. You will refer to me as Ahriman, and you will answer every question or command with Yes, Ahriman or No, Ahriman. Do you understand?
Yes, Ahriman. Her words were slightly slurred, but the drug was working just as the other said it would. Too bad it dulled pain, though that wouldnt be the case in the morning when it wore off.
He took her high heels off, unzipped her dress, and pulled it off. Just as he had expected, the only thing she had on underneath was a lacy black thong. He stripped it from her and tied a rope to each ankle. He attached them to the bench so that her ass was at the end of it and her knees were bent. Then he attached a spreader bar to her thighs just above her knees to keep her legs from closing. Now, do you still want me to fuck you?
Yes, Ahriman.
He leaned close. Beg for it.
Please, Ahriman, please fuck me.
Beg for me to hurt you.
Please, please hurt me, Ahriman.
Ahriman sucked in a breath through his teeth and turned to the old woman behind him. See, Mother, I told you I could find an other who would make a good breeder. Listen to how she begs me for what I really want. The old woman didnt answer, and he didnt expect her to. She hadnt spoken to him in a long time. He stripped his clothes off, carefully folding them and placing them on a nearby table. His cock was throbbing at that point, and though her screams would have made this moment perfect, he would take what he could get. He lined up his eight-inch cock and slammed it into her dry pussy, but she only grunted again and tossed her head weakly. He continued pounding into her until he felt his orgasm approaching, and he thrust into her one last time and held himself deep while he shot stream after stream of cum into her cunt, forcing himself to wait a full minute before pulling out. He carefully cleaned himself off with a towel and took a short whip off the wall.
How many do you think, Mother? He looked at the old woman, but she gave no indication that she heard him, even though he knew she did. She was just mad at him for bringing her down here, and, truth be told, he was glad she wasnt speaking to him. That way he didnt have to hear her criticize him or humiliate him or threaten him. I think fifty to start. I definitely want to hear her scream tomorrow, and this will be a start. When the drug wears off, I want her to feel every lash. He walked over to the old woman and kissed her dry cheek. I brought you here because I know how much you like screams, dearest Mother. Again, she didnt answer him, but that didnt bother him.
He unstrapped Liz and told her to stand. She did, her eyes glassy and uncomprehending. He pointed to a chain hanging from the ceiling. Go and stand under that.
She nodded, and before she could take a step, he grabbed her chin and dug his fingers into her cheeks as he glared at her. Every single time you are given an order you will answer correctly, bitch!
Yes, Ahriman, she said dully.
Better, he snarled, shoving her toward the chain. She slowly walked toward it and stood underneath, not moving a muscle. He took her arms and pulled them above her head, wrapping the rope around and over a hook at the end of the chain. Then he tied the ropes on her ankles to large eye bolts in the floor. He walked behind her and trailed the whip down her back. Beg me to whip you, he sneered. Beg me to make you bleed.
Please, Ahriman, please whip me. Please make me bleed. Her voice was monotonous, and it made him furious.
He raised the whip and brought it down on her back with all his strength. Even with the deadening effects of the drug, she let out a small scream as small beads of blood welled up along the red stripe.
Beg me like you mean it! he roared, bringing the whip down again and again drawing blood.
Whip me, Ahriman, she screamed. Please, make me bleed, Ahriman!
The words and her screams caused him to harden again, and he laid the whip across her back again and again and again. The drug wasnt enough to keep away the pain anymore, and her screams grew in volume and duration until she could barely take a breath between them. After twenty or so lashes–he lost count–each one drawing more blood from her body, he was so close to cumming that he held the whip in one hand while he stroked himself rapidly with the other. He shifted to be sure Mother could see what he was doing as he roared out his ecstasy. Stream after stream of white spunk hit the welts and cuts, mingling with the blood and dripping, tinged pink, down her back and legs.
Twice more the process repeated itself. The sounds of the leather contacting flesh, her screams, and the knowledge that Mother was watching and could do nothing brought him to climax. Each time, he shot his load onto her back, watching with intense pleasure as the pool of blood and cum grew around the drain on the floor between her legs. Finally, after many, many more than fifty lashes that had landed on her back, her ass, and her legs, he walked to the sink in the corner and carefully washed himself and the whip, sterilizing the leather so that the next time he used it, it would not transfer any germs to her. After all, if she died, he couldnt breed her. He carefully hung the whip back up on the wall.
He moved back to her, and held his hands up, framing her like a salesperson on television. What do you think, Mother? Did you enjoy that as much as I did? His voice started soft, but as he continued, it grew louder and harsher. Did you like hearing her screams as much as you liked hearing mine? He turned his naked back to her. Do you think her scars will look like mine, Mother!? What do you think!? Again, there was no answer, and his fury grew. He couldnt hurt Mother, but he could hurt the cunt hanging from his ceiling.
He stalked to the sink and grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol off the shelf above It. Walking back in front of the bitch, he was upset to see her eyes closed. He had been so caught up in the whipping that he hadnt realized she had passed out. He felt for her pulse on her neck, and it was strong, so he slapped her face hard. She didnt move. He slapped her again, splitting her lip. Again, she didnt move. He screamed his rage at the silent, empty air around him and twisted the top off the bottle. Her shoulders were even with his, so he didnt have to reach far to upend the bottle so that the pungent liquid flowed down her back. If shed been awake, her shrieks would probably have brought him to climax again, but she remained unconscious. Oh, well. At least the cuts wouldnt get infected. He used the entire bottle, washing most of the blood and cum onto the floor. More oozed out of the wounds after the bottle was empty, however, and he left that blood there. Tomorrow, hed wash it off, after it had dried. He threw the bottle and the cap in the trash can next to the sink and hooked up a hose to the faucet. He turned on the water and aimed the nozzle at the mess on the floor. For the next five minutes, he washed everything down the drain. When there was nothing left, he shut off the water, dried the drops of water that had hit his legs, and dressed himself, making sure everything was perfect.
He released the ropes from the eye bolts on the floor just long enough to turn Liz around, and then he tied her down again. He wanted Mother to be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes the next morning, and he wanted Mother to see what he had accomplished. He kissed the wrinkled cheek once more, adjusted her blanket, and stood straight and tall. Good night, Mother. I hope you have a pleasant night. Then he left the room and walked up three flights of stairs to his bedroom. He grabbed a remote and pressed a button. A wall of televisions lit up, and as he pressed more buttons, images came to life. From there, he could watch everything that went on in the basement. At that moment, though, Mother wasnt moving, and neither was the cunt hanging from his ceiling. He set the remote on his nightstand and went to take a shower.
Once he was standing under the hot spray, he closed his eyes and ran the past few hours through his mind. He would watch the video later, probably tomorrow, but for now, the memories were enough, and his hand strayed to his cock, stroking it slowly until it was hard, and then he sped up his strokes. Part of the excitement was knowing what Mother would do if she found out what he was doing. She would never find out, though, and she would never punish him for masturbating ever again. Hed made sure of that. The images of the basement morphed into images of what he had done to Mother, and he groaned loudly as he came yet again. He watched his seed wash down the drain and then carefully cleaned himself. When he was done, he went back to his bedroom and got ready for bed.
He turned off all of the televisions except the one attached to the camera focused on the breeder. He wanted her screams to be his wake-up call, so he made sure the volume was turned up enough. Then he settled himself into his blankets and stared at the image of the other until he fell asleep.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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