Gun Culture Chapter 1
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The girl smiled at me again. Could this really be happening, it was like a dream come true. Taking my hand she said "Hold me tight in your strong arms" pressing her body tight against me, I enjoyed the feel of her pert breasts against my chest through our thin t-shirt's.
I was slightly drunk, the music washed over me as she whispered "Shall we find somewhere quiet?"
I nodded, smiling, as she looked up into my eyes.
"I just need the toilet, see you again in a moment my darling" she said before she disappeared.
Forever. Along with my wallet containing over a hundred pounds and several credit cards.
"Bitch" I hissed between my teeth several times as I hung around in the club hoping she might rerurn; perhaps someone else had stolen my wallet and she was still in the toilet - feeling unwell perhaps?
"Bitch!" I shouted into the cold night air as the doorman threw me out. To get home I faced an hour or two's walk across the city, then across the suspension bridge to the town on the other side of the river.
Last time I had found myself stranded after a night out I had phoned my wife to fetch me; that was perhaps one of the reasons she had left me.
Bitch!
I would phone her and wake her up just to annoy her anyway; I smiled for a couple of seconds until I realised my phone had been stolen too!
Fucking bitch!
Then I saw her. Walking slightly unsteadily away from me along the other side of the road. I ran after her, nearly getting hit by a speeding taxi as I crossed the road.
I grabbed her by her left shoulder, spun her round towards me and hit her. First in the face so she fell back against the wall. Then harder in the stomach so she doubled up and started sinking to the ground.
"Fucking thieving bitch!" I screamed at her. I thrust my hands into the pockets of her tight jeans feeling for my wallet or phone.
She looked up at me, blood trickling from her nose over her top lip where she licked at it with her tongue. Her eyes stared up into mine, uncomprehending. They weren't the eyes of the girl in the nightclub.
Oh shit! What had I done? I felt sick. I was sick; all down the front of my shirt as I sank to the ground. Everything was spinning, I retched again but now my stomach was empty. Then I passed out completely.
I had no idea where I was when I woke up the following morning. It was only just still morning. I was lying on a worn sagging sofa in an untidy room I was sure I had never been in before. I sat up. My head hurt and my mouth was painfully dry. I thought about standing up, but suddenly realised I seemed to have lost my shirt.
Then the girl walked in and stood staring at me. "So how are you going to explain this to the police then?" she asked.
"You've called the police?" I wished my head was clearer, she was wearing just panties and a white t-shirt and I couldn't help staring at her long legs.
She laughed. "Of course not." She took a step closer to me, only then did I notice her black eye, "I wouldn't be able to kill you then."
Was she serious? "I'm so sorry." I knew I sounded pathetic. "I thought you were someone else ..." Now that sounded really lame.
"The girl who stole your money I suppose?" she sneered.
"How do you know?"
"I don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to work that out. I checked your pockets and they were empty,, and you were certainly mad at me, until the moment you looked me in the face."
She was Sherlock Holmes. I owed her and, worryingly, she must want something from me if she'd taken me home with her.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked.
"What?" Why wouldn't my head clear. I hate hangovers. "Sleeping on your sofa? Thank you, it was very.... " I struggled to find the word I was looking for.
"No. Hitting me. Did you enjoy hitting me?"
Shocked I replied "Of course not. I was just angry and thought you were somebody else."
"So would you have enjoyed hurting her then?"
I didn't answer. I tried not to think that in the few seconds before I realised my mistake I had felt a deep satisfaction in her obvious pain.
"Would you like to kill her?" she asked as she searched about in a drawer.
Why all these questions? I wanted to go home - and yet she fascinated me. She had produced a bright orange plastic toy pistol.
She handed me the pistol. "Shoot me!"
"What?" I laughed.
"Pretend I'm the girl who's stolen your money."
I pointed the gun in her direction and pressed the trigger. It just made a little plastic click.
She rolled her eyes in despair "That's no fucking good!" she complained. "You've got to aim it properly and hold it firmly, with both hands if necessary, against the recoil."
I nodded obediently, though I'd prefer to have been screwing her than playing silly games.
"And it needs to do more than just click when you shoot it. " She paused. "I know it sounds corny, but shout BANG when you fire." She took a couple of steps back.
I nearly laughed, but decided to humour her; she did look quite sexy stood there with those long slender legs slightly apart, showing a glimpse of her flat tummy between her shirt and her panties. I carefully aimed the silly plastic gun at her bare midriff.
"BANG!" I shouted self consciously.
The result took me by surprise. She flew back against the small table behind her, arms outstretched, overturning it. Then as the magazines and dirty crockery tumbled to the floor she doubled up in agony clutching her belly gasping for breath.
I dropped the gun in horror. This was impossible! It was only a silly plastic kids' toy.
She rolled onto her back, eyes wide open as she struggled to breathe, her spread legs weakly kicking. Then arching her back she thrust her pelvis up towards me, her t-shirt riding up to bare her whole belly, before collapsing sprawled on the floor.
I was speechless. She looked dead, yet all I had done was shout bang! I walked over to her and knelt over her limp body. I nervously felt the bare skin of her flat tummy. Then I placed my hand on her ribs just below her left breast; she didn't seem to be breathing.
I felt a sense of panic. Of course she wasn't dead. She was just playing. I slapped her face but got no reaction. My cock stiffened, I felt ashamed at such a reaction to a woman's pain and apparent death. I reached down and touched the inside of her thigh.
Her eyes opened wide and she sat up suddenly. "Good, wasn't I?"
I could only nod in agreement.
As she picked up the cutlery and broken china from the floor she asked "Would you like to shoot the bitch who robbed you with a real gun?"
I don't know why I hesitated for so long before replying "Of course not."
"Would you like to shoot ME with a real gun?"
"No!" I replied emphatically.
She picked up the toy gun from the floor. "Pathetic, isn't it?" she said. "I need to get a more realistic gun for next time. One which makes a decent bang when it's fired. But I suppose this will have to do for now."
I shot her at least a dozen more times, but she wouldn't let me get into her knickers. She did have a go at shooting me several times too, but I just didn't have her style.
Eventually she said she'd drive me home. "So I know where to find you" she said. I suggested we stop for a drink, or something to eat, on the way but she rounded on me "I think you had quite enough to drink last night."
But as I watched her pulling on a pair of jeans someone came in through the door of her flat. A heavily built woman with untidy cropped brown hair stared at us. "Who the fuck is that!" she spat, glaring at me.
"No one" the girl replied quietly.
"No one? If he's no one why are you putting your clothes back on in front of him?" she grabbed the girl's hand pulling her closer.
The girl looked around nervously, but not at me. "I, after I left you last night, I was attacked and this man rescued me... " She was making this up as she went along "He just called round, just now, to see if was OK now." The woman pulled the girl tight against her and with her right hand turned the girl's face towards her. "I, when he came to the door I thought it was you... " I didn't think she was a good liar, but she did try her best "When it wasn't you I had to put my jeans on. But then you came."
The woman kissed the girl, full on, but possessively, without affection. "Get out!" she snarled at me. I did.
I hadn't even learnt the girls name. Though I did know where she lived. But her 'friend' scared me. Not in the sense that I was afraid of her, but it was the thought of how she treated the girl, what she might do with her. I tried to blank her from my mind, not to think what they might do together.
But I did go back, though it was about three weeks later. As I knocked at the door I was shaking, praying the big woman wasn't there with her. No one was there. I went to a pub and had a few drinks, alone, before returning home. Two days later I tried again. She was in!
"I knew you'd come back!" she said excitedly. I leaned forward to kiss her, but she pulled away. "I've got something to show you!" and she led me to the bedroom.
Reaching under the bed she pulled out a long slightly rusty gun with old cracked and grey woodwork. I laughed.
"Don't you like it?" she asked, clearly disappointed by my reaction. It's a musket, probably hundreds of years old." She handed it to me. "Perhaps from the Civil War. Just think, it might have killed many people centuries ago."
I lifted it to my shoulder, it was certainly unwieldy indoors.
I fitted a piece of flint and managed to buy some black powder on the internet, from China. If you put the powder in the pan there, lock it, pull back the bit with the flint then pull the trigger it makes a hell of a bang, and a flash and a lot of smoke." She grinned at me.
"Won't it upset your neighbours a bit?"
"Let's take it up on the moor then and play with it there." her excitement was almost infectious.
She went to her bedroom and came out wearing a faded loose fitting floral dress with short puffy sleeves which looked a couple of sizes too big for her. "I didn't think jeans and a t-shirt went with that gun" she explained "so I got this from a charity shop." I wished I was wearing something more appropriate; perhaps a cavalier's hat with a big feather too!
As we walked to her car I asked "Where the hell did you find that?"
"Oh I nicked it off a pub wall" she replied airily.
I shook my head. I didn't understand this girl, yet she fascinated me. As long as I blanked out all thoughts of her girlfriend.
I did try asking her name as we headed from the city up onto the moor, she said "Just call me Bonnie.?
"As in Bonnie and Clyde I suppose?"
"You've got it."
"Yeah. She gets shot at the end."
She looked at me and smiled.
It was overcast, it was late autumn so there were few tourists around. She parked in a small stone lined parking area alongside the road then we headed uphill, past heather and bracken, towards a low sprawling tor, huge lumps of granite, scattered on the rounded hill top as if by some grumpy giant millennia ago.
She fiddled around with the flintlock mechanism, putting some gunpowder in the tiny pan, locked it on place, then handed me the gun. She ran from me, round behind the nearest rocks, I followed carefully carrying the unwieldy ancient gun.
She started climbing a sloping rock but, getting to the top, about ten foot up, could get no further. She turned to face me, the wind blowing her hair aside and lifting the hem of her dress above her knees. Her face had the desperate hunted look of a cornered wild animal. I raised the gun, aimed at her chest and fired. There was a loud bang and a white flash of heat almost blinded me. A cloud of grey smoke rose above me as I blinked. She had fallen to her knees clutching her chest, she turned away on her hands and knees, tried to stand but her legs gave way and she slid off the back edge of the rock.
Was there a sheer drop the far side? I put down the musket and ran round to her. She had fallen onto another rounded boulder only about four feet below, but it was still hard granite. She seemed to have landed on her back but then slid sideways down into the gap between the two rocks where her torso appeared wedged though her right leg was twisted back and up, her thigh tearing the thin cotton dress.
I stared at the top of her bare thigh. She must surely be either in pain or unconscious? Yet I felt sexually excited by her position. I looked more carefully, she didn't seem to be wearing any panties.
She wasn't moving and she couldn't stay like that. I positioned myself above her and taking her right wrist in one hand and right ankle in the other tried dragging her up out from the gap. Her chest was actually quite tightly wedged in the gap between the two pieces of ancient weathered granite, squashing her left breast. I pulled harder, her dress tore as I dragged her pale, grazed left breast free. Her eyes remained unfocused but she couldn't help blinking and I could tell she was breathing gently as I lay her spread-eagled on her back.
I knew how to test her. I grasped the torn hem of her dress and pulled it up above her waist. She wasn't wearing knickers, but she quickly sat up shouting "STOP!" I smiled. "Later." she said, adding "I promise."
She re-charged the gun for me then handed it back to me. I looked at her, she must be cold I thought. She wasn't wearing anything under the thin cotton dress which was now torn down almost to her waist on the left side, exposing cuts and scratches on her prominent ribs as well as her breast, while another tear exposed the whole length of her right leg.
She'd already lost one shoe so now kicked off the other before turning and running downhill. I ran after her, but she was fast. I hoped no-one would see us, see me chasing a half naked young woman, holding an ancient gun almost as tall as her!
She really didn't seem to want me to catch her. When she came to a small stream she turned and started to follow its course back up hill. While she splashed through the water and peaty mud in the bottom of the gully I pursued her along the firm ground above.
She stumbled, slipped and fell several times and I soon caught her up. Seeing me close behind she tried climbing up the heather bank the far side of the stream. Just as she reached the top and looked back I fired.
Her head flew back with a strangled cry and she fell, slid and rolled the eight foot or so back into the stream, her dress catching and further tearing on the gorse and heather. She lay face down in the fast running shallow water. I wondered how long she could hold her breath for if I didn't move her.
I smiled to myself as I stood over her, it must be nearly two minutes now. She was good! But I didn't want to spoil the game, so I grabbed both her ankles and dragged her downstream for a couple of feet then up out of the stream. The sodden dress which was already clinging revealingly to her body rode up above her waist baring her pale firm buttocks.
I couldn't help myself; I rolled her onto her back, the torn remnants of the wet dress fell aside. I knelt and gently moved her thighs apart.
"Stop that!" She put her knees tight together and rolled aside.
"I thought you said ..."
"Next time" she interrupted me "I promise."
I let her get to her feet then handed her the gun and the bag of powder, joking "I hope that isn't your best dress."
"You've got it wet" she complained.
Looking at the shreds of fabric trailing onto the ground while the remnants of its right sleeve slide down her slender arm I said "I think getting wet is the least of its problems!"
She looked at me strangely "You've got the gunpowder wet, I'll have to go back to the car to re-load. You stay here, or go back up to the tor; if anyone sees you with me in this state they'll think you've attacked me, no matter what I say."
She was at the car for a couple of minutes, there she removed the ragged remnants of the dress and walked back up the hill carrying the musket stark naked. A car passing on the road only a few hundred yards away slowed and I thought it was going to stop, but after crawling at a snails pace for a little while it carried on.
She handed me the gun then walked up to the first of granite monoliths. In front of it she turned to face me, spreading her arms. My cock strained for release and I so wanted to just run up and embrace that enticing body. I was none too warm myself so she must have been frozen. But but I knew she wanted one more game first.
I looked down the long muzzle at her beautiful, pale, slim body which I now so desperately wanted to penetrate. Could she see the bulge in my trousers? I found myself wondering if it scared her. I squeezed the rusty trigger.
The bang was absolutely deafening and the gun kicked back into my shoulder shattering the split, brittle, stock. My shoulder was bleeding and I stared at the broken, smoking, gun on the ground. That hadn't happened before! Then I looked at the girl.
She had collapsed to her knees and was clutching the middle of her belly. I stared as blood started trickling below and from between her fingers. As I ran up to her she fell sideways, her eyes unnaturally wide and fearful. I knelt alongside her and gently held her head. Her hands fell to her side exposing the small deep wound from which her lifeblood was pumping out,; she drew up her legs, gasping for breath, then her knees fell aside exposing her cunt. Her pelvis thrust weakly upwards and she coughed some watery blood from her mouth so she could speak. "You can fuck me now ..."
Julianne
- 16.03.2021
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