Pretty Pain

Well you folks seemed to enjoy my first submission. I hope youll like this one too. Its a bit different but as long as your open minded Im sure it will tickle your fancy and maybe a few other things. Please review! It makes this whole stressful writing process worth it. Now for the obligatory warning : this story contains scenes which may prove uncomfortable for some of you. If things like mild torture, or f/f make you queasy read something else. Thanks again all, enjoy!



PRETTY PAIN

Angela was certain shed locked the front door before leaving for work. She can picture holding the key in her hand and turning the lock. Still shed been in a hurry, afraid of being of late, perhaps she had forgotten? She decided to stop fretting about it and just be a little more vigilant next time. It wasn’t like she lived in the ghetto or anything. Her neighborhood had a long standing reputation of being peaceful. She stepped into the living room, dropped her purse to the floor, and drew a deep breath, glad to be home. She was instantly struck by an unfamiliar scent in the air. It was like a perfume as if shed recently had a visitor. Unnerved she instantly thought of the unlocked front door.
Though she tried not to be she was now thoroughly frightened. She had the sudden feeling that she was not alone in the house. She hoped that it might just have been a burglar and that whoever it was that had been in her home was not still here. However the room was as shed left it, nothing was out of place. She relaxed but became immediately rigid when she saw that the kitchen door was firmly shut. The kitchen door was always open. Whoever had entered her home was now shut up in her kitchen with all those sharp blades, hiding, and waiting. "RUN", she thought to herself. She darted to the bedroom and closed the door sharply behind her. She grabbed for the phone beside her bed and dialed 911 with trembling fingers. What happened next should have come as no surprise to anyone whose seen a slasher flick. Somehow the phone had been disconnected. The dial tone and her racing pulse held a battle for dominance inside her head. She let the phone drop to the floor. In a last desperate hope to escape she thought of her purse. She had a small pocket knife in there! Her heart sank as she remembered that it lay on the living room floor.

She made up her mind in an instant and before she could rationalize she was kneeling beside her purse, rifling through it with desperate fingers. "Where the hell is it?" she groaned despairingly. "Looking for this?" asked a soft voice from behind her. She spun around in shock and beheld a pale faced, blue eyed girl, with soft looking black hair falling well past her shoulders. She was young, perhaps in her early twenties compared to Angela who was well into her thirties. In her slender fingers she was twirling the pocket knife innocently as if there were an obvious explanation to her presence in Angela’s living room. Angela wondered if she were perhaps some crazy homeless person, she looked harmless enough minus the glinting blade.
She decided to try to reason with the girl. "Please, miss, what are you doing in my house? Is it money you want? Here take my purse and go just please put that knife down!" The intruder let out a girlish laugh. Her icy eyes moved from the knife to Angela’s purse and back again as she seemed to consider the offer. After a few moments she rose and walked purposefully toward Angela, the knife concealed behind her back. Using her free hand she reached for Angela’s cheek and smiled tenderly. "I wouldn’t pass this up for all the money in the world." she said sweetly. Angela was terrified and scampered on hands and knees towards the front door. However this girl was fast and before Angela could reach the doorway she was pinned to the floor by the girls boot heel. Silent tears began to fall as Angela realized the futility of her position.

"Don’t be silly Angie, you can’t leave now. We haven’t gotten properly acquainted yet." At this point Angela was prepared to do whatever this girl said to spare her life. When the boot heel was lifted from her back she turned over slowly and looked up into the girls blue eyes. "What do you want from me?" she asked bravely. The girl pouted her lips in a little frown as she pretended to think. "I want us to be close Angie, really close. I’ve wanted to befriend you for so long but you never noticed me. I always used to see you at work all dolled up in your expensive suits with everyone falling over themselves to get you things. Did you get the flowers I sent?" This sent a cold chill up Angela’s spine as she made the connection. For the past few weeks she had received anonymous bouquets. A new flower every day. She had assumed it to be her husband who was away on business. He was thoughtful like that, but now she saw it had not been him at all.
She gulped in shock, suppressing the urge to vomit. How could she have been so careless? "Aw Angie just look at you!" the soft voice intruding on her thoughts. "Your beautiful hair is tangled and your make up is running! We can’t have you looking like this. Let’s get you cleaned up." She bent down and took Angela’s trembling arm and led her in the direction of the bathroom. Angela, still aware of the knife clutched in the girls other hand did not protest. "My names Olivia by the way." murmured the girl as she delicately removed the barrette from Angela’s hair. The name was not familiar. Maybe they’d never actually met. The girl was obviously crazy shed probably made the whole thing up in her twisted little mind. Her thoughts were once again dispersed by the sound of the faucet running.

"How about a nice bath Angie baby? That would be so nice wouldn’t it?" Here Olivia sighed blissfully. "You can’t know how often I’ve imagined us like this. Intertwined beneath the warm water, shrouded in a fluffy film of bubbles" Using her hand she flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and nuzzled her face into Angela’s throat. She placed soft kisses around the older woman’s collar bone. Angela let out a gasp of fright. Olivia drew back, seemingly upset. "You know," she continued sadly, "When you never acknowledged me it made me quite unhappy." She pushed back the sleeves of her gray hoodie to reveal long twisted scars twining up her delicate arms.” I made these for you, to prove my love. Oh Angie say you love me as much as I love you!" Angela was in shock. She could only stare, eyes wide, mouth gaping, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "I..I love..y..you t-too." she whispered.
It didn’t fool her for an instant but Olivia seemed to buy it. Angela moved her hand toward Olivia’s in a last attempt to escape. She enclosed her hand gently over Olivia’s, the hand holding the knife, and squeezed affectionately. Olivia’s hand loosed up as Angela moved in and placed a single kiss on her lips. Angela seized the moment and grabbed for the knife. Yet she was too slow and Olivia had soon relinquished her hold on the weapon. Her eyes were ablaze with rage and her mouth was twisted into a murderous scowl. "Stupid bitch!" she screamed as her low voice ratcheted up into a soprano range. "Why couldn’t you just go with it? Haven’t I don’t enough for you? Don’t I deserve any respect at all? Why couldn’t you just love me? But no you had to try to trick me. To use my feelings for you to gain an advantage. I was hoping you’d be different in person then you acted on the phone, but your not, your worse!"

Once again a chilling memory was aroused in Angela’s mind. A string of anonymous phone calls where no one answered though breathing could be heard on the other end. "I deserve to die for being so blind", Angela thought to herself. Olivia raised the knife and used to it to slash at Angela’s clothes which soon fell away in ragged shreds. "Now that’s better isn’t it?" asked Olivia with tears still rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes took on a far away look as she studied Angela’s body intently. Angela feeling immensely uncomfortable drew the shreds of clothing around her protectively. "No stupid don’t cover up!" Olivia shouted as she wrenched the shreds from Angela’s hands. "You have a beautiful body. I always knew you’d be beautiful but god, you’re perfect."
Angela couldn’t help the feeling that Olivia was looking right through her, into the steaming mass of her organs, and liking what she saw. "Ok sweetie since you seem sorry enough I’m going to give you one last chance to please me, and you had better! I’ve wasted too many months of my life mourning over you, and now that I finally have you I intend to keep you." The look that registered in the icy blue of Olivia’s eyes was terrifying. It was not the look of the mad; in fact it was the determination and apparent sincerity that frightened Angela most. Olivia was suddenly on her knees in front of Angela her hands clasped beseechingly. "I love you. I am you." she whispered as a few solitary tears leaked down her cheeks.

When she stood again she took Angela gently under the arms and led her towards the tub. "Hop into the tub now. Here Ill help you." The soft grip soon became vice-like as Olivia pushed Angela as hard as she could over the edge of the tub. Angela gave a little yelp of surprise. "Ooops," Olivia said, giggling again,” It’s a little hot." "Please" Angela tried weakly, "Olivia I think you should know that my husband George is going to be home soon and if he sees me like this the authorities will be hearing about it!" This wasn’t a total lie, George was due back at 2 o'clock the next day, but Angela was starting to wonder if she would last that long. "They’ll put you away and you’ll never see daylight again!" Her voice sounded steady and it obviously worried Olivia who was frowning nervously. "Why is everyone trying to keep us apart Angie? Just lie back now and relax. Ill take care of everything." Then, knife still clutched in her hand she left the bathroom.
Angela rose instantly and tried to follow only to hear the lock on the other side click into place. She collapsed into tears on the cold tile, naked, wet, and trembling. She banged on the door with her fists until her hands bled. When she was so cold she could barely hold still she crawled back into the tub. The water was no longer hot, merely tepid and just made her feel worse. How long had she been locked in the bathroom? Where was Olivia? Was she coming back? Part of her hoped not and yet another part of her was terrified of being left to spend the night alone in the bathroom until George came home and found her. Hours past with no sign of Olivia, her hands had stopped bleeding; the tub water no longer provided any warmth. She searched the bathroom cabinets for towels but found none. She brushed her hair until her arm ached for something to do. When darkness fell she found a bottle of sleeping tablets in the medicine cabinet. She was disappointed to find that there were only four left. She took them all anyway, swallowing mouthfuls of tap water from the sink to wash them down.

When she awoke again feeling faintly sick but otherwise ok she realized that her face was pressed against a downy pillow, not the hard tile of the bathroom. She was still naked. She tried to turn over onto her back but something was holding her in place. She couldn’t see but knew that her wrists and ankles were bound. She began to thrash and scream into the pillow and was surprised when she felt the other side of the bed shake and heard answering groans. Slowly she twisted her neck as much as she dared and saw that George was beside her. He was bound as well and the sides of his mouth were crusted with blood, his left eye was puffy and purple. He was frantic and it took him minutes to recognize her.
"George, honey it’s me! Angela, oh god please answer me! George tell me you called the police. Honey look at me. Everything’s going to be ok I just need to know. Tell me. Did you call anyone, anyone at all?" Before he could open his mouth to answer it was smothered by a delicate hand, the nails painted crimson, the color of fresh blood.
"He’s not going to be calling anyone anymore." Olivia snarled. She grabbed Georges face roughly, pinching his cheeks so that his lips puckered in an obscene parody of a kiss. "Why don’t you give your wife a little kiss?" she raged, "Slip her a little tongue while your at it. She always seemed to like that." This was said with a sharp glare towards Angela who was now fighting back tears. "Oh, what’s that you say George? You can’t? Why George, what’s happened to your tongue?!" She squealed in mock confusion. "Oh, that’s right. It’s gone! Well maybe that will teach you not to stick your tongue where it doesn’t belong huh Georgy?" She parted George’s lips with her sharp red nails to reveal the inside of his mouth, his once white teeth red with blood, his tongue now nothing but a stump. He tried to scream but it came out only as a muffled, strangled sound. Olivia laughed and knocked him from the bed.

Then she lay down in his place, moving closer to Angela as she slowly removed her clothes. Her breasts were round and creamy the nipples a delicate pink, her body lithe and well muscled. This came as a shock to Angela. This girl had a beautiful body. She had always assumed that people only turned to demented mind games when they were too ugly for anyone to consider loving them by choice. With this girl it must be something deeper, something rotten in her mind, probably always had been. She began to pray for her soul as she felt Olivia’s front teeth close slowly on her nipple. The sex wasn’t bad on the whole. Certainly better then it had been with George these last few months but she couldn’t relax. She couldn’t stop wondering what had become of the knife, when she was going to die, and how. The building suspense compiled with her oncoming orgasm was just too much for her to bear.
"Please just kill me!" She screamed. "I don’t care how you do it just do it quickly. I can’t take this anymore!" Then for no particular reason, "Oh George! I’m so sorry George! Why didn’t I just lock the goddamn front door!?" A waded up washcloth soaked in some foul tasting fluid put an end to her cries, a coil of rough fibered rope and a little elbow grease put an end to her life. George witnessed it all, lying helpless on the bedroom floor. The black haired girl strangled his wife until she was good and dead and then took her pleasure once more before leaving. She seemed to have forgotten him entirely. It wasn’t like he could go crying to the cops, shed made damn sure of that.