My jaw was throbbing. I never been hit that hard before. I was faced down on the bed. My body kept inching back and forward. I had trouble moving my arms because they were tied behind my back. The long hard sharp pain was ripping me open as he raped me. Rape! It was always about power. It was always about control. It was always about destruction. My dad destroyed me and I had to rebuilt. This asshole is not going to destroy me. I can't allow it.

He pulled my hair as his dick, his weapon, invaded my body. It hurt, bad. I never had sex there before. I held my breath and bit my tongue. I had to focus. I had to think. I had to survive. My legs were free. They hung over the side of the bed as my feet played with the rough carpet.

"Say my name," he demanded between grunts.

I turned my head to the side. "Fuck you!" I yelled.

"Such bad language," he commented, "for such a pretty girl." He grabbed a fist full of my hair and tightly pulled it. I felt his body tense and growled like a wolf as he came in me. He pulled out of me and shoved me off the bed as I hit the floor. "Stop bitching, Pitch," he added. "You will be paid well.

"Keep your money, Dick." The last word spat out of my mouth. I propped myself up against the bed. "You think you're hot shit smacking me around. Trying to put me under your control." I smiled. "Untie me. Let's see what type of control you really have. "

"Are you serious?" He looked at me. "I'm twice your size, girl."

I worked my hands and wrists trying to loosen the leather restraints. He must have used his belt to tie me up. I might be able to get out or at least have a better shot.

"Forget it," he answered. "Now the real pleasure and pain are going to start, little girl." His sinister smile was followed by an even more sinister laugh.

"Can I have some water?" I asked. "Before you start my torture."

"Sure, little girl," he said, "I'm not a monster." He walked over to the minibar and took out a cold bottle of water. He twisted off the top and walked over to me. He placed the bottle to my lips. Some of the water spilled down my breasts. My eyes targeted the thumb on the hand that was holding the bottle. Perfect!

My mouth clamped on his thumb like a vice. I broke the skin as his blood oozed into my mouth. He fell to the floor screaming and holding his hand. I rolled back and tucked my legs tight to my chest and slipped my bounded wrists over my butt. Thank God, I was flexible. I had two options. I could run out the door butt ass naked or kick his ass. I decided to go with the latter.

My hands were still tied, but at least in front of me, and my knife was in the car. But I was in a motel room, there had to be something I could use. I scanned the room. There was a lamp bolted to the wall next to the king size bed. That wasn't going to work. There was a heavy brass-like lamp on the desk next to the flat screen TV. I grabbed the heavy lamp off the desk and ripped the plug out of the wall. He got to his knees, but he would never touch me again. He would not control me, he would not destroy me. My hate for him was high. I will crush him completely, like my father before him, this asshole will die.

I struck him across the face with the base of the lamp. The blow knock some of his teeth out and sprayed some blood on the wall. He collapsed onto the floor. I raised the lamp up high and slammed it against his head. I repeated the action, again and again. My body was baptized as I basked in his blood. I continued to smash in his face, crushing his skulk. His body moved after each blow to the head. I smashed and smashed. Until there were no signs of life. His face turned into a fracture, fleshy mess.

I twisted, wiggled and stretched his leather belt until it fell off, freeing my wrist. I looked for my tiny black wallet purse. I didn't remember where I tossed it during the original throws of passion, before it turned into a nightmare. I found my clothes. My top was in the bathroom, my panties were on the A/C unit and my Fuck-me plumps were under the bed, right next to my tiny black wallet purse. I opened it and took out my phone. There was only one person I was going to call.

I dialed her number, waiting for a response. It rang several times, then it went to voicemail. "Fuck!" I dialed the number again and again. Still, I got the same results. I dialed it one last time. I heard soft music on the other line before I heard her voice.

"Yeah," Melissa whispered. "Is it done."

"I need you here now!"

"I'm a little busy." She continued to speak at a low volume.

"I don't care if you are going down on the President," I said. "Get your ass down here. Room 104."

"Fine."

There was no need to take a shower or clean myself off, until I took care of Mr. Calhoun's body. I grabbed one of the trash can with a fresh bag inside. I picked up his teeth that fell out of his mouth and some pieces of skin that ripped off of his face. The carpet was stained as well as the walls. I had supplies in the car to help to handles these messes. I looked at my phone to check the time, because no one set the clock in the room. I guessed his mind wasn't on the time. Now, his mind was all over the floor.

I collected his clothes and rifled through his wallet. He was carrying only three hundred dollars. "Asshole!" He was only going to pay me three hundred dollars to rape me? "If you weren't already dead," I addressed the corpse, "I would have killed you again." I put the money in my purse. I'll buy Bennie something nice with it.

With the clothes, pieces of flesh and teeth bagged away, I could focus on the body, but I needed some help. Angel Dust isn't that far away. Her ass should've been here. I heard a car pulled up and it headlights lit-up the curtains. I heard the car door slammed and soon a single knock hit the room door.

"It was about damn time." I said as I looked through the peephole, just making sure it wasn't a cop. It was Melissa. I opened the door and she quietly slipped in.

She scanned me over. "What the fuck happen to you?" Her eyes were still focused on me.

"I got a little dirty." I was still naked with her father's blood on my body.

She looked around me and saw the corpse. "What the fuck?"

"Come the fuck on," I answered. "I know this isn't the first dead body you seen? You wanted him dead or did I misinterpret the phrase 'give him hell.'"

"I wanted him dead," she said, "not have his head crushed like a melon."

"Now, you want to micromanage?" I handed her my car keys. "I need you to go to my car and bring in the trunk. It has cleaning supplies in it, but it's not too heavy."

"Are you serious?" A wide eye look came over Melissa's face and her hands started to shake. She stepped back and sat on the chair by the door. "Fuck, I can't do this."

I walked over to her and got down on my knees. I held her hands. "Hey." I slightly squeezed her hands. "I need you to breathe and calm down." I spoked in a soft and smoothing voice." She let out several deep breaths and looked into my eyes. "I know this is crazy, this was more than what you expected, but I need your help. I can't do this myself." I placed my right hand on her shoulder and felt the tension in her body. But after a couple of minutes, her shoulders dropped, her breathing return to normal. "You ready?" I asked.

She nodded her head. "I'm ready."

"Remember what they say about best friends."

"Of course." A smile came to her face. "A friend helps you move."

"A best friend helps you move a body."

She walked out the door to get my things. I stared at his body. "Asshole," I commented. "Fucking asshole!" I wanted to take a knife and cut off his dick and ram it down his fucking throat. He wasn't only one I am pissed at. Beth. Did Beth set me up to be raped by this asshole? Was she that broken, that fucked up to do this to a total stranger. When she said, 'Enjoy.' She wasn't talking to me. She was talking to him. Why? Why did she want this to happen to me? "Dammit," I swore. "That was fucked up."

There was a soft knock on the door, it was Melissa. It felt like an eternity for her to return from my car, but in reality, it was only several minutes. I let Melissa in the room and I flipped open the trunk. We took out the cleaning supplies.

"Take off your clothes," I ordered Melissa.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Are you fucking telling me that you're turned on by this?"

"No silly," I explained. "It is easy to wash the blood off of your skin than it is to wash it out of your clothes. So, take them off."

Her eyes widened as she just understood my request. "Make sense, Pitch."

We had to take care of Mr. Calhoun. This job was easier with some help. Dead weigh was a bitch to pick up. Melissa was really having a hard time with this, not because her father was murdered by your truly, but by the fact that her naked body had to rub up his against her father bloody naked body. We dragged, pulled and struggled. Making noises and sounds in other setting would be sexual in tone, but not today. The sounds represented hardship, pain and pure hate. This asshole abused Melissa and raped me. He deserved a lot worse. It was still a battle, but we finally got him in the trunk. At this moment, I decided to lay a bombshell on Melissa. She might get a kick out of it.

"By the way," I said to her, "I fucked your mom."

"What?" She yelled. "You fucked my mom?" Okay, she didn't take it as well as I hoped. "Did you fucking kill her? Is she in the bathroom rotting away. I told you leave her out of it."

I wrapped my arms around her and covered her mouth. "Keep your fucking voice down. I didn't kill her." I explained to her, but I did leave out the part where I thought Beth set me up. "We did have a threesome with your dad." I had to admit. That sounded weird coming out of my mouth. But what I said next to her was just as weird. "Your mother is a fucking freak. I mean a freak with a capital F." I uncovered her mouth and let her go.

"I can't believe this," Melissa said under her breath.

"You can call her?" I couldn't help myself for being a smartass.

"I'm not calling my mother to ask her if she had a threesome with my dad and my best friend."

"To be fair," I said. "She didn't know I was your best friend."

"Fuck you, Pitch."