The Pugilisticon Part 5
By Avida Dolor
Lisboa Constrictors


Copyright 1998 Avida Dolor (avidadolor@aol.com)

Warning: This work of fiction contains frank language and 
explicit sex and 
violence. No one under 18 permitted to read without the express 
permission 
of parent or guardian. 

Excerpt from:

Lisboa Constrictors: The Inside Story of the DaCosta Rampage. By 
Denise Massey. A Sinfully Sinew Bench Press Book

Anna and Paulina are on the road in the comfort of a spacious 
Dodge Caravan, the six-speaker sound system blasting one of the 
late Latoya's Aretha tapes. They're finally wearing t-shirts and 
shorts that fit, and now they've got cool new Nike Air Chynas on 
as they chew gum and smoke cigarettes furiously, still in a state 
of delighted shock at their good fortune. The van, a gun and two 
boxes of bullets, $2000 cash and enough coke to keep an army high 
for a year. All from one chance meeting with a musclegirl in a 
Motel 6 parking lot. "God must be on our side," Anna yells over 
the music.

"Well, he sure wasn't on Latoya's," Paulina yells back, and they 
both giggle. They didn't leave her in the room. The maid would 
find the body, then there'd be a report out on her van. This way 
they can keep it indefinitely, since it'll be months or years 
before Latoya's found, if she's found at all. The DaCostas are 
big, strong girls, and they dig good, deep graves. They folded 
Latoya into the duffel bag she kept her weights in, put her in 
the van, bought shovels at a hardware store, right after they hit 
the sporting goods store for a wardrobe, took her into the woods 
well off the interstate and put her to rest more than six feet 
under. The girls know this drill, they've done it for Sandy, Rita 
and Ruthie. They even put big rocks on the grave, the kind of 
rocks ordinary people can't lift. And they didn't leave the 
Lassiters' pickup at the motel either. Anna drove it into a field 
in the middle of nowhere ten miles away, Paulina following, and 
pushed it into a deep ditch, plate-stripped. Mama DaCosta didn't 
raise no dumb girls.

"Question is," says Anna behind her new Speedo shades as she 
turns down the music, ``where we headed?''

Paulina takes a thoughtful drag on her Kool. "We won't have no 
trouble crossing the border. This van isn't hot."

"No, but we are. They've gotta have descriptions of us at the 
border. I'm sure they'll figure we'll head that way. We're easy 
to spot, babe, we're too damn big and beautiful."

"Then let's turn around and go to Mexico."

"Fuck, you nuts? You know how hot it is down there now? Like an 
oven. We'll go way north, where the weather's nice and there 
ain't too many people. We'll figure out how to cross the border 
later. Let's get some booze now, get a room and party. I wanna do 
some more coke and watch TV."

The girls pull in at a package store and put on their new blue 
Nike warmup suits before they exit the van. They want to keep 
themselves covered up, be as inconspicuous as possible, not give 
anyone a reason to remember them.  But no sooner do they hit the 
vodka aisle than they regret their low profile. There before 
them, hefting a jug of Absolut that's dwarfed by the absolutely 
stupendous jugs that bulge from the steel supports of her 
pecworks like guava cannons, is a hulking, massive blonde in a 
tight United States Olympic Team t-shirt, tight-belted hiking 
khaki shorts and tight-laced hiking boots, all her bare, bulging 
limbs popping in an explosion of vein-thick muscle.

"Oh, fuck my head till I'm dead," hisses Anna to Paulina, "will 
you look at the size of that salsa blanca?"

"She looks familiar," whispers Paulina. "Didn't we see her on TV? 
The Olympics or something?"

Yes! It's the shot putter, Melissa "Missy" Mathias. It's gotta 
be! They go up and ask as politely as possible. Missy Mathias 
looks down at them--she's 6-4--and gives them the once over 
before replying in a deep, authoritative voice. "Yeah, I'm the 
shot putter you saw on TV. The *ex*-shot putter."

Missy's bitter about getting thrown out of the Olympic Trials. 
She has a drug problem, it's obvious, the heavy 'roid regimen 
she's been on since high school has plainly changed her, but she 
thought she laid off in time to beat the test, and anyway, they'd 
cut her slack at the Olympic committee, they need her. No such 
luck. She'd probably beat a pee test, but they tap a vein 
nowadays, and this test is infallible. The stuff is in her blood 
like a double shot of vodka in a tall glass of tomato juice. So 
the team is missing it's biggest, strongest thrower, who was all 
set to break the world record, 'cause of these stupid drug rules. 
The Chinese'll win, they don't worry about this 'roid shit. 
They've got a shot girl who's 6-5, 270, with a goatee. It's 
fucked. Thank God for the Female Ring Combat Association. After 
this hiking/camping vacation, Missy intends to sign on as Vagyna, 
arch villainess, and make a fortune. The FRCA people already 
promised her the heavyweight belt within a year. Before too long 
she'll have her own action figure, maybe even a Saturday morning 
cartoon.

"You girls want autographs or something?" Missy demands.

"Yeah," says Paulina. "Could you write your name in spit all over 
my tits?"

 There's no one else in the aisle, and this store in the sticks 
is not the type to have security cameras, so Paulina takes the 
opportunity to quickly zip open her warmup jacket and pull up her 
t-shirt. She's bralessly busty and nipple stiff, and she starts 
pec flexing wildly, making the big titties bounce and jiggle at 
Missy like they were flashing flesh neon. Missy's eyes go wide 
and her tongue, which looks so big it might belong on a cow, 
hangs out of her mouth and starts waggling around down near her 
big square jaw. Paulina pulls her tee down and dives a hand into 
her pants, working a finger around down there, then brings it up 
glistening and runs it under her nose for a deep sniff. "You got 
my clam all wet already, Missy. Fuck me with a space shuttle, you 
look so good in shorts, babe!"

"We look good in shorts too," says Anna, as she spins around and 
shakes her big ass at Missy, then pulls the legs of her warmup 
pants up to her knees and stands up on her toes so her 18-inch 
calves bulge. "We work out hard, Missy, you don't wanna miss us. 
Get a room with us somewhere and let's party. You with anyone?"

"No, I'm alone," says the slightly stunned female-famished field 
athlete. Missy hasn't had a piece of anything but her own pie in 
a week, and she's ready to hunker down for an all-you-can-eat pig 
party. "I'm camping out, I've got a big tent. We can get down 
there." Missy is supposed to be on a cleansing solo outing, 
something to clear her head of all the Olympic crap before she 
becomes a wrestling freak. She loves sleeping under the stars. 
But she also loves slurping under the stars. That's why she has 
two extra sleeping bags in her Dodge Ram pickup. One's her backup 
bag and the other's for that special someone she meets on the 
road. Meeting twins must be prophetic, it's her horoscope sign.

"Hey, this is so fucking good, isn't it?" says Paulina, taking a 
swig off the vodka bottle, her lush body bathed in firelight. 
They're in a clearing in the woods in the middle of who the fuck 
knows. Missy has a great big tent, you can almost stand up in it, 
but they're outside sitting on blankets, it's warm even at night 
now, and Missy really knows how to make a blaze. She's kinda 
clumsy and bearlike in bed, she wouldn't take more than the 
Bronze in overall sensuality, but that's because of her size--
she's so bulked up she's *stiff* with muscle. And the girls must 
give her credit for some truly remarkable clamming--Missy's 
tongue is so big and strong she can curl it in half and fuck you 
with it, no shit. But the sisters concentrated on their big new 
friend, doing frontsies/backsies on her till she lowed like a 
high heifer. The three of them rolled around in the tent for an 
hour after dinner, and Missy came so many times she cried. Or 
maybe she was shedding tears for the lost Olympics.

Anyway, Anna and Paulina were stunned by her body, they couldn't 
stop rubbing their hands all over it. Missy's clit is three 
inches of 'roided ramjet, and the sisters couldn't stop sucking 
on it. This ball heaver is just the biggest, hardest thing 
they've ever touched or  even seen. Paulina is sitting close to 
Missy now by the fire, their big bare thighs touching, and she 
starts running her hands over Missy's upper arm again, marveling 
at the stone solid mass of bicep that seems to dwarf Missy's 
head. "Hey, Miss, you bigger than Daryl Buck?"

"In raw inches? Fuck, yeah. But not by much. I've got 23-inch 
arms cold, they pump over 24. But it's an unfair comparison. I 
weigh 260. She's got bigger arms for her size than I do. I bet 
she's stronger than me on a per-pound basis, too." Missy shakes 
her head sadly, probably thinking about the Olympics again. 
Paulina lights a Kool and passes the vodka to Anna as Missy 
powers to her feet, her 21-inch calves bulging, to stumble into 
the woods to pee.

"There's no way in the world I could crush this girl in my arms," 
whispers Paulina. "I put a hug on her I don't even think she'd 
feel it. She'd think it was a love hug. From a love bug."

"That's what you're thinking about, Paulie? Trying to kill her? 
Why'd we want to kill such a beautiful girl? She's being so good 
to us, too."

"What happens if after we leave her tomorrow she gets the story 
about us off the news? She can make our van. We want to keep the 
van, don't we? I like that van."

"Oh, fuckin' *please*. She'd never rat on us. She wouldn't care 
about the kidnapping thing. She's an outsider, like us. Latoya 
won't be found, no one will ever know about the murder. Let's 
leave her be, baby. She's gonna be Vagyna in Firca. You don't 
wanna see her wrestle on TV? It'll be awesome."

Just then two women walk into the clearing, tall sturdy girls in 
some sort of uniforms with Smokey Bear-type hats. "Put the 
fuckin' fire out, ladies, pack up your gear and hit the road," 
says the one on the left, the one with long hair. "There's no 
campin' in these woods, you're totally illegal out here."

Anna and Paulina are just staring up at them, dumbfounded, but 
their overheated brains are attuned in sister solidarity. The gun 
is in one of the straw bags in the van, they're thinking. They're 
gonna have to just overpower these bitches and kill them with 
their hands. "They're drunk," says the one on the right, the 
short-haired one, "we can't put 'em on the road. Let's just take 
'em in and let 'em sleep it off in the cage."

That's when Missy steps silently into the clearing, grabs the two 
cops by the backs of their necks and actually bangs their heads 
together like in a monster movie, their hats flying. She hurls 
them to the ground like they were toys, pulls their guns out of 
their holsters and checks their ankles for backup weapons. Yeah, 
they're both armed down there, too. Missy stands back with the 
four guns in her hands and is starting to say, "Well, damn lucky 
for you that I had to pee--" when Anna and Paulina spring off the 
ground, race around the fire and start kicking the cops with 
their bare feet, stomping on their necks and heads. Missy just 
whistles softly through her teeth, puts all the guns down in a 
pile, picks up the vodka bottle and sits down to watch.

The sisters strip the bruised, bleeding cops to their bras and 
panties--boots, socks, gunbelts, pants and shirts are thrown in a 
pile. Then they handcuff them behind their backs, gag them with 
duct tape, which they just happen to have in their van, then they 
tape them together into a sort of human log and load them into 
the cargo space. "We've gotta get going, Missy," says Paulina, 
"and you do too." Anna meanwhile runs off through the woods with 
a flashlight and the cops' keys.

"Where's she going?" asks Missy.

"The cops'll have a car by the side of the road. They probably 
called in that they were checking out the woods around here, they 
could probably see the fire from the road. So we gotta move fast, 
we gotta assume the cops know our location. Anna will turn the 
lights out on the car and drive it into the woods. Then we split. 
We wanna put as much distance between this place and ourselves as 
possible by sunup."

"What about the cops? What are you taking them for?"

"We'll let them go somewhere else, far away. We don't want them 
around right now to give the other cops a lead." She kisses Missy 
tenderly on the mouth and on each nearly toilet plunger-sized 
nipple bulging through her t-shirt. "We loved partying with you, 
big girl. We'll meet up again sometime, we'll come to one of your 
Firca shows. Now take down that tent and hit the road. Go south," 
she adds as her hand does just that to get one more fistful of 
Missy's humongous clit.

After driving all night jacked up on coke, late the next morning 
Anna and Paulina are in another stretch of dense woods airing out 
the cops, who have been untaped from each other so they can 
relieve themselves. They don't say  a word, they seem to be in a 
state of shock, but they know who their captors are and the 
sisters know they know. Paulina's sizing the cops up. They're 
both in their mid-30s, she guesses, about 5-10, maybe around 150. 
One's got a bleached frizzy perm, the other's got short dark hair 
cut butch style, but it's the blonde who has the better build by 
far--a lean, wiry physique with a lot of vein and muscle. Tight, 
flat abs that could stand a hard punching, small pert titties 
built on a mouthwatering wall of sculpted pec. Cute face too, 
with pretty green eyes. Their clothes and their ID are in the 
van, but Paulina doesn't want to look in their wallets, she 
doesn't give a shit what their names are or anything, they'll be 
dead soon.

 The sisters light Kools, pull their shorts and panties down and 
squat and pee, then wipe off with a roll of paper towels they 
have for just this purpose. Dainty. The cops stay bush-wet. "The 
short-haired one is an easy crush," says Anna, out of earshot. "I 
wanna do her, you know what I'm sayin'? The other one, she looks 
tough. Her muscles are like steel, I bet she's way strong for her 
weight. But this short-haired chick is a softie. She's not built 
well for a cop. Don't they make them work out? I wanna fold her 
up like a paper cup." Anna hits the dirt and starts doing 
pushups. Paulina giggles. The cops are standing there awkwardly, 
their mouths taped, hands cuffed behind their backs, panties 
around their ankles.

 Paulina rolls a fat joint, while Anna, after about 75 pushups, 
gets the 40-pound bells out of the van and starts combo'ing curls 
with presses, alternating the sets with a bent flyes and rows 
combo. The blonde is motioning to Paulina with her head. She 
walks away from her partner and makes knowing eyes at her captor, 
who goes over and stands close. The blonde is making talking 
noises through the tape and nodding vigorously. Paulina peels the 
gag off. "Hi, I'm Nikki. You girls are gorgeous. I sure would 
like a few hits off the joint, if you don't mind, babe."

Cool come-on. "Sure, cutie-pie." Paulina splits the joint with 
the cop, holding the doob to her lips so she can pull on it, 
while Anna continues to pump up. The soft butch is just standing 
off to the side looking terrified. "I tell you what," hisses 
Nikki between tokes. "I ain't got no love for Marcy. She's my 
partner, but that's only a technicality. I get the impression 
your sister is getting ready to work us over. I'd be perfectly 
happy to work Marcy over for you, as a gesture of my, uh, loyalty 
or something. I want to get tight with you girls."

"You'd work over your own partner?"

"Yeah. There's no love lost between us. It's a long story, but I 
don't like her. I'll kick the living shit out of her for you, 
just uncuff me and I'll prove it."

Paulina pulls Nikki's panties back up over her incongruously dark 
pubic thatch and adjusts them on her hips. "Go over and kick her 
in the crotch. Lemme see you do that."

Nikki smiles conspiratorially, walks casually over to Marcy, who 
looks suspicious but stands there unflinchingly, and snaps the 
ball of her right foot into the girl's bare cunt. Marcy doubles 
over and gags behind her gag. Her eyes roll up into her head, 
then she pitches over backwards onto the dirt. Her knees are 
spread invitingly, her ankles tangled in her panties. The blonde 
looks over her shoulder at Paulina. "Another?"

"What the fuck is this?" sputters Anna, who's dropped her bells. 
She's panting, coated in sweat, as she takes the roach from 
Paulina and pulls on it hard.

"Blondie has volunteered to beat the shit out of her partner for 
us," Paulina giggles. "That was just a down payment."

"We don't need her to beat the shit out of her partner," says 
Anna. "I'm gonna *squeeze* the shit out of her partner." Anna 
whips her tank top off and starts to crunch through some poses, 
working from a double bi to a side chest, a front lat spread, 
then the other side chest. The two sides add up to something as 
big as a bank safe; the blood is flowing hard and she feels 
swelled-up strong.

"You never gonna crush that girl," says Paulina. "She's too big. 
It only works with little girls, Anna. What's butchy babe weigh, 
blondie?"

"I'm Nikki. About 155. She's 5-10. She's actually a pretty strong 
girl, though I can kill her in any lift."

Paulina shakes her head sympathetically. "You can't crush someone 
that big to death, Anna. Just can't be done. You could hurt her, 
but you ain't gonna break her. This girl ain't no musclegirl, but 
she ain't no little Ruthie."

"I snapped everything on Ruthie like she was in a trash 
compactor," says Anna as she turns her back on her sister and 
fans herself out in an achingly big lat spread.

"Ruthie was what, 5-1, 105? You can't do this girl like that. 
Maybe Missy could, but we ain't Missy."

"Uncuff me and lemme work Marcy over," pleads Nikki. "I wanna get 
in good with you girls. I was never a serious cop, the Highway 
Patrol is bullshit, it sucks. I was on the take up to my eyes, I 
let speeders go for cash all the time. I can be an asset to you, 
I know the way cops work. I can help you hide."

"So all we had to do was pay you to camp here?" Anna asks.

"Actually, yeah. We woulda been on our merry way."

"But then you woulda called us in on the radio. You made us right 
away. Right? Or you just woulda drawn on us and tried to take us 
in yourselves. Get all the glory."

"If I made you that fast, how come I didn't have my gun out?"

Anna doesn't answer as everyone turns to look at Marcy, who's 
groaning. She rolls onto her side, she's struggling to her knees, 
her panties still around her ankles. Anna runs over and takes 
Marcy from behind in a sleeper, locking it on hard so Marcy's 
eyes bulge and her nostrils flutter. Nikki can't seem to contain 
herself. She starts snap kicking Marcy in the chest and belly 
until Anna drags her victim away protectively, jerks Marcy to her 
feet and moves the girl neatly from the sleeper to a pressing 
position, powering her overhead, holding her there a little 
shakily, then pressing her for five quick cheaty reps before 
dropping her on the ground like she was a barbell. Then Anna 
turns on Nikki, clubs her in the head with a forearm and bitch 
slaps her a few times. "What's your name, blondie?"

"Nikki. There's no need to hit me, I'm on your side now."

"You really wanna waste your partner, tricky Nikki?"

"You want me to kill her? I'll kill her for you, if you'll let me 
join your gang."

"We don't have a gang, not anymore," says Paulina sadly. "It's 
just the two of us. You gotta fight her fair and square." Paulina 
gets the two 9mm automatics, the sidearms they took off the cops, 
hands one to Anna along with the key for the cuffs. "Uncuff the 
butch, shoot her in the head if she tries anything."

Not likely; Marcy's still in the dirt, fetally bunched in pain 
from Nikki's foot. Anna uncuffs her, tears the tape off her 
mouth, pulls her panties back up. "Nikki, get down on the ground 
on your tits," says Paulina, pointing the gun at her face. When 
Nikki's down flat, Anna uncuffs her and steps gingerly back.

Paulina prods Marcy with her foot. "Butch, you better get up now, 
your partner is about to kick your ass. You two go at it now, and 
any fucking around we shoot you both."

Marcy suddenly scrambles to her feet as Nikki charges her. They 
slam together in the dirt like butting rams, grapple wildly for 
advantage and when the dust clears Marcy has Nikki by a leg, 
driving her back off balance and over onto her side, straddling 
her quickly and savagely punching her in the side of the head. 
Nikki takes several thudding blows before she can twist herself 
into position to deliver a backfist, which she slams into Marcy's 
mouth hard enough to knock her out of her straddle onto her ass 
in the dirt.

Nikki scrambles to her feet again and pauses to let Marcy get up. 
She's on her knees, a bit dazed from the backfist, wiping a dirty 
hand across her bleeding lips. Nikki's got a black belt in tae 
kwon do and hits board-breaking hard; Marcy never went in for 
martial arts much, she's more a wrestling, street-fighting type. 
Now she's cursing her disadvantage; Nikki's gonna wipe the floor 
with her and there isn't much she can do about it except try to 
get inside and break something on the girl.

 They circle, reach out tentatively to each other, touching 
fingertips like the girls do in Firca, then suddenly their hands 
are locked up and they're in a hand-to-hand test of strength just 
like on TV except this is for real. How the fuck did this happen? 
Marcy wonders. She doesn't wonder long. In under ten seconds, 
she's on her knees, the pain searing up her arms, her hands bent 
back so things are ripping in her wrists, the knuckles 
splintering, and now she's down on her face screaming at the top 
of her lungs, then Nikki has pulled her partway up and she's 
kicking her in the lungs, snapping the ball of her foot under her 
tits, still pulling back on the ruined hands and Marcy feels her 
ribs buckling under the foot pounding, Nikki kicks like a mule. 
Then Nikki lets her go and she falls back on the dirt in a pain-
drenched swoon.

Anna and Paulina are standing there mouths hanging open, making 
slow rolls with their hips, rubbing their wet lips through their 
shorts. "Fuck me with a telephone pole, that was totally fucking 
awesome," mutters Anna.

"This Nikki is a pretty smooth operator," says Paulina quietly. 
"Too bad we have to kill her."

"Maybe we *should* let her join us," Anna muses.

"I wouldn't trust her for a second without her cuffs on."

"So she'll keep her cuffs on. We'll cuff her in front so she'll 
be able to eat. Let's keep her around for a while."

"OK, cool. Nikki, that was bitchin'," Paulina yells. "You get to 
join us. But first kill that bitch."

"And you'll let me live?"

"Yeah, you can come with us, but you gotta stay cuffed. But first 
you gotta kill the butchie. Then dig her grave. Then we split. 
Get to it, we gotta go soon."

"No tape, just cuffs?"

"Right, no tape."

"Fine." Nikki looks down at Marcy. Marcy's hands are bent all 
wrong, the fingers splayed out funny. Her eyes look dim yet 
terrified and she's making these horrible mewling noises, 
wheezing hoarsely between whimpers from the busted ribs. "That 
was for Bernadette, Marcy," the strong blonde says. "And this is 
for me, 'cause I'm getting out of here in one piece and you're 
not. I'll be merciful, though, and make it swift."

She pulls Marcy's dead unresisting weight off the ground from 
under the armpits and stands behind her, holding the limp girl up 
with a grip around her head and neck. "Watch this," she says to 
the sisters, as if something else was competing for their 
attention. She puts one hand under Marcy's jaw and the other at 
the back of her head as if she was wrestling a steer and jerks 
hard and sudden, pulling the chin up and around and snapping the 
neck with a muffled crack like a gun with a silencer. Marcy's 
gone all slack like an unstrung marionette, her limbs floppy, and 
Nikki lets her drop in a heap. "That's it for her. She's 
history."

"Did she shit herself?" Anna wonders.

"Nah, I don't think so," says Nikki, poking with a toe at Marcy's 
panties. "She hasn't even got any food in her."

"Too bad." Anna gets a shovel from the van.

"Speaking of which, I'm getting pretty hungry," says Nikki matter 
of factly. "Can't I eat before I dig the grave?"

"Sure, babe, we got all kinds of snack shit in the van. We don't 
expect you to bury your partner on an empty stomach." The sisters 
giggle.

An hour later they're on the road, Nikki cuffed behind her back 
in the back seat. She's in a baggy Nike sweatsuit, feeling pretty 
good. All that digging really pumped her shoulders up. They hit a 
McDonald's drive-thru and get a load of quarter pounders and 
stuff. Anna arranges Nikki at gunpoint so she can eat--one hand 
is free, the other is cuffed to a door grip. Anna sits in the 
back seat with her like that, and Nikki is no problem. Then they 
hit a mall, where Anna does some shopping while Paulina waits in 
the van with Nikki. Then Paulina drives like a demon, all coked 
up, and at dusk they hit a Days Inn off the Interstate.

Anna gets the room, now Paulina stays in the van with Nikki. When 
the sisters are settled in the room, they improvise a workout 
with their chinning bar and bells while Nikki watches on the bed, 
cuffed behind. Anna and Paulina are conflicted; they want to 
party with Nikki and get the girl all pumped up and make her one 
of them, but she's a cop and they just can't trust her. She 
killed her partner, true, but that seemed to be a personal thing. 
"What you gotta do, Nikki," says Anna as she finishes a set of 
40-pound concentration curls, sitting on the one straight-backed 
chair in the room, "is kill someone else. We'll videotape it and 
send the tape to a friend we have back home. For, like, 
insurance, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Anna bought a low-end Sony 8mm vidcam at Sears with some of 
Latoya's cash. Not just to tape Nikki, of course--it's always 
good to have a video record of everything you do when you're on a 
rampage--but that was part of her plan. Nikki has no problem with 
this idea. "Who do I kill?"

"Don't worry," says Paulina, "we'll go out and find someone 
tomorrow after breakfast."

The girls get it on as a threesome with Nikki cuffed in front, 
and after watching some TV and coming down from the coke stoke 
with the better part of a bottle of Jack Daniels, they hit the 
sack. The sisters sleep in one bed, Nikki gets the other, cuffed 
by one hand to the bedframe.

The next morning at Burger King they spot their target. A tall 
skinny girl with long brown hair, a real looker, could be a 
model. She's with a short guy who is apparently her boyfriend. 
"Maybe he's her agent," says Paulina. "He's too short to be her 
boyfriend. What's the girl, 6-1?"

"Probably," says Anna, bits of cheesy bacon falling out of her 
mouth. "Hard to tell, she's got big heels on."

"That guy can't be more than 5-6," Paulina huffs. "She'd never 
date that fuckin' midget. What do you think, Nikki?"

Nikki has her Croissanwich in one hand, her orange juice in the 
other--the cuffs are in the van. The sisters both have police 
Brownings under their sweatsuits and swore they'd kill her if she 
tried anything. "I think that little guy is dead meat. I think 
this is his last meal. Too bad it's a fucking fast-food 
breakfast. I wanna off that guy. I don't like him."

"What about the chick?" says Paulina.

"I wanna sit on her gorgeous face," says Nikki.

"I wanna put her through the wringer," says Anna. "I gotta put 
the press on somebody, you know what I'm sayin'? I can do her, 
right Pauly, she don't weigh no more than like 110? You think?"

"Oh, yeah, I think she'll go real good you get yourself pumped up 
enough, baby. She don't weigh shit. Her bones look real fragile."

The three girls smoke Kools and drink coffee till their marks are 
done, then they follow them onto the Interstate, Paulina driving. 
They follow them off an exit a couple minutes later, follow them 
to an empty, narrow winding road in the woods, and then Paulina 
neatly runs them off into a clearing in a screech of sheet metal, 
the van leaving long claw marks along the side of the white BMW. 
"Cool, Pauly," says Anna, "that was just like a TV show!"

 The guy gets out of the car, livid. "What the fuck was that?!" 
he rants. "You fucking girls don't have a clue about how to 
drive, do you!?"

 Paulina gets out of the van and the guy bites his tongue, a bit 
taken aback by her size. "Look, honey--" he starts, and Paulina 
makes him bite his tongue again with a fast fist in the mouth 
that knocks him right off his feet. Anna races around to the far 
side of the car and pulls the tall girl out as she's trying to 
dial a cell phone. The poor chick didn't even think to lock the 
door. Nikki, meanwhile, is cuffed to the door of the van, just 
watching through the window. Anna twists the phone out of the 
girl's hand, stomps on it, she's got her sneakers on now, 
smashing it to pieces, and Paulina almost does the same to the 
guy's hand. He yelps in pain, tries to scuttle away, and Paulina 
cuffs him to the door of his car and bitch slaps him a few times.

"This is a good setup," Paulina says to her sister. "We can't be 
seen from the road and we're in the middle of fucking nowhere."

"It's fucking perfect," says Anna. "We could take our time here, 
you know what I'm sayin'?"

"What the fuck is going on here?!" the guy whines. There's blood 
trickling from each corner of his lower lip like he's got a red 
fu manchu. "Do I know you two? Is this revenge for something? 
I've got cash on me, take my wallet."

He offers it to Paulina, who takes it from him, removes the cash-
-$480--and tosses it on the ground. "Shut up now, man," she says. 
"I don't wanna hear a word out of you. You make a sound, I cut 
your throat." Paulina's got this big folding knife in her hand 
and she holds it to his neck, grabbing him by the hair and 
jerking back so his twitching Adam's apple is exposed like a 
chunk of  sacrificial meat.

Anna hustles the girl around the car; she's silent and 
unresisting, just looking cute and confused. She suddenly starts 
to struggle as Anna strips her, flailing wildly with her arms as 
the much bigger girl rips her blouse and bra off, then flailing 
wildly with her legs as Anna lifts her up and turns her upside 
down and spills her out of her shorts, then tears the panties off 
her narrow hips.

The guy says nothing, there's wild fear in his eyes. "She don't 
weigh shit," Anna says to Paulina. "I could throw this bitch like 
a football." Anna walks over to the guy, dragging the girl behind 
her by the hair, fumbling along on her knees. "Hey, motherfucker, 
this your girlfriend?"

The guy doesn't answer, he's in some kind of shock. Then he 
whispers, "Take the car and go, please. Use my credit cards, I 
won't report them, I promise."

Anna jerks the girl upright by her hair. "Chickie, this your 
boyfriend?"

"Yes, he's my boyfriend," she says calmly. "What is this all 
about? Why are you doing this to us?"

"Find out in a minute, babe," says Anna. "First tell me this: how 
old are you?"

"I'm 23."

"You what, six feet tall?" The girl is barefoot now and her eyes 
are on a level with Anna's.

"Yeah, closer to 6-1."

"And what do you weigh?"

"Like 108. I'm a model. An aspiring model."

"What does that mean?"

"I just got into modeling recently. I used to be a hair stylist. 
I haven't really done much yet."

"And you ain't gonna. Come with me." She pulls the girl along by 
the hair over to the van and uncuffs Nikki.

"Finally!" says Nikki, rubbing her freed wrist and wiggling the 
long strong fingers, all the vein and sinew in her forearm dirty 
dancing. "Can she sit on my face?"

"She better she knows what's good for her. You hear that, skinny? 
You gonna sit on Nikki's face now, then she'll sit on yours. You 
gonna be real sweet to her or I'm gonna make you cry." Anna 
pushes the girl at Nikki and locks up the van--that's where the 
other guns are, besides the pieces that are bulging from the 
sisters' shorts, and she's not taking any chances with Nikki 
loose.

Nikki tentatively embraces the skinny girl and starts nuzzling 
her neck, kissing her on the ears and shoulders, and the girl 
doesn't resist, she actually seems to be enjoying it, as if she's 
been with girls before. Anna takes up the Sony and starts 
shooting Nikki and the girl, who are tongue kissing passionately 
now, running their hands all over each other. Nikki whips her t-
shirt off, she's topless, her thick cherry red nipples stiff and 
bouncy as her pecs flex excitedly.

"God," says the skinny girl, "have you got muscles!"

"Watch how strong I am," says Nikki as she scoops the girl up in 
the air, both hands under her ass and lifts her pussy to face 
level for a straight-up chew. The girl closes her eyes and throws 
her head back in pleasure, gripping Nikki's big shoulders.

Then the guy yells, "Sarah, what the fuck are you doing!? What 
are you making her do, you sick fucking bitches!?"

"Shut up, fuckface, you're ruining the mood over here," Anna 
snarls. Paulina puts her knife away and punches the guy in the 
crotch. He crumples to his knees, moaning, hanging by his locked 
hand to the car door.

Nikki has gotten naked, and she and Sarah are rolling around in a 
patch of weeds, locked head to crotch, Anna standing over them 
shooting like it was an outdoor porn set.

"Hey, girl," Paulina yells, "come over here and get me, leave 
those two lovebirds alone. I wanna make this guy come, you know 
what I'm sayin'? He gets to shoot his wad one last time."

Anna turns from the frolicking girls and walks toward the BMW. 
Paulina punches the guy in the chest so hard he's frozen like a 
skull-stunned steer, and she takes the opportunity to remove his 
shoes, pants and underwear. Anna comes in close with the camera 
as Paulina starts jerking the guy off, trying to bring him up 
big.

"Where's his prick?" Anna asks.

"In my fucking hand," Paulina replies, furiously rubbing between 
the guy's legs.

"I can't see it."

"I can't even feel it! It's not getting hard. Maybe I shouldn'ta 
hit him down there."

"Take your shirt off and give him some tittie. That'll get him 
hot. It sure fuckin' works for me."

Paulina takes her tank top off and starts rubbing her big tits in 
the guy's face, flexing her pecs hard so they thrust against his 
grimacing mouth. His eyes are blank, he's not responding. He's 
gone catatonic. But then his cock starts to grow as Paulina's 
thick brown nipples bang against his bloody lips. "Look at that!" 
yells Paulina triumphantly. "He blew up like a fuckin' salami!" 
Paulina spits in her hand and jerks the guy's stiff cock 
vigorously, and in a matter of seconds he shoots a big wrenching, 
moaning load in the dirt as Anna gleefully captures it all on 
tape.

Nikki comes over with her arm around Sarah like they were a pair 
of lesbian nudist campers. "Aren't I supposed to kill this guy? 
He seems to be having a pretty good time."

"Shit, you're not really gonna kill Eddie are you?" Sarah whines. 
Suddenly Eddie lurches at Anna, who's just within his reach, and 
punches her in the jaw, a glancing blow with not much behind it. 
Paulina responds by lifting her ankle into Eddie's balls, and he 
collapses in a groaning heap, unable to curl up in the fetal ball 
he so desperately wants to dissolve into, his arm chained to the 
car.

"Thanks, babe," says Anna. "And as for you, fuckin' Eddie, you 
gonna pay for that. You gonna be in a car accident." Anna hands 
the camera to Nikki and says, "Make sure you get this." She goes 
around the car to the passenger side and starts to lift. It's a 
little two-door Beemer, and it's moving. Paulina runs over and 
helps and the two of them lift the car easily, crushing Eddie's  
legs under the driver's-side door. He's screaming like a maniac, 
and Sarah is  standing there gesturing helplessly and muttering, 
"Be cool, Eddie, it'll be OK, baby," tears streaming down her 
face.

The sisters come back around the car, which remains balanced 
precariously on its side, to check out their handiwork, and Anna 
takes the camera back from Nikki. "So I kill him now?" asks 
Nikki.

"Fuckin' A you do, baby. How you gonna do it? You want my knife? 
I ain't gonna give you a gun, though this motherfucker deserves 
to get his head popped."

"Don't be silly, I'm gonna strangle him with his own belt," she 
says as she pulls the black leather belt out of Eddie's discarded 
jeans. "Paulina, please keep an eye on Sarah here, she might try 
to attack me or something."

Paulina wraps Sarah's beautiful long brown hair around her fist 
so she's controlling her head like a puppet. Nikki stretches out 
her arms, making her joints pop, flexing her biceps a few times 
so the delectably full-blown bellies look like they're breathing. 
She gets on her knees, loops the belt around Eddie's neck, 
doubles each end around a fist and starts pulling her hands 
apart. Eddie goes beet red and apoplectic and his legs would be 
kicking like a baby's if they weren't crushed under the car. His 
one free arm goes to the belt at his neck, but he can't get any 
fingers under it, it's biting deep into his flesh. Nikki is in a 
Zen strangle trance, veins bulging in her neck and forehead, her 
lips twisted with the effort.

"Go, Nikki, go,'' exhorts Anna from behind the camera. Then 
Eddie, who's had his windpipe shut off for going on a minute, 
gets totally frantic and starts pulling on the car with his 
cuffed hand. He pulls so hard he makes his wrist bleed, and the 
car starts to teeter on its side, then it quickly topples over 
upside down with a fanfare of crunching glass and metal, Nikki 
nimbly shoulder-rolling out from under it at the last second. 
Eddie is underneath it, his head somewhere under the roof, it 
seems.

"Fuck, do you think the car killed him?" Paulina wonders. Sarah 
has started sobbing again, babbling sad nothings under her 
breath.

"Gonna have to pull it the fuck off him and find out," says Anna, 
who's still shooting. "You and Nikki do it, I wanna shoot this."

Paulina and Nikki lift the car without much trouble and push it 
back up and over so it slams down onto its tires, pulling Eddie 
back to his original door-cuffed position like Ahab on a mini-
whale. His head is bleeding, the belt still fairly tight around 
his neck, and his legs are bleeding from the original crush, but 
he's clearly not dead.

"I'm gonna get you fuckers!" he sputters, blinking furiously as 
blood runs into his eyes from a gash in his forehead.

"He's OK," says Paulina. "The ground's kinda soft. So's his head. 
Get back to it Nikki."

Nikki resumes her strangle posture, then thinks better of it and 
rearranges herself. "I'm gonna do a high-leverage thing," she 
announces. She positions herself behind Eddie, gets her feet up 
against his back and pulls up and out on the belt with both 
hands, tightening herself into the pose till she's almost 
vibrating with the effort, the muscles in her back etched deep in 
electric relief. This goes on for what seems a full three 
minutes, the only sounds being Nikki's grunts of exertion and 
Sarah's faint sobs of protest. Eddie's head seems detached from 
his body, just a big red blob blowing out of the belt, the eyes 
dead, the face frozen in a mask of twisted shock, the tip of the 
tongue protruding like an idiot's, then his half-hard cock starts 
spurting semen all over his thighs, the bruised, swollen balls 
jerking in their purpled sac, and Nikki releases the belt and 
falls back, her chest heaving, a deep groan of pleasure rolling 
over her lips.

"Shit, you squeezed an extra come out of him," Paulina marvels.

"He better be fucking dead," she pants. "I fucking *hanged* the 
guy on the ground."

"He looks like he died young, but he sure didn't leave no pretty 
corpse," says Anna from behind the camera as she shoots a closeup 
of the mottled,  balloony rictus that is Eddie's face. "We should 
do a mirror test."

Sarah suddenly gets hysterical and starts wailing, pounding her 
fists on Paulina's big shoulders. Paulina punches her between the 
eyes and sends her flying onto her back. The big girl goes over 
to the car, steps over Eddie's grotesque form, reaches in and 
rips the rearview mirror loose. She holds it to Eddie's face. 
"Nothin'. He ain't makin' no fuckin' donuts."

"Peachy," says Nikki as she gets to her feet. "Any more of that 
pulling, I woulda tore a fucking rotator cuff or something. So 
you girls happy? I did it, it's recorded for posterity. Am I in 
now?"

"Sorta," says Anna. "We still gotta mail the tape. What I want 
you to do is handle the camera now while I take care of crybaby. 
But first I gotta pump up."

Anna gets the bells out of the van while Nikki sets up some lines 
of coke and rolls a joint. They all do lines, then Anna hits the 
ground for pushups while Nikki and Paulina pass the doob in 
silence. Sarah's sitting cross-legged like an erotic lawn 
ornament, stupored out, her distant eyes shot red from Paulina's 
punch. "Hey, you wanna get stoned, Sarah?" Paulina yells. "We got 
good shit here." No answer.

Anna works through her dumbbell prep while Nikki and Paulina 
uncuff Eddie, roll him up in a blanket they find in the trunk of 
his car and stash him in the van. A car passes on the other side 
of the tree cover, the first one since they arrived, and Paulina 
cocks an apprehensive ear. "Hey, Anna, a car just went by, did 
you hear that? Let's get moving here, we gotta drive for a few 
hours then bury these two somewhere. We got, like, a busy day, 
you know what I'm sayin'?"

Anna, grunting through 40-pound curls, says, "Just a fuckin' 
minute, I'm done."

She finally drops the bells, takes off her sweat-soaked tank top-
-it's hot out now--flexes hard a few times to get the blood 
flowing, and announces, "OK, I'm ready. Get the duct tape, Pauly, 
OK?"

Nikki takes up the camera as Anna goes over to Sarah, who's still 
sitting on the grass. She lifts her up under the armpits, holds 
her close, kisses her tenderly all over the face, brushing the 
hair out of her eyes. Sarah is limp and unresponsive like a rag 
doll. Paulina comes up from behind and tapes Sarah's mouth over. 
"What about her arms?" she asks.

"I don't think those pencils gonna be a problem," says Anna. She 
widens her stance a little, sets herself and puts the hug on with 
a deep bellow, trying to pull the skinny girl right through her. 
The crush takes its toll in a matter of seconds. Sarah lets out a 
muffled squeal from under the duct tape that turns into a faint 
but high-pitched ominous whine like a dentist's drill heard from 
the next room. She wants to use her arms to fight back, but she 
can't get them out from under Anna's encircling iron grip. Her 
head is twisting around frantically, her eyes horse-wide with 
terror, but she's trapped, suffocating in this big woman's 
embrace like her insides are toothpaste squeezed from the tube, 
and then things are giving way inside her chest, she can feel her 
ribs cracking and her lungs bursting under pressure. A river of 
bloody snot runs out her screaming nose as her neck arches back, 
trying to pull her body with it, but her body is being sucked 
into a black hole of power, it's not hers anymore, she can hear 
and feel the little pops and crackles inside her as her ribs 
splinter and snap like breadsticks, then her spine starts to go 
with a bone-grindingly dull ache that spreads a quick rushing 
numbness all the way to her twitching fingers and toes. She feels 
oddly disembodied, peacefully floating, then a sudden wave of hot 
pain races up and down her spinal column like a burst of high 
voltage and her back breaks like a sapling struck by lightning, 
as she bites down hard on the dying tongue inside her dry-shut 
mouth, coating her parched throat with gagging liquid. Her 
bladder gapes and she floods a pissy gush all over Anna's shorts, 
then her bowels convulse, spitting loose steaming shit out her 
ass like death stew.

Anna is panting, sweat running into her smiling eyes, her brown 
angelic face alight with ecstasy, her chin resting on Sarah's 
delicate white shoulder, the sick-sweet smell of sewer stink 
pricking her nostrils, then she unseals the fatal enclosure and 
steps back as Sarah falls in a mess of long lifeless limbs.

Paulina exhales with a deep satisfied sigh and lights two Kools, 
handing one to Nikki, whose eye is riveted to the shattered 
porcelain figurine in her viewfinder. "Nice piece a work, baby," 
says Paulina. "Totally salsa. You wanna cigarette?"

But Anna is bellowing again, all her muscles pumped big and 
tingling, her upper body hot and throbbing, blood-fat veins 
pulsing in her arms, her hips bucking in the air, her swollen 
clit rubbing like fire against the rough seam of her pee-soaked 
shorts, and she's coming, her fingers twisting at her stiff 
nipples, she's coming like a fucking bitch.

-30-