One in 3
A predator picks up a girl, and gets more than he bargained for…
“I’ll see all yall later,” I said goodbye to my friends, after school, and looked back. Before I got to the car, they turned the corner. So, they wouldn’t see what I was doing, I grabbed the door handle, but it was locked.
“What do you want?” He leaned over, but he didn’t roll down the window.
“Uh, let me in.” I didn’t even have to lean over, “I just want to talk.” He finally unlocked the door, so i could get in. “Nice car,” truck, or whatever.
A Geo Tracker, it still had the old Geo logo, but I had to look it up. It’s basically a Suzuki, but they also called it a Sidekick, GMC, or Chevy, it had to be older than I am. The Geo company went out of business in the 90s.
Not much of a back seat.
“Uh,” he looked confused, “Can I give you a ride somewhere?” Started the engine, and put it in drive, to pull off. Just outside the school zone.
“So, what brings you to San Angelo?” Nebraska plates. “Here to see the bull statues, or hook up with some girl, from the internet?”
“What are you talking about?” He signaled for a turn. “Is there someplace I can drop you off?”
“Oh, come on. You always hang out after school, but you never pick anyone up. You’re never there in the morning, and how old are you?”
“Well, what are you doing, hanging around the high school, with teenagers? Is one of them your sister?”
“Uh! No, I’m sixteen. I go to school there, so of course all of my friends go there too. I know, I look young, but we’re all the same age.” I nodded.
“Really, you must be a late bloomer.”
“You’re not a serial killer, are you? I read somewhere that one in 3 stranger abductions kills the girl in the first hour.”
“What is this?”
“Uh! Come on, man.”
“You really got in my car, for sex?”
“I don’t know? I’m sure you hang out to look at young girls, how old are you, anyway?” I got my wallet out of my purse. “This thing’s got 4 wheel drive, so why don’t we go out of town? Someplace nice, where we can talk, and maybe get out of the car. Go for a walk… I don’t know about sex, maybe. If you’re good.”
“No, I’m not a serial killer.” A little late now, he already had me in his car, and it was a stupid question to ask in the first place. Even if he was.
“See?” I got out my driver’s licence. “So, how old are you?” At a light, so he could take it, and flip it over. “I don’t have a car, my folks couldn’t afford it.” I looked up, “It’s green.” Took my ID back so he could turn across traffic.
“Twenty three.” He nodded, and shrugged. “Look, I never did anything like this, before. You have to believe me.”
“No, but you thought about it. Come on, man. Of course, you never got lucky enough for a young looking girl to get in your car.”
“What’s with that, anyway?”
“Huh!” I rolled my eyes, again. “Honestly? I don’t know, for one thing, I guess I was a little curious, about you. It’s a little mysterious, seeing you practically every other day, and not knowing anything about you. Also, 1-in-3 girls reports sexual abuse, before they turn 18. I don’t know, it’s probably more of a coincidence than a correlation, but that’s just the reported ones. Huh, I guess if they’re killed in the first hour, they don’t get a chance to report it. You think that’s why they do it?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a kidnapper, either. Huh, Megan Amber.”
“Hah, yeah. I don’t guess my parents were thinking about that, when they named me. I didn’t see you on the Sex Offender Registry.”
“I told you, I’m not a sex offender.”
“Well, you said serial killer, or a kidnapper, but I thought maybe it was just because you’re from Nebraska.”
“I’m not from Nebraska. Yeah, the truck is, but the plates just haven’t expired yet.”
“Well, I guess I just always wondered, what makes a guy do something like that. Like hang around high schools, long after they’re out of school, are you in college?”
“Took some night classes.” He shrugged. “Got my GED.”
I nodded. “I guess you don’t even know why you do it.” Shook my head, “At least you don’t flash them, or beat off right out there in public, but you can’t tell me it’s not sexual.”
“Huh, all right. I guess, maybe it’s nostalgia.”
“So, you did go to Lake View.” I looked around, “You’re not going to Fisher lake?”
“Why not? I though you wanted to walk, and talk.”
“Yeah, but think about it, man!” I shook my head, “I guess you really never did anything like this before. It’s practically summer, which means it’s going to be crowded. You’re probably not even going to find a place to park, let alone anywhere where we won’t be seen together. You really want to be seen with me?”
“No, I guess you’re right. That was a bad idea. So, you’re a virgin?”
“Uh!” Charmer. “Are you circumcised? it’s the same thing, only the difference is they cut one off when you’re young, and the other one they save. Like a freshness seal, as if girls are a bottle of pills. Do not open until your wedding night.” I changed the subject. “You really never take this out off-roading? What’s the point of buying a 4×4, if you don’t even know anywhere to drive it off-road.” I looked back at my bookbag, still on the back seat. If that’s what you want to call a back seat. “It sure isn’t to pick up the soccer team for practice.”
“I don’t know, I like the ride height. Everybody drives pickup trucks anyway, but I don’t need a full sized pickup. At least I can see over the hoods, but it’s compact enough to drive it, and fit it in a parking space.”
Well, that’s 1 mystery solved. I nodded, but the conversation just stalled, for a moment. “I don’t like uncomfortable silences, so why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”
He’s shy, I get that. “Well, I guess we have a while, while I look for a spot to get out. Go for a walk…”
I nodded, waiting for him to say something.
“Not much to tell, I guess. I don’t live at home, I moved out, and I have a job working at H.E.B.”
“No, I work in the back.”
I laughed, “Stocker.”
“I’m not a stalker!”
“No, I mean you stock the shelves? S. T. O. C. K. Stocker.”
“Oh yeah.” He shrugged, “I guess, but they don’t call it that.”
“So, how come they don’t let you work up front, with all the people?”
“Huh!” he sighed, “Well, I don’t guess it would be too hard to believe that some people find me a little creepy.”
“No, you don’t say!” We both laughed, but he more nervously then me. “Huhhhn! I guess that I also don’t really have a choice in the kinds of guys, who’ll talk to me. You know, the way I look? If I had a problem with creepy guys, then. Well, let’s just say that the boys in high school, they don’t pay me much attention, because I look a little young to be a freshman. Let alone a junior.”
“Hold up.” He pulled up at the side of the road, and parked it. Pulled off his seatbelt, “I’m gonna go ask for directions.” He got out, and I looked around. No Garmin, let alone a GPS mounted in the dash. Old fashioned tape player, with an adapter plugged into his phone, USB in the cigarette lighter, no butts in the ash tray, but it’s locked.
He came back, so I dropped it. “I don’t guess you can look up offroad tracks on google Maps?”
He shook his head, like I wasn’t snooping. He’s not getting out his ID so I can card him, get his name, maybe his address. Unless it’s as out of date as his Nebraska license plate.
“Just missed it,” he turned around, and went back the other way. I looked back at the old Mexican couple selling produce on the side of the road.
[Grape Creek] Down [Farm to Market Road]
“Huh!” I was starting to feel a little excited. It was starting to look like this might actually happen, and I didn’t really lie. Yeah, I tend to catch the eye of creepy guys, but I also like to hate them? They fascinate me, the greatest mystery in life is why some guys are bad, and others are good, but we’re not talking about middle school smoking, or shoplifting here.
We’re talking about a sex offender, and it’s hard to believe that he hasn’t been caught, yet. I mean, hanging around after school, in this teal 4×4. If he’d thought about using it for stalking school girls at his old school, then he would have, well. Probably just driven a Texas truck, but it doesn’t look like a Kidnapper’s truck. Nor a flasher’s, but sex offenders don’t try to look like sex offender’s. Nor serial killers, you ever hear that, you look like a serial killer?
Well, if they looked like serial killers, then the cops would go “Hey look, a serial killer!” and pick them up! No, it’s not about being old, fat, and bald with a neckbeard. Wearing a hat and a trenchcoat with a popped collar.
He acts like a sex offender. He looks creepy, because he looks out of the corner of his eye. Checking you out, without trying to look like he’s checking you out. I mean, dirty looks. He doesn’t look dirty, he’s shifty eyed, and he avoids eye contact, but even driving, he tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t keep them off my chest. The seat-belt tight across my top, and the little bumps that make me look even more like a middle school girl than I would if I was just flat.
Yeah, I guess I was a late bloomer, like he said. I didn’t even start growing my nipples until freshman year, but i like that, now. I like this kind of attention, from creepy guys like him, because I know that I don’t have to worry about hurting his feelings. No remorse, no regrets, I can do whatever I want to to him, because he deserves it, but there’s no answer to this mystery.
Why do they do it? Because they can’t help it, they want little girls, and I look enough like one that I can get in their car, no questions asked. Okay, he asked, what this was about, but only because he couldn’t believe his luck. Girls don’t just walk up to creepy guys’ cars, and get in. He had the doors locked, and this isn’t one of those that locks the doors for you when you start it up.
Was that a Geo? I think so, only the little hatchback. The Geo Storm, not the little 4×4.
“Here,” he pulled up to a billboard, then turned on a dirt road behind it. “I think this is the one.” No fences, usually there’s at least 3 strings of barbed wire out here, but this isn’t exactly the hill country. It’s scrub, so you have to go back quite a ways to get far enough from the road.  I remember from some sign, somewhere, a ways back.
“Are you all right?”
“You’re almost hyperventilating, I can slow down.”
“No, I’m just excited!” I even squealed, and knocked my wrists together, to show it, “It’s finally happening!”
“Huh, yeah. I can hardly believe it, neither.” I looked back, once we started heading down in a dip.
“That’s far enough.” i pulled the seat belt, and the door lock at the same time, to cover the click. “Huh!” Went right for his leg, and crossed mine. Feeling up to his groin, his balls in the crotch, and trying to find the dick, until it hardened enough to pinch it through the fabric, and turn it up.
Of course, he went right for my top, pulled it up, and stuck his fingers in my bra. Not even A cups, practically a training bra, but I let go of his boner to unhook it in front. “Huh, these seats lean back?” I turned my knees, to feel under mine, and pull the handle. Scoot it forward, then it unhooked, and dropped me, with a squeal of surprise!
“Yeah.” He leaned his back too, and turned over on his shoulder. Feeling up my panting tummy, to squeeze what little titty I had, and pinch the nipple. The red hot swollen sensitive nipple, but he didn’t try to kiss me. He kept his eyes open, and on what he was doing, so i had to unzip his fly for him.
“How bout a hand job?”
“For a finger bang?” He felt down to my hip. I picked up his hand, and put it back on my chest.
“Maybe in a minute, I’m not ready yet, let me get hot and wet first.” I dug my fingers back in his fly, and pulled the flap out of the way to get in his underwear. Pinching it, and pulling it out.
“You suck dick?”
I nodded, grinning at the best question he could have asked. “Yeah,” I let go, “Let me get out a rubber.” Sat up with my purse, and dug inside it with both hands to grab the rolls of nickles in the bottom.
It’s awkward in here. Even with the seats down, but I just had to look over to take aim. Break his nose with my elbows, and finally uncross my legs to bring the roll of nickles down on his forehead.
He let out a “Gah!” but then the fist-load popped out of my grip. I knew I should have taped them, but that would just make them look like a weapon, if they ever searched me. At school, they’re looking for semi-automatics, not money in the bottom of my purse, but I could just swing it like a ball, and chain.
I have 2 of them, though. So, I switched hands, to beat him unconscious without breaking my knuckles. “Gsh!”
Finally, he stopped trying to block, and just let his arms fall down, limp. He still had a hardon, sticking out of his pants, so I switched hands again, and pulled the zipper up to saw into the sides, and pinch some skin in the bottom, but even that didn’t wake him up.
“Huh!” Not even electric locks, cheap ass 4×4, I had to reach over him to open up the door, then push him out with a grunt. “Uh!” He tumbled onto the ground, so I climbed over, and got out. Unbuckling my thin plastic belt, and slipping it out to put the end through the buckle again.
Picking his head up, to slip the noose over it, I clamped it in between my legs, and wrapped the slack around both hands to hall up. “UHN!” As hard as I could, but that forced the back of his head, and neck hard into my crotch. “Huh, phfuch! Huh!”
i didn’t think of that. Honestly, i just wanted to fuck off, and die. Leave me, and my friends alone, but somehow that groping turned me on?
He woke up, and started struggling, which just made that ride even harder.
“Yeah, fight it. Try to fight it, ah fuck yeah!” He tried to get his arms under him, and started kicking. Slapping at my feet, and trying to pull me off by the pants. “Huh fugh! I think I’m gonna cum?” I can’t believe it, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, even grunt, let alone scream. I wish I knew where we were, let alone if anyone else was around, so I could risk letting him scream, but he can’t fight it. Not in this position, and now I feel the power. The control, and the funniest thing, I even started laughing.
You know, that statistically, strangulations are performed by a big strong man on a smaller victim? It takes strength to overpower somebody, and I wish I could feel his pulse, but my hands are too small. I’d probably have to hold him down, and facing me, he could get his arms up to scratch his face.
It’s not like I planned it, at all. I just had to have something on me to defend myself, especially if I attracted the attention of a pedophile, or a child molester, but I hate looking like such a child. A little girl, knowing that it’s not my age, or my face, not even my body that they’re attracted to.
It’s because I’m weak, and I weigh like 87lbs on an empty stomach, but that’s enough to hold him down, even fighting for his life with his head trapped between my legs, and his arms held down so he can’t even get his elbows under him.
“Huh!” I was so close, but wouldn’t you know it. He finished before me. No more struggles to stimulate me, sexually. All I could do is hold on, and catch my breath. My fists wrapped tight in the 1″ belt, I should have worn a thicker one, I have that leather one that’s at least an inch and a half, but when I got up this morning, I just wanted to tighten my waist, so it looks like I have more hips. Maybe stretch the back of my pants tighter over my butt. I have a pretty nice ass, if anyone could be bothered to check, but it’s hard to breathe with my hands stuck in my tummy like this, so I have to roll off.
I didn’t get off, did I? I didn’t just have an orgasm, and miss it, no. This feels even better than that. “Better then sex, huh!”
I didn’t wake up this morning, and think what belt to wear, to strangle somebody. A man, a full grown man, 23 years of life, and then it was over, but not in a snap. He fought back, and he lost.
I won, and now I can’t stop laughing! “You didn’t ask me if I was a serial killer, nihnahuh!”
Of course not, I wasn’t lying when I said that i’d never done this before, but now that I know how it feels.
“Huh, now I know why they do it.”
I’m going to have to do it over, and over again, now that I know how to. I can’t wait to see what they say about it when it comes on the news, and now I wonder if he’s got a gas tank?
I’ve got 4 bucks, and he’s got a few bills in his wallet. I’m going to have to drive back, maybe I can risk hitching back in, but if I have to kill twice in the same day.
“Huh!” Has it even been an hour since he picked me up? I think kidnappers, well most child abductors kill their victims so quickly to keep them from telling the cops. Anything, that might lead back to them, or it might just be an impulsive crime of passion. I can sympathise with that, but no need to try to wrestle him back into the truck.
“Huh!” [Davis, W. Klyde.] Nebraska license, McCook address. I never did find out what he was doing in San Angelo, because he lied about that, of course.
I wonder if his middle name is Wayne?
#Abuse #Reluctance #Teen