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  Barbara said nothing for a while, examining her quarry. He was wearing dark trousers, she couldn’t see his shoes as the feet were under the table, a light polo neck top, and a faux leather jacket. He had a two day stubble, which he considered fashionable, she was sure, with hair that was short cut. He was in his mid-twenties, complexion somewhat darker than European, but she hadn’t worked out yet his country of origin. She deliberately hadn’t got too close to smell his breath, as she was quite fastidious about dental care, but she was quite sure there was some kind of animal male perfume coming from him. She wasn’t really a worldly-wise person at this stage, only familiar with close contact with middle-Eastern men through her college. All men she had known had been conventional white, and she was determined that this man was only going to get close to her to his detriment.

  ‘It’s quite tasty. The cheese isn’t too strong, and the salad dressing has a hint of garlic, but not too much.’ The sentence had been quite long enough for her, as she didn’t want to appear too eager too soon. However the conversation flowed more, until she raised her eyebrows as she continued reading the newspaper.

  ‘Excuse me, I’m not being rude, but I really want to finish the paper before I go home.’

  ‘No problem’ he replied, looking away again.

  Ten minutes later she had finished reading, folded the paper before placing in her bag, and said a not-too friendly ‘goodnight.’

  He smiled back, saying ‘maybe I’ll see you in here again. I’m in most nights.’

  She smiled in return. ‘Maybe you will.’

  Barbara returned to her parked car, not wanting him to realise that she had been parked so close to his front door, driving back home five roads away. Mother was still up, so Barbara had to engage in a conversation about her new friend. Next night found Barbara back in the Wagon and Horses, having walked there as she preferred to avoid drinking and driving if at all possible,sitting at the same table, with a glass of wine but no food, Daily Mail open in front of her, when she glanced up to see him standing in front of her.

  ‘May I refresh your wine glass?’

  ‘Oh, it’s you again. Yes, okay, thanks, a cold Chardonnay.’

  He returned from the bar, glass of wine that he set down in front of her, and a bottle of Becks beer for himself, no glass, as he was drinking straight from the neck. She had deliberately dressed even more soberly than the previous evening, wanting to give the impression of a demure young Englishwoman, non-threatening, not giving out any welcoming signals, however none that would likely rebuff either. He was dressed in the same fashion, but an open neck shirt instead of the polo neck one of last night. It was the same jacket, and there had been no shave, the stubble was even more designer.

  The conversation flowed, he bought dinner, which surprised Barbara, and was the perfect gentlemen trying to impress a young lady for the first time. The daft thing was that she actually found him attractive, and under other circumstances would have allowed matters to progress further, but Barbara had a different outcome in mind. She deliberately avoided giving any direct information about herself, leaving just after nine thirty, having consumed three glasses of wine. The evening had gone exactly as she wished.

  ‘See you tomorrow?’ he asked.

  ‘Maybe. I’m not too sure.’

  She deliberately stayed home the following two nights, as she wanted him to remain keen. When she entered the Wagon and Horses the next night, he was there waiting, but wasn’t alone. There was another young man with him, same middle-Eastern appearance, so she smiled hello as she passed by on her way to an empty table.

  He looked up. ‘Would you care to join us?’

  ‘No thanks, you are in company, and I’m happy to sit and read my paper.’

  ‘No, honestly, Tracy, my brother was just going, he was only keeping me company in case you weren’t able to come in. You were going, weren’t you’ he said to his brother.

  ‘Of course, delighted to meet you’ he said, taking Barbara’s hand, then leaving.

  They spent that evening in the same way, enjoying the company, but with Barbara still dressing down her appearance.

  ‘I’m not trying to be personal, Tracy, but I can’t help saying that your clothing doesn’t do you justice. We’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I have come to see you as a very attractive woman, and I am sure that you can wear more fashionable clothing. Where do you buy your tops, for example?’

  ‘At charity shops, if you must know. They represent very good value for money, and with my student money I can’t afford anything better.’

  ‘Yes, but Tracy, you must realise that the charity shops also sell some really lovely clothing.’

  ‘Look, you’re really getting personal here. I am quite comfortable with myself, and don’t need to take the advice of some saddo who hasn’t matured sufficiently to shave every day. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off.’

  Moussa put his hand on hers. ‘Hey, cool down, okay, I was only trying to give you some advice. You are such a beautiful chick, I just thought, you know, that I might be able to help. Is all, and real sorry if I hurt your sensitive feelings. Can we start again. Please?’

  Appearing slightly appeased, she sat down again. ‘This is from a man who wears the same jacket every day, and thinks that it’s cool to wear loafers without socks. Please, it is SO unhygienic.’

  ‘Hey, babe, l’ve already apologised, let’s cool it, shall we? Now, your usual wine?’ He didn’t wait for a reply, went to the bar, returning very quickly. ‘So, do you fancy staying here all evening, or going to a club? My cousin is the manager of one not that far away, and he’ll get us into the VIP area.’

  ‘Allright, but best behaviour time from you, boyo.’

  They finished their drinks, and got in a taxi for the journey. This was panning out exactly as she wanted, as she had her own idea how the evening was going to end. They went to the nightclub, and had a really good time. Barbara appreciated how he was a good host, with nothing too much trouble. As good as his word, they soon found themselves admitted to the VIP area, and she sat next to a local footballer and his partner. Unfortunately there was not much conversation, as the girl was particularly thick, but Moussa was talking deeply to the player about the club, and its latest signings. Others soon joined them, making the evening far more interesting, with superb music and atmosphere. People kept on looking at Barbara to see if she was someone famous, sitting in the VIP area. She deliberately tried to appear as if she was in the background, not wanting anyone to notice her too much. Very little make-up, not at all glamorous, not chatting too animatedly, no strong opinions, a good little girl grateful for the attention of a gorgeous man like Moussa. Still answering to the name of Tracy, she was content to maintain this personality for as long as it took.

  She stayed on soft drinks, appreciating the fact that Moussa respected this, not trying to add any alcohol surreptitiously. By two in the morning she was ready to go, and had no qualms about getting into the taxi with him. She acquiesced when he suggested that they return to his flat, so in the back of the taxi she was not surprised when he placed his arm round the back of her neck so she could snuggle in, thereby making it easier for him to start kissing her. She let him, but kept her teeth firmly together when he attempted to enter his tongue into her mouth. No, only so far, just to let him be slightly encouraged. He didn’t persist, and she was quite pleased that his spare hand didn’t try to fondle her as they were close in the back seat. When he spoke to her during the journey all she did was whisper in reply, still wearing her demure clothing that had seemed somewhat incongruous in the nightclub.

  Within a few minutes they were back at his flat, quietly walking up the main staircase so they didn’t disturb anyone attempting to sleep. As soon as they were in the door Barbara threw her jacket on the floor, going on tiptoe to kiss him, and said ‘which way to the
bedroom?’

  Moussa had a big smile on his face as he took her hand, guiding her to the six foot double bed waiting for them both. It had a frame at both the head and foot, and a big black duvet. She still had her bag with her, which she placed at the foot of the bed. Saying nothing, she took his clothes off the top part of his body, deliberately mussing his hair as she did so, all the time looking at him with as much lust as she could manage. Very, very, slowly, she then opened his trousers zip, being delighted to see his huge prick bouncing out from its containment. Still saying nothing, she used both hands to massage it up and down, very gently, so it gained maximum erection. He had been circumcised, which she was very pleased to see, because with what she had in mind she wanted him to be as clean as possible. He was in a state of great excitement, and she didn’t have to be an expert at wanking to know that he wasn’t far off coming. That was excellent. Faster and faster went her hands, fingers massaging, until he couldn’t stop himself, coming all over her hands. She found a convenient box of tissues, wiping first herself, then him, so they were both nice and clean.

  ‘That was good,’ said Barbara.

  ‘Hmmm,’ he replied with a content smile. ‘What else do you have in mind?’

  She had a minx-ish look. ‘Well, I was rather hoping that you would ask that. I have been thinking about this for some time, ever since we first met in fact, and really looking forward to this evening. Underneath this clothing I’ve got some rather kinky underwear.’

  ‘Really, tell me more.’

  ‘No, I’ll not tell you, I’ll show you. Just stand there handsome while I give you a proper floor show.’ She then very slowly took off her top, revealing a black leather bra. With holes for the nipples, which were by now completely erect. Still very slowly, she took off her lower clothing, and he could see that she was wearing nothing except for black, leather knickers. With gold studs. She took his right hand, placing it between her legs, so he could feel her wet pussy hole. There was a gap in the crotch so she wouldn’t have to remove them when he was finally allowed to fuck her. He could feel his erection returning.

  ‘But that’s not all. The first time you fuck me’ she said the word fuck very slowly, running her tongue round her lips ‘yes, fuck me, I want you on your back, naked, on that lovely big bed. I want your big prick up and ready, standing to attention for me, so you don’t have to do a thing, just wanting, and waiting, for me to lower myself down, very slowly, onto you. Then I will ride up and down, with my cunt producing so much juice that your prick will be drowned. I’ll fuck you till you are begging to come again, but I won’t let you, because I want to come first, as I’ll have been the one doing all the work. All you’ll be doing is lying there, as I’m riding up and down on you.’

  Moussa stood there, listening to every word, longing for the proceedings to start.

  ‘And there’s an icing on the cake. I want you to wear these.’ She produced four pairs of handcuffs. ‘One on each arm and foot, and there’s only one key.’ She produced the key, which she slipped in the cup over her right breast, making the end protrude alongside her still erect nipple. Before he had the chance to demur, she took his right hand and led him to the bed. Quick as a flash, the right wrist was manacled to the bed, then the left, and then both legs. She still had the sexy, longing look, picking up the bag from the foot of the bed. ‘And there’s an even better clincher that I KNOW you’ll appreciate. From her bag she took some black industrial masking tape, quickly placing it over his mouth. His eyes were wide open in horror. What the fuck had he let himself in for?

  Barbara then took out some more tape, just to make sure that he couldn’t make a noise, as she then took out from her bag a Stanley knife, one of the sharpest possible. She looked down to see that his erection had quickly disappeared. ‘So what’ she thought. Before he had the chance to writhe and buck away with one slice she had cut off his prick.

  ‘You won’t be raping anyone else,’ she muttered. Immediately his blood started flowing, but she was prepared for this, cutting off some more masking tape and quickly stopping the flow of blood. Then shock cut in, and he fainted. But he wasn’t dead. Not yet.

  While he was out Barbara removed the tape from his mouth, placing his prick in it. Then she used more tape, sealing the prick there for ever. She knew that even though she had just done something awful, she wasn’t a sadist, so to put him out for ever without the pain of coming round to hurt from his indignity and injuries Barbara killed him with one slash across the throat, standing back so as little as possible went onto her almost naked body. She then took the bag into the bathroom, washing herself down thoroughly, leaving the hot water running for a couple of minutes. Exiting the bathroom, now completely clean, she used the masking tape on all surfaces she had touched, removing all traces. The last thing she did was get dressed again, putting on gloves so she could wipe the door handles. Quietly she exited the house, returning home with a very satisfied feeling. One less rapist would be walking the streets tonight. Girls could sleep safer.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Barbara very carefully listened to the local news, assiduously reading the papers as well. The case gained a lot of national publicity, mainly because of the vigilante angle. Nothing was ever mentioned about the prick in the mouth, just that his body had been mutilated. It was obvious that the police had investigated thoroughly, especially the taxi and the night club. They had even found the connection with the Wagon and Horses, because the first taxi had collected them from there. No-one could give an accurate description of the mystery woman who was with him, and a lot of people had been in both taxis in the meantime so it was impossible to trace any forensic evidence back to her. Likewise back at the flat, as she had been very careful not to leave any traces. Previously she had never been into the pub, so she knew that apart from a fluke she was in the clear there, and the footballer’s girlfriend had been so thick that she couldn’t possibly remember anything to identify Barbara. There was only one potential complication, which was her victim’s brother, but as they had only met briefly, she was quite sure that unless there was a chance encounter she had also covered herself here. All in all, a very satisfactory outcome. Where she had been amazed was in her coolness. And the fact that she had enjoyed what she had done. She wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the next occasion, because another time there most surely would be, but she was not repulsed by her actions. It had been a real sexual turn-on, dressing up for him, making him come in her hand, all the time knowing that it was going to be the last thing that he ever did. Control was her aphrodisiac. She wasn’t complacent, but after a couple of months she knew that the police’s enthusiasm to find the killer of a rapist had waned so she was in the clear. Until she was on the bus one afternoon and a middle-aged man came and sat next to her. She didn’t bother looking at him, continuing staring out the window. After a couple of stops she realised that he was staring at her.

  ‘Stop staring, or I’ll go and sit somewhere else.’

  ‘That might not be such a wise thing to do, bearing in mind that I own the house where a man was murdered.’

  Barbara was stunned.

  ‘Shall we get off at the next stop? I could do with a cup of coffee, and I think you could too. You look like you’ve just had a nasty shock.’

  ‘You can get off if you like, I’m continuing to my stop.’

  ‘Fine by me, Barbara, or should I say Tracy, I know where you live, so we can continue this conversation another time. Privately of course, as I am sure that you wouldn’t really like anyone else joining in.’ The man rang the bell, got off the bus, leaving Barbara sitting there stunned. She spent the rest of the journey thinking, and by the time she was at her front door she realised that there might be something occurring that could potentially be to her advantage.

  Firstly, she knew where the man lived. He had told her. Second, he had done nothing with the police, because if he had, then she wouldn
’t have been sitting on the bus. Third, he must want something, couldn’t be money, she didn’t have any as she was only still a student, so until she could work out what he wanted, there was nothing more she could do. However, he knew where she lived. Potential stalemate until she knew more. Nothing to be gained by worrying, so she continued with her daily life as if nothing had occurred. Three days later he was on the same bus.

  ‘Wondered how long it would be,’ she said. ‘I’m getting off at the next stop for coffee. You can join me if you like.’

  He had an intelligent smile as he replied ‘that’s what I like about you. Cool, not bothered, waiting to hear what I have to say before taking your next course of action. Intelligent, because you have already worked out that there is something occurring that’s potentially to your advantage. I’m ready for a coffee, and maybe even a nice cake.’

  He took her right arm as they got off the bus, guiding her quite unnecessarily to a Cafe Nero.

  ‘What’ll it be?’ he asked.

  ‘Black regular Americano, with a Danish.’

  ‘There’s a table over there’, he pointed, joining the queue. She sat patiently waiting his return, intrigued, with a little grin on her face. She thought that she was going to enjoy this, and wasn’t disappointed. They just spoke of anodyne things while they ate their pastries, and when they had wiped their mouths, he said

  ‘Lovely to meet you at last Barbara. Let me say first how much I admired your handiwork. Excellent touch, putting his prick in his mouth, and you must be genuinely competent because after all this time the police are no closer to catching you now than they were then.’

  She saw no point in trying to deny anything. ‘Thanks, but what I would like to know is, I am quite sure that you must have seen me at the house that night, but how did you find me, and what proposition do you have for me?’

  ‘That’s what I like, an intelligent lady getting to the point. I won’t insult your intelligence, as I suspect that we will be working together for quite a few years. My real name is Michael Spencer, but most people in my professional circle know me as Busy Mick. That’s because I make it my business to know what’s going on. That’s how I found you, because initially I admired what you had done, then as I discovered more, I thought that I had a potential gem here, someone who was good at what they did, not getting caught, and could possibly assist me in my business.’