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plasters a ludicrous grimace across her face in compliance and they reach the near fence row.
    "Now. You must listen to me very carefully if you want to survive this day." He is snapping a pair of steel and teflon handcuffs on her and fixing some sort of chain to a nearby tree trunk as he speaks. "I will not hurt you badly unless you resist me, scream, try to attract attention, or otherwise irritate me in any way. If you do exactly as I say, you'll be allowed to go home soon. Nod your head and tell me if you understand."
    She nods again as a trained pony would paw the ground, with careful, methodical movements, and says in a dry hoarseness, "I—uh—understand."
    "Good. Now you're starting to cry. I do not want you crying. Stop." She cannot stem the flood and bursts into tears.
    WWWHHHHAAAAAPPPPP! She is slapped harder than she has ever been struck in her life. Smacked by a hand like a steel frying pan. It smashes her down to the ground and all but knocks her unconscious. She sees bright blue stars for an instant and then a shock wave of pain brings her back fully alert. She is crying openly now so he takes it down a peg and gentles her a bit.
    "I'm very sorry I had to do that but you have to act normally. I do not like crying. If you start crying again now, I'm going to hit you again and it will hurt you. You are crying now. You must stop, do you understand?"
    "Eh—I—uh—I'm sor—sorry."
    "Stop!" She wills herself to shut off the tears in a snuffling, sniffing back of the flow. She tries to breathe deeply and concentrate.
    "Do you know what I want you to do next?" He is peeling off his shirt and dropping his pants, which are as big as a large flag. She shakes her head no.
    "Get over here and suck it. Do it now." She tries to obey, trying to take the hideous thing in her mouth, begins to gag, and draws back instinctively, involuntarily, and she is in lots of pain again. He has those steel fingers in her long hair, which is knotted into a ball, and he pulls her forward onto him. He is stiffening and growing as he gets rougher with her and she can barely take him in her mouth fully.
    He rams his erect member back into her throat and she chokes on it but she can't get her head away to breathe and before she can stop her own actions she bites down reflexively.
    "You bit me!" He screams. Holding her hair in that left-handed vise, he pulls his dick out to its fullest length with his right hand, pushing back his lower fat roll as he does so and trying to see if she has done any visible damage to his already-shrinking penis.
    For a beat he is inert. Lifeless. Then his other persona emerges, springing like Frankenstein from out of whatever abiogenetic origin spawns living matter from nothingness. A backfist like a shotput rips through the air slamming into her face with the loud, resounding crack that is unmistakably bone. Her neck snaps from the mighty blow. He continues to twist her hair with his left hand as he begins masturbating into her inert, now-lifeless face.
    He jacks his shrunken penis back into a semblance of an erection and finally is able to pound off, shooting his semen into her face. He wipes himself off on the army blanket, then wraps her body in it, and stomps the package down into a slight declivitous spot in a bed of poison oak. He does this out of habit more than anything else as he could care less when or if the body is found.
    Making sure nobody is coming, he limps back down to the side of the road and retrieves his duffel bag from the ditch. He is slightly disgusted by what he considers poor behavior. He notices he has been acting more and more like a basket case lately. Allowing himself to run out of control uncharacteristically.
    A Ford pickup truck comes over the top of the hill, and full of his rage and waddling around with a sore penis, he hurls his duffel into the back of the Datsun and flags down the truck.
    "Say, friend, could you tell me where I can find the Frannis Scrace?" This is a slurred