IX. RESURRECTION & REDEMPTION IN WAIALUA
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BURIED ALIVE IN THE PINEAPPLE FIELDS
BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE BY A DEMON'S KISS
How Kris Saved Holly From Herself
(Part Nine; Part One is HERE.)
Kris lit a match to show Holly her way, but the light blinded her after the absolute darkness of the moonless night, deep in the pineapple fields. She stumbled and walked straight into a post on the edge of a field, knocking herself cold. Kris picked her up and carried her to the hole he had been digging in the dark. He knew the spot well, having used it before to bury things before. Just things.
Kris got out his tiny flat LED flashlight and put it in his mouth, biting the on-button and turning his head toward Holly. Her loose dress was hiked up to her waist. Her fresh new panties shone with silvery glitter in the flashlight. Her pale white skin stood out against the darkness. Kris lifted her dress all the way up over her head, exposing Holly's chest. She didn't need a bra, and hadn't bought one. Her breasts were small and perfect, with large round pink nipples popping in the night chill of the pineapple fields.
Kris took out his knife and used it to caress Holly's nipples. They stood up all the way at the touch of the long sharp blade. He used the dull side of it to pull aside the crotch of her panties, revealing a small tuft of coppery hair, and delicate pink lips. He wanted to howl at the moon, and he did. He could feel the hair growing out all over him. His fingernails and toenails felt like claws. His teeth were like fangs. He might devour the beautiful young girl like a ravenous wolf, right here, right now. No one would ever know. No one would ever care. No one.
Kris put his knife back in his sheath and knelt down beside Holly. He pulled her dress over her head, and removed her panties. He licked her, enjoying the taste of her sweet young flesh. He licked his way down and slid his long thirsty tongue inside her. Her juices covered his tongue and the intensely female flavour made him moan. He licked his way across the bridge of sighs, and tasted her, still clean from her shower. Her upper thighs, inner and outer, knew his attentions next. She groaned softly, still unconscious from the self-inflicted blow to her head.
Kris picked up Holly and placed her in the hole he had reopened, having removed the former contents. She fit just right. He tossed a handful of dirt on her belly, and thought how easy it would be to just bury her here. No one would ever find her. He stood up and shone his light on her in the hole. She needed something, something was missing. He opened one of the strongboxes he had removed from the hole and took something out. It was a long heavy golden chain, with a large gold pendant. He placed it between her breasts, and regarded his handiwork. Perfect. Now to finish it.
Kris got his cheap little digital camera out of its' pouch on his belt. He turned it on and pointed it at Holly lying in the grave naked, with the big gold cross hanging between her breasts. He framed the picture and focused it in the light from his LED flashlight, then let it go out, snapping the picture. There were a brief brilliant flashes from the camera ten times, as Kris moved around the grave, shooting Holly's cold white body from different angles. Then he took a dozen close-ups of every part of her beautiful young corpse-like body, finishing with her perfect face. Katherine Hepburn at eighteen, lying naked in an open grave, with a monstrous crucifix on her chest. With a little Photoshopping, these pictures would be worth a fortune, if only to the Goth set and their perverse admirers.
Kris put away his camera. He took Holly's silvery panties out of his shirt pocket, sniffed them longingly, and slipped them back on her, lifting her thin body effortlessly. He put her dress back on and carried her back to the cab, brushing the dirt off her before placing her back in the front passenger's seat. He popped the trunk and put four strongboxes from the graveside into the boot. He quickly filled in the shallow grave and put the shovel in the trunk, slamming it shut. He brushed the dirt off himself, kicked his shoes against the tires, and got back in the car.
He started the car, and leaned over to gently kiss the sleeping beauty. Her saliva mixed with her own girl-juices in his mouth. It was ecstatic. Holly turned to him sleepily. "Are we there, yet?"
[ PART TEN copyright 2008 Cosa Nostradamus.]
.
.
IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM YOUR BLOGGERS:
SUPPORT OUR TROOPS: BRING THEM ALL HOME ALIVE, NOW!
BURIED ALIVE IN THE PINEAPPLE FIELDS
BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE BY A DEMON'S KISS
How Kris Saved Holly From Herself
(Part Nine; Part One is HERE.)
Kris lit a match to show Holly her way, but the light blinded her after the absolute darkness of the moonless night, deep in the pineapple fields. She stumbled and walked straight into a post on the edge of a field, knocking herself cold. Kris picked her up and carried her to the hole he had been digging in the dark. He knew the spot well, having used it before to bury things before. Just things.
Kris got out his tiny flat LED flashlight and put it in his mouth, biting the on-button and turning his head toward Holly. Her loose dress was hiked up to her waist. Her fresh new panties shone with silvery glitter in the flashlight. Her pale white skin stood out against the darkness. Kris lifted her dress all the way up over her head, exposing Holly's chest. She didn't need a bra, and hadn't bought one. Her breasts were small and perfect, with large round pink nipples popping in the night chill of the pineapple fields.
Kris took out his knife and used it to caress Holly's nipples. They stood up all the way at the touch of the long sharp blade. He used the dull side of it to pull aside the crotch of her panties, revealing a small tuft of coppery hair, and delicate pink lips. He wanted to howl at the moon, and he did. He could feel the hair growing out all over him. His fingernails and toenails felt like claws. His teeth were like fangs. He might devour the beautiful young girl like a ravenous wolf, right here, right now. No one would ever know. No one would ever care. No one.
Kris put his knife back in his sheath and knelt down beside Holly. He pulled her dress over her head, and removed her panties. He licked her, enjoying the taste of her sweet young flesh. He licked his way down and slid his long thirsty tongue inside her. Her juices covered his tongue and the intensely female flavour made him moan. He licked his way across the bridge of sighs, and tasted her, still clean from her shower. Her upper thighs, inner and outer, knew his attentions next. She groaned softly, still unconscious from the self-inflicted blow to her head.
Kris picked up Holly and placed her in the hole he had reopened, having removed the former contents. She fit just right. He tossed a handful of dirt on her belly, and thought how easy it would be to just bury her here. No one would ever find her. He stood up and shone his light on her in the hole. She needed something, something was missing. He opened one of the strongboxes he had removed from the hole and took something out. It was a long heavy golden chain, with a large gold pendant. He placed it between her breasts, and regarded his handiwork. Perfect. Now to finish it.
Kris got his cheap little digital camera out of its' pouch on his belt. He turned it on and pointed it at Holly lying in the grave naked, with the big gold cross hanging between her breasts. He framed the picture and focused it in the light from his LED flashlight, then let it go out, snapping the picture. There were a brief brilliant flashes from the camera ten times, as Kris moved around the grave, shooting Holly's cold white body from different angles. Then he took a dozen close-ups of every part of her beautiful young corpse-like body, finishing with her perfect face. Katherine Hepburn at eighteen, lying naked in an open grave, with a monstrous crucifix on her chest. With a little Photoshopping, these pictures would be worth a fortune, if only to the Goth set and their perverse admirers.
Kris put away his camera. He took Holly's silvery panties out of his shirt pocket, sniffed them longingly, and slipped them back on her, lifting her thin body effortlessly. He put her dress back on and carried her back to the cab, brushing the dirt off her before placing her back in the front passenger's seat. He popped the trunk and put four strongboxes from the graveside into the boot. He quickly filled in the shallow grave and put the shovel in the trunk, slamming it shut. He brushed the dirt off himself, kicked his shoes against the tires, and got back in the car.
He started the car, and leaned over to gently kiss the sleeping beauty. Her saliva mixed with her own girl-juices in his mouth. It was ecstatic. Holly turned to him sleepily. "Are we there, yet?"
[ PART TEN copyright 2008 Cosa Nostradamus.]
.
.
Labels: addict, blues, Chinatown, christmas, cocaine, crack, downtown, driver, hawaii, ho, holiday, Honolulu, prostitute, story, street, taxi, underage, Waikiki, whore, Xmas
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posted by Cosa Nostradamus @ 1/01/2009 12:03:00 AM
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