Rape Machine

by Randi Masters

  But then she'd remembered the five hundred dollars he'd given her to suck his cock that third time in the motel. He had made it a kind of bet, a crazy thing to do, but it showed he had so damned much money, he didn't care what he did with it. He'd sounded drunk over the phone and he said he'd bought a boat. She'd decided there might be some big money in it if she came and now she was damned glad she'd come ... Five thousand and twenty dollars was a hell of a lot of money. But the stuff about the TV was hard to believe. She went to the TV and looked at it closely. It seemed no different than any other TV, but Pawelski had said it was a special set ó made by a man who'd worked on the subliminal advertising they'd outlawed from television broadcasting ó a man who'd studied hypnotism all his life.

  She took the gun from the bed and pointed it at his head. Would she be able to kill him ? Hell, yes. It'd be goddamned easy and besides, she'd have to kill him if she took the five thousand and twenty dollars. If she didn't kill him, he'd find her sooner or later and tear her apart with those huge hands. She took the pillow from the bed and tore a hole in it. She placed the gun inside the pillow and held the pillow against his head. It would work. She knew it'd work. All she had to do was wait for one of those trains to pass by ó with all that noise, with the gun in the pillow, nobody'd hear the shot.

  Was he telling the truth when he said all that about the TV? She looked at the TV doubtfully. He'd been so drunk last night, so stinking drunk, not making sense half the time, it was hard to know how much had been the truth and how much had been just drunk-jabbering. Part of what he said must be the truth because she had turned the TV toward him and pushed the button in the back. She had turned the TV off a few moments later, but he had looked at the screen before she turned it off and ever since then he'd just sat there with that funny look on his face as if he was hypnotized. So ... the TV could hypnotize a person as he'd said. But could it make a person do anything? She experimented as she had before. "Move your right arm."

  He did.

  "Move your left arm."

  He did.

  It occurred to her there was a much more interesting way to check the strength of the hypnosis. She said, "Touch your cock."

  He did.

  "Squeeze your cock."

  She watched with fascination as his huge hand wrapped around his penis. She said, "Stand up and jerk off."

  Her heart beat faster as he obeyed ó standing up and sliding his curled hand up and down the length of his prick. She watched as it hardened and lengthened, swelled, and suddenly spat a stream of white sperm.

  He had told the truth about the TV! It could make a person do anything!

  A warmness burst deep inside her as she realized all the things she could make him do. She felt her nipples harden, her throat suddenly tight, her pulse pounding. He had made her suck his cock and swallow his come three times. It had been his way of humbling her. Now she had the chance to humble him!

  Without actually planning it, she went to where he stood and grabbed his limp cock, jerking on it wildly until it became hard again. She stared into his blank eyes, then down at his cock in her hand, grunting as she clenched her teeth and jerked on it, only then realizing what she was doing. She realized vaguely that it was a kind of revenge ó standing there and jerking him off. Hundreds of men had shot their come into her cunt and into her mouth. Now, finally, she was having a revenge, jerking a man off and shooting his come into the air! She laughed as her hand brought a long stream of come from his stiff cock ó a long stream that spurted past her hip and splatted on the floor behind her. She turned to look at the white puddle and then ordered him to kneel before her. After he knelt, she held her cunt lips apart and ordered him to suck her cunt and lick her clit. She shuddered at the touch of his lips and probing tongue. She had an orgasm almost immediately but ordered him to keep on licking her cunt. Her second orgasm came a few minutes later and her legs felt weak but she ordered him to keep licking and to lick faster. His tongue slid faster and faster against her clit, bringing it to life again, making it tingle and quiver and drawing the third wet wonderful burst from deep inside her body. In those last moments before she gushed against his face, he was grunting with his effort and sounded like a pig as he licked and sucked her cunt.

  The third shattering orgasm numbed her mind and body. She felt frozen in a state of complete joy and satisfaction. She heard the distant roar of another train and, as a shadowy image in a pleasant dream, she stepped back, removing her cunt from his mouth and holding the gun and the pillow against his head.

  She had to kill him and it would be more than easy, it would be a pleasure.

  She smiled as the roar of the train grew louder. Everything he said about the TV was true! It must be the best hypnosis machine in the world! It was hers now, and she could have any man in the world, have the most handsome men in the world down on their knees, licking her cunt!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "Glad to meet you, lieutenant. Glad to meet you, Mr. Vaughn. Sorry ...

  You're too late."

  "Too late for what?" Sid asked.

  "We got the description of the hypnotist over the teletype. Jim Murphy ... one of our patrolmen ... started checking motels around here. One of the motel managers remembered seeing a man who fitted the description. Murphy called me. I told him to keep an eye on the man and I'd be there fast as I could. I got two other men but when we got there it was all over."

  "What happened?"

  "Murphy was waiting outside the room the suspect was staying in. The manager had noticed a blonde going in there. Murphy heard a shot while he was waiting for me. He thought the man had shot the blonde. The shot came right when a train went by the motel. Murphy shot the lock off the door, went in.

  Murphy got a hell of a surprise. Says he never saw anything like it before ... hopes he never sees anything like it again. The blonde had held a gun against Pawelski's head and blew ó "

  "The suspect's name is Pawelski ?"

  "Carl Pawelski. The blonde had held a gun against Pawelski's head and blew his brains all over the room. When Murphy went in, the blonde tried to blow Murphy's brains outa his head too but took a chunk outa one of his ears instead. Murphy shot low ... didn't want to kill her. The bullet went through her stomach, hit her spine. They were both naked as jaybirds ...

  Pawelski and the blonde. They musta been screwing, the blonde saw how much money he had, decided to take it all. Want to see our collection ?"

  "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Sid said.

  Clark watched numbly as the sheriff nodded at the morgue attendant and the attendant pulled the sheet away from one of the corpses.

  "Elsinger," the sheriff said. "Katherine Elsinger. Autopsy showed Pawelski had some fun with her before he dumped her in the bay."

  The attendant restored the sheet over the dead woman's body, turned to the next slab, and pulled the sheet aside.

  "Carl Pawelski. Fits the description to a T. See the scratches on his face?

  The Elsinger girl did that. Autopsy proves it from skin under her fingernails. We found bloodstains on his boat. Haven't checked it yet but I'll bet you anything it's the Elsinger girl's blood. If Pawelski wasn't already dead, we'd be able to hang him."

  The attendant restored the sheet over the dead man's body, turned to the next slab and pulled the sheet aside.

  "Not bad, huh?"

  "Who is she?"

  "Connie Cooper, a whore from Trenton."

  "Quite a collection," Sid said grimly.

  "Eye witness against her," the sheriff said. "Murphy caught her holding the gun a minute after she fired the shot that killed Pawelski. If she wasn't already dead, we'd be able to hang her. Want to see the motel where it happened?"

  "And Pawelski's boat," Sid said.

  Outside the Chesapeake City Morgue, Sid and Clark followed the sheriff to the car parked at the curb. Clark's mind was still filled with the image of the blonde woman's corpse ... the beautifully shaped
body so white and cold with the hole in the center of her stomach ...

  "See how police work is?" Sid mumbled. "A lot of footwork, dull routines, dead-ends everywhere. Sometimes you turn a corner and there it is right in front of you. Sometimes you turn another corner and find someone else has done all your work."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  When Clark stepped into the cabin, he was startled by the strong mixture of odors ó the odor of beer and sweat, a strange odor that might have been the odor of blood, and the lingering musty odor of sexual exhaustion. He watched as Sid examined the cabin, then he went up to the deck, leaned against the railing.

  None of it seemed real now. None. The boat beneath his feet, the motel room splattered with blood, the bodies at the morgue, Alma, his life with Alma ... The other boats at the docks before his eyes ... the stretch of bay off to his right ... the sky ... the land ... They were all things. Things that could be seen, things that could be felt, things that existed but were not entirely real ... not very important ...

  He lit a cigarette and his thoughts turned to Elaine, Beatrice, Peggy ... He felt the shortness of breath, the painful tightening in his loins ó the sudden overwhelming desire for a woman ... Elaine ... He remembered the softness of her flesh beneath his fingers ó the way she had let him touch every intimate portion of her body but had never let him pass beyond that act of playing ...

  "Ready?"

  He turned toward Sid, nodded.

  After they reached the car, Sid asked, "Disappointed?"

  Clark shrugged his shoulders.

  "You wanted to be the one to blow Pawelski's brains out. Right? But the blonde did it for you."

  Clark tried to grin. "Maybe it's better that way. If I'd killed Pawelski, I probably wouldn't have done such a good job. I would've aimed at his chest.

  The blonde did a real good job by blowing his head apart."

  Sid opened the car door, paused. He nodded toward the rear seat that had been covered with suitcases, the portable TV, other items taken from the motel room. "See all that? Know what's going to happen to it? We have to take it back to Trenton since the blonde lived in Trenton and Pawelski's last address was in Trenton. All those items will be tagged and kept awhile.

  They'll try to return them to the blonde's relatives and Pawelski's relatives but chances are they'll never locate the relatives ... if there are any. In that case, all the items will be kept awhile and sold at an auction. That TV wouldn't last long in the storeroom at city hall. How about a consolation prize, a souvenir ?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  "Norma here?"

  "She's working. She'll be home soon."

  Clark placed the TV on the floor, glanced around the room. The clock on the far wall said it was only three o'clock in the afternoon. If Norma was working eight to five, there would be more than two hours he would be alone with Peggy ... Blind luck ... blind good luck ... He hadn't known that Norma would be working, hadn't known that Peggy would be in Norma's apartment.

  Wanting a woman, any woman, he'd stopped at the apartment expecting to find only Norma, expecting to make love with her ...

  Peggy went to the phonograph, turned it off, and removed the record from the turntable. "I came over here to play my new record," she explained. "I don't have a phonograph. Norma lets me use her phonograph."

  He had felt desire for Peggy the first time he saw her; had felt the desire increase each succeeding time he saw her. Now, looking at her as she stood by the phonograph, he felt the desire burst again, harder than ever.

  She was wearing a white sleeveless blouse that hugged the curves of her small breasts, a short cotton skirt that emphasized the narrowness of her hips. Her large eyes showed she was afraid to be alone with him ó afraid because of her fear of men, the knowledge of what he might try to do. "I'll have to go now," she said. "I have to ó "

  "Can you help me a few minutes before you go? Someone gave me this TV. I want to see how it works." Not wanting to allow her time to say no, he placed the TV on the card table "Someone gave it to you ?"

  * * *

  The card table was littered with empty glasses, bottles, a scattered deck of cards, a score pad, ashtrays. Norma and Peggy had been playing canasta again. Most of the cigarettes were lipsticked on the ends, but there were some cigarette butts with no lipstick on the ends and he wondered if Norma and Peggy had "entertained" another man last night ó again allowing Peggy to watch while the man fucked Norma. It was entirely possible, even probable ...

  "Someone gave it to me but I don't know if the damned thing works or not.

  You stand over there and tell me how the picture looks while I fiddle with these knobs." He turned the TV on and listened to the faint hum from within the plastic case. He turned the adjusting knob. "Any picture yet?"

  He noticed the case was badly scratched in some places. Chances were the damned thing didn't work at all ó Pawelski had probably just carried it with him as a gimmick to distract his victims while he hypnotized them ó something for them to focus their attention on. "How's that? Peggy ... ?" He raised his head to look at her and felt a chill at the total emptiness in her eyes. Her lovely face had paled almost to the whiteness of her blouse, and her slender body had become lifeless, frozen ...

  He opened his mouth to say Peggy but the word never came to his lips. He remembered how he'd telephoned Sid from the kitchen and talked with Sid in the early hours of that morning ó how he had later stood by the sink in the kitchen with the nagging sensation he'd missed an important meaning in the conversation with Sid. It struck him now. Sid had said: One of the kids said he saw a man with a TV set at the tennis courts. And, speaking of the rapist, why should he lug along a TV? He sure as hell wouldn't watch TV while he raped a girl!

  He was standing slightly behind the TV ... unable to see the screen. Without thinking, he reached and turned the control knob to Off. The set being turned off made no difference. Peggy still stood before him, motionless, and he realized he had accidentally hypnotized her. Perhaps she would not awaken unless he ordered her to awaken.

  He ordered her to lay down on the couch and after she had settled onto the couch, he went there and slowly raised her skirt. He removed her panties and then removed his own clothes, settling down onto her, sinking his stiff cock in her soft tight cunt and beginning to fuck her while his mind whirled with the concept of the power he now possessed.

  He knew Peggy would never willingly have sexual intercourse with any man, so he tested the strength of the hypnosis by fucking her in a dozen different positions, ordering her to suck his cock and, finally, unable to delay longer, he shoved her down on the couch and fucked her until his come spurted into her velvety tight cunt. He ordered her to put on her panties and return to her own apartment, to awaken, and to not remember he had taken her.

  Hours later, with the work table in his cellar covered with tools and parts of the TV, he found the device in the heart of the set, constructed behind the screen ó the incredibly simple device designed to flash a pattern of varicolored lights in a rhythmic pattern.

  He laughed then at the simplicity of it ó a mechanical device no more complicated than a radio.

  The truth had eluded Sid, eluded everyone.

  There had never been any evidence of the device, only evidence of a hypnotist.

  He wondered if Pawelski had invented it ... or if Pawelski had stolen it from someone. It was amazingly simple and yet, although simpler than other electronic devices sold by the millions to the public, this device was obviously the result of years of research and work by one man in secrecy.

  He held it in one hand. It was so small it could be carried easily. The TV had been used only as a carrier, for concealment.

  There were so many possibilities ...

  EPILOGUE

  On the sidewalk in front of the North American Building, Elaine Bettinger stood near the marble cornerstone and waited for her bus. A breeze toyed with her skirt and she kept her skir
t from rising too far up the length of her thighs but allowed it to rise a few inches. She looked at the row of benches and the men sitting there.

  She could see it in their faces as they stared at her legs ó the lust showing as clearly as it had shown in Bill Medkeff's face, Tony DiRosa's face, Clark Vaughn's face ...

  They wanted her ó she felt a certain pride because they wanted her. It was wonderful to be wanted and satisfying to know they could never have her.

  The bus was coming. The other women were moving toward the yellow curbing ...

  "Elaine."

  Someone touched her arm.

  "Clark. What are you doing here ?"

  "I can give you a ride home. My car is parked over there."

  "Oh, thanks, Clark. Really, I shouldn't." She wondered how she could put it into words. How would it look if Mom saw her come home with Clark in his car? Mom had been staying with them ever since she married Jim ó Mom was always waiting at the window ó waiting to see her get off the bus at the corner ó Mom with those bright gray eyes that seemed to see and know everything. It was because of Mom that she never allowed herself to go all the way with any other man after she married Jim. Mom had looked into her eyes after that date with that freckle-faced boy in high school and Mom had known. Mom had beat her with Dad's belt that night and she had cried all night ...