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  #11  
Old 08-Sep-18, 16:14
dirksneath dirksneath is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

For the answers, stay tuned. Much more to come, including another twist or two.
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  #12  
Old 08-Sep-18, 17:57
iceman75 iceman75 is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

I love that her parents sent her to a doctor and that she beat the shit out of the doctor, sent him to the hospital, there is pretty much no one that can stop her with her dad pretty much owning the city, the Police probably won't lift a finger. So her authority will stand unchecked. Maybe the dad hires some thugs to try and take her out?
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  #13  
Old 08-Sep-18, 18:12
dirksneath dirksneath is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

No thugs. He is too poor to hire anyone and probably wouldn't anyway. He is a good, if someone naive (to say the least) man who makes bad decisions (once again, to say the least), but he mostly tries to stay within the law, although at one point he gets desperate and...well, you'll see. Thanks for continuing to read. I know this one is even longer than my others, but I hope you'll stick with it and find it worth your time. Hint: the next section is my personal favorite.
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  #14  
Old 08-Sep-18, 19:59
WeaponZero WeaponZero is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

Enjoying it so far, though not as much as the previous installment of Little Serial Killers (though that's because I favor stories that incorporate more displays of raw strength). But I do like where this is going. Very good read. Interesting to see how you plan to stretch it so long.
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  #15  
Old 08-Sep-18, 20:42
scarletspider scarletspider is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

amazing series story so far so great

one thing there should be more sentences of muscles. anyone else agree?

good work.
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  #16  
Old 08-Sep-18, 21:09
dirksneath dirksneath is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

I'll admit, I'm not as much into specific descriptions of muscles as many. I like the girls to have the bodies of fairly high level young gymnasts, and that's generally about as far as I go with in describing muscles. I usually add some explanation of incredible strength by citing genetic factors and wgt training. I could go further but there are always those who want me to add scenes with the girls lifting the men, using this or that hold on them, more martial arts, etc, and I try to incorporate some of it more than I would just for myself, as I do aim to please, but you still can't please all the people all the time, etc.
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  #17  
Old 08-Sep-18, 21:11
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mixfightor mixfightor is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

A long story is definitely not a problem when it is well written, mate. So the next installment is your favourite? I can't wait to see why.

I agree with you about the muscles, Dirk. Everyone has their fetish triggers they like to see included. I personally love facesitting in stories, but Jennifer is only eleven so it is hardly appropriate for that to happen every two seconds. I think that letting the author's write the stories that entertain and delight THEM the most leads to better quality stories as that passion always comes through in the writing.

Thanks again, Dirk.

Last edited by mixfightor; 08-Sep-18 at 21:16.
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  #18  
Old 08-Sep-18, 21:46
dirksneath dirksneath is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

Thanks for your comments. You said it far better than I could. (And look for some face sitting, but not in the next segment). I may be giving too much away, but the reason I like the next segment so much is because it involves more psychological torture and the increasing anxiety of the father of the victim. Stuff I don't usually emphasize that much except as in the context of a long fight scene, as with my other three stories. People who like fighting ONLY will probably consider the next segment the most boring, as most of it occurs when there's no fighting at all, although I think some will like a lot of what is included instead. I guarantee some will be disappointed, but I hope at least a few will like it.

As for face sitting and preteens, you may recall there was quite a bit of face sitting in the first Little Serial Killers story, as that's how 12 yr old Yelena killed her victim, alternating between face sitting and neck scissors. I kept the sexual stuff often associated with face sitting out (female orgasms, etc). However, it's a gray area, as is something that is included in the next two segments, so that may stir up some controversy due to the girl's age, but once again I made no specific sexual references, and even did a small amt of editing for that reason. It will be interesting to see the response to it. Sorry, no more info about that, you'll just have to wait and see.

Thanks for all the comments and the "thanks." Please let me know about the frequency of my posting of segments. Am I posting too many too close together (only three so far, so I hope not), or is it too few? Some are faster readers than others, and some have more to do than sit down and read stories all day, so once again, can't please all the people, but would like to know if most prefer more or less frequent posting. I try to keep all segments to 8 pages, give or take a page.
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  #19  
Old 09-Sep-18, 00:05
dirksneath dirksneath is offline
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

Part 4


Bobby then watched in horror as she walked back up to continue working him over. She kicked him in the crotch, after which she clenched his head between her legs, looping her arms though his and placing her hands on his back. Bobby had the same view of the cruel little girls' bare feet and pink painted toenails as his dad had a few nights ago when she pedigreed him. She dropped to the rest room floor with Bobby's head still tucked between her legs, slamming his face on the floor, which hurt even more than the pedigrees she used on Mr Strickland, as this floor was not carpeted.

His nose was smashed and began bleeding immediately. She pulled him up by his hair and punched him in the stomach, then elbowed his upper back, causing him to collapse face down on the floor again. Instead of pulling him up, she started kicking and stomping him, then pulled him up to his knees and kicked him in the face, knocking him back into the wall, where he slid to the floor with his head resting against the wall. The girl stomped him in the crotch, then pulled him up by his collar and punched him in the chest, once again knocking him into the wall, but this time he managed to maintain his footing.

She got behind him and trapped him in a full nelson.In pain, he tried to escape, but was helpless to break the hold. Just for fun, she shook him, jerking him back and forth, then to the right and back to the left, proving she was in total control. After about a minute, she released him and pushed him face first into the wall three times, then let him fall at her feet. She then stomped him several times with her bare feet, then stopped and waited to see if he dared to get up. He didn't. Instead, he started crying, sobbing loudly as the girl stood over him, feet spread, hands on hips. She then put a bare foot on his face and said, “Kiss and lick, loser.” He refused at first, so she stomped his face, causing him to cry out in pain. “DO IT,” she demanded. This time he did. He kissed the top of one foot, and when the wicked child was satisfied, she turned her foot up so that he was facing the sole, which he licked. She then withdrew her foot and offered him the other one to worship. She made him kiss the top of her foot three times, then made him lick the sole a few seconds longer.

He had hoped that was the end of it, as it was the way she often ended a fight. However, in his case, she grabbed him and dragged him into a nearby stall, forcing his head into the toilet. He figured after everything else he had endured, a swirly would be something he could survive, but what she did was worse. She held his face in the water for almost a minute, sitting on his back to make it even less likely that he could come up for air. Then she pulled his head up and let him catch his breath, then did it again. Jennifer's favorite number was three. She had a tendency to do anything she considered fun three times, if she could, so she did it again. This time he didn't think she was going to let him up, but finally did, after flushing the toilet, of course.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” she told the poor boy as he coughed and sputtered, gulping air to replenish his lungs. She walked over to her books and sat down to put her socks and shoes back on, then picked up her books and phone.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, reaching into one of her books and giving him an envelope with the name Robert Stickland, Sr, written on it. “Give this to your father. It's very important,” she said. She started to kiss him on the cheek, but thought better of it, considering where his head had just been. “Don't forget to say hello to your daddy,” she said as she walked out. “And be sure and tell him how much I enjoyed beating the FUCK out of him the other night.”

Bobby was hurting badly from the beating he had just received from the little girl, but her parting remark stung him almost as much as her fists and feet had a few minutes earlier. His dad had said Mr. Sheffield had beaten him up. Was it...Could it have been Jennifer instead? He had no doubt she was capable of it, and she was certainly mean enough. But did his dad lie to him about what happened that night? If so, he could understand, but still, it hurt to know his dad may not have told him the truth.

When Mr Strickland saw Bobby, his heart sank, and he immediately felt a tremendous amount of guilt, as he knew where the bloody nose and busted lip came from without even asking. Bobby said nothing as he gave his father the envelope, and Mr Strickland didn't even ask what it was or where it came from. He knew, and his heart started beating rapidly as he opened it while his son went to his bedroom and slammed the door.

Bobby almost immediately came back out of his room and said, “Jennifer said to tell you hello. She also said she enjoyed beating the...the CRAP out of you the other night,” changing the wording slightly, as he had never said fuck to either of his parents. He then turned and went back into his bedroom, slamming the door so hard this time, his dad jumped slightly.

Mr Strickland wanted to dig a hole in the middle of the floor and crawl into it. Bobby knew. That fucking little bitch TOLD HIM she beat him up. To him, at that moment at least, her telling Bobby was worse than the beating itself. He was beginning to think this nightmare would never end, and the note from the little girl made things even worse.

The man's hands shook nervously as he opened the envelope. Inside was a thank you note with the words Thank You printed on the front along with some pretty pastel colored flowers. He opened it and read her message, which was surrounded by little hand drawn valentine hearts: “Thank you so much for the good time you showed me Saturday night. I can't remember when I've had so much fun. I am looking forward to our next date this Saturday at 8:00 pm. PS -Don't you DARE stand me up, and don't be late. I would hate to have to come looking for you, ha, ha, ha!”

At the bottom was a URL address with the following message below it: Please watch this little memento of the fun we had.

Mr Strickland went to his computer and quickly found the website, which showed a video of the little girl beating him up, with the action being filmed from above. Mr Strickland knew that it was filmed by the obvious security camera close to the ceiling between the foyer and the living room. The camera apparently had a motion sensor that allowed it to move with the combatants to different areas within its range.

The video had obviously been edited as the beginning of the fight had been cut, so there was no evidence to prove she had started it. He wondered if she had the capability to edit it, or if someone like her father did it, but he suspected it was the girl, and that her father still knew nothing about the fight, or the slaughter, as he had begun to think of it. He believed kids today knew more about technology than most adults. Although he didn't think an edited video could be used in court, still, this was not meant to be seen in a legal proceeding, but rather it was for Mr Strickland's eyes only, unless he refused to do what the little girl told him to do, in which case almost everyone in town would probably see it.

Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him. It was a landline phone located to the right on his computer desk. He had a cheap Tracfone but at home he still preferred his old landline, as it was easier to understand what people were saying. He answered, and when he heard the voice on the other end, his blood ran cold.

“Robert?” the young female voice asked. He was furious when he realized who it was. He was also angry with himself for not having taken Molly's advice about getting an unlisted number, although this girl could probably could have found the number either through her father's connections or an internet search, since she was obviously computer savvy. If his wife or Bobby had answered the phone, would she have identified herself? Even if the answer was no, he was still angry that she had the audacity to call him.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked, then said “And how dare you call me at home!” He was trying to keep his voice down so his wife and son would not hear him.

“Why Robert, darling, I'm just calling because I've missed you and wanted to hear your voice,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Stop it, and don't ever call me 'darling,' or any other term of endearment.”

“I'm sorry you're in such a bad mood today. I hope you're in a better mood by Saturday,” she said, then continued. “Did you get my love note?”

“Yes...I mean, I got your message, you evil little shit,” he said.

“And have you seen Bobby since school let out? I assume he's home now,” she said.

“Yes, and I told you to LEAVE HIM...” he stopped, as he was starting to shout, and didn't want to attract the attention of his wife or son. Lowering his voice, he continued. “Leave him alone. Please, don't make me have to warn you again!”

She laughed, then said, “As I recall, you said I could do anything I wanted to you as long as I didn't beat up your son again.”

He knew those were not his exact words, but had to admit it was close enough, and that she had him by the balls and there was nothing he could do about it and obviously no way he could escape having to fight her again. He was silent for a few seconds, not knowing what else to say, as nothing he could say would save him from her. She wanted him for the simple pleasure of beating him up, crushing and brutalizing him and totally destroying him.

“If you really don't want me beating him up again, you'll promise me you WILL be at my house Saturday night at 8:00 pm. Be there, as I will come for you if you don't show up. I found out where you live: 128 Walnut Street. It's not too far away, although it is in a bad section of town and my mommy and daddy don't like for me to ride my bike in places like that. They're afraid something bad might happen, and they're right, you know, but it's not me that has to worry about that. Something bad will happen to YOU if you don't show up. Not just your pussy wussy son, but your pussy wussy SELF. I'll come after you if I have to. If you run, I'll catch you. And if you hide, I'll find you. And then...Well, we both know what will happen then. I will totally destroy you.”

Once again, Robert Strickland was at a loss for words. Things were getting worse by the minute, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was totally helpless against her.

“Robert, sweetheart, are you still there?” she asked.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“By the way, did you check out my website? You can download that video, you know. Want me to tell you how?”

“NO,” he shouted, then once more lowered his voice. “I've seen it. I could probably use that video to sue your father.”

“Oh, I don't think so,” she said. “It would probably help me, especially if I decided to report you for attempted rape.”

He froze. Once again he felt like a trapped animal, or a deer caught in the headlights. He finally said, “There's nothing in that film that could be interpreted as me trying to rape you.”

“It really doesn't matter if there is or not. If most people in town, including and especially the police, were to see that video, they might think so. It clearly shows you in my house. It also shows that I was beating the shit out of you, but that could be because you came over to my house and started a fight with me over the fact that I whipped your son's ass, then you tried to RAPE me. The fact that I'm beating YOU up instead of the other way around would probably convince people I was just defending myself, and it might also prove to be very entertaining for most anyone who sees it, especially if I were to upload it to Facebook, YouTube...”

“OK, what the hell do you want? You're obviously blackmailing me, so what is it you want from me?” he asked.

“Why I've already told you, sweet baby. I want YOU. I want another wonderful night like we had last Saturday,” she said. “Be here at 8:00 pm, or I will come after you AND your son. I will beat both of you up in front of your wife, and who knows? I might beat her up, too. So be here or ELSE.”

She disconnected. Molly, who had been cooking dinner, came in and asked, “Who was that on the phone?”

“Nobody, dear,” he said. “Nothing important.”

“Does it have anything to do with the Stricklands...” she asked, before he interrupted her.

“I SAID IT WAS NOBODY,” he yelled. “Please, I'm sorry, I...I just don't want to talk about it.” He then walked to the den and turned the TV on as he settled into the recliner, wondering what the hell he was gonna do, what the hell he COULD do, to keep from being beaten up again by an eleven-year-old psycho who was going to make his life hell no matter what he did.

He couldn't take a chance on the girl showing up at his house, he couldn't risk it for the sake of his wife and son, not to mention the fact that he didn't want the rest of the community finding out what she had done to him last Saturday. He tried to think of a way out of it, but came to the conclusion there was nothing he could do but keep his “date” with her. The only question now was what he could do to keep from being totally destroyed by the girl when they fought again, and for that he had no answer.

He tossed and turned all night, getting very little sleep. What would he tell Molly and Bobby about where he was going this Saturday? He couldn't tell them the truth. That was out of the question. He would have to make up a good reason, but then, what would he say when he came home badly beaten once more, with bruises and blood on his face? He had no answers to those questions.

On Friday, he told Molly he had decided to take self defense lessons from someone Tommy Jordan recommended. Other than that, he said he didn't want to talk about it. Molly knew her husband very well and knew there was something he wasn't telling her. However, she also knew there was no point in nagging him about it. He would be even less likely to tell her anything beyond whatever he wanted her to know if she did that. So she didn't ask questions.

On Friday, the phone rang. Molly answered, and said “Hello” more than once, then hung up. He asked if she knew who it was, though he already knew. She said she didn't know, the person didn't say. When the phone rang again thirty minutes later, Molly had gone to the store. Bobby was visiting a friend, so he didn't have to worry about either of them hearing anything after he answered the phone. He started not to answer, but knew she'd just keep calling until he did.

“Hello, Robert darling,” she said when he answered. “I'm so totally looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow night. I hope you intend to keep our date.”

“Yes,” he said. “I'll be there.”

“That is so totally COOL,” she said, giggling happily like a little girl who just learned she was getting a doll she had wanted. “I can hardly wait to get my hands on you again. Do you want me to tell you what I'm going to do to you?”

“No,” he said, his voice shaking with fear.

“Well...I think I'll tell you anyway. I'm going to beat holy hell out of you with my bare hands. I will totally tear you into itty bitty pieces. I'm going to kick and stomp the SHIT out of you with my bare feet. And then I'm going to put you between my legs and slowly, very slowly, crush the fucking LIFE out of you. I will squeeze you so hard with my legs your fucking eyeballs will pop out of your skull. I'm gonna make you beg for mercy and make you cry, and then I'll crush you even harder. My legs are gonna knock you out, 'cause you won't be able to breathe. I'm going to totally destroy you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. You won't be able to stop me no matter what you do. But I hope you'll try, 'cause I like a challenge.”

He was afraid to hang up, scared that she'd just call back. He didn't want that, especially since she might call again after Molly and Bobby returned home. So he continued to listen, his fear growing with each threat she made.

She then started making sucking noises, followed by more giggles, then asked, “Guess what I'm doing?” He refused to answer, so she continued. “I'm sucking my TOES,” she said, then giggled again. “Most people can't do that, but I can. You know why? Because I'm real flexible, 'cause I'm a GYMNAST,” she said, all perky, like she was proudly telling her grandparents or a favorite uncle.

“Why are you telling me...” he stopped, suddenly realizing as his face flushed. She was going to tell him anyway, but why did he have to walk right in and set himself up like that? Stupid!

“Because when I get my hands on you again, one of the things I'm going to do is make you kiss and lick my bare feet, and then you're gonna SUCK MY TOES,” she said before collapsing in a fit of giggles. “I've never made anybody do that before, so you get to be the first. That should make you so proud.”

He had never been so humiliated in his life, not even when she was beating him up, not even when he saw the edited video of the beating and not even when Bobby told him he knew she had beaten him up, and not even after all the other things she had told him she was going to do. He was afraid of what she would say next, but even more afraid of what might happen if he hung up.

She was a cruel, sadistic little shit who was an expert at not only physical but psychological torture, making him feel lower than the worm she accused him of being, and continually raising his anxiety level up one notch at a time. He didn't know how much more he could stand before he suffered a complete emotional breakdown. If he had been witnessing her do this to someone else, he would have flippantly wondered if she should give the poor guy the number of that psychiatrist who was supposedly recovering nicely.

“You'll probably try to get away from me,” she continued. “You'll run for the door, but I'll catch you, and when I do, it's going to be even worse. I'm going to wreck you. I'm going to hurt you so bad. OH how I'm gonna beat you up. You'll beg me to stop, but I'll just wrap you up in my arms and legs and squash you like the bug you are.”

“Please....Don't...Please stop,” he said, his voice trembling. He was on the verge of tears.

“Oh, you don't want me to tell you? I guess you want it to be a surprise, huh?” she said.

“I just want you to leave me and my son alone. Please.” he begged in a voice that made him sound like a whiny child.

“Now Robert, you and I both know that's not going to happen. I'll leave your son alone ONLY if you come over like a good boy, but if you don't...Well, let's just say I haven't hurt Bobby nearly as much as I will if you don't,” she said, “and then I'm gonna come and get you and hurt you anyway, so you might as well show up and keep our little date.” Then, “I just want you to think about what I've told you, about all the things I'm gonna do. And that's just a little of it. There will be more...LOTS more. Goodbye, darling. I'll see you tomorrow.” She made three smacky mouth kissing noises, then disconnected the call.

Mr Strickland held onto the phone for several seconds, then slowly put it down, went to his room and fell on the bed. God help me, he prayed silently. God, please, please help me, please, please, PLEASE.” Then he cried like he hadn't cried since he was a little boy.

Saturday was the longest day of his life. He had never been so scared. He had had about three hours sleep over the last two nights. He'd finally relax enough to sleep, then wake up shaking an hour later, sheets soaking wet with sweat. Molly had to sleep on the sofa, as he tossed and turned so much, not to mention the fact that the sheets were wet. He tried to take a long nap that afternoon, but couldn't. Every time he felt himself drifting off, he saw Jennifer in his mind, and the evil smile she had shown him just before trying to make a deal with him that would keep her from beating up Bobby again,the one that preceded her challenging him to come back for round two, or the second fall. He wondered if he would ever get a good night's sleep, or even a decent nap, again.

When sleep finally came, it was restless, with dreams of what she had done to him last week, and when he woke up, it was 8:15 pm. He was late! He quickly dressed and was halfway out the door when the phone rang. Molly headed for the phone, but he yelled, “I'LL GET IT.”

He reached the phone after the third ring, and caught his breath for a couple of seconds before saying, “Hello.”

“Where are you?” she asked impatiently. “I'm waiting.”

“I'm...I'm sorry, I lost track of the time. I'm on my way.”

“You'd better be, asshole, or I'm coming to get you, and I'll destroy you in front of your wife and son, and then I'll destroy your wormy little wussy pussy son,” she said, then disconnected.

He told his wife it was the person he was taking self-defense lessons from. She gave him a look that told him she didn't believe him, but didn't question him. He dressed a little more casually this time, with a light blue Polo shirt, khaki pants and a pair of athletic shoes purchased from Walmart.

On his way over, he tried to psych himself up while also trying to develop some kind of strategy. He felt damned if he did try to beat her and certainly damned if he didn't. If he injured her, especially severely enough for her to require medical treatment, he'd certainly be arrested and probably sued by Mr Sheffield. He'd lose his job, and probably his wife and son. But if he didn't fight back, she'd destroy him, and would probably anyway. He knew he stood little chance against her either way, but had to fight back in hopes of at least keeping his injuries to a minimum. He couldn't take another week off from work, and couldn't live through another week like this one.

Regardless of his offensive strategy – not that he really had one – he knew that defensively, he had to keep her from getting those legs around him. Mr Strickland felt he could block her punches, especially now that he was over the initial shock of having to fight her. His reflexes were still pretty good for a man his age, or at least he thought they were. But once she snared him with those legs, there was nothing he could do. He would be at her mercy, and he knew she had none. He had to keep her from using those lethal legs the way she liked, as she would brutalize him with them, and that would be all she wrote.

As he approached the house, his heart was beating so hard and fast he could feel it and practically hear it thumping in his chest. He saw the Land Rover was not there, so her parents were obviously not home. He saw someone going into the house from the pool. He couldn't tell for sure it was her, but figured it had to be. He found himself thinking, I just hope she's not in some skimpy swim suit. Then he thought to himself, What difference does that make? She's just a little girl. He couldn't bring himself to admit that it mattered.

When he pulled into the driveway she opened the front door, as she had apparently seen him approaching while she was at the pool. When he opened the car door, she struck a provocative pose, leaning against the right side of the door fame with her hand on her left hip. She stood so that her lower right leg was crossed over her lower left leg, up on the toes of her right foot. After a few seconds, she shifted her position, standing on her right leg and placing her left foot on her lower right leg, still leaning against the door frame.

She was wearing a tankini, although Mr Strickland didn't know what that was. It consisted of a skimpy pair of multicolored bikini panties and a matching tank top that was cut to reveal her tummy and belly button. It looked like it had been crocheted, sort of like an afghan, very expensive looking. Once again, he tried to convince himself that it didn't matter, she didn't even have the slightest development in her breasts. She's just a child, he kept telling himself. It doesn't matter,she's just a child, just a little girl. A little girl who was going to beat holy hell out of him.

To be continued...

Last edited by dirksneath; 09-Sep-18 at 00:13.
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Old 09-Sep-18, 00:39
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Default Re: The Little Bully Destroys Her Victim's Father

I like the psychological dread and buildup to this story, mate. There is that feeling that this is the last place he wants to be, but that he has to put himself in harms way to protect his son. I also like how excited Jennifer is getting from it all, too. She is forcing an older man to succumb to her demands and soon will make him succumb to her fighting skills.
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domination, humiliation, mixed, preteen, scissors, violence

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