Vixen did her best not to let her anger show as she stepped into Cactus Canyon. This was where she had met Wraith and discovered true love. This was where her real life had started and this was the first time she had been back here since she had found the only man for her. This should have been nostalgic for her. Too bad the reason she was here was because of her anger and need to vent properly. She was not here to reminisce. She was here to find a victim.
Wraith had not come by or called for a few days now, and it was really starting to get to her. Sure, she was used to him disappearing for days at a time, but that was usually for one job or another. He was not working right now. Even when he was not working he would leave without explanation for days at a time and beat her when she asked him where he had been. This time was different though. This was the first time he had taken off after professing his love for somebody else.
That was why Vixen was angry. She did not think that he had left town. She thought that he was watching her. Watching that stupid bitch named Jennifer. He didn't seem to be focused on James. James was still alive even though Wraith had said that it turned out he was no real threat after all. He should have just killed the piss ant and gotten it over with. No, he was holding off for some reason and Vixen thought it had something to do with Jennifer.
Maybe he did not want to push it further because he had told James that he would take away everything precious to him before he ended his life. That would mean killing Jennifer. Wraith had told Vixen that she would be able to kill the little bitch when the time came for it, so maybe he had decided to call it all off. Maybe he didn't want his precious little whore getting hurt after all.
Then again, maybe Wraith had decided that he would take Jennifer away from James in a different way altogether. Maybe he had decided to woo her away from James and make her his own. This would be entirely unacceptable. If this was what he had decided then he would be in for quite a surprise. Vixen would not allow another woman to have his affection and live. She would complete her assignment whether he wanted her to or not. He had said that she would be the one to kill Jennifer, and she was not going to make a liar out of him.
Maybe when he found his precious little Jennifer dead Wraith would finally finish what he had started. He had promised to do this too, and he damned sure better not prove to be a liar about it. He had told her on many occasions that he would bring the end of her life, maybe even letting her do it by her own hand after he had pushed her to the brink. He had said that he would break her and this was what she wanted the most out of him.
She smiled at the thought. This very night club was where it had begun for him, but her need for pain had started a long time ago. She remembered with relish the first night her father had come home drunk and full of lust. She had only been thirteen for two weeks at the time, just starting to take the shape of a woman. At the time, she had not known anything of sex, but she learned quickly and pain was the tutor.
If she thought about it hard enough, she could still smell the whiskey on his breath as he told her to keep her mouth shut. She could feel the sting on her face as he slapped her across the lips when she had cried out it pain. She had been a virgin and he had not been gentle. Who could have blamed her for crying out? Her father had blamed her and rewarded her with violence. He had not wanted her to wake up her mother and ruin his fun.
It had not ended the first night. If it had, maybe she would not have turned out the way that she did. It had not been on this first night that she had learned to relish the pain. She had sobbed and bled. He had been every bit as fast as he was gentle, which of course was to say that he had not been fast at all. By the time he had finished and left the room, she had thought she was going to die. She had wanted to die. The pain and humiliation had been overwhelming to her.
She had trembled visibly the next night when he came back for more. He had liked the first taste he got and had decided he needed a second helping. She had been so terrified that she had pissed herself out of fear with his touch. This had done nothing to dampen his lust for her, but it had made him very angry. He had ripped off her panties and shoved them into her mouth as a gag. He told her that if she was going to cover him with her urine then she was going to choke on it herself.
The second night had been just as horrible as the first and the third night was no better. He came to visit her nightly, beating her and having his way with her. It was not until about a month of this treatment that she found she had started to like it. She would get horny just thinking about it. She would wait in anticipation for him to get home from the bar. When he would come stumbling into her room, she would already be naked and waiting.
This did not mean that she cooperated with him. If she was too pliant for him, he would not hurt her and she would not be able to get off as well. She did not like it when he was able to come and she could not. Vixen wanted the pain. She needed the pain. In order to get the pain she craved, therefore, she would always fight him and struggle until he beat her into submission.
She loved how confused and angry he would become, ranting about her waiting for him in the nude and then trying to deny him entry. He told her that she was nothing more than a typical slut. A vixen that lured men in and then acted like she didn't want it. He told her that sluts like her deserved whatever treatment they got. She wholeheartedly agreed with him. She certainly worked hard enough to get what she wanted, and she damn well thought she deserved to get it.
As time went on, though, it had not been enough. By the time she was seventeen,, he was no longer able to excite her enough to get her off. This did not sit well with her, so she had tried to get the level of violence raised higher. She had pulled a knife on him and threatened to cut his member off. This had been an outrage to him. He had taken the knife and threatened to kill her. Vixen had loved this. She had let him slice her.
The pain was beautiful. She was climaxing on just the pain alone. She was getting more and more excited. Vixen was really beginning to believe that he was going to kill her and she yearned for it. Being brutally murdered was so exciting to her that she was building up to another climax when her mother had walked in and screamed. She ruined everything. He was not able to stop her from escaping the house and crying out to the neighbors for help. Vixen's father had not been able to finish what he had started before the neighbors had restrained him and called the police.
Vixen had never forgiven her mother for betraying her like that. Her father had been locked up. She was told that he would never be able to hurt her again. That had been extremely disappointing. After this, she had worked her way from one abusive relationship to another. None of them had been satisfactory, however. None of them had been willing to finish what her father had started. It had only been after she had walked into this very night club and found Wraith that she had discovered a man that could get her off and promised to break and kill her.
This thought brought her back to the here and now. She had wandered back to the bathroom and was checking her makeup. She did not really know why she did this; it just seemed like the pre-programmed thing for women to do. She had just applied her makeup before she left her house, and then came straight here, but she still had acted on compulsion and came to make sure that it was perfect.
Of course, it was. Perfect, that is. Vixen stood back from the mirror and smiled. Years ago she had gotten her inspiration from the burlesque model Dita Von Teese, and the look was nearly perfect. Her black hair was down but pulled back over her shoulders. Her pale skin made the black mascara and bright red lipstick add exclamation points to her elegant face. The tight red dress clung to her exquisite figure as if it were more intent on making love to her than covering her. The bottom of the dress barely extended beyond her ass cheeks and gave way to knee high black leg stockings and red high heels.
With the light skin and revealing clothing, she was exactly the way Wraith had described her the first time he had met her. A cross between a vampire and a hooker. It was the perfect bait for leading an unwary and intoxicated man to his demise. That was the only reason that she was here. She was horny and angry and somewhere among the writhing bodies of the night club was a man that was going to help her with both of those issues. After all, Wraith had done more than simply give her the hope of realizing her greatest fantasy; he had also shown her another way of getting off. Murder.
She left the bathroom and made her way to the dance floor, perfectly wiggling her backside as she went. Vixen could feel hungry eyes making their way up and down her body and following her as she went. She smiled to herself, but did not look back in the direction that the stares came from. She would not go to them; she would make them come to her. Once she was in the middle of the dance floor, she began to move erotically to the music, expertly performing the mating dance of a black widow.
Vixen kept her eyes mostly closed as she swayed her backside and ran her hands up and down her body, but she was intimately aware of men moving toward her. She kept dancing on her own until one of the drinkers had enough courage to step right up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist and begin to rub his body against hers. She did not resist. Instead, she guided his hands on a tour of the outside of her clothing.
He was getting excited and she could feel his arousal as he pressed himself against her backside. She reached one of her hands behind her and delicately toyed with his member. It was not as large as she would have preferred, but she would make do. As he gasped in surprise and pleasure, she leaned her head back and pressed it into his neck. Vixen inhaled the mixture of sweat, beer, and lust that his body gave off and knew that this was going to be fun.
Without waiting for the song to end, she pushed off of him and walked toward the door. She stuck her hand up above her shoulder and crooked her finger at him, signalling for him to follow. Without looking back, she knew that he was hot on her trail. If he had been of the canine persuasion, he would have had his tongue hanging out with his tail wagging. As it was he probably did have his tongue hanging out. She could feel the glares and envious stares that were sent this man's direction as he obediently followed her swaying backside.
Men were so easy. All she had to do was shake her ass at them and they would do whatever she wanted them to. All except the only real man she had ever known. Wraith would never have followed her as blindly as this pig did. Wraith led and she followed. That was what made him special. That was why she was so in love with him. Not only was he willing to fulfil her fantasies, he insisted on doing so on his terms. Everything was on his terms and he did not give a damn what she or anybody else thought of it.
He was a real man. He took charge. Hell, for that matter, he took whatever he damn well pleased. This reminded her that he may just be taking Jennifer at this very moment. Anger shot back through her. As she walked out the door and toward her car, only one thought registered in her mind. 'Wraith, baby, this one's for you damn it.'