I saw the cyclist from quite a long way back on the straight country road. As I got closer I was fascinated by the movement of the cyclist's buttocks moving in rhythm with the legs and pedals. I observed the blonde ponytail hanging below the helmet and the way her tight threequarter length blue bike pants showed every ripple of her thighs and calves. As I rapidly closed her in my van I appreciated how well her tight fighting yellow and black polyester jersey displayed her trim waist and the shape of her fit upper body. Observing the shape of her athletic body from behind was certainly cheering me up as I returned with the small van empty after a wasted journey to Gloucester.
I still cannot believe I didn't spot a huge bloody petrol tanker coming towards me on the other side of the narrow road until too late! As I swerved left to avoid it I heard my wing mirror smash as it hit the lorries mudguards then a louder clattering along the nearside of my van as I struck the speeding cyclist forcing her front wheel into the stone and earth roadside hedge as her back wheel tangled with my rear nearside wheel.
I braked hard and ran back to the mangled bike and the prone cyclist in a panic, as the tanker disappeared into the distance apparently oblivious to the incident.. There was no way I could blame anyone else for my stupid inattention, I felt certain I would at the very least lose my licence for this. I stood over the motionless body of the girl and looked down at her. The crash had ripped off her cycle helmet and one of her shoes, and blood trickled out of her left nostril onto the tarmac, while her right arm lay behind her head at a slightly unnatural angle.
She looked dead. I put my mobile phone, which I had grabbed as I got out of the van, back into my pocket and, in a moment of madness, decided to try to hide all the evidence of my accident. I first pulled the twisted bike out of the hedge and tried to put it in the back of my van – it was too long, I panicked again – no, it would be OK, it had quick release hubs so I could swiftly remove both the buckled wheels and I then chucked it all into the van easily. I then turned to the girl's corpse, as I started to lift her body under the armpits I felt her chest heave slightly and she uttered a hollow moan – she was still alive. Shit! I would have to get her to hospital, I started to pull the phone back out of my pocket. No! I wasn't going to lose my job and have my life ruined just because this bitch had looked so sexy on her bike.
I hesitated, another vehicle could come along at any moment.
Still shaking a bit from what I had done I made up my mind. I took off my tie and bound her wrists tightly together behind her back, she made a pathetic "uhhh" sound as I moved her right arm, but once tied behind it looked quite normal. I than bound her ankles tight together with a luggage strap before gagging her mouth with the sponge I use for cleaning the van tied firmly in place with a triangular bandage from the first aid kit. For the first time I noticed her forehead was badly grazed and her left cheek was cut and badly bruised. In the distance I could hear a car coming. Forgetting she was a living being I threw her into the back of the van on top of the mangled bike, slammed the doors shut and sped off.
For the next twenty miles I drove carefully, trying to calm down and thinking what to do next. It would simplify things if she died in the van. I pulled over and phoned the office to say I would be going straight home that evening. Looking into the back of the van I could see her body straining as she whimpered, only then did I realise her rib cage was resting on a metal pedal clip which had torn her jersey, her face was lying on the chain and the bottom of the front forks appeared to be jammed into her crotch. I felt shame as all I did was curse her "shut up, fucking shut up". I recalled a disused quarry by a wooded river at the end of a long track, where I had once delivered to a boatyard which had now closed down. no doubt it was occasionally used as a secluded place for lovers to meet and shag in the backs of cars but I couldn't think of anywhere better at the time. It would take another hour to get there so it was nearly dusk when I finally dragged her out of the van and dropped her on the rough ground so I could get the bike out and heave it into the deep waters of the flooded quarry.
I just sat and looked at the girl writhing feebly on the dirty ground for about ten minutes. Her close fitting cycling kit certainly allowed every sinew and muscle movement to be seen, which then reminded me how the bitch had so distracted me in the first place. I walked round in front of her and saw her wide terrified eyes staring at me. Stupid bitch, there was no way I could ever release her now she had seen my face. Frustrated I kicked her hard in the belly. Her whole body flexed athletically as she drew in her pained abdomen, I then stared at the dirty imprint of my boot on her yellow jersey. I hated myself for feeling good after that! Twice more I kicked her in the belly, harder each time, so she continued to twist and writhe with muffled sobs for several more minutes before lying almost still again with just her chest heaving in time with barely audible sobs. I knew I needed more than that now.
The sun had now disappeared behind the trees but a full moon was just rising the other side of the valley so I had no difficulty in seeing her. I reached for the tear the pedal clip had made in her jersey and, starting from that, really enjoyed tearing it off her torso and ripping down the short arms to remove it entirely. I held the tattered remains in front of her face as I set fire to it. Her horrified expression illuminated by the flames was exquisite! I fondled her breasts, chest and abdomen by the pale moonlight, but couldn't appreciate her athletic arms as I would have liked with them tied behind her back.
So I dragged her by the feet into the I untied her wrists and immediately retied one, again with my tie, as high as I could reach up the trunk of one of a pair of small trees. What was she was so desperately trying to say through her gag? Nothing I wanted to hear I was certain, so I hit her hard in the mouth – now a little blood started bubbling from the sponge and bandage gag. As frothy blood started to trickle down her bare chest I untied her ankles and re-tied the end of the cargo strap to her right wrist and threw the other end over a fork in the trunk of the second tree. As I heaved on it with all my strength stretching her arms wide to lift her off the ground she managed to utter a loud desperate screech despite the bloody gag – I then remembered how that shoulder had looked as if it was dislocated after the crash. A momentary guilt was followed by excitement at her agony as I heaved at the strap to now lift her toes finally clear of the ground.
Her Lycra clad legs now failed wildly so I couldn't get close to her. I had to be satisfied with standing back and watching as the moonlight revealed a damp stain spreading out round her crotch then down the inside of her thighs, ending as a trickle down her calves to fly as droplets from her kicking feet.
It took about ten minutes for her agonized flailing to subside enough for me to get close enough to her to grasp her waistband and pull down and then completely remove her I wrapped them round a stick then set fire to them to use as a torch to provide a few a moments flickering orange illumination of her stretched naked body, as a change from the pale moonlight.
I almost envied her, stretched out naked in the cool moonlight, although she most certainly was NOT enjoying it! I stripped myself naked as she watched me intently while still twisting in efforts to relieve the agony. I walked close up in front of her, her attempts to kick or knee me away were becoming increasingly feeble as she exhausted herself. I actually enjoyed it when her bare knees poked me in the stomach "go on, fight back, bitch" I said as I clung to her shoulders and heaved myself up onto her. It wasn't as easy as I expected and though I got some satisfaction seeing how my extra weight made her bonds cut into her wrists I couldn't get my throbbing excited penis into her cunt while she kept bucking her pelvis in an attempt to throw me off. Suddenly her right shoulder jerked downwards a little and her whole body arched then went rigid and still for a few seconds before starting to shake and vibrate… oops! I think my weight has pulled her arm back out of her shoulder socket. Her chin dropped onto her chest as the quivering stopped, and I could smell shit.
Had I killed her? Had the strain stopped her heart? I pressed my hand against the cool pale stretched skin below the left side of her rib cage, her heart was still Taking advantage of her unconsciousness I untied her allowing her drop to the ground, then spotting a large fallen branch nearby dragged it beneath her shoulders and tied her still outstretched arms to that. I wanted her conscious when I fucked her so I went back to the van, got my hard hat scooped some water up in it and poured it over her face. Slowly she came back round, she looked first at each bound wrist then straight at me, at which point I grabbed her ankles and spread her legs before giving her an absolutely FANTASTIC fuck. As she showed no sign of excitement as I came to the best climax of my life I grabbed both her neat breasts tightly and clawed at them until my fingers drew blood .. at least that made her hips hump violently towards me and her vagina tighten even if it wasn't a real orgasm.
I lay back blissfully and planned her crucifixion now she was already tied to a makeshift cross bar. Should I use nails? Suddenly I realised how late it had become and that I was an hour away from home and expected back at work tomorrow. I quickly untied her from the branch, tied her wrists and ankles together, removed, washed and replaced the gag, after giving her a drink of water then dragged her, naked and shivering, beneath a bramble covered upturned old fibreglass boat mould. I am not a murderer, I just put on my trousers, shirt and socks but laid the rest of my clothes over her, adding a spare coat I kept in the van to keep her warm until tomorrow night.
Today is Friday and I am at work. The weekend lies ahead and I do hope I find her still alive when I return to the quarry tonight.
story by: Tavy
Author: Tavy
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