CUNTROL By Llabmik
Chapter 1 - Pick A Bitch
He liked to think of himself as the Elevator Rapist because that's where
he scooped all his victims. He didn't think the police had a name for him
because he was a tidy man and, as far as he knew, none of his victims had
surfaced.
It was a bright sunny day and Fred was on a cunt hunt. Fred liked his
victims to select themselves. The elevator repairman had scoped out a few of the
early rising, office working babes. It was just a question of getting one to
volunteer.
Noontime brought his prey out to feed and shop. Fred lounged on the park
bench outside the office tower, waiting for one of his candidates to take her
lunch break. He had taken a few days off work for the hunt.
Candidate number one strode briskly out of the office building. Fred was
dressed in a bright plaid suit with a big billed cap pulled low over his eyes,
obscuring his face almost completely. He looked like a goof. He walked up to the
leggy, chestnut haired beauty.
"Excuse me? Can you please direct me to the Sporting Hall Of Fame? I
know it's around here somewhere!"
Patrice smiled at him warmly. She pointed a carefully lacquered
fingernail at the subway entrance.
"Just hop on the subway and go one stop north. It's right by the Jane
Street exit."
He bobbed his head gratefully.
"Thank you, ma'am!"
He obligingly descended the stairs to the subway, waited a minute and
then came back up to resume his quest.
Candidate number two stepped out of the building. A big-chested, raven
haired beauty, Bobbi arched a sceptical eyebrow at his bright plaid ensemble
complete with stupid looking hat as he stepped up to pop her the question.
People remembered the clownish outfit. They didn't pay any attention to the man
inside it.
Despite all this, Bobbi gave him a friendly smile as she directed him to
the Sporting Hall Of Fame. She even walked with him partway to the subway
entrance to make sure that he got there and went over her simple directions
twice more as she did so. Although she was clearly in serious doubt about the
fashion-challenged man's intelligence, she was courteous and warm, wishing him
well as he descended the stairs.
He got back to his post just as the elevator disgorged Karen, candidate
number three. Stepping out the front door of the office tower, the willowy blond
glanced at him disdainfully like he were some sort of slimy, poisonous toad and
then affected not to see him as he stepped up and tried to engage her attention.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
Karen turned and walked away. He ran after her and lightly touched her
arm to get her attention.
"Excuse me, ma'am? I wonder if you could direct me..."
Her voice was low and venomous.
"Fuck off, creep! Don't you get it? I don't talk to retards! If you
touch me again, I'll call a cop!"
She stared at him haughtily, curled her lip and strode off, her high
heels clicking angrily on the sidewalk. Fred smiled after her.
Bingo.
