girl with hand in panties

Fiction Relay – Part 10 : The Bad Angel

girl with hand in panties


Forming part 10 of the Fiction RelayContent Warning – contains disturbing themes of blood play, emotional manipulation and murder. For a summary of the plot so far, and links to ALL the earlier episodes follow this link. I’m following on from Liz Black‘s Part 9 – Such a Sweet Girl




Carla felt frustrated as she dressed. She wished Pete hadn’t rushed off. Her body hummed with a low level buzz, like a finely tuned instrument, telling her she could climax several more times. Fastening her bra made her nipples harden behind the bright red lace, so when she slipped on a cowl neck blouse, also fire engine red, her excitement was evident. This was not good, as she was meeting Ken, but was determined to extricate herself from his web. Nowadays Carla preferred to be puppet master rather than puppet, but he’d always had a hold over her …


“Have you been a good girl Carla?” Ken’s sickly sweet words carried a menacing undertone, making Carla bite her lip and press her knees together.

“Yes,” she breathed into the phone, glad nobody was home to overhear the baby voice she still used around him.

“I know you’ve kept our deal a secret,” 

Her heart thudded; bad memories curdled with her lust, so she shook her head as if to lose them from her brain.

“You won’t tell, because people would realise you’re the bad angel, right?”

“I’m the bad angel,” she responded, slipping her hands inside her knickers where she was sticky and wet.

“Tell me how bad. Are you touching yourself now?”

Damn, he seemed to see into her soul. Her fascination for Ken held her pinned like a butterfly in a botanist’s catalogue of species.

“Yes,” her fingers were slippery as she stroked.

“I like that, tell me what game you want to play.”

“It’s dirty,” Carla moved her hand slowly as she talked, swirling fingers in the puddle of juice which gathered between her thighs.

“I want to paint you with blood again,” Ken’s voice was ragged. “That time with Susie was so hot.”

Pictures flashed in Carla’s mind: lying beside Susie whose make-up streaked eyes were closed. Kissing her friend’s soft, unresponsive lips and stroking her blood matted hair. Ken daubing her nipples with Susie’s red fluid before licking them sensuously. The grass at the riverbank which tickled her back as Ken repeatedly posed her and Susie with limbs entwined for his photographs. Feeling confused and jealous when he later sent her away so he could play with Susie alone. 

Carla’s body throbbed at the memories, and pleasure built. Ken’s silky words and her fingers working in tandem coaxed out a climax, which left her shuddering and ashamed.

“Did you come? I know you did,” his voice had become harsh with lust. “Wipe your fingers on your knickers, then slip them off.”

Carla knew the drill well enough, her soiled panties always belonged to Ken, they were his prize. As he made arrangements to meet up to claim them, she slipped them off her bare legs. Guiltily she dropped them into a pocket of her raincoat. A whiff of their musky fragrance gave her a stab of shame, so she pushed their plain white fabric out of sight. 

He’d made her and Susie show him their knickers when she’d joined them that summer’s day at the river. Ken had curled his lip and tutted at the gaudy pink fabric of hers. He’d been far more interested in Susie’s plain white panties. 

“Good girl,” he’d breathed.

Later, Carla had been unable to resist hanging around to spy – what  did Ken want to do with Susie? From behind the curtain of the willow’s leaves she’d watched her friend struggle against the older boy. 

Standing over Susie’s prone body he had removed Susie’s knickers and bra with exaggerated reverence. He held the pieces of white underwear to his nose, savouring traces of her musk mingled with cheap lavender, before folding them safely away. That’s when Carla learned an important lesson, Ken liked his bad angels to dress innocently.


She wasn’t dressing innocently today, wouldn’t feed into his kinky fantasies, because she recognised their twist now. Her dealings with Ken had shaped her in many ways, one being to flaunt her sexuality at others via tight clothes in brash colours. Red was her lucky charm. Ken kept his big hands to himself if she dressed like a tart, so Carla’s weapons were spike heels and a leather jacket, today worn over the crimson blouse.

Sitting on the park bench, she lit another cigarette and checked her watch fretfully, Ken was never normally late. She wondered how Ellie and Steve were getting on. It hadn’t taken much to reinforce her friend’s suspicions about her fiance once Ellie had developed the pictures. The one which seemed to show Steve spying on her friend with Susie from the cover of the trees had sealed his fate. 

That smug bastard Steve didn’t deserve Ellie, she was better off dancing with Carla on Friday and Saturday nights, they’d have their pick of the guys at the club. Dressed up to the nines, she and Ellie had been dick magnets in the past: didn’t pay for a drink all night, barely remembered who they’d hooked up with the next morning. Carla had continued with a string of faceless fucks once Ellie moved in with Steve, who she considered arrogant and controlling. But she missed her partner in crime. Ellie’s innocence had drawn the lads but she steadfastly declined to take things further than an under-clothes fumble. Carla was the one who took them home and eased the pressure of their blue balls. Ellie was not so innocent now. Having always confided in Carla, she’d become queen of the blow job and swallow, thanks to tips from her more experienced friend.

Flicking her cigarette butt into the dewy grass, Carla was forced to conclude Ken wasn’t coming. Fuck him! She had been sure she was ready to take the upper hand, to put an end to his years of manipulation. 

She squinted in the direction of the park gate where she saw the shambling figure of Bill. It was strange to see him nowadays, walking without Boo. The dog had been his constant companion, his shadow. She’d always had a soft spot for the shaggy dog and his owner.

“Hey Bill,” she smiled as he drew nearer. She stood and smoothed her jeans down her slim legs.

“Hello,” he greeted her with a smile, which didn’t look as if he remembered her.

“It’s Carla. I used to play with Ellie and Susie.”

He studied her face, then broke into a wide grin, Bill’s innocence gave him a beautiful smile, although his personal grooming was a little lacking. Today he was wearing cargo pants and a t-shirt with Goofy on the front. His old parka was stained with grease and mud. Bill was carrying a plastic bag, which he held to his chest as if someone might snatch it.

“Hello Carla. I know Ellie, she played ball with Boo-boo.” A tinge of pain flashed across his face. “I remember Susie too.” Bill nodded emphatically and patted the plastic bag.

Puzzled, Carla stepped a little closer. “What’ve you got there Bill?”

“Important things. Things to help the police.”

A tickle of fear awoke, deep in her belly. Some secrets didn’t need to be uncovered. Some truths were better off hidden. Carla needed to know what Bill had found.

“Is it something you found when you were clearing up rubbish?” Everybody knew Bill picked up trash after Boo-boo got sick from choking on something he ate. She spoke in a gentle, persuasive way, knowing it was vital to win his confidence.

Bill nodded. “Helping the police is important.” 

His words came out like a question and she remembered that, initially he was the prime suspect as Susie’s killer. That must have been tough, especially for someone like Bill who did not truly comprehend the wickedness in the world.

“It is important Bill. But the police get angry if you waste their time.” 

“I don’t want to make the police angry.”

“No, of course not. Do you want to show me first? We can decide together if what you’ve got is important.”

Bill nodded eagerly, so Carla guided him to sit on the park bench she’d recently vacated. He still held the bag tightly, but she persuaded him to dip his hand inside and bring out what he’d found.  In grubby fingers, Bill held plane tickets for a nordic airline which no longer existed. Carla’s mind raced, what could this mean?

“Where did you find these?”

His open expression shuttered. “I didn’t steal them.”

“Of course you didn’t. They’re very pretty.” She was persuasive. “Were they in the park?”

“Not in the park, in the alley. Boo-boo found them.”

“Clever Boo-boo. They might be important. Which alley Bill?” It was like pulling teeth, but she must be patient.

“Behind Susie’s house. I thought they were stickers cos of this shiny bit.” 

He poked a dirt encrusted fingernail at the hologram on the ticket which was valid for August 1995. 

Carla coaxed the thin card from his hand and read Susie’s name printed, with the destination of Oslo. Her mind whirled with the possibilities, why would her friend be going to Norway? Could she have kept such an exciting trip secret? Absolutely possible, Carla concluded. Susie had also never shared with her and Ellie the name of the older lad she was seeing.

She felt her body sag with relief that Bill’s discovery in no way incriminated her or the game she and Ken had played with Susie that fateful summer’s day. However, she wasn’t as keen as Bill to get this evidence to the police and find out what light it shed on the unsolved mystery, which had hung over her all these years.

[To be continuedI’ve passed the baton to Sleepless in Erotica

Part 11 – Let Fate Decide]

Story submitted for #WickedWednesday. The theme this week is World Map so why not sail over and see what others have linked up!
Header image courtesy of Pixabay


22 thoughts on “Fiction Relay – Part 10 : The Bad Angel”

    1. I muddied some bits up as surely as the police did on the river bank Marie! And yet I’ve revealed a little too I think.

  1. Great job here and brave writing too – Now we just need to find out if anyone else was involved or the bruises that were seen in the detectives report from part three came from Carla being at the scene as well.

    1. Thanks May, I did allow myself to go pretty dark, as you see from my comment to Liz I’ve been immersing myself in a fair bit of crime themed stuff recently.

    1. Wow! Thank you Liz, that means a lot. I have watched a programme about a real serial killer and read a fictional book about a child who was one very recently … could you tell?!

  2. Brilliantly assured writing Posy. So matter of fact. So chilling. I feel so comfortable as I immerse myself in your work. I just didn’t want this episode to end. Bravo!

  3. Pingback: Farewell to the Fabulous Fiction Relay - SEX MATTERS

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