A Typical Night_The following story is a work of fiction. Vincent Kartheiser and any celebrities presented here are real people, but they are treated as characters in this story. The text in no way implies any knowledge of the celebrities' true sexuality or actions, and it is not intended to suggest that the celebrities are straight, bisexual, or homosexual. This is from my imagination only; the events depicted here are fictional and should not be construed as fact. This story depicts explicit language and sexual situations involving minors. If you are underage in your location, please do not read._ **
THE OTHER SIDE OF VINCENT KARTHEISER
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A Typical Night
by hottcarter1987
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It was late, and it was hot--the kind of mid-June night when sweat clung to your skin and made your clothes smell. The streets stank of heat and humidity, and you could see the steam rise off the pavement almost in clouds. I looked at my watch and saw that it was after three o'clock in the morning. I always was a night owl, but even I liked to be in bed by now. I'd already been waiting two hours, but my patience was growin' real fuckin' thin. I lit my fourth cigar of the evening and nervously shifted myself from a standing position to a sitting one `cause my fuckin' feet had started to ache. I sat and smoked silently while watchin' the sidewalk, waitin' for what I came for.
My name's Vincent Kartheiser, but all my buds call me Vinnie, which I used to hate when I was younger but not so much now. I'm an actor, which means I get paid a shitload of money to pretend to be someone else on camera. Helluva life, but it pays the bills, and I've gotten good at it. Been in some good movies, some shitty movies; some good TV, some bad. Right now, I star on a cable series, Mad Men, which had just went on hiatus, and it's an alright gig. But until filming starts in a couple of months, I get to engage full-time in my favorite hobby, which brought me out into the sleazy side of Los Angeles that night.
You see, I'm a pedophile. I love makin' it with kids--the younger, the better. And, I like it rough. To nearly everyone else around me, I'm an edgy sort of person, always doing things on the fringe. When I'm not filming my show, I grow my hair as long as it'll get, wear a beard and moustache, smoke like a freight train, and drink like a fish. But all anyone thinks is that's just me bein' fuckin' me. Most don't know that I have an itch deep inside for young bodies, male or female, underneath me, writhing around as I take them and own them and use them for my sexual pleasure. It started years ago when I was fucked up at a party and forced a little 8-year-old girl into giving me a blowjob. When I was done with her, something in my brain was so charged that I started seeking out other kids, boys as well, to satisfy the urge that had developed. This particular night was an extension of my perverted needs.
My cell phone vibrated in my leather pants. When I'm on the prowl, I wear nothing but black leather. I wore skin-tight pants, matching motorcycle jacket, gloves, and boots. No shirt underneath and no underwear, either--gets in the fuckin' way. I pulled out the cell phone and answered, "Yeah."
"You think she's gonna show, Vinnie?" the voice came from the other end.
I took a drag of my stogie and replied, "Fuck, I don't know, man. I've seen her here the last four nights. Hope nothin' happened to her. She was one prime piece of pussy."
"How long do we wait?"
"I dunno, dude. A little longer. I'll call ya when I think we should go." I hung up the phone. The guy on the other end is my good friend and partner, David Gallagher. He's an actor, too, and you might know him from the TV show, 7th Heaven. He's younger than me, but he shares my perverted habit, so we've become somewhat of a team at this. Usually, David waits at my secret place where I take these young things and joins in my breakin' `em in, but this particular time he wanted to see what a "typical" night on the hunt was. I heard his nervousness in his voice on the phone, but I knew he'd carry through. To be sure, it sure was much fuckin' easier havin' someone backing me, `cause it made the snatch easier.
I finished my cigar and backed up into the shadows of the alley. I was next to a liquor store on this street where I had first spotted the little bitch we were after. `Course, I had to make sure she would frequent this street, so I'd camped out every night most of the week, and she was always there. She always wore the same clothes--a dirty, torn denim jacket, a faded dress, dirty socks, and tennis shoes. If she had a home, she sure didn't stay there at night. I liked the dress, especially, `cause it was easier to get to the prize. Girls in tight jeans are fuckin' hot, but getting them off when you're horny as a motherfucker gets frustrating. A skirt or dress, now, if you're horny enough, only needs to be lifted to get that pussy.
Within minutes after I got off the phone with David, my hot little girl showed up. She was lookin' through the trash cans several yards to my left, obviously tryin' to find somethin' to eat. I rubbed my cock through my leather pants, eager to give her some of my male sausage to dine on. I shrunk further into the darkness so that she'd have no hint of my presence. She passed by without acknowledging me, and I peeked around the corner of the building to see her headed in David's direction. He was waiting at the end of the corner, while I was across from the non-descript van I used on occasions like this. When she got halfway down the sidewalk, I slipped quickly to the van and started it. It was a little noisy, but the girl wouldn't hear or take notice of it. It was important to have the damn thing runnin' so that the snatch would be quick. I lit another cigar and dialed up David. "Yo, man, the bitch is closin' in on ya. Do it."
"You got your shit ready?"
"Fuck, yeah," I answered. I reached in my jacket pocket to grip the small bottle of chloroform and the rag I stashed there before coming. I hung up and started to quickly follow the girl.
David stepped around the corner smoking a cigarette. He looked hot as shit in his brown leather trench coat, black gloves, black wife beater, tight jeans, and cowboy boots. His oversized belt buckle glimmered in the light from the street lamps. He glanced around, saw no one but me comin' up quickly, and blew out some smoke. He stepped up in front of the girl and said, "Hey, little girl, I'm lost."
She stopped walkin' and looked up at him. A small breeze blew her hair around her small head. "Where ya headed?" she asked.
David was playin' it so fuckin' cool. "I'm lookin' for a phone. My car broke down. All the shops are closed. You know where there's a pay phone?"
Silently, I closed in on my prey. I pulled out the chloroform and drenched the rag with it. I puffed my cigar deeply and reached the girl. David glanced quickly at me, I nodded, and he grabbed her arms, holding them tightly against her hips. She opened her mouth to scream, and I grabbed her throat with one hand and slapped the cloth over her mouth and nose, pressing it hard. She struggled, but David held her tight, grinning with his cigarette between his lips. I held on to her tightly until her preteen body relaxed and her blue eyes rolled back in their sockets. When the lids closed, I ordered David to get the van. He ran down the street and backed it up to where I was. I kept the cloth over the girl's face so she'd breathe more of the shit and keep her out longer. David got out of the van and opened the doors in the back. "Need help getting her in?" he asked.
"Naw, man," I answered. "She don't weigh more'n a fart. You drive the minute I close the doors." He went up to the front, and I slung the limp body into the back and stepped in. When the doors were shut, David hit the gas, and we were off. I squatted over the girl and grabbed the rope I had put in the van before leavin' and tied her wrists together behind her back. I also tied her ankles together and pulled a red handkerchief out of another pocket and gagged her mouth tightly. I then sat back on my heels and took a long drag of my cigar. The bitch looked so fuckin' hot bound and gagged like that. I couldn't resist snaking a finger up her dress to her little twat. I pushed in and felt the tightness wrap around my middle digit. I puffed my stogie and called up to David. "Yo, man, I think she's a virgin."
"Hot damn," he said back. "Been a long fuckin' time since I porked a virgin. This is gonna be hot!" I crawled up to the cab and sat in the passenger's seat while he drove. He lit another cigarette and said, "So that's what a typical night with Vincent Kartheiser's like. Fuck! My dick nearly popped outta my fuckin' jeans when you grabbed her. I can't wait to rape that little cunt of hers."
I merely smiled and smoked my cigar. Rubbin' my own piece of meat bulgin' in my crotch, I thought about what we'd do to the girl, too, as we drove on into the night.