0 comments/ 27170 views/ 1 favorites Many Secrets of Beautiful Betty Ch. 01 By: BOSTONFICTIONWRITER Secret #1 Betty was a beauty. Only, Betty had a dark side and those who knew Betty and who thought that they knew the real Betty, had no idea of who she really was behind her beautiful façade. With her confident smile, musical laugh, and quick wit, she took care never to reveal herself to anyone. She was a woman who kept a lot of secrets. Her blue-black, thick, lush hair contrasted with her porcelain, white, creamy skin and her true-blue eyes sparkled like royal sapphires. From the back, with her black, shiny, straight hair and slim figure, she appeared Asian, that is, until she turned around and spoke and you realized that she was a 100% Texan-American, southern, country girl. "Yee Haw!" All you cowboys out there know what I'm talking about. She had whiskey lips that she decorated with glistening, ruby red gloss and that, when she pouted them, made you want to give her your credit card to go shopping at the mall and not give a care how much she spent, so long as she returned to you safe, sound, sexy, and horny. "Did you have fun shopping, Betty?" "I spent a million dollars, Freddie." "I love you, Betty." Her skin so ghostly translucent and clean, her cheeks only needed a brush of blush to give her some color. She made up her eyes to make them appear larger, and they did, and her face to make her appear more mysterious, and she did. She had hypnotic eyes, eyes that you could not look away from, once she captivated you with her smile, with her stare, and with her beauty. Was she conceited? Yeah, probably, she knew she was beautiful, no doubt. Only, for those who were able to see past the manifestation that was her beauty, she was troubled, deeply disturbed, and undoubtedly tormented. Any psychiatrist, upon closer examination, would tell you that she was dangerously insane. Unfortunately, she seldom allowed anyone to get close enough to her to see the real, dark, and ugly Betty that lay hidden, but a scratch away, beneath the surface. Her eye makeup, red lips, and blush all worked together to compliment her already natural beauty. With her hair so black and her complexion so white, the palette she chose gave color to her face without making her look clownish and overly made up. If she was beautiful before, she was even more beautiful with makeup now, making those who saw her unable to remove their gaze from her fabulous face. Only, you would remove your stare from her face to stare at her Barbie doll body, a body that normally only lives in a video game, in your imagination or between the pages of your favorite men's magazine that you peruse when you are home alone in your room with your hand firmly around your cock. Yet, there she is standing before you smiling. Is she smiling at me or at you or is she smiling at her reflection in the glass behind us? What does it matter? You're drooling. God, she's so beautiful that just to see someone like this, like her in person, has given you a lifetime of memories to take you where you need to go when you are horny and alone in your room again and fantasizing about beautiful Betty. In a Wal-Mart world of super-sized women bedraggled with spoiled and unruly children and who cover their burgeoning bodies with wrinkled jeans and worn sweatshirts, Betty had a tiny 24" waist and a perfect 36C bust with complimenting 36" hips beneath her tailored dresses, had no children, and never shopped at Wal-Mart. At 5'7" without heels and 110 pounds when stepping naked from the shower, there was nothing to find fault with someone who looked so beautiful on the outside, that is, unless you knew the ugly secrets that she kept hidden on the inside. "A penny for your thoughts? The cat got your tongue? What's wrong Betty? You look so troubled, depressed, and angry. You look like you lost your best friend. Did your dog die? Why would someone so beautiful look so glum?" Every man realized it and commented on it, yet no man took the time to truly question it. Her beauty made them forget whatever else was wrong with her. She was so perfect on the outside, after all. What problems could she possibly have? Just to be with her was enough and when they were with her naked, whatever was wrong with her could be fixed or ignored. "Oh, nothing," within that five second pause passed a year of psycho therapy that, within that period of time, a psychiatrist could not bridge the troubled waters of her insanity. If only there was a doctor who possessed the key to unlock her secrets and release her misery, maybe she could have been cured. Maybe, she could have been saved. "I broke a nail," she said looking up and smiling at me with those blue eyes that melts my heart and makes me, someone who is tone deaf and has no rhythm, want to sing like the late, great Luciano Pavarotti and dance like the late, great Fred Astaire. "Betty, Betty, Betty, Elizabeth, Eliza, Beth, Liz, Liza, I love every variety of her name," I sang as I danced around the room. "I love my beautiful Betty." To be continued... Many Secrets of Beautiful Betty Ch. 02 "A penny for your thoughts? The cat got your tongue? What's wrong Betty? You look so troubled, depressed, and angry. You look like you lost your best friend. Did your dog die? Why would someone as beautiful as you look so glum?" Every man realized it and commented on it, yet no man took the time to truly question it. Her beauty made them forget whatever else was wrong with her. She was so perfect on the outside, after all. What problems could she possibly have? Just to be with her was enough and when they were with her naked, whatever was wrong with her could be fixed or ignored. "Oh, nothing," within that five second pause passed a year of psycho therapy that, within that period of time, a psychiatrist could not bridge the troubled waters of her insanity. If only there was a doctor who possessed the key to unlock her secrets and release her misery, maybe she could have been cured. Maybe, she could have been saved. "I broke a nail," she said looking up and smiling at me with those blue eyes that melts my heart and makes me, someone who is tone deaf and has no rhythm, want to sing like the late, great Luciano Pavarotti and dance like the late, great Fred Astaire. "Betty, Betty, Betty, Elizabeth, Eliza, Beth, Liz, Liza, I love every variety of her name," I sang as I danced around the room. "I love my beautiful Betty." As if her every step is practiced and rehearsed, she walks to a choreographed dance that is dangerous to those who take a lustful desire for her. Her body is musical movements to your senses and you cannot help but stare at her while hearing Frank Sinatra's voice singing the song, the Girl From Ipanema when Beautiful Betty passes by you. "Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking, and when she passes, each one she passes goes -- ah. When she walks, she's like a samba, that swings so cool and sways so gentle, that when she passes, each one she passes goes -- ooh." She was nice, sweet, personable and kind and those who saw her that day imagined being with her that night in a dream and dreamt of her every night thereafter. Such a rare beauty, no one has every seen a woman so beautiful. Her appearance was reminiscent of that natural and unpretentious beauty Ellie Mae Clampett. Wearing Daisy Duke, short shorts, a knotted up, unbuttoned blouse, and tucking her thick, lush, hair beneath a straw hat, whenever you are alone and lonely lying in bed with your hand wrapped around your cock, you imagine her stepping out from the back of a barn chewing a blade of grass. You, a tired and thirsty traveling salesman, not believing your eyes that this beauty lives here on this farm alone, needed to use the telephone to call a tow for your Buick Regal that suddenly died a mile down the road. Is she real or is she a mirage? "Hello?" You call out to her with a wave hoping that she will answer and hoping that she is real and not in your imagination. "Hi, y'all," she says in an angelic voice not unlike the melodious and expression filled tone of Dolly Parton while waving back to you. You shield your eyes from the blistering sun as you watch her perfect figure silhouetted in the backdrop of the bright light. Her tits sway with her wave and she walks closer to you. Oh, my. She smells of sweet pea, orange blossoms, and roses, only she is not wearing perfume. Suddenly, you hide your hands behind your back and quickly remove your wedding ring forgetting about and forsaking your wife, what's her face, and your son, whatever his name and your daughter, whatever is her name, too. Sadly, you see your Black Labrador Retriever, Buster, pining away at the loss of you when you fail to come home that night and every night thereafter because you have run away with beautiful Betty. You're going to miss that dog. Only, Buster awakens you with a lick that you briefly mistake as her kiss. It is a dream...the same dream that you dream every night since the first time you saw beautiful Betty at the mall or in the expensive luxury car next to you at the stoplight or at the dog park walking her Afghan hound or passing you by in a crowd on the busy street. If you are a woman, she was someone who you wanted to befriend to go shopping with at the mall or to have lunch with at that fancy eatery. You are eager to show her off to everyone that someone who looks like her is your friend. Walking with Betty gives you power, privilege, and position. No longer must you wait outside in the cold to get in that exciting new club. Men smile while holding open doors for you. Maitre 'D's give you their best table, waiters give you their best service, and parking attendants give you their best parking space. Handsome and friendly men introduce themselves to you and pick up your tab. No longer must you pay to eat or drink. They are happy to pay for you too, Betty's friend, who will say a kind word on their behalf and pass her their business card, when you are alone with her. Walking with beautiful Betty gives you status, if only by association. Nonetheless, walking with beautiful Betty adds excitement to your otherwise dull day and boring life, even if you delude yourself in imagining that all the men who pass you by are staring at and lusting over you. "Did you see that beautiful woman walking alone?" "Yeah, I did, but she was walking with another woman, I think?" "Oh, I didn't notice her." If you are a man, she was someone who you wanted to have on your arm to take everywhere and anywhere where there was a crowd to see you with her. She was the one who made you wish that you had a winning horse entered in the Kentucky Derby just to have everyone see you standing with her in the winner's circle. You imagine her wearing one of those wide brim, flowered hats, a short cocktail dress, and high heels that makes her look so much like a dark haired version of supermodel Christie Brinkley in the Billy Joel video Uptown Girl. "Did you see that guy with the beautiful broad? Either that's her father or he is loaded." "Nah, that's just Freddie. He wrote this story. He puts himself in all his stories." She was smart, too. Although she never sweated over SAT scores, crammed for mid-term and final exams or attended a boring college class, she had the gift of a keen intellect, common sense, a quick wit, and a laugh that puts you at ease, as if you were sitting on the porch of a restored pre-Civil War mansion of a plantation in Savannah on a hot summer day sipping a mint julep. "Can I get you another mint julep, Miss Betty?" Every child wished she was his or her second grade teacher. When they weren't hiding their husbands and boyfriends from her, every woman wished they were her. Every woman wanted to fix her up with their brother or friend. Every married man wanted to give up everything they had wife, children, mortgage, car payments, and credit card debt, including their dream to run away to Tahiti, to have a ticket behind home plate at game seven of the World Series, and to quarterback in the Super Bowl for a chance of having a relationship with Betty. "I thought you were picked as the quarterback for the Super Bowl?" "Nah, I gave it up to have sex with Betty." "Smart move, you lucky bastard." She could have been a beauty queen. She could have been a movie star. She could have been that mesmerizing young reporter who reported the news at 6pm and 11pm and the one who kept audiences glued to their television sets not to find out who was murdered, raped or robbed but to see more of beautiful Betty. Only, she kept secrets and her secrets ruined her chance at real happiness. After all the secretaries and white collar executives fled the city in mass exodus for their homes in the suburbs, she worked downtown. When the good church going folk are already tucked away in bed, Betty is just getting ready to appear on stage. She's the main attraction and the reason why the men drink more, lust over, and spend their money on champagne and lap dances over and again while watching Betty perform. She's a stripper and stripping is her second secret. When she dons her blonde wig, changes her makeup, and removes her clothes but for two heart-shaped pasties and a thong the width of waxed dental floss, no one would recognize beautiful Betty as tumultuous, tempestuous, tantalizing Tiffany. To be continued... Many Secrets of Beautiful Betty Ch. 03 Secret #3 Betty was a beauty. Only, she was a woman who kept a lot of secrets. She could have been a beauty queen. She could have been a movie star. She could have been that mesmerizing young reporter who reported the news at 6pm and 11pm and the one who kept audiences glued to their television sets not to find out who was murdered, raped or robbed but to see more of beautiful Betty. Only, she kept secrets and her secrets ruined her chance at real happiness and ruined her life. After all the secretaries and white collar executives fled the city in mass exodus for their homes in the suburbs, she worked downtown. When the good church going folk are already tucked away in bed, Betty is just getting ready to appear on stage. She's the main attraction and the reason why the men drink more, lust over, and spend their money on champagne and lap dances over and again while watching Betty perform. She's a stripper and stripping is her second secret. When she dons her blonde wig, changes her makeup, and removes her clothes but for two heart-shaped pasties and a thong the width of waxed dental floss, no one would recognize beautiful Betty as tumultuous, naughty, tantalizing Tiffany. The opposite personality of Beautiful Betty, TNT Tiffany is the blonde, sexy bombshell who is the star of the stage. By her stage presence, she demands that all eyes focus upon her. Generally, men see strippers in sections. Those who prefer tits, stare at her tits. Those who prefer pussies, stare at her pussy. Those who prefer asses, stare at her ass. Only, TNT Tiffany has it all. All of her pieces are so equally as good as any other that they blend into one image. The men see all of TNT Tiffany when they stare at her with their lustful desire. Every man wants her. When she could have been a beauty queen, a movie star, and an on camera reporter, why did she become a stripper? It is an easy question on the surface, a question that one could give a simple answer to if she was indeed simple, but beautiful Betty was not. She was as intelligent as she was complex and the answer to this question was as complex as she was intelligent. Every psychiatrist would respond with a different diagnosis when giving their reason for her abhorrent behavior. Every psychiatrist would want more time to evaluate her and to make her a case study. Every psychiatrist would agree to commit her. She had thought about it over the years. Why does she strip? She knows that it is wrong. She knows that she is embarrassed and ashamed by it, but the money is good. It is difficult to give it up. How else would she earn a living? She has no skills, experience or education. Her moneymaker is how she looks with and without her clothes. It wasn't until recently that she came up with an answer. Even though it disturbed her to the core to remove her clothes and have lesser men than her in every respect ogle her naked body, the process of stripping empowered her. She liked the control she had over men when getting naked and men freely gave her that control for the chance to see her naked. They never removed their eyes from her. There she was on stage, confident in her ability to tease, titillate, and tantalize. She had the men eating out of her hand, sticking money in her g-string, and begging her for a lap dance. Still, the attention she received from men was not the reason why she stripped. To her, it was just a body and no big deal. It wasn't her nakedness that bothered her. It was the leering that she found disturbing, especially by some of the stranger customers who obviously had mental problems. Although most men think that she is just a beautiful face and a magnificent body, she is so much more than that. She is the person who inhabits her body. They may think that they know her, but they don't know her. They have no idea who she is and what she is about. It was when she was watching a Dracula movie that she concluded her unofficial and off-the-cuff theory, as to why she strips. Like so many of us being exposed to the same stale genre of Hollywood's lack of imagination when being sufficiently stretched in declaring, "Let's do a sequel," after having watched so many vampire movies, she discovered why it is that she strips for a living. There are those strippers who will justify their reasons for stripping, firmly believing that it is their decision, but it is not. The reason why she strips may or may not be the same reason for someone else. Some strip, they truly believe, because they are exhibitionists and enjoy removing their clothes in a room full of men or women. Others strip because the money is good and it is the only way for them to earn a good living, which, of course, is true in so many instances. Yet, when you probe beneath the surface, you will find that most strip for the same reason. In her case and in the case of so many others, she was bitten by a vampire. Not a real vampire, of course, but a symbolic one, of sorts. Sexually abused by her father and brother, they were her modern day vampires, a violent scenario that has been part of man's nature and women's fate since man was given the power to fornicate with women, any women, at will, and women were given no choice other than to submit and endure to survive. They exposed her to the sexual road that she was doomed to take. Now, as a manifestation of what happened to her in her twisted sexual development, here she is as a stripper and stripping herself naked. What was abhorrent to her before she was raped by her father and brother, being naked and vulnerable, she freely reveals to strangers. Only, this time, there is a big difference. This time it is her free, although fated and driven, doomed will, and this time, she is in control. There is an insatiable appetite for naked women and it does not matter if the women are strangers, friends, acquaintances or relatives. If you are a woman, there are men who want to see you naked and they are willing to pay for the privilege. Then, there are those who do not want to pay and who believe that they are entitled. Some men, not all men, believe that because they are men, that because they are bigger and stronger, that if they want to see you naked, they will strip you naked. There are those who are into the violence rape, others who are into incest, and still others who are into rape and incest. Those who are into both rape and incest are the vampires. There is nothing sexual about rape. It is a violent and deplorable act against mankind. Beautiful Betty was raped by not only her drunken father but also by her drunken brother. A victim in her own house and to her own family, she had no chance at all of surviving their violent attack. In her case, although she was of the age of consent, what woman would consent to being raped by her father and brother? Is it any wonder why she is screwed up today and twisted in her thought process? Oh, just because she is beautiful doesn't mean that she can't be crazy. Just because there is a beautiful vase on your table does not mean that it cannot have a few cracks in it. In the case of the vase, it comes with age and in the case of beautiful Betty, it comes with living. Surviving the horror of her family secrets is her third secret. Now, the resulting effect is her insanity and the reason why she is onstage stripping. Some who have had similar backgrounds become prostitutes, while others become strippers, and still others are stripping prostitutes. Then, there are those who become so twisted that they take what happened to them to a new level. This is beautiful Betty's story, the things that she did, and the things that she had no control or memory of doing To be continued... Many Secrets of Beautiful Betty Ch. 04 Betty was a beauty. Only, she was a woman who kept a lot of secrets. There is nothing sexual about rape. It is a violent and deplorable act against womankind, as well as mankind. The only thing more defiling than rape is incestuous rape and beautiful Betty was raped by not only her drunken father but also by her drunken brother. A victim in her own house and of her own family, she had no chance at all of surviving their violent attack. In her case, although she was of the age of consent, what woman would consent to being raped by her father and brother? It is one thing to have consensual, incestuous sex, but it is another to have forced sex between a blood relative. Is it any wonder why she is screwed up today and twisted in her thought process? Just because she is beautiful doesn't mean that she can't be crazy. Just because there is a beautiful vase on your table does not mean that it cannot have a few cracks in it. In the case of the vase, the cracks come with age and in the case of beautiful Betty, the cracks come with living. Surviving the horror of her family secrets is her third secret. Now, the resulting effect is her insanity and the reason why she is onstage stripping. Some, who have had similar backgrounds, become prostitutes, while others become strippers and still others are stripping prostitutes. Then, there are those who become so twisted that they take what happened to them to a new level. This is beautiful Betty's story, the things that she did, and the things that she had no control or memory of doing. Those of you who have met beautiful Betty, who have seen her walking by, and who have gazed into her eyes and dreamt about spending time with her alone and naked in their beds would be surprised by her 4th secret. Surely, there are those of you who would doubt the validity of such a secret until you witness it with your own eyes. Yet, I have witnessed her 4th secret and I can assure you that it is true. Once you know her secret, it makes sense in a way. She is a product of her environment, after all, and her childhood was far from a happy one. You see, and understandably, beautiful Betty is a lesbian, has always been lesbian, and will always be lesbian. No man, other than her father and brother, has ever inserted his penis in any of her orifices. She's not into men, no longer, that is. This is not to say that all lesbians have screwed up childhoods and/or have mental problems and are insane. I know plenty of women who are well adjusted lesbians and who are from happy homes. I am only writing about what I know and what I know is the about the troubled background of beautiful Betty, a backgroung that has manifested itself in her twisted development and has been responsible for the path that she has taken. Of course, on the other hand, just as there are screwed up heterosexuals, there are screwed up lesbians, as well as gay men. We are a race of humans, after all, with all the foibles that come with being human. She was a virgin before her father and brother had their way with her. They forced her to do things that she had never done before. Although, she lived a sheltered life before their violent attack, she had dated a few men, went to her prom, and even had a boyfriend of sorts who made it to third base. She allowed him to suck her tits and finger her pussy, while she stroked his cock until he exploded a warm load of cum all over her hand and his pants. She was normal, if you want to consider someone who is extraordinarily beautiful as normal. Nonetheless, she was average in every other way, until her father and brother ruined her for any other man. It all started after she graduated high school. Her mother unexpectedly ran off with the plumber, a rotund gentleman with a wallet as equally as fat as his body. When her Mom left her Dad, Betty and her brother Billie were young. She was 11 and he was 13, an impressionable age for both. Everything was fine until, first her father and then, her brother started drinking. Their alcoholism culminated in their incestuous behavior seven years after Mom had abandoned the family. Betty was trying to decide which college to attend and it was when she asked her Dad for advice that the violence began. Between the excessive amounts of alcohol and the thoughts of her abandoning him, as did her mother, he was overwhelmed with her leaving to go to college. It was this feeling of abandonment that made him go over the edge. Who was going to take care of him, the cooking, the cleaning, and the laundry? Her brother, on the other hand, was just a testosterone filled drunken teenager who went along with what Dad was doing to his daughter. She was alone in her room when her Dad flung open her door in a drunken state. He lifted her off the bed and in one pull, tore away her dress. There she was in her bra and panties, a sight she had never shown to anyone before, but for a couple of boys who felt her up during a late night date. Dad kissed her and she pulled away screaming. Her brother entered her bedroom. She thought that he would help save her, but he helped himself. He stripped Betty naked while Daddy held her by her wrists. She was too shocked to fight back and succumbed to their violent attack. While Billie held her down, Dad, removed his pants and underwear and fucked her. He shot a load of cum in her within a few minutes and staggered out of the room leaving Billie there to do whatever was his pleasure. Billie spent the night with his sister. He fucked her. He sucked her. He had her suck his cock. It was a sexual marathon that did not stop until the early morning when he had to leave for work. Dad and Billie thought they had a good thing. They thought that they had turned Betty into their sexual slave and that she would stay and not go off to college. They thought that this new arrangement would continue once they got home, but she was gone. By some miracle, neither Billie nor her father impregnated her. At least, she was spared that trauma. Yet, there she was alone and with little money. She saw the ad in the paper for a stripper. Stripping at the strip club was the only way she knew how to make a living. When she showed up at the strip club to apply for the job, she didn't need to have any experience the way that she looked. The strip club hired her on the spot and she started striping that night. The strip club is where she met Davis. At first, because of how she was dressed and how she acted, she thought Davis was a guy. Only, Davis was a butch dike, an aggressive lesbian with a big chip on her shoulder. If you thought beautiful Betty had a problem with men and didn't like men because of what her father and brother did to her, then you ain't seen nothin' yet, until you met, Butch Davis. Davis was nearly as wide as she was tall and as unattractive as Betty was beautiful. Whoever said that opposites attract must have had these two in mind. Standing at 5'4" tall and weighing in at 250 pounds, yeah, she was fat, but she was solid. Davis had grown up on the farm and was not a stranger to hard labor. She was strong, as strong as any man, as her skill in arm wrestling would attest. Her compact and dense frame gave her considerable advantage over taller men. Accustomed to toppling over farm animals, when wrestling a man, easily, she could topple over a man who stood a foot taller than she did. No one would imagine that Betty was lesbian and that Betty was with this person. Davis had a thing for two pocket flannel shirts, denim jeans, and suspenders. She smoked big, fat cigars and drank whiskey neat. If there was an odder couple than these two, I cannot imagine it. The first time that I met Davis, I was more concerned for my safety than I was for Betty's safety. She was good to Betty. She loved Betty. Best you not make a pass at Betty while Davis was there. I've witness her take on men twice her size and not only win but beat them down and humiliate them. She was evil, vindictive, and apparently, just as deeply troubled as, it turns out, was beautiful Betty. Being lesbian and being with Davis was Betty's 4th secret, a strange secret that was only eclipsed by Betty's 5th and worst secret of all. To be continued... Many Secrets of Beautiful Betty Ch. 05 Secret #5 Betty was a beauty. Only, she was a woman who kept a lot of secrets. Let's recap her secrets, thus far, before revealing her 5th secret. Secret #1 Betty is insane. Secret #2 Betty works as a stripper. Secret #3 Betty was incestuously raped by her father and brother. Secret # 4 Betty is a lesbian. Now, looking at Betty, no one would imagine that Betty was lesbian (not that there is anything wrong with being lesbian) and moreover that Betty was with Davis, especially Davis, of all people. Besides, what does a lesbian look like anyway? They could look like anyone. Only, if you saw Betty and discovered that she was a lesbian, of course, you would imagine her partner being as beautiful as was she. Perhaps, a tall blonde with big tits or an exotic Asian lover who was her East meets West compliment. Maybe, even, a mysterious Nubian princess, who had dark eyes like shiny coal and long, sinewy arms and legs, someone named Ebony. Never would you imagine Betty being attracted to someone as physically unappealing as was Davis. Yet, opposites attract and these two could not be anymore opposite. Davis had a thing for two pocket flannel shirts, denim jeans, and suspenders. She smoked big, fat cigars and drank whiskey neat. If there was an odder couple than these two, I cannot imagine it. Yet, history is filled with weird friendships and odd looking couples, Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, George Bush and Dan Quayle, Lucille Ball and Vivian Vance, Jackie Gleason and Art Carney. Although most of my comparison's are comedy teams and I do consider Bush and Quayle a comedy team, if you were to see Davis and Betty together, you would think them funny, too. The first time that I met Davis, I was more concerned for my safety than I was for Betty's welfare. Although she was good to Betty and obviously loved Betty, best you not make a pass at Betty while Davis was present. She maintained a jealous, controlling, and manipulative eye on her. They were always together. If you saw one, you saw the other. I've witnessed Davis take on men twice her size and not only win but also beat them down and humiliate them. She was evil, vindictive, and apparently, just as deeply troubled as, it turns out, was beautiful Betty. Only, I dare say, that had Davis been a man, you would not consider her behavior abnormal, but normal. You would not blink an eye if Davis, as a man, was involved in a barroom brawl and a parking lot fracas, but because she was a woman, you were quick to derogatorily label her as a Dike, a Bull Dike. Being lesbian and being with Davis was Betty's 4th secret, a strange secret that was only eclipsed by Betty's worst secret of all, secret #5. When Betty hooked up with Davis, she told her something that she had never told another living soul. She told her about what her father and brother had done to her. To say that Davis was angry was to say that the Pope is a religious man. At the time, Davis was looking up a telephone number when Betty told her. She put down the telephone book to give her lover her full attention. She held Betty in her arms, consoled her, and wiped away her tears when Betty broke down in telling her the story. As it so happens, Davis had a similar sad story, but did not share it with Betty. Her mother, a single Mom, late at night, would drive from her farm to the city and prostitute herself to support them. Once, a man, knowing that her mother was not home and that she was alone, had returned on the pretense that he was there to see her mother, entered her room, and forced him on her. She never told her mother that the man raped her and forced her to do every sexual act imaginable. She was too ashamed of her mother prostituting and over herself, at the time, for being weak, frightened, and at the mercy of a man. Davis had just started attending the university and could not afford to live at the dorm. She depended on the financial help from her mother to help pay her tuition. Until her mother started bringing home her tricks, she did not know that she had been prostituting herself to pay her daughter's way through college. She knifed her assailant, but not fatally. She would have killed him had he not jumped up and ran out before she could stab him again. She left her home swearing that she would never again be a victim to another man. She hadn't seen or spoken with her mother in 10 years. When Betty finished telling Davis about how her father raped her and how her brother raped her numerous times during the night he was with her, she controlled her maniacal temper and comforted Betty, as best she could. Then, when Betty left the room, she ripped the yellow pages telephone book in half. I dread to think what she would have done had Betty's father and brother been in the same room and standing before her. She would have killed them with her bare hands. Davis was the one who setup the murder of Betty's father and brother. She and Betty were supposed to spend the holidays with them, Thanksgiving and Christmas, Betty told the police. Unfortunately and tragically, her father and brother met with a terrible automobile accident when the brakes failed on Dad's Buick LaSabre while descending Switchback Mountain and negotiating a hairpin curve. The car went through the guardrail and plunged 1,000 feet before hitting a huge rock and exploding in a huge fireball. There were no survivors or recognizable remains for that matter. Police found the remains of a five gallon gas can in the trunk. Davis, a skilled auto mechanic, told the police investigator that, when Betty had borrowed the car the week previous that, she had told Betty's father the brakes were in poor condition. Because she was a woman and a lesbian, he did not believe her. Only, she failed to tell the police that Betty's father and brother were already dead when their car careened off the highway road. With their bodies burnt beyond recognition, there was no way that a coroner, especially in their small town, could tell the time and/or cause of death. It was naturally assumed that they died either from the blunt trauma of the crash or from the explosion and fire after the crash. Davis had tortured them before killing them while Betty watched. They died a horrible death, while Betty ate Chinese food and laughed. With not much left to bury, Betty made the funeral arrangements, a $250 incineration, from the proceeds of her father's life insurance and from the sale of her Dad's house. To anyone who knew what her father and brother did to Betty and who knew what Davis was capable of, it was no secret that Betty and Davis conspired to murder the men who raped Betty. The incestuous rape of Betty was her 4th secret and no one knew about that, except for Betty, her father, her brother, and now Davis. With her father and brother dead, only Betty and Davis knew that horrible secret. Only, there was a second part to their secret. Davis and Betty continued their murderous ways by murdering more men. It is rare for a woman to be a serial killer and rarer still to have two women working together as serial killers. Because they were friends, lesbian lovers, and with one just as insane as the other, they were able to elude police and fly beneath their radar. Police with a sudden rash of unsolved murders, never even considered that it was a woman, or in the case of Davis and Betty women, who were responsible for the murders of men. Davis used Betty as bait to choose her victim. The angry one, Davis was the murderer and beautiful Betty was her accomplice. For someone who looked as beautiful as did Betty, it was easy for her to lure her victim and once she had him alone, Davis showed them her rage. Every man wanted to bed beautiful Betty and this murdering duo had a list of the men who they wanted to eliminate. To be continued...