Richard Mallory locked the door to his Clearwater electronics shop. He was closing earlier than usual, but it seemed to be that way lately. Business had been slowing down — practically stopping all together — ever since the corporate RadioShack began putting up shops around the Florida area. He knew he couldn’t compete; it was only a matter of time.
Mallory forced the thought from his mind. He remembered the last time he drove his beige Cadillac to Daytona Beach, how much fun he had, and the girls he spent his nights with. It was finally the weekend and there was only one thing he really craved. Rough sex. Not the consensual, ‘safe word’ type of rough sex, either. No, Richard Mallory liked to dominate. He needed to be in control. Other things in his life he couldn’t control: his dwindling finances, his failing electronics shop, his multiple arrest for being a sexual predator. The thought of raping a helpless dame excited him. He would be in control.
Police know that on December 1st, 1989, Richard Mallory closed his shop early and drove to Daytona Beach. They found his beautiful beige Cadillac abandoned off Highway 1. It was parked close to where they found his carcass; his pants were pulled down and his chest was peppered with bullets.
Richard Mallory never made it to Daytona Beach on that December weekend. He had slowed down to ogle a girl walking on Highway 1 with an extended thumb. The hitchhiking female had straggly blonde hair, thin lips, and a cute button nose. She looked rather innocent, except that the cut-off booty shorts she wore showcased her fantastic long legs. Her tee was wet from an all-day sweat; the stains had circled around her perky tits. She seemed vulnerable and Mallory liked what he saw.
The horny man behind the wheel couldn’t have known that he was picking up his soon-to-be executioner, a hitchhiking damsel of death that would soon be arrested — and famous — for the murder of seven ‘Johns’. In fact, riding in the car with Mallory, even she didn’t know she would become a bloodthirsty slayer of men, since Richard Mallory would be her first kill.
Her own unedited words regarding Richard Mallory,
“I was cold and wet. Just trying to hitch a ride and this guy goes past, stops and comes back. He was ok at first… he had a bottle of vodka then we stopped for beers at a gas station, he got doritos [sic] and stuff. Sure, he just chatted.”
Both Richard and his prize seemed to find common ground quickly. She needed money, and he sought rough sex. The two negotiated.
‘I thought he was kind of funny. To start with, the fucker was kind of cute.’ [sic] ‘My rates were easy to understand, even for a drunk,’ ‘Head for $30; $35 straight; $40 for 50/50 [half oral/half vaginal penetration]; $100 an hour.’
Mallory agreed to a blow job for $30 — when his body was found, his jeans were pulled down and still unzipped. There was a sperm stain around the zipper from when he ejaculated, most likely prematurely, and she wasn’t paid to swallow it. This unforgivable act may have set the spent man off, or perhaps he felt swindled by such a quick turnaround.
Either way, Mallory had a change of heart. Not only would he refuse to pay for his previous suck, but he also wanted something else. Richard Mallory wanted to show this dumb bitch that he was in control, and to do that, he needed to get her tied up.
“We crossed a river towards Daytona Beach. He pulled off the road, up a track and into woods. We were in the front seats. I stripped and [sic] we drank more beer, smoked and kissed for a while. Just stuff. He was limp and he got pissed with me. He hit me. Wanted to fuck me with his limp dick. I gave him a blowjob and then he went fucking crazy. Like a crazy man. Slapped me some and held me down, and fuck you, man, no motherfucker does that to me. He was going to rape me.”
Mallory tied her hands to the steering wheel, and then he forced a blunt object — most likely a flashlight — into her anus. She deserved it, he thought.
Now he could fulfill his darkest desires; he could choke her, cut her, beat her, fuck her, and even kill her if he felt the urge. And if he did allow this worthless mouth-breather to live? Would the cops even care? Or would they too, also think she deserved it? Plus, he knew that hitchhiking whores know best to keep their fucking mouths shut, lest they get booked for hooking.
His “limp dick” was now fully hard; her constant screaming must have excited it. They were all alone; he had all day; and, more importantly, HE was in control.
The first slug she fired sailed through Mallory’s upper left arm, and he began moaning in pain.
How did she break free from the rope binding her hands to the steering wheel?
Where did she get a revolver?
How did he not notice?
He was only gone for a minute to the trunk to locate the tire iron he kept under his spare, and now he stared dumbstruck as the blood oozed from his left tricep muscle. He wondered how he had so quickly lost control.
The hitchhiking hooker pulled the trigger twice more, and then another two, for the grand total of five. As each round exploded out of the metal shaft a thunder echoed through the dense woods. Snot ran down her nose.
She stood up, still pointing the gun like a frenzied psychopath. Nothing else mattered at this moment. She wouldn’t let her guard down like that worthless fuck did.
Police knew by entrance wounds that Richard Mallory’s killer was no sharpshooter. In fact, if she had been any further than the three feet that she was, her bullets would have missed him completely.
But she didn’t need to be an expert shooter. She had five bullets and knew that one of those could do the trick. Those are pretty good odds, and she was feeling lucky. The winning shot went through both lungs; penetrating the left, bouncing off the rib bones, and finding its home, lodged firmly in the right. Blood filled up his insides as he stood there, pants down, looking as stupid as ever. The dying man coughed and wheezed as Aileen Wuornos watched in awe for several minutes.
Finally, she was in control.
Aileen Wuornos was an American prostitute turned serial killer who was responsible for seven murders in Florida from late 1989 to 1990. Richard Mallory was her first victim, who raped her, however, not all of Aileen’s victims did, such as Charles “Dick” Humphreys, a retired Air Force major, and Florida police chief. His former cohorts found his body near Suwannee County on September 12th, 1990, and it is believed he picked up Wuornos — like other hitchhiking women in the past — because he didn’t like the idea of a woman being vulnerable. He was a family man, married and faithful.
Wuornos was placed on death row where she was put to death by lethal injection. Charlize Theron played Aileen in the award-winning movie Monster in 2003.