 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 5.
Multiple Rapes.
Page 5-1.
I'd had them several hours by now, all bunched up in the living room, tied with the nylon loop around their necks and all but Fawcett's legs still tied off at the ankles.
They all had to piss, which became too bad for them, such a basic human function, but it wasn't surprising considering the various frights and abuses they'd already endured and considering that women always have to piss. They can't pass a public toilet, or otherwise, where they don't want to drop their panties. Something about small bladders, or the like, when I think they just like to get their cunts wet to handle themselves. Give themselves a little jiggy jiggy when they wipe, a little finger slide and bop.
Anyhow, I knew I should let them go piss, piss and piss.
I pulled up a chair and just sat there looking at them, taking the lovely picture all in and assessing what I had done to them and how much improved they now looked. I was fucking renovating them, sort of re-modelling the models, you could say.
Fawcett really was the worst off. Her tits were the smallest so when I bashed her (twice) it hurt more, had done more damage to her underlying tissue, which as I said in chapter four, was my full intent, to split and to crush her.
Her dress was full up above her hips still and even though she had the undies on, I'd cum in, her cunt was somehow more exposed, more visible and she really wanted to hide it. She knew, seeing it turned me on. I could see it better, probably because her legs were untied and she couldn't get comfortable for any length of time and could move them (much more than the other two) to try to relieve the discomfort and even some pain. Her circulation was getting cut off (but the others were worse, and I had to watch that). She knew, and of course, I'd been full inside her, inside it, scraped her cervix and she really hated me for it. If she wanted to kill me before, and there was no doubt of that, now she wanted to murder me with extreme prejudice, in the first degree. She wanted to dismember me and remove my member.
Page 5-2.
She also noticed every time I stared right into her crotch, it was like I was likely to go for it again. When I glared at it she cringed, but just inside not showing it. But I knew and she knew.
Her dress top was cut down the front and her bra still on but hiding almost nothing. Her nipples had softened and gone down but they were still beautifully visible. Her areola was tight, a small little circle about a quarter inch wide and she crinkled nicely when I made her do it or it happened involuntarily. Her dress also had a jagged tear to the side and was beyond repair.
She would become that too.
Her face was really tear stained and all of her make up gone by now. Her long blond hair was well matted.
She was a fucking beautiful mess of quivering fear and righteous indignation. How dare I assault her like I had. How dare I probe her with my greedy fingers and then push them into her mouth, if I hadn't licked them first myself.
She was a perfect picture of a rape victim who had, only sort of, been finger fucked. Not much of a rape by my standards.
And I would bring her up to standard and set some new ones, some milestones, you might say.
Smith was another matter.
She just looked so sad and almost lonely.
Desolate and forsaken.
God had forsaked her but I hadn't.
She wasn't all messed up like Fawcett. Oh, her hair was mussed and tangled a bit from when I'd pulled it so hard (some came out) and her incredible face was tear stained and flushed too, but not as nicely as Fawcett's. Her white silk blouse and sports bra underneath were pretty well much the way they should be. Her nipples still bumped a little bit through but they'd gone soft by now too. What was outstanding was how she kept trying to twist her side to relieve the pain in the side of her punched breast. She kept pulling the fabric tight over her contours and it wasn't a good idea in front of my lecherous stare. I'd almost lost it before, to go fuck her and when I saw this it stirred me pretty good again to go for it and not wait. She still was my favorite and I wanted to do her special - extra mean and more nasty.
Page 5-3.
She had on capri pants, sort of slacks. They were light powder blue and they showed the exact contours of her ass, and the outline of her briefs. The binding at her ankles had loosened off a bit so her circulation wasn't a big problem but it was still plenty uncomfortable and she kept shifting positions which is when her blouse pulled tight over her tits. Her face was fantastic as ever. I really wanted to stick my cock in her mouth and up her nose. Press my fingers into her eyes and twist on her head and her throat like I was choking her.
She was in for the worst of it.
Ladd was somewhat in the middle. She had on a skirt but it hadn't ridden up enough for me to see her panties, or her twat area at all. I didn't know what she had on or what color they were but, the same as Smith, it was pulled tight enough I knew she had some on. Didn't these beautiful, accomplished women know panty lines were a fashion error? What was wrong with them, exciting me like that? Asking for it. That's what they were doing, just fucking asking for a royal fucking.
Her chest was a picture. A sight to behold that should have been in a sex gallery.
The pliers were fairly heavy (for a bra to hold) and pulled her bra and tit down. It's hard to describe since it looked so unnatural but erotic. How did she like the steel lying cross her nipple? I wondered.
Her head was sort of lolled to the side and she was the only one still crying softly. I took her to be the weakest of the three based on her previous mental episodes. Still I guess she might have more intuition and was sobbing from what she sensed the pliers would be up to, what they'd be used for and where on her. Her hair wasn't much of a mess and her face looked, overall, better; cleaner than the others.
She hadn't been tit punched so looked almost normal.
Page 5-4.
All in all, they were a spectacular sight. I moved my chair around to see them from different angles, different perspectives and I must say I'd done a right fine job of roughing them up, up until now and, of course, it'd only get better and more.
After about half an hour of the studying, I asked, 'Anyone need the bathroom?'
They all looked at me like I was a choir master. I was facing Smith and the other two twisted their heads around to look. All three lovely faces waiting to relieve their bladders. So touching and basic. What a fiasco it would turn out to be for them.
'Yes. Please. Oh, please.' They all said it together. It was sweet and funny to hear and to watch. It involved their cunts. Didn't they know I knew it involved their cunts?
'I figured as much. I'm surprised you haven't pissed yourselves by now after all that's happened'
They looked a bit uncomfortable but still hopeful. I was showing a sign of civility, concern for them, wasn't I?
'Has anyone pissed herself?' I asked.
They sort of shook their heads in union to affirm 'no'.
'You're sure no one did a dribble or two?'
Now they didn't like me at all, how and what I was saying.
'Please just let us go.' Smith pleaded. 'We all have to go.'
'I'll bet you do. So I will. I will but I want to be sure you're not lying, none of you is lying and didn't let a little squirt get out.'
This was unconscionable. How could I taunt them about their needing to urinate, about their piss processes? Now they really didn't like what I was saying, or know just what I was getting at but they were instinctively pretty sure it had something, not nice, to do with their twats.
I looked at them all powerful.
Like a restaurant food inspector.
'So I have to check.'
Page 5-5.
'No please. Just let us go. We already told you.' Fawcett asserted.
'If I don't check you, you don't get to go. It's as simple as that.' I gloated and held it over them.
Geeze, they were angry at me, you could say really pissed, or was that not-pissed. But what could they do? If I didn't examine their crotches they didn't get to go. That was plain mean and uncivilized and degrading and they knew I knew it and seemed to relish it.
'I'm going to help you all stand up. It's going to be tricky tied together like you are but that's how it has to be for now.'
I moved in close and put one hand on Smith's face to the side and the other on Ladd's. I hooked my hands to the back of their heads and started to pull up on their skulls. They sort of struggled and choked and couldn't get their efforts coordinated. I took hold of the cord around their three necks and pulled up hard on it. It dug in under their chins and pretty well choked them even more. This wasn't going to be all that easy and I loved it. I tried grabbing Smith under her arm pits to pull her up and she cried out in pain from what it did to her punched tit. I didn't care about that at all, in fact I loved it more. I just couldn't really get them up that way either.
I could see what I had to do.
I cut the ankle ties on Smith and Ladd. They were so relieved and both spread their legs and sort of moved them about extra. It was turning me on and I wanted to butt fuck them both right then.
They saw my look, the look, and stopped wiggling.
'OK, lady cunts, here's what you have to do. All of you sit still with your knees up.'
They all did and I went around and positioned their feet at about the same distance, two feet away from their asses.
I could see Fawcett's crotch and I now knew Ladd had on grey silk briefs (that I wanted to chew right off her) and considerable labia (that I wanted to chew right off her).
Page 5-6.
'Now what you have to do is all push up with your legs at once. All push the same way to straighten your legs and you'll stand up together.'
(It sure sounded good in theory.)
They looked at me scared but seemed to understand.
'OK, on the count of three, do as I said.'
They readied themselves.
'One...Two...Three.'
It was just fucking great. One of the best spectacles I'd ever, ever seen. Even better than the pile up I'd done with them earlier. They all pushed together, using each other's back to rise up and were half way there when Smith's legs gave out.
Well, what a tumble.
They all fell to the floor, but not in a heap. All spread out but still tied together by the neck, in one loop, and their hands bound behind their backs.
They were squirming and yelling and very much choking each other.
It was spectacular.
Like a three ring cunt and pony circus.
I couldn't believe the commotion.
Their legs look like an octopus's tentacles, all waving and swaying and kicking. And kicking each other.
They were screaming and gagging and coughing.
They were like a bucket of bait worms.
Ladd was twisted the worst and it looked like her air was cut right off.
I had to get in there. Get into the wiggling pile.
Ladd's legs were kicking, like death throws, and she was trying to slide along on her side to get the pressure off her throat.
She wasn't doing a very good job.
Her face was turning a lovely redish purple and was puffing up, swelling up. Hey eyes were almost bulged.
Her mouth was twisted and contorted and I wanted to kiss her.
I grabbed on to her hair and yanked. I didn't pull, I yanked her along enough that she could breath.
She coughed and gasped but still twisted to the side, which started her choking again.
Page 5-7.
I got right over her and reached down and grabbed her by both tits and pulled her up and forward to keep the line from tightening more on her neck. It loosened a bit. For now she was OK and barely noticed what I'd used (of hers) for handles.
But now Smith was turned to the side and the cord was cutting into her under her ear and chin.
Her beautiful face contorted.
She kept twisting and her legs, in her tight capris, were kicking about sometimes high in the air.
Her crotch even spread wide.
My fist almost smashed into her.
Fuck.
Fuck, oh fuck.
I grabbed on to her ankle of one leg and then onto her leg above the knee.
She kept straining and struggling and the neck line was almost cutting into her and it was certainly cutting off her air.
I needed a better grip so I got her right under her ass which was twisting high up and to keep her from sliding side ways, I grabbed her full in the crotch with my other hand.
I almost stopped to fuck her right then.
I squeezed her cunt hard to steady her and to hurt her.
She cried out, but it was garbled, 'No. Don't. Help me. I can't breath. No. No Don't.'
She knew what I'd grabbed and it wasn't good (for her).
I pushed her farther forward and now the tension was enough off her neck she got air, but it all still hurt like stink.
By now, Ladd was getting in trouble again but Fawcett was worse.
She (Fawcett) had gotten herself turned around so that the cord was crushing her wind pipe. She was pretty well set to pass out.
Her legs were spread wide in the air, her undies right to my face and I had to get her to stop struggling. She was going to crush her own larynx.
I couldn't resist. I smashed my elbow down into her exposed labia.
Page 5-8.
She shrieked and passed out cold.
Now it wasn't so bad. I grabbed her by the crotch, actually got my fingers inside her again, and pushed her into position she could breath.
She hung there limp and I pulled her panties to the side and ran my tongue along the inside of her.
I kissed her for the damage I'd done. To make it all better.
I raised my fist.
I almost twat punched her again.
Smith could see and cried out, 'Don't hurt her. Don't. She's not conscious. Is she breathing? Don't hurt her.'
She was crying and begging.
I knelt on Fawcett, on her chest, and grabbed Smith by the head, by accident I grabbed one of her ears, but I still pulled her along a bit.
'She's OK. She'll have a sore cunt, but at least she didn't strangle and isn't fighting, struggling anymore.'
(No shit. Her pussy was bunged.)
For the moment, right now, they were all able to breath. They couldn't really move much and were like three big fan blades. Three bitch blades like those wind power generator turbines you see on the horizon.
They were generating lots of energy in my dick looking like that.
I stalked around looking at them. Just enjoying the view.
Lad had on the grey silk panties, full briefs, not a thong and her ass was out and fantastic.
She was twisted to her side with her legs a kilter, sort of splayed and spread, but she could breath, so why not visit her?
Introduce myself, get acquainted?
I looked right down on her and knelt down and put my hands on her bared hips.
She was so fucking smooth and ripe.
I turned her, just a little, so her cunt was more up.
She could see my look.
She knew the look.
She knew to fear my look.
Page 5-9.
'Please. Oh please no. Don't please dont.' She cried for real.
I had one fucking, fucking target in mind.
I ran my hands over the smooth grey silk of her ass and slid around to her inner thigh from the back.
Her cunt was bunched up in her panties like two parallel bananas.
She was quite a bit juicier than Fawcett.
Bigger, longer labia and all. Sort of super sized but not at all ugly or anything like that. Pronounced and extended to be exact.
I moved her leg up, just a bit more and latched on to her with both hands at once, pinching and squeezing her vagina full grab.
I just held the position and did nothing else. It was like I was kneading clay or putty and I was also holding her steady by her puss.
She squished out all around.
She felt like a hard sponge.
She had lots of pubic hair.
'Stop it. O god. O god. Stop it. You're hurting me.'
'Hurting you? I'll show you hurting you.' I was excited.
I let go and in a flash pulled her panties down to her knees.
Now she started to kicking wildly and of course it only turned me on more, but she started to choke herself and she started to choke all of them again.
It didn't matter for Fawcett, she was still out cold, but Smith's cries were all garbled and desperate.
'Fucking stop kicking. Fucking stop it.' I hollered.
Ladd's blond pussy was full bore in front of me,
A tiny bit of her labia minora were out side of her crease and I really wanted to get my teeth onto them and eventually the pliers.
She was still struggling and I went to punch her in the side of the head, to knock her out too, but I had a better idea.
I got quick up and was into the kitchen where the broken broom handle was. I was fast back with it and pushed the sharp, splintered end right against Ladd's cunt.
Now she froze.
I looked so mean.
It looked even meaner, the way it was jagged and broken and slivered.
Page 5-10.
I looked her meanly in the eyes, like I was going to shove it right into her, right through her cervix into her uterus or belly.
'Please no. Oh please no. You'll kill me. Ruin me.'
I increased the pressure, just a bit, but enough to slide in about an inch.
The edges were sharp and slivered. (Such a great word.)
Her nerves knew.
She was like a frozen statue, with her legs all askew and her cunt pinned inside.
I knelt down and while leaving the broom handle in her, still holding it fast, I ran the fingers of my other hand all around inside her.
I'd press her up against the pole.
Work her and slide her.
She was afraid of getting a sliver.
I wasn't afraid to give her one.
She was wet with fear.
Her resistance was nil.
I put my face to her and drew out the handle and replaced it with my teeth onto her inner labia.
I bit down but not through.
My teeth wanted to but I wouldn't.
I drew back and away just to look at her. To see her fear and disgust and helplessness.
Surprisingly, her face had gone soft looking, like she could coax me not to hurt her by looking all pitiful, by looking demure and accepting.
Like my lover, willing.
Fuck that.
I slid my two thumbs into her at once and really pulled her apart wide.
Her look changed for the better.
Page 5-11.
I pulled back further to see her, just to see her opening, how she was arranged.
I had pulled her about three inches wide and clearly could see her clit.
I pushed my face down into her again, my teeth looking for it.
It wasn't hard to find and I got it between my teeth and pulled out and back.
I could hear her crunching, but just barely over her screams.
I didn't crunch her enough to break anything.
My prick was so hard it just couldn't wait.
I stripped off the panties and bra.
I was so naked.
I wanted to feel myself all along her body.
My prick head looked like a plumb and was just as purple.
Ladd just couldn't believe that I'd rape her in that position.
Neither did I, but my boner was doing the talking, the thinking, giving the orders.
(Ready. Set. Plunge)
I used one hand to slide my dick head along across her pink.
I worked it back and forth with my hand.
She felt like raw liver but hot.
Her eyes were pleading and she just begged quietly.
Then she started to squirm again.
She'd decided to fight but it was a bit late.
She was trying to wriggle out of the position, that would let me drive into her, so I grabbed the broom handle and shoved the sharp end right under her chin at her throat.
She stretched her neck to try to get away but then started to choke.
She eased back and just stopped again.
I moved the handle down and dug the splintered end into her tit. Her blouse was ripped open but her bra was still on. Amazingly, the pliers were still contained in the other cup. Her bra had elastic all around the cup so it fit snug everywhere it met her skin which accounted for the pliers not falling out.
Page 5-12.
I pushed really hard on her other tit, the one with no pliers, and it deformed, was pushed down to the side, almost speared, and was pressed along the side of her rib cage.
It looked drunk and stretched, almost like distended.
She was still now, but crying again.
I locked eyes with her.
She looked like she was about to be raped, resigned.
'Here's to you baby.' I enthused.
With that I dropped down and was full into her.
She felt beyond fabulous.
Strong but tender.
Muscular inside. Muscles contracting and fighting.
Walls caving in.
Her caving in.
The thing was, I was so pumped from the violence and how they all looked and all the promise of the tortures to come, I only took about a dozen hard rammings, full depth thrusts, for me to explode in her which took all of a minute, one deeper thrust every five seconds and in between the little cock jabs.
I collapsed on her and kissed her and fondled her and got one of her nipples into my mouth though her bra.
I bit her too hard and a little red dot stained the fabric.
I looked at her face again and it was contorted in a wince.
I pulled her head forward, by the hair, and punched her out cold.
No fucking warning.
I drew out of her, got up and stood above my handy work.
Fuck was she a mess now, like the others.
Now there were two of them unconscious.
It only left Smith aware.
'What have you done? What have you done to her?' She was crying deep.
Page 5-13.
'Nothing that won't heal, given enough time, I suppose.'
'Now what about you?' I said to her. 'Any ideas?'
'Stop. Just stop this violence, with the violence. It isn't necessary. We fell down by accident.'
'You made them fall down, because your legs were too weak. You made them fall down because you're weak.'
'It was an accident and I'm not weak, but you used it as an excuse. It was just nothing, just...Stop being such a monster.'
One said gross, another says monster.
'Monster? Yeah, I like that. Well, I'll show you something that isn't an accident.' I was getting hyper wired again for some good old fashioned violence against women.
"Rule of thumb". A man can't beat his wife with a rod having a diameter greater than his thumb. Progressive thinkers of the time allowed for that.
The broomstick looked about right to me. Maybe broke the rule a little.
I picked it up and wacked her across her shoulder with it.
'Don't. No. No. Stop it. Don't. What are you thinking?'
I took the handle in two hands and shoved the jagged end hard under her throat.
This was Smith, my favorite.
I sat down on her, at her knees.
She was pretty well on her back but her neck was still twisted upward by the cord, sort of off to an angle.
Her tits were still in her bra but her blouse was torn open by now too.
I shoved the broom handle under her bra at the front and dug the sharp end into her upper chest and pried her bra upwards.
Both tits popped out together. Like Jill-in-the-boxes.
There were priceless. There are no nicer or finer tits in the whole fucking universe.
Page 5-14.
I knew I didn't have another blast of cum left in me.
Even though I'd just done Ladd, I was still fairly hard.
Hard enough to get into Smith, so what did it matter if I squirted her?
The switchblade was off to the side.
I grabbed onto it and started to cut her capris off starting at her knees. I slit the fabric until her satin beige briefs showed.
Now she was begging.
Pretty good.
I finished the cutting and her capris were off.
There before me was the cunt to end all cunts.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
I didn't want to beat her in the crotch.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
I didn't want to cunt punch her.
Oh fuck.
My fist was almost uncontrollable.
God stop me. I didn't want to rupture her.
I didn't want to fuck her ruptured the first time.
I pressed one hand right down into her area, her private area.
She protested, but not too wildly now.
I had to punch her. I just had to.
I focused on it, her labia, so perfect in her panties.
I leaned forward a bit more and smashed her in the -
Tit.
She lurched forward and fell back passed out.
Wasn't I a fine mechanic. I thought.
Good at fixing an element of surprise.
Page 5-15.
I now had three of them unconscious.
I wasn't going to fuck Smith unconscious, the first time. I wanted her to feel every thrust and indignity and terror.
I took the round end of the broom handle and shoved it into her cunt about two inches. Her undies were still on as I went in through a leg hole to do the penetration.
I pried up in her with the handle and pulled it down and out hard.
I sniffed and licked the end.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect stink and taste.
Delicious slime.
I had to save some for later.
I'd had enough, for now, I was exhausted.
Sexual assaults take energy.
You have to be strong and fit to keep them up.
I was done.
I cut the neck loop and pulled them all straight onto their backs, side by side. Two were one way and Smith was in the middle with her head to their feet.
Funny thing was their cunts all pretty well lined up.
I knelt over them feeling their crotches, sliding my fingers in them, mixing all their juices together. I played them like a piano.
Fawcett started to stir.
I fast tied her legs again , at the ankles, so she could take baby steps, about a foot of line for movement.
I did the same to the other two.
Fawcett was full aware now.
'Oh no. What have you done to them? To my friends? What have you done?'
I ignored her distress, but loved it.
'You said you needed the bathroom.'
I yanked her up by the arm, under her arm pit, and she hobbled to the toilet. It seemed to take forever to get there but that was just fine with me watching her struggle to stay upright. Not to fall over. Besides I knew I had a surprise planned for her.
A nasty surprise. Did I know any other kind?
Page 5-16.
I could really hear her stream as I watched intently. She didn't even protest about no privacy, she had to go so bad.
She stood up from the toilet.
'Hold it.' I said.
'What?'
'Aren't you going to wipe?'
'I can't. Please not with my hands like this.'
'But I can.'
'Stop it. Stop being so...'
'Gross?' I offered.
'No. Oh nothing.'
'I can wipe it for you. That's what I'll do.'
I took a piece of tissue and approached her.
She looked scared and cornered, like the first time on her bed when she had to strip down to change in front of me,
'No please. Show a little, at least a little respect. A little concern for my, for our dignity.'
Well there it was. She thought I should care about her integrity, their dignity. She was fully delusional.
Now I pulled off more and more tissue, like a big handful.
'Fuck you. And fuck your cunt. Fuck all your cunts to heaven.'
And with that I pinned her back and stuffed all the tissue into her twat, like an oversized tampon. Like I was going to push a full roll in.
She whined her disapproval.
I started to lead her out, back to the living room where the others were starting to come to.
'You fucking leave that in there until I say it comes out. You understand?'
She resisted.
' You fucking understand?' I squeezed the soft, fleshy inside part of her arm most likely bruising her.
'Yes. OK. Yes but, not too long, please. It can poison me inside, get into my blood stream if it's in too long.'
Page 5-17.
I guess she meant 'toxic shock syndrome' where if a woman leaves a tampon in too long, it gets jammed way up and she doesn't know it's there, it starts to put poisons into her blood. But that takes a Hell of a lot longer than it would be before I was playing around in her pussy again.
'You think I care?'
'Oh please. You have to care about something like that?
I only cared (about her) as long as she was fuckable.
'Whatever?' I dismissed her assertion.
She sort of just mumbled something about me being inhuman.
'So you understand, I take it out. You don't.'
'Yes, I said I did.'
'Yes what?'
'I don't know yes what? What do you mean? What more do you want from me?'
'I told you to call me Sir with a capital S.'
'Yes Sir. Sir, there. If that's what you want. I'll call you king if you want.'
She was rearing up again. When would she learn? I almost let her have it again but the other two were back conscious.
I walked Fawcett to the couch. I loved her waddle and I think the other two, at least Smith, saw the white wad of tissue, part hanging out of her twat. I shoved her backward and she bounced onto the sofa. I grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her onto the floor, all sprawled and splayed.
'Fucking stay there. Stay right there.'
Now Smith was crying more and the best.
I grabbed her up by the arm. (I do a lot of grabbing when bitches are under my control. I suppose I was needy and grabby.)
'Time to go piss.'
She waddled the same way to the toilet and she was facing me.
I hadn't actually seen her twat bare yet.
This was the moment.
Page 5-18.
'Turn around.' I ordered her.
'Please. Oh please. Just let me go. Not go free, go to the...to urinate. Don't humiliate me while I go. I have to so bad.'
I put my hands on her waist and reached up and forward to the front for her tits.
I hardened both her nipples.
I was pretty well sure I could fuck her by now, it'd been over an hour since I filled Ladd.
I brought my hands down and hooked into her panties and drew them down slowly over her ass.
Her cheeks were quivering and I wanted to stick my thumb up her ass, like 'Little Jack Corner.' - stuck in his thumb and pulled out a turd.
She was meek but pretty steady, like she was praying for strength and finding the strength for her praying.
Now her panties were right down to her ankles where the cord held them.
It was time to turn her around.
But first, I lowered myself down enough to see her cunt from behind looking up into her ass, up into her crotch from the back and low down.
It was a furry arch divided across along the middle.
I don't know how I contained myself.
My eyes were almost blinded by her beauty, how she curved out and in and wrapped around. I couldn't believe I owned all of it. Every fucking hair and all what was inside too. I owned her cervix and the canal leading to it. I felt like going shopping for her do-nut but held off.
As I started to turn her firmly, she started to tremble, almost mildly convulsing. She seemed ready to fall down, to collapse.
'Settle down. Take a deep breath. It's not that bad. You'll see.'
It wasn't that she'd see, but that I'd, in a moment, see all of it.
I turned her to face me full on, ever so slowly.
Her tits jiggled from her gasping as her chest heaved as she struggled to breath, pushing them out further.
Now she was turned facing me full.
Full frontal nudity, would be the movie term. And theemes of violence and adult situations that may be offensve to - her.
Page 5-19.
What a fucking bush. She was pretty heavily haired, dark brown, I guess brunette, but it was beautiful, just as beautiful as the rest of her. She was like a real beaver, sleek and shiny silky appearance, not coarse and curly at all. Like a well manicured man's beard. Her hair went right into her slit, the full way along, fully covering her labia. Her labia had on a fur coat.
I knew I'd be shaving her.
And really looked forward to that exercise.
(None of them liked when I shaved them and I'd had a couple I got to shave several times since I held them so long. It was demeaning and I always made it more so than it had to be.)
I forced her to stand there for ten minutes just trembling and shaking while my eyes feasted on every curve and muscle and wriggle and shudder.
Then I sat her down on the toilet to piss.
With her hands tied behind her back her tits hung forward and down like a cow's.
I could have put a twenty-two bullet through one, side to side, and done little damage as long as I didn't blow her nipple off.
Her stream was even stronger than Fawcett's and she was embarrassed by the sound it made as it splashed in the water in the bowl.
She was finished but didn't want to stand up.
'What's the matter?'
I have to.. I have to do the other. Number two.'
'That's fine. I'll wait.'
It took about five minutes and she sort of stunk.
Smith's shit stunk. How could that be? She was so perfect.
I guess she was pretty nervous and terrified and that can release all kinds of chemicals into her body that can affect that sort of thing, how she smells.
She was done.
Page 5-20.
'Please let me wipe myself in private.'
She was sitting vulnerable before me still on the shitter.
I took her sweet face between my hands and moved in close to her and sort of whispered, 'That's not going to happen.'
I kissed her and said, 'I'm going to wipe you.'
'Oh no, please. Let me do it myself. Untie my hands and let me have that modicum of dignity.'
Now I got mean to her.
I slid my hands down from her face and cupped her under her breasts. I took a firm grip and lifted her up off the bowl by them. Tits make great handles.
'Stop it. No.'
I stared, glared right into her face and pushed her back to the wall.
I pulled down on her tits and started to turn her. I let go and grabbed her by the back of her neck and forced her head down further and farther until she was half laying across the toilet.
She was in an uncomfortable, but resting position.
I took some tissue and I spread her ass cheeks and wiped her sphincter.
Her asshole really wasn't dirty at all and I loved how it puckered and contracted, like a squid.
She was crying and whining.
I pulled her up straight, standing, by her hair.
She thought we were done.
'Can I go now? Can I go back in with them? Please.'
'Not so fast.'
'What? Why? She was puzzled.
'Not so fast. Didn't you piss too? Don't you always wipe yourself after you piss?'
'Oh no. Please, no don't.'
I had the proper amount of tissue for the job and carefully slid it into her crease where her urethra would be. I jiggled her a bit and she tensed hard.
Her face was the picture of shame and then outrage.
Page 5-21.
'Fine, can I go now? You've done me both. You've embarrassed me enough. Can I go back?'
'Not so fast.'
'What now. You always have some more.'
I guess she was right. I intended to fuck her.
I put my hands around her throat and started to force her down to the bathroom floor.
She started to sense I was far from done with her.
She tried not to bend, not to descend. Not to go down. She just knew it meant something bad. Maybe really bad.
Slowly she was forced and folded to the floor.
Now she was a heap of the finest grade A cunt.
I had her right down, like a lump and decided to take a chance on her.
I wasn't as concerned about her capacity for violence as much as the others, especially Fawcett who could be downright dangerous. (Could be if ever given the chance again.)
I had my faithful knife handy and cut Smith's ankle cord. I pressed the knife tip to her inner thigh and slowly separated her legs, spread them and wide.
She pleaded, but not much now since she knew she couldn't avoid it.
My prick was ready to prick.
I moved the point of the knife into her crease.
She begged and sort of moaned, but a distressed moan, not in ecstacy.
'No. Oh God. Take the knife away from me. Take it away. Away. I'll do what you say. Just don't cut me there. Don't...'
'Lacerate you there?'
'Oh God, No.'
'Slice you there?'
'Please. please don't.'
'Mutilate, torture you there?'
'Stop it. You're tormenting me with your words. Just stop it.'
'How about a cunt cut? A cunt short cut?' I joked.
Page 5-22.
I was just teasing her.
I was hovering over her all set to plunge.
To plunge, not stab.
I moved up forward along her body and pressed my cock to her tits. The hurt one last.
'Oh stop it. That really hurts.'
I dropped down the full weight on her chest, on her mound and dug my fingers full into her labia and tunnel. I could feel her clit and I pinched and gouged at it.
I pinned her beautiful head with my other hand, managed to get pretty good contact and ground back and forth on her punched tit.
Her first fuck from me was a tit fuck.
After I soaked her chest, I smeared it across her lips and into her mouth, onto her teeth.
She jerked her head to the side.
I took hold of her again and raised her head up and banged it to the floor. It thudded.
I climbed up further across her and straddled her with my prick, still all wet and messy, about two inches from her mouth.
Her eyes were wide.
I drew my cock right along her face to her sweet lips.
Her mouth was clamped tight shut.
I showed her the knife again.
'Open up.'
She wasn't very good at sucking me. I'm not sure she'd ever done it before. Had a prick in her mouth.
But her expressions were great.
I'd teach her better later.
I'd ground at her, been at her, for almost forty-five minutes and her tits were really extra sore by now. I sat flat, down right on them with my ass. She howled with my dick in her mouth so it sounded sort of weird and funny.
But she was howling from her heart which I guess wasn't so funny. Just fucking fantastic great. I was getting into her spirit.
She'd break like a twig under my boot.
I pulled out and kissed her nicely and then slid down and shoved my face into her labia and bit her and slugged her in the gut to tie her legs up again.
She was doubled over in a groan.
You might say, she was a punched bag.
Page 5-23.
She was doubled over forward, on her side and I just had to do it.
Her sweet cheeks were so bare.
I fucking just had to do it.
I shoved the broom handle into her ass, just the round end and she tried to wriggle off it but I followed her along pushing it in harder.
She screamed, ' You're tearing me. You're tearing me inside. You're breaking me. For God's sake take it out. Stop it. Please, please stop it.'
I was tired of beating her, beating on her, besides Ladd was screaming out for me to stop.
She hadn't pissed yet. Ladd hadn't pissed yet.
I stopped abruptly and left Smith laying there convulsing and weeping with the broom handle still up her ass.
She couldn't believe any of this had happened to her.
She had led a charmed live, had a charmed body and looks and now everything was smashed. Everything was defiled. Could it, could she ever be the same again? She just didn't know none of it mattered.
I left her laying there, a puddle of human misery.
I was on to Ladd.
'Look, are you going to give me a hard time or just do your piss like a good little bitch girl?'
'Please, these are my friends. Don't hurt them. Don't hurt them anymore. Don't. Don't rape us anymore. Don't.'
She had to be fucking kidding and she sure had a lot of don'ts. Don't. Don't. Don't. Bossy bitch.
I wrestled her up by the arm pits and backed her up until she was against one of the living room walls. I hunched down and pushed her right up off the floor, sliding her up the wall, and held her there pinned, sort of dangling.
I forced my knee between her legs and let her down. Her ankles were still tied and she had about eighteen inches of free line for walking.
She was resting on her cunt, now on my leg at my knee. I was forcing my leg up and it was hurting here more, sort of mashing and flattening her labia. All of them.
I took her head between my two hands and kissed her mean.
I clawed into her chest.
Then I pulled my leg back. She dropped a bit and I kneed her full smash in the crotch.
That was it for her.
Page 5-24.
I heard the crack.
She was out cold and didn't need the toilet.
She'd pissed herself from the sudden impact.
I looked on in disgust and delight.
I went and got a role of paper towel and dried her about her crotch and thighs and her ass where she sat in it. I got a face cloth and washed her all about and lots inside her.
I really put a shine on her clit nub.
I even made it hard while scrubbing it.
In all of the violence, her bra had pulled sideways and the strap broke.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
The pliers were out of her bra.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck.
They called out to me.
They crawled into my hand.
Oh fuck and shit.
And my hand, as if in a trance guided them to her spot, I had just shined, her nub I had just polished.
What the hell?
Where was my self control?
Oh fuck.
The jaws of the pliers were on each side of her clit.
Would I or wouldn't I?
Should I or shouldn't I?
Her nipples caught my eye, my attention.
I had to pinch something, crush something of her.
I squeezed her nub in the pliers but didn't crush, almost, but not quite, although it was really extra flattened and the skin looked white like the head of a pimple.
Her nipples were hard.
I was up to them and I ran the sharp corner of the jaws across her bud, dug it into her as I squeezed her out with my other hand.
A bit of fluid seeped out.
Page 5-25.
I settled for part of her areola instead, about a quarter inch off the base of her bud.
The sound was exactly like crunching a peanut between your back teeth with your mouth closed. One crunch.
(Try it. You'll see and know better.)
And the blood spurted across her breast, even down to her belly and to her shoulder.
And on to me.
She was already passed out from the crotch knee so she didn't feel a thing. When she came to though, oh brother, look out.
I took my sweet time fucking her unconscious, maybe forty minutes and hundreds of thrusts, tiny and massive, many really extra hard and deep into her.
I know I bruised her cervix.
(She told me later I had, and she thought, torn it too.)
I'd kissed her and mauled her and stretched her and all the other good things raping an unconscious woman entails.
And I kissed her, gently, in appreciation, when I was completed, when I was fulfilled. I washed the blood off her and got the part of her areola I'd crushed to stop bleeding, but it took awhile. I loved the effort required.
I used her saliva as a coagulant. Running my fingers into her mouth to collect it. And kissing her mouth, feeling her face and head, all along.
I kissed her areola too and licked it and of all things, her nipple wanted to erect.
Dumb, stupid little fucker, just couldn't help its self, sort of involuntary, you might say,
I looked at the pliers again.
And at her.
Growing bud.
Unprotected nipples.
Fuck, I really wanted to do it.
Why shouldn't I do it?
I had five more to torture (soon to be seven).
That was reason enough I should do it.
Ample supply.
Disposable.
I put the pliers to her again.
I just let them rest there. The jaws set on each side of her suspecting nipple.
I think it cried out to me.
It was a picture sent from torture heaven.
Her nipple was still whole and an entity.
It had its form and integrity and sexual appeal.
It still was a sex organ.
It was in the gravest of all possible dangers.
Page 5-26.
I squeezed down on the handle.
She was flatter but not crushed.
I let off and did it again, changing the position, the aim of the jaws.
I flattened her better again but still didn't crush.
There was still something to heal.
No not now.
It was just too soon.
I said to myself as her nipple's guts squished and squirted out and about.
I was ashamed and should be.
She'd never trust me again.
I had to wash her off again and examine the results of my action.
It was sort or weird but a total fucking turn on.
I guess since the human body is so much water, so much liquid... the outer skin was still there. The shape, split open, just with no insides. Like a stamp.
Her nipple was just the profile of a nipple.
It had no body.
It was just a flap.
The skin hadn't disappeared, just what was inside.
It was like a flat drawing of the real thing.
And it wasn't the real thing anymore.
It wouldn't stand, but just lay to the side across her areola. She could never have an erection in that one again, no muscles or milk ducts left.
Oh well, such is life and the effects of effective torture.
I was satisfied. I'd done it right, again.
I looked into the living room and Fawcett was moved.
I went in and found her huddled with Smith. I guess she'd crawled over to comfort her, to comfort each other or to plot something.
'I thought I told you to stay put.'
'What did you do to Cheryl?' Fawcett demanded.
I put my hand on her inner thigh and gave her a fast punch where I'd just touched her.
She squawked.
I punched her harder the same spot.
'Stop it. Stop hitting me.'
I hit her four more times, quick jabs in succession.
She'd have one fuck of a sore muscle and a really great bruise.
Page 5-27.
I got up and went back for Ladd.
I dragged her into the living room by the foot and when her friends saw her and her tit, they set up a wall of wailing that would put the Arabs to shame.
They sounded like a tribe of banshees.
They practically screamed themselves to death and the pain that Ladd was going to experience when she came to, she was better off dead.
(I wouldn't give her even an aspirin for it.)
I tied her legs up again, I'd fucked her with them lose.
Oh well again.
Not bad for half a day's work and I still had to transport them. Get them ready and that. Collect what of their clothes I wanted and all of their underwear and their tampons...
The two were still wailing like sirens.
They cuddled and covered Ladd. Her breast.
They had no idea what to do for her.
A doctor wouldn't either, other than to cut off what was left of it.
I could clearly see out the living room window.
I was still naked.
I knelt over Fawcett and drove her to the side of the head sending her unconscious.
I had to choke Smith. She wouldn't go lights out from the punches and I didn't want to give her a concussion.
It was hours before Ladd came to squealing. I guess it was her body's way of compensating for the extreme trauma I'd caused to her nipple and the crack in her pelvic bone where I'd kneed her.
She came to way beyond shrieking, like something from her private Hell, and she didn't like at all what she saw.
She didn't like her new look.
A car was coming up the drive.
And I was still naked...
|
|
|