Extremities (1986) the movie.  Starring - Farrah Fawcett.

       Revised Ending.

       The following is an actual plot review of the movie from when it was first released in 1986. These are not my words but are those of the reviewer.

       "An intended rape victim manages to escape from her attacker but leaves her purse behind. Worried that he may visit her house and finish what he has started, she contacts the police but they are unable to help, saying that she has no proof. "If he calls, let us know and we'll send a man round!" A fat load of good that would be. Her worst fears are realised when, alone one day in the house, her attacker visits and attempts again to rape her. Circumstances allow her not only to resist the attack but to turn the tables and lock him away. And that is where her dilemma really starts. Does she release him and risk another attack? Does she go to the police and risk being called a liar? Or does she kill him - and become as low as him?"

       I have collected some unusual pictures, of the victims in this story, and posted them on two sites for interested readers to view.

       1.) Posted on Myspace (you will have to register, no charge, and log on.)

                 http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewAlbums2&friendID=248156692&view=true

       2.) Posted on Facebook (you will have to register, no charge, and log on.)

                http://www.facebook.com/photos.php?id=598643450

       In the context of visualizing what happens to whom, take a peek.

       Also, let me know what you think of the visual aids. Are they a waste of time or a turn on?

       BofE

Page 1-1.

       

       Extremities, the nineteen eighty-six film, starring Farrah Fawcett as the potential rape victim who turns the tables on her attacker and captures him, has moments of brilliance, even greatness from a rape fan's perspective.

       I know it may seem ridiculous to equate Farrah Fawcett with anything so lofty in terms of her acting, but in this case, she has moments that are any rape hound's wet dreams come true. Before she flaked out and became somewhat of a screen joke, Fawcett was a pretty decent piece of cunt.  Of course,  now she's dead but that's irrelevant and after the matter. Facially beautiful, with a taut, killer body, that nipple poster of her probably got more jerk-off play, for the time, than even the Playboy stuff. As far as I'm concerned, she was a fabulous looking woman, at that point in her life. The role she played often had her showing a good portion of her body and, of course, had her in the perilous circumstances that many a rape fan would love to re-create.

       So enough of the mystery. What's the big scene, the portrayal that Fawcett should have won the Oscar for? The bedroom scene, in her bedroom, the utterly perfect dynamics on her bed.

       He's (James Russo) has gained control of her and has her in her bedroom. He isn't ready to rape her yet. He wants to savour the anticipation, built her fear. He understands the dynamics of instilling fear and dread, of making her go against her instincts (in order to survive). To force her to do what repulses her. That's the control and the power. Those factors are as much fun, often even more so, than the cunt or sphincter penetrations.

       She's just come from the shower so she's naked under her bathrobe.

       In the scene, he wants her to change from her robe into a black negligee top he's fished out of her underwear drawer  and also he has a pair of her undies in his sweaty hands. He's gone into her closet for a tight black bottom. He sniffs the crotch fabric. (Hell, he should have put on one of the bras and panties, right in front of her, and asked her what she thought of that?)

Page 1-2.

       Naturally, she doesn't want to change in front of him, which brings me to a bit of an aside.

       The really good looking ones, with the great bodies, they all want to keep their tits in their bras and their bras under their sweaters or blouses and, of course, their cunts in their panties under their jeans or skirts. I mean, you'd think they were the King's jewels or half as good as balls and a dick, the way they try to keep them hidden, keep their panties on and everything private, and away from hungry eyes and prying dicks.  Who do they think they are? That they're entitled to their sanctity and privacy?

       It never occurs to them, that at some point in their lives they'd be tied spread-eagled to a bed with a fucking sadistic pervert examining their clits with a magnifying glass. You can count the hairs (before they're shaved) with a strong enough magnifier (like a jeweler's) and I'll swear sometimes you can pick out the G spot, sort of the nipple of the clitoris, which is what hat pins and tweezers were really intended for. Sort of the highest and best uses for them. To borrow a real estate axiom, location, location, location.

       Back to the bitch Fawcett and her predicament in her bedroom. He wants her to put the top on and she doesn't want to. (Too bad he didn't have my BB gun in the movie or even a sling shot.) He orders her to stand up on the bed while she changes. She's reluctant but he is sufficiently menacing that she slowly climbs up to stand on the bed. Fuck, just under her robe, her bare cunt is almost at his eye and teeth level. She goes right to the top of the  bed, as far away from him as possible, which isn't very far at all really.

       He orders her again to change and she really balks even though she's slowly starting to comply. He isn't angry or fierce, just determined and unrelenting. It's sort of like negotiating except it all has to be his way eventually. She knows she's not going to get out of it. She still balks and is squirming.

       Obviously, to put the new clothes on, her robe has to come off and he's intent on watching every move and second of the exchange. No, she doesn't want her robe to come off in front of him. When she put it on after the shower, she never dreamt she'd be forced to remove it in front of his leering, salivating and anticipating red face and his bulging pants.

Page 1-3.

       It is here that Fawcett gets the Oscar.

       First she picks up the undies.  She wriggles into them sliding them on under her robe.  Her legs are long and thin and he near spunks himself at just that sight of her. Of course, much more and better is soon to come.

       She trembles, sort of gives a shy, self-conscious whimper and cowers even though she's standing up, as she starts to remove the robe, to drop her privacy, her protection from the predator and violator. The wolf was inside her door, inside her bedroom, by her side. Fawcett magically captures the true emotions and movements and the fears and behaviors that beautiful women, in those circumstances exhibit. How I've seen them behave and what they reveal of themselves. She portrays it as if it was revealed, not acted. As if it was for real. Of course, that's what a good actress would do. Immerse herself into the role, so far, so deeply, until she becomes the role, so it's pretty safe to assume that if Fawcett had, in real life, been faced with the situation, she would have behaved just the same.

           How could she behave differently?

           She is a woman portraying the woman and had to draw on her own vision for her actions. How she thought she would respond.

       Her whimpers and reluctance and fears, her fucking almost naked vulnerability, as she stands there in her panties, with her long slender legs sort of squeezed together at the top, to make her crotch more hidden and less accessible and her tight ass full to his reddened face, all are rings of truth. He is agog. He can hardly believe his good fortune and comes out with the redundant, or at least obvious line, "Christ, you are so beautiful."

       She's a two hundred percent, living breathing fuck bitch, under his control, who is also gorgeous. As he devours her shape and features and her fear, anticipating how he's going to bind her with her legs full spread and penetrate her slowly from front and behind, all measured and controlled and deliberate and how her nipples are going to scream for him to stop, he is pretty well giddy, ecstatic. He's hit the cunt jack pot, the bitch jack pot, clean and tight with legs he can whip and tits he can fuck, not large, but hard and pert.

       Holy shit, how did he get so lucky, when he failed to bust her the first time and she got away, but he got her wallet that showed where she lived? Now he was so glad he hadn't succeeded the first time. That was in her car, this was in her fucking house, in her bedroom where he could take all the time he wanted and as many times too. It was just meant to be, as far as his cock was concerned.

       Like lucky dick destiny.

Page 1-4.

       Once her robe was dropped, she scurried and hurried to get herself covered again, as if that would make a bit of difference then. He hadn't seen her naked, but almost. Now he knew when her peered into her cunt, with her legs tied apart and his knife point to her labia, that her clit would be as beautiful and vulnerable as the rest of her.

       Beautiful women have beautiful cunts.

       It just seems to be the rule.

       He knew she would be the best fuck of his entire life and most likely was starting to try to figure out how to arrange to keep her so he could go at her again and again, beyond what he could do at her house. Like kidnapping her. I mean, one fuck was like one candy, you couldn't eat just one, and eating her out once, would never be enough. He wanted to feast and it would have to unfold like a surprise and somewhere else safer and remote.

       And of course, according to the plot, things go awry. She gets the better of him, even though he violently slugs her and drags her around by the hair. He should have cunt kicked her right off, split her labia, to bring her down and tit punched her for extra good measure.

       He could still have fucked her even though she was ruptured.

       But he didn't. He missed his opportunity, had his chance and she managed to turn the tables by getting the spray can of bug stuff for wasps, into his eyes and slugging him with the hot kettle, twice, and binding him with the phone cord and stuffing him into the fireplace, confining him behind the steel bed stead she retrieved from the yard, where she taunts him and strikes out at him with the poker and vents her hatred and anger at him. It's as if she comes to like doing it, likes to torment him. Likes the power to smash his balls, if she chooses. See how he likes it, and she becomes the hunter rather than the prey. The tormenter, rather than the victim.

       She wanted his pecker off and was thinking to retrieve a carving knife from the kitchen when her housemates, and friends returned home...

       For the next, and subsequent  instalments, I'm going to alter the drama, the ending. I'm going to assume the role, his role, in the first person, and Fawcett will be beyond sorry she ever overpowered me. So will her two bitch girlfriends, who I'll make as good looking as Fawcett.

       Let's put it this way, Fawcett gets fucked, regular and otherwise and eventually she begs for it, rather than worse, and she walks funny and her bra doesn't fit the same anymore, sort of half empty.

       Involuntary breast reduction, a new felony or just a new sport?

       And so the new, improved story begins..

Chapter 2. Re-turning the Tables.

          

Page 2-1.

       Shit was I in trouble, big time.

       I mean, it all was on the line and I couldn't believe how unlucky I'd been. Actually that wasn't quite accurate, the bitch had gotten extra lucky. It wasn't on my side of the luck fence. It was on hers and I didn't see it coming at all. Up until then, I'd figured she'd been pretty unlucky running into me. That went for all of them, each of my previous victims. If they looked really good, and had the right body and attitude, they didn't want to cross my path, ever.

       I suppose I deserved my predicament, but not wholly. I could have booted her in the twat. I had a clear shot, but it flashed through my mind, at that point, as we were still wrestling for control, for dominance, I didn't want her all bruised and swollen the first time I examined her or stuck it in her. So I guess it wasn't all altruistic on my part either. I had a motive but I should have cunt kicked her to rupture her when I had the chance because then I didn't anymore(have the chance). So look what became of being almost a nice guy. There I was trussed up in her fireplace, behind the steel bed-stead, with the phone cord around my ankles and my wrists, at the back, and pulled tightly around my neck too.        

       Trussed, that was the exact word and I'd done lots of that to all the others so now it seemed to be my turn. Like that Kharma shit, or something.

       But mostly it was my eyes. They burned and were almost swollen shut and I couldn't see but a blur. And my head and face hurt too where she'd  whacked me with the hot kettle. So how lucky could she be? I wasn't at all worried as we fought tooth and nail, as we twisted and pulled and flopped on the floor as she struggled to break away from me. In fact, I loved it, the fight in her, every twist and scream. I was easily forty pounds more her weight which she was about one hundred and ten and was five foot eight. I worked out, (so did she) so I was strong for my size besides I wasn't at all adverse to mean, gratuitous violence which I was certain she knew little if nothing about.  I knew I could have knocked her out cold anytime with one punch up the side of her pretty little head. I didn't want to bash her in the mouth, in her face, since that could make her sort of ugly and distorted and a little bit purple.

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       I mean, bruises can be beautiful but they have to be in the right places. I could have cold-cocked her anytime and layed her out flat. (I'd done it before. One hard fist to the temple.) Her resistance and fierce, for-her-life, fighting were a major turn on. I loved slapping her and clawing at her and pulling her along the floor, first by her ankle, which hiked her skirt right up over her ass, and then by her hair. I'd had some pretty good feels as we struggled but they were mostly accidental. I wanted that to be deliberate and slow when I got around to it, which she knew because that's what I'd wanted before, at her car, and I'd be looking to get it again only more.

       So, I had her face down on the floor with my foot pressed hard into the small of her back, right on her spine, and I pulled her head way back by her hair and her throat. She choked and gasped for air and I started to twist her onto her side and back so I could get a good look at her tits, which were half out and maybe go in for the first bite even though her clothes, the negligee I'd forced her to put on in her bedroom, was still on, sort of pulled aside and ripped but pretty well mostly, you could say, she was still wearing it. But her skirt was up above her hips and her panties were thin enough I could see her bush through. She wasn't shaved. It all was distracting me and I was seeing with my pecker's eye instead of my brain. I got on to her and kissed her and controlled her face. I forced her to say she loved me and, get this, that she wanted to make love with me. I buried my face into her cleavage and could feel her nipples hard against my cheeks.

       Well shit. Who would have thought? When we knocked over a small storage cart and all the stuff spilled out over the floor, a spray can of bug killer  rolled right to where she could reach it. I was so focused on the way her crotch twisted and her labia almost poked out as she struggled and yelled but next I was kissing her and getting ready for the penetration when I didn't see it coming at all.

       Stupid careless degenerate fucker, I was.

       She snagged onto the spray can.

       She got me a short blast into both eyes. It stung like a red-hot poker (always good for cunts) and as I went to rub my eyelids, she let me have a much longer, closer blast that got into my nose too.  I couldn't breath nor see and I was fairly stunned. I managed to stand but couldn't fight for shit. Next thing I knew she slugged me with a hot kettle. I reeled until she hit me much harder, a second time, and I went down like a load of broken bricks.

           She wasted no time seizing the moment, the opportunity and me. Just that fast, she turned the tables. She got to the telephone cord (That would teach me to rip it out of the wall the way I had at the beginning of our encounter.) and got it around my neck from the back and began choking me the best she could. She was strong, fierce, almost super strength filled with adrenalin and the smell of victory over me, over her attacker and tormentor and it made her an exceedingly dangerous force. Indeed, I had forced her to change, right in front of me, and stared so directly at her body, at her sex, she felt already raped. I'd suckled her nipple in the kitchen where I'd gripped at her crotch too.

Page 2-3.

       She pulled tighter and tighter and I was pretty well to passing out but then I got lucky too since I couldn't see at all, but I managed to land a good one/two punch combination to her gut. She gasped for air but was still able to continue tying me up since she could fully see and knew her fucking life depended on it. She kept wrapping the cord around my ankles and legs above the knees and also my wrists at the back and then around my throat so I was pretty well was immobilized. How could I have been so stupid, to let her do that to me? I was still hollering about my eyes but I could make out her form standing all powerful, above me, sort of towering over me, all triumphant.

           The bitch then hauled back and kicked me in the crotch, right in the balls. I doubled forward as much as I could considering how I was tied and she went to do it again, only harder, containing more hatred. She connected mostly with my upper, inner thigh and then she dropped down, sat right down on top of me. She had her legs far apart and I could make out the blur of her white silk panties. I couldn't help myself, seeing what I could through the haze, I thought, 'your cunt's mine. It's fucking garbage and should be taken away from you, thrown away, and you'll live and die to regret this'. I wanted to bite her but it wasn't within my mouth's grasp to do so. I think she knew her crotch, her cunt, was exposed to me and did it all the more to tease me, to torment me. Look what you thought you were going to have, to rape, and now you can't have it at all.

       She got up and off me and pulled me along the floor by my hair (that hurt so I knew how she felt when I did it to her) and stuffed me into the living room fire place, like I was a big log to be burned. She pushed and rolled me in using a spear to jab me. Then she put the steel bed stead which covered the whole opening to imprison me, to confine me. She lashed it into place and pulled a heavy table against it for extra measure.  I was pretty much in a little cell. She'd been using a thin poker and jabbed at me through some larger openings in the screen. She jabbed my stomach and aimed again at my balls. She gloated and said she was going to go to the kitchen and get a steak carving knife to cut them off, to castrate me. Of course, when these bitches threaten to do that, they don't mean just the balls. They want the stick too, the banana, to really emasculate and de-dick.

Page 2-4.

       She was on her way back, knife in hand, wagging it at me when her girl friends, her house mates, came through the door.

       She stopped with the slice and dice.

       Well shit, were they aghast at the situation. She looked like a mad woman, a woman possessed and I looked so much worse off than her. They got her out of the room and away from me and the knife away from her. I could hear heated discussion in the next rooms. I don't know how many times I heard, 'tried to rape me again' but it must have been a hundred. Fucking cunt liar, I hadn't tried that even once yet.

          I was alone and had to sort out my predicament.

       The first thing I knew, with no doubt, if I regained control, got the better of her again, she was fucking dead. Then I decided, no, not if - when. She was so fucking dead her corpse wouldn't even look like one but only after she'd been raped and abused like no other rape victim in the world, in the whole rape universe, hers was going to be the worst so that was some tall order I'd made for myself and her. And that went for her cunt girl friends too. There were going to be fried cunts all around if I ever got loose again. No, no, when I got loose again.

       It may sound hard to believe, but in the midst of all that, my excruciating pain, I sort of chuckled to myself. Totally true, to my nature, right to the end. My end? There I was planning how I was going to kill her (them) and make her cunt sorry it ever belonged to her, when it was more likely she was going to kill me.                                   She said she was going to. 

       There was no point going to the cops since they hadn't done anything about the first time I'd tried to do her at her car, and they seemed more interested in leering at her and talking to her chest than her face.  She said all men were alike and the cops wouldn't be of any use so I'd end up free to stalk and attack her again, so she was going to kill me for peace of mind and insurance. She even said she might torture me to see how I liked it after how I'd gone after her and seemed to like beating on her as we fought before. I sure had liked punching and slapping her as we'd struggled and how her body felt as she strained and stretched and sweated.

       So there I was, almost laughing to myself and seeing the inappropriateness of it all. I suppose that's what the mind does when the body is so injured and in pain with lots of added fear.

Page 2-5.

       I mean, I'd seen it lots of times before in all of my other rape victims, without fail, where they were so fucked over and abused that they started to become irrational, sort of a 'loss of hope syndrome' or something equally debilitating. Their bodies were beyond buggered (I was becoming so good at it, I was thinking to hang out my shingle, 'Expert Cunt Buggerer' - 'Hours, Always') they were so buggered they'd become detached, as I said, not rational any more, sort of like laughing out loud at a really solemn funeral. The mind and body do strange things when pushed beyond endurance, and I should know since I'd done so many to that point and so it was happening to me. At least I knew the signs and knew I wasn't going crazy. I well might have already been crazy, but differently so, 'sexually crazed madman' the newspaper headlines had shouted the only time when they found some remains.

       I had to give my head a shake to get back on track, to sort out how I was going to retaliate, but first just how to stay alive and keep my balls. The one comfort I had was the five inch switch blade knife I had inside a secret pocket in my pants. She hadn't discovered it, so it was to be my focus for escape. I wanted to stick it right through her bra, right through her nipple, right through her chest wall, right into her heart but that was all sort of impractical and wishful thinking, at least for then.

       God, I was pissed and disappointed with myself. She was the best cunt I'd ever had and there'd been quite a few, right across the country. I guess you'd say I was a serial fucker and the best way to describe the conclusions to their ordeals, what happened to them would be a series of mysterious disappearances all across the States and even into Canada. Those Canadian cunts are every bit a match for the good old and young, all ages, made in the USA cunts. One was even from Quebec, outside Montreal. A real beauty about twenty-five and didn't speak a word of English and I don't know French, but she well understood the universal language of a stiffened cock aimed first for her anus and then stuffed into her mouth half way down her throat. Fucking Canadian slut, she's still in the newspapers, they're looking for her. How she disappeared from her vacation in Niagara Falls. She was a judge's daughter, some court they have I think they call Supreme, and she was supreme. Fought like a wild cat for awhile, a couple of weeks and then became mush.

       Enough of my travels and history lesson. I got to get on with getting on. As I was saying, I was so pissed with myself. Fawcett was the best cunt I'd ever had and I was letting it get away.

               I deserved to be whipped. Right across my stupid dick. With an iron bar.

       Fuck, my eyes hurt. What could I do about my eyes?

Page 2-6.

       She must have told them, her girlfriends, she planned to kill me since I clearly heard, 'No you're not. You can't. If you do, it makes you worse than him'. There was a ray of additional hope (from the other stupid cunts). I didn't know which one of her friends was speaking, but she would have to be part of my escape plans, a starting point. I'd have to play her against my captor and divide their resolve, or loyalties, whatever it took. I'd have to play up to her and that could work, I thought. I mean, she'd pay for helping me afterwards, really fucking pay. And that was just about the next thing I heard my little unidentified bitch friend saying.

       'We can't let him divide us. I think he's smart and he's ruthless and if we let him, he'll play us, one against the other.'

       I couldn't hear the next exact response but then heard my bitch again.

       'Then we're agreed that we agree. He doesn't get to manipulate us.'

       Then I heard the others', 'Yes.' and 'Then what are you going to do next?'

       Then Fawcett replied, 'We have to dig a hole.' (I well knew her voice by then.)

       Holy shit. I'd better get it into high gear or I'd be in no gear at all. Holy crap, she was fucking crazy. Just as crazy as me, but only sort of. I'd picked a real power bitch who didn't give a fuck about the law anymore, just the same as I'd never cared about the law. The laws weren't for maniacal rapists, they were for the victims and a sweet lot of good it did them as they were reamed and broken.

       (You're raping me. It's against the law. So fucking what.)

       Holy shit again. She was looking for a shovel, asking them if they knew where one was. Talk about motivational speaking, like giving me a reason to perservere.

       I guess about three hours had passed and my eyes were starting to clear pretty good. They were still puffy and swollen (like her cunt would be) but the pain, after awhile, subsided and I could see pretty clearly then. I really didn't hear her come in. She had soft slippers on, but I heard,

       'Mister. Mister.' ever so timidly.

Page 2-7.  

       I turned to look out and up and holy mother of fuck, what a vision. It was one of her girlfriends who was the spitting image of Jaclyn Smith because it was Jaclyn Smith. What kind of fantasy is this? Would the other one look like Cheryl Ladd? Angels all and that's exactly how it all got juxtaposed. The three women were the Charlies Angles bitches, but they weren't detectives (No guns to worry about.) In this fantasy, they were just girlfriends and housemates.

       Well then I knew I absolutely had to get free to do my thing (to them all). Not to stay alive but to do my thing.  Three of the finest cunts in the world, in the universe, were all together in one place and if I got back in control, I could fuck them all at my leisure, if only I could get free. So besides the grave, Fawcett was digging, then I had extra incentive. Smith is my all time favorite cunt from the

nineteen eighties,  and I just knew, some how, I was going to do her proper and formal and crazed.

       'Please Miss. Please. Your friend went ballistic. She went crazy. I came to return her wallet, all the money's inside, and to apologize for my behavior before. I was really drunk and just separated from my wife and I saw her at her car and she was so beautiful, I just lost control. It was the booze. I swear. I'd never have otherwise. You've got to believe me even if she doesn't.' I really laid on the sincerity.

       'You came to say you're sorry?' Smith asked.

       'Yes. Yes.' I replied timidly, hopefully (all fake).

       'What happened?' she asked again.

       'She flipped out, like a wing nut. She said she was going to make it look like I tried to rape her, tore her clothes and smashed things and all, so she could call the cops and I'd pay for before. She was mad at them, the way they dismissed her and said there had been no rape so they couldn't do anything. She said they just wouldn't do anything and felt they thought she probably asked for it looking and dressing the way she does.' I couldn't have sounded more sincere.

       'How did you get so hurt? Did she do that? She must have done it.' She said.

       Smith was sympathetic and seemed to be siding with me. (gullible, kind, fantastic looking bitch.)

Page 2-8.

       'She beat and kicked me and after, she used the insect spray in my eyes and nose. She wanted to kill me, though, so I guess she's changed her mind about going to the cops.'

       'Yes, she wants to dig a hole, a grave and wants us to help but we don't want to. She's out there digging it now.' Smith said.

       'Please. Oh please. No. My wife may be gone but I have two little girls. I have their pictures in my folder in my shirt pocket.' I begged. (I didn't have a wife nor kids but assembled photos of a family I'd taken from the wallet of a previous victim. It put some of the other cunts at ease, before I grabbed them.)

       Smith replied, 'She said I better not move the screen. Farrah would freak if I did.'

       'Please look. You'll see I'm not lying and please get a wet cloth for my eyes. They're really sore and swollen and she did it to me.'

       Of all things, Smith went to the kitchen and returned with a wet tea towel and moved away the table against the bed stead. She moved it aside too and leaned in and washed my face around my eyes. Fuck, her tits were beautiful. Her face and her ass were beautiful and I just knew her asshole was too. She'd be pucker fucked even harder than Fawcett, but not for awhile. First I had to get her to free me.

       'Check my pocket for the pictures.' I reminded her as she finished up bathing my face.

       She leaned in further and retrieved the folder and took out the photos.

       'They're lovely. Your girls are and your wife's beautiful too.' She seemed a bit surprised I guess because of how bad I looked.

            (The picture of 'my wife' was of the woman I'd stuck the fire crackers in her cunt, in one of my previous accounts, make that stories, on this site.)

       'Yes, and my girls need their daddy. Please don't let her kill me. please.' I really turned it on because it was then or never for Smith.

       She held on to the pictures after she closed me back in with the bed stead and table.

       'I'll see what I can do. I'll see.' She was compassionate. I wouldn't be.

Page 2-9        

       'Say it please. Say you won't let her kill me, take my little girls' father away from them.' I implored, almost begged.

       'I don't know but I don't think we'll let her. There's two of us and we always take a vote.'

       With that she was gone and out of the room.

       I felt much stronger then and just knew I'd be fucking Smith sooner than later. I had almost worked the cord lose around my wrist at the back and knew I could get free in a few minutes more effort. I also knew my knife was ready to rescue me. It had been in more than a few cunts, right into clits. There were lots of pussy notches on its blade.

       All of a sudden, I heard a bunch of yelling and it sounded as if Fawcett had come in and found out and was slapping Smith.        That's what I was supposed to do, bitch slap Smith.

       'What's the matter with you?' Fawcett shrieked. 'You opened the cover to see his dumb pictures? You bathed his eyes? I'm going to gouge his eyes out for the way he stared at me, devoured my body when he made me change, half naked in front of him. So you didn't need to wash them.' Fawcett was furious.

       'Stop it. Stop slapping me and you're not. Just leave him alone for now and stop digging that stupid hole.' Smith retaliated.

       'Help. Help.' I called out.

       'Go see what the rapist wants. I can't stand to look at him now. I'll haul off and kill him. I'll castrate him and murder him. But leave the damned cover in place, the bed stead. Do you hear? And you go with her.' She spoke to Smith like she was a bad kid.

       They both came in. Smith and then Cheryl Ladd. Oh God, the third ultimate fuck.

       'What's wrong?' Smith asked sort of worried.

       'I heard someone being slapped. I wanted to interrupt what was happening.' I said like I was concerned what was happening to one of them. Like I was protecting one of them.

       'You were looking out for me?' Smith asked.

       'Don't sound so surprised. I'm a father and normally a nice guy.'

Page 2-10

       Ladd added, 'I think she's gone too far. We should think about stopping her. Maybe letting him go while she's out there digging. I saw his girls. They're so cute.'

       'Yes, they're sweet hearts.' Smith agreed.

       I totally held my breath and backed off. That was the moment, the pivotal moment. Heads or tales. Everyone's life just hung in the balance.

       'You promise to go and never come back. You promise this is the end of it.' Smith stated.

       'You have to give us your word.' Ladd added. (The word of a murdering rapist, should count for everything.)

       'I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset her and I never envisioned her reaction. I just should have stayed away and mailed her wallet to her but I wanted to apologize, to say sorry, face to face. Please, just let me go and I promise.' I deserved the Oscar for fake sincerity or convincing insincerity.

       'What do you think?' Smith asked Ladd.

       'We can't let her kill him so now's our only chance while she's digging.'

             Ladd agreed.

       With that, they pulled the heavy table away and set the bed stead aside. Smith reached in to help me out and up and I wanted to grab her crotch and tits, her nipples. She had to lean down and forward so I saw right down the front of her sweater. Her bra was pink lace sheer. She didn't seem to notice. She took hold of my arm and pulled outward and then Ladd took hold of the other arm and they pulled me all the way out and sat me on the edge of the table they'd just moved. I was ready to explode but had to hold it all in. I couldn't give off one bad vibration. Four of the finest tits in the world were setting themselves up to be tortured and I had to contain my glee. Smith started to untie me and said,

             'This is already pretty lose.'

       'Yeah, the phone cord doesn't stay too tight.' I said.

       She removed the cord the rest of the way and Ladd got it off my neck. She had to reach across and her tits almost brushed up against me. Then all the cords were off.

Page 2-11.

       I had no time to waste. Not a moment to hesitate. I turned away and fished inside my secret pocket and retrieved the switch blade knife. In a flash it was open and I had it at Smith's throat while I gripped and pulled her hair hard with my other hand.

       'You make one fucking sound and I'll shove this through your jugular. You'll bleed to death in minutes. Understand?'

       They were both shocked beyond belief.

       'Do exactly what you're told and no one dies.' I barked.

       (Do exactly what you're told and you all die. I mused to myself.)

       'Please. Please we were helping you. We were letting you go.' Smith piped up.

       'Just do what you're told.' I barked.

       'You, kneel down.' I pointed to Ladd.

       She was reluctant but slowly complied.

       'Now lie flat, face down.' Slowly she assumed the position. Her ass was just asking for it. Her tits were mashed to the floor.

       'You tie her hands as tight as you can behind her back.' I ordered Smith.

       She balked and I pushed the knife harder so she took the cord and tied her hands the way a woman would, but it was good enough for temporary.

       'Now you lay down the same.' I ordered Smith.

       She looked at me with big sad, soulful, imploring eyes but did as she was told. I cut the cord and tied her hands proper behind her back and then bound her ankles. I was quick over to Ladd and re-tied her wrists and did her ankles proper the same as Smith.

       I was ready to blow a load in my pants. I couldn't believe it. The cunts were mine. Their cunts were then my property and their tits and nipples. Fuck. Fuck. Then I had to deal with the main bitch. Fuck did I have it in for her.

       'Now listen, I want you to call her in from outside. I swear if you warn her, say anything wrong to warn her, I'll cut your fucking cunts out. She may get away, but you won't.' I was stone cold in control of them.

Page 2-12.

       'Are you going to hurt us? Rape us, like you tried to her?' Smith asked.

       'She said the truth and we doubted her.' Ladd added.

       'Just call her in.' I ordered them again.

       'No, we won't.' Smith challenged.

       'We won't let you hurt her anymore, in fact...'

       I could sense they were going to call out to warn her. I drove Smith to the side of her head and a split second later caught Ladd the same. They both toppled over. They had been sitting up by then. I had to stay focused. I had to. They were both unconscious, laying there sprawled before me. I couldn't think with my prick. Not yet anyway. Not then.  I took them both by the hair and dragged them into the kitchen. The floor was waxed and slippery so they slid easily. I used tea towels to gag them and then just couldn't resist. I grabbed onto one of their tits each and tried to lift them right off the floor by them. I almost succeeded. I pushed my hands into each of their crotches at the same time and pinched hard. Their labias squished out. Then I regained control over my griping hands and eager fingers.

       I got up and went back into the living room to the doorway leading outside. I could hear her, Fawcett digging the hole, but then for herself and them. There was a broom in the kitchen, a heavier push type and I gripped it tightly just waiting to swing it. I waited about fifteen minutes and could hear Fawcett stop digging and coming towards the door. She was at it and just through when the broom head caught her full force in the gut. She doubled over and I let her have it full bore across the shins. The handle broke. She collapsed to the ground screaming and writhing and I went to jab the sharp end of the broom handle into her side like a spear.

       'Please no. No more please.' She really begged because then I was really hurting her, like smashing away at her body.

       With that, I began to bind her hands behind her back and tied her legs just above the knees. She looked really, genuinely terrified and for every good and bad and horrified reason.

Page 2-13.

       I sat her up against the wall and got right down in front of her. I looked her dead in the eyes. Right in her quivering face. I pressed the switchblade up under her chin, harder and turned the blade. A little blood trickled down.

       'I should slit your throat. I want to slit your fucking throat.'

       (I really wanted to slit her fucking slit.)

       She yelped but quietly.

       I cut the front of her black tank top open down between her breasts.

       She'd changed out of the negligee I'd forced her to put on.

       I set the knife on the floor beside us.

       Stupid cunt had put a bra on too.

       I pulled it up as I looked her stone cold in the eyes. I watched the tears well up. Her face was exquisite and pale and battered from our previous wrestling match.

       I went right to her nipples and took hold. I dug my thumbnails into each one and then went the full strength pinch.

       It was like using two knives.

       I still looked her dead in the eyes as I pinched even harder and even harder than my hardest. Tears filled her eyes then and her chin quivered uncontrollably. She was determined not to cry but it fucking hurt so much she couldn't help it. I pulled out on her nipples as I pinched to stretch her as far as I could and told her dead serious, 'Now these belong to me. They're mine, not yours and I'm going to keep them. Stupid cunt, I'll show you who's boss. I'll show you all.'

       She shuddered and closed her eyes and started to weep softly, her chest jiggled and heaved and she sort of slumped over. I slapped her face back and forth to get her alert again. She knew she'd made her big play, said all her hateful, murderous things and then I had her back, back under my control. What on earth would I do to punish her, to pay her back? Her fear knew no bounds. That would be the only matter, what would I do for payback? And what about her friends? Where were they? What had I done to them? And that was not the issue either. It was what was I going to do to them? And in front of her? And make her do to them?

       She weakly asked, 'What have you done to...'

       'Your friends?' I finished her sentence.

       She nodded her head meekly.

       'I'll show you.' I was all eager.

Page 2-14.

       I got up and was back into the kitchen. They were both conscious by then and looked equally terrified. It was a Kodak moment. There would be many more and even better. Much better naked ones. I jerked Smith up by the arm and shoved her into the living room. She almost lost her balance because of how her legs were tied above the knees. Ladd had gotten up herself and was taking baby steps also leading into the living room. I came up behind her and shoved her hard so she flew and fell right onto Fawcett. Fast, I was behind Smith and did the same thing. It was a cunt pile. Like the school yard things boys often do on the ice. Pile up. Pile up. Pile on. This was a cunt pile up. What a fucking site. Arms and legs and tits and asses and crotches all twisting and exposed and trying not to hurt each other. Oh what the Hell, I piled on too. I sure got a few great hand fulls and a few elbow shots in too. I kept molesting the pile of them for about ten minutes, pulling them back if they tried to get away, out of the melee. It was like a free for all only the only thing free was me and they were all prisoners. What a spectacular scenario. I just knew in my dick, we'd be repeating it when we were all naked.

       Then it was time to get serious with Fawcett. To give her some of the payback goods. I pulled the other two bitches off her and sat them to the side of her on a couch. They were disheveled and a mess but looked spectacular. Just imagine Smith and Ladd, all messed up, all roughed up. Fucking fantastic.

       I sat down and looked Fawcett dead in the eyes again.  Her bra was still up and I reached for her nipples again and she pulled right back.

       'They're mine. I fucking told you they're mine. They don't belong to you anymore. You understand?' She didn't want to acknowledge my challenge.

       'I want to pinch my nipples.'

       She just sort of looked at me dumb.

       'I want to pinch my nipples or I'll cut them off.'

       She had no clear idea what to do. She was squirming and sort of whimpering the same way she had on the bed when she first dropped her robe. She was so conflicted but then she straightened herself up the best she could and pushed her chest out towards me, offering herself to me.

       'That's better. Now you get the idea. Those are my nipples. And these are mine.' I said as I pinched my own hard.

       Smith and Ladd watched in fright knowing full well their turns would come.

Page 2-15.

       With that I did the thumb nail thing again and then pulled her tits out, by the nipples, really far. I released them quick and they flopped down and jiggled. It would have been better for her if they'd flopped off.

       I looked her cold in the eyes.

       I brushed my cheek next to hers. It was tear stained and smelled salty, tasted salty. She cringed but tried not to reveal it but she was afraid to the heart so couldn't hide it. She just knew something really bad was coming. Something worse than she could imagine. Captured cunt's intuition at work, I suppose.

       I pulled back and looked her stone cold in the eyes again.

       'Just so you know, I'm going to castrate you. You said you were going to castrate me and even had the knife, so I'm going to use the same knife to castrate you, return the favor.' I paused for effect.

       'Can't be done? I suppose it's not quite the right term.' I continued. 'It's what they do in Africa all the time, to the young girls without anesthetic. So what ever they call it, it'll hurt plenty and it's going to happen to your cunt. Your cunt. Your cunt. (I said it louder and meaner each time.) Welcome to sunny Africa.'

       I paused for awhile while Ladd and Smith cried and tried to cuddle each other.

       I got up and said, 'Sounds like a plan to me.'

       Fawcett implored me with her eyes, begged big as saucers. She had no reason to think I wouldn't do it. A deepening shudder ran through her entire body, right to her core, right to her clit.

       I went over to Smith and said quietly, 'You know, with the three of you, I could start a collection, a clit collection.'  She looked mortified but didn't respond. Ladd sagged. I wanted to ask Fawcett, later, what she thought of that idea, but for then I just wanted to let her stew and think about the implications of the procedures. I assumed, for quite awhile she'd be thinking of little else and how to prevent it. How to stop me, the unstoppable fuck force. Then she must have become super terrified because, without warning, she slumped out unconscious. Just from the prospect, she went out cold. She must have been visualizing the operation. Feeling it. Although I could sympathize with her a bit, when she was boldly wagging the carving knife at me, my jewels were more than a little concerned. I knew I had to stop her but I never expected it all to be so sweet.

Page 2-16.

       Since it's nineteen eighty-six and the WWW didn't get up and running until nineteen ninety-one and Google in nineteen ninety-eight, I'll have to use the old fashioned method to research clitorectomy.

            I 'll have to make the effort to go to a reference library.

            Looks good on you, Farrah.

            Looks better off you, Farrah.

       Because it was just the start of a long holiday weekend, I figured I had three days to spend as their guest. I needed lots of time, and space, to execute all my twisted plans for them. I had no idea who would be looking for them or might contact them or come by. I'd cross that bridge when it came up. I had triumphed in the face of adversity and then was going to become their leering face of adversity. I needed a rest to re-group. I sat them along the couch, in a line, and just stared at all the beauty. Talk about an abundance of riches.

       I wanted to fuck them all at once, but then I was hungry - for food.

Chapter 3.

       

       They all see my boner.

Page 3-1.

       Not only was I hungry for real food and drink, (not just pussy slime) but I needed a shower in the worst way. My face was still red and sore from the bug spray and even more so from how much I'd been rubbing my eyes. Also I had a fair number of scrapes and bruises from fighting with Fawcett and my balls were plenty sore from where she'd hoofed me. I'd use her cunt for a football in return. I'd kick what was left of her labia right up to her ears, but not until the end. Also I was really pissed with her for having the nerve to challenge me like she did, to think she could get away with it, presumptuous slut,  and figured if the spray stung my eyes this much, what would it do to the inside of her cunt if I emptied half the can into her, or two cans. I intended to find out, but again not until I'd done all manner of the really nasty things to her. I wasn't decided whether to cunt spray or cunt kick her first. It would sort itself out though. This I knew with considerable satisfaction, like something extra sweet to look forward to.

       Since I wanted to take my time exploring their house and washing up, I'd sat them down in a circle on the floor with their backs to each other and wrapped a nylon cord tightly around their necks in a loop.

       One loop, three necks, fucking fantastic.

       (Their arms were all tied behind their backs and, of course, their legs bound at the ankles.) I pulled the cord tight enough that if one bitch tried to strain to get up, it would choke the other two. Their heads were all bunched together. I also tied off one end of the cord to a piano leg. I used a thin gauge nylon line on their wrists and knotted it really tight. I'm sure they'd try to pick at the knots but there was no way for them to loosen them. Even if one was trying to do another, the knots were too small. Their tits, all six of them, just sort of hung there, under their clothes, since they were hunched forward, and it took all my won't power not to claw and scratch at them.

Page 3-2.

       I had retrieved the line from the large briefcase which contained my personalized 'rape kit'. I had come expecting one bitch and now had three to contend with. Sort of the extra abundance of riches. I knew some of what I had in store for Fawcett. I'd fantasized enough about it since she'd escaped from me at her car two weeks before. I had all that time to role play and refine just how I was going to assault and torment her and bugger bang her. She was so fucking in for it she should have just laid down, bared her pussy and let me rape her the first go; spread her legs wide and let me muff pummel her with a few good nipple crunches added for excellent measure. She should have embraced her rape as a new life experience, one she'd just barely missed out on before.

       Oh well, how could she know? Stupid bitch, they never think it'll happen to them. She was too smart and savvy. Too careful and powerful. Too good looking for anyone to dare.

       Still she wasn't the type to just lie down and take it anyway. That's what she was, powerful. She was a power bitch. Invincible. 'I am strong. I am woman.' (fucking drivel)  She was accomplished in the business world. A vice-president of a human resource agency that supplied personnel for trade shows. Sort of a modelling agency but not for the fashion industry. She had just turned thirty-nine. Smith and Ladd were two of her women she assigned for presentations and were also good friends. Smith was forty-two and Ladd thirty-six. They had lived together for four years now and it all worked out just fine for them. They all valued their privacy and had wanted to escape the hectic pace of big city living, so their house was remote. It was set into the woods on about five acres and Fawcett owned it herself. From the road it couldn't be seen and there was security apparatus installed both inside and out. There were electronic gates across the driveway. All, in all, if they didn't want company, none was likely to just drop by. To break in, I had had to come in from the next property (the people were away) and found the phone line to disable their alarms. I knew how to jump the connectors, first, so it didn't appear at the monitoring station as if anything was wrong. Fawcett was fucking shocked when she first saw me looming before her. The look on her face was priceless, not even really afraid, just like get the Hell out of here. You already tried once and failed, you looser.

Page 3-3.

       Of course I was armed with a handgun and was quite prepared to shoot her, first in the knee or shoulder, then in the cunt if need be or finally right between the eyes if the threat continued and became too great. It's the only way to go because they always eventually obey. They may seem to rebel, to revolt with the hairs on the back of their hangable necks standing on end all alert and their little cunt hairs all running around blind and scared (and often pissed on), fight or flight from fright, and for the best and the very worst of reasons, but it's only instinctive, for survival, and temporary and then their reason takes over without them having any fucking idea, or insight, about my reasons. Miserable wretches all, poor, suckered and without hope or escape, at least not alive, and they really should fight enough to get blasted.

       So after a lot of resistance and squawking that's how I coaxed Fawcett into her bedroom (she didn't like it at all when I aimed at her hips and I closed one eye) to change from her robe into the sexy dress I'd rummaged from her closet. I was going to rifle her underwear drawer too but decided to prolong the levels, the rising levels of invasion of her privacy and then her body as long as I could stand it. (Stand not shoving my cock up her ass or into her pink.) I was not going to do what she expected, or how, and never when. But then, after she'd changed her clothes and I'd practically seen her naked, and she ran, even with the gun on her, and I'd gone after her with glee and got unlucky about the bug spray and then got super lucky, with Smith letting me go,  (as the second chapter described) so now I had a whole new set of circumstances to arrange and act upon. Three's company. Three's enough?  Three was already enough and yet before it was all finished, I'd end up with four splattered cunts.

       I needed the shower so that was where I was headed. On the way back upstairs, I went into each of their separate rooms and went for their bras and panties. As it turned out, I'd chosen Smith's room last and stripped off my clothes and put a nice silk pair of her briefs on. They were light shiny blue with an extra reenforcing gusset right to cover her twat and up to the bottom of her ass. I buried my face in them. They were fresh washed which didn't surprise me but there was none of her crotch odor, which would have been nice. Of course, the ones she had on now, which would be coming off soon, would have that marvellous fragrance. (If she didn't piss herself out of fright). I put them on. They hugged my cock and I loved the feel as I grabbed myself knowing they'd last had her cunt in them.

        Smith's cunt had last been in them.

       Now I was in them. And I was going to be in Smith. She didn't know it yet but she probably strongly suspected it through her fear. I was going to be in her in so many different ways her brain would explode before her cunt did.        Fuck was life perfect and Smith even more so. She was the pinnacle of feminine beauty all set to be busted.

Page 3-4.

       I found the bathroom and showered with her underwear still on. I let the water get warm gradually before it got hot and it washed away the discomfort and most of the pain Fawcett had inflicted upon me. It invigorated me. Gave me new strength to deal with the circle of cunts downstairs. I dried off and was back into Smith's bedroom. I left the wet panties on and found one of her bras and put it on too. It was a match for what I had on. I pinched my own nipples hard through her bra. I looked great, in the mirror, I thought, as I preened and posed, but wondered how Smith would like me in her intimate things and how all of them would react when they saw me dressed like that? Would they think I was a pervert? Heaven forbid. A raping, torturing, homicidal sexual maniac, but never a pervert. Sort of like calling an inmate a 'goof' in the joint.

       I made my way back downstairs into the kitchen and found an array of breakfast cereal, made toast, had juice and really regained my energy. They could hear me, but not see me and I took my sweet time, almost half of an hour. They had no idea how I was dressed and after I'd finished the good meal and relaxed, I made sounds as if I'd gone outside through a side door and then quietly snuck back in. They thought I had left and listened intently for any sounds to indicate otherwise. I was as close as I could be to the doorway, as close to them as I could be without being seen and after about five minutes and a little whispering they started to talk as if no one was there. I had told them before not to talk at all, not one fucking word between them, or I'd go for their cunts with the knife and the shower was far enough away (the house was over six-thousand square feet) that with the door closed they couldn't hear what I was up to or know where I was.

       It became pretty obvious to me, they hadn't talked freely under the threats I'd made but now felt safe to do so.

       Fawcett (of course) started. 'Why did you let him go? Why? Why? When I told you he was dangerous, ruthless?'

       'We didn't know. We just didn't.' Smith replied.

       'It was you Jackie, who said to. You believed him and I believed you.' Ladd began.

Page 3-5.

       'Yes, please. Yes, it's mostly my fault. I should have paid more attention to you.' Smith directed her comment to Fawcett.

       'He's a real danger, a horrible threat. He almost broke my leg and he loved doing it. I know he liked doing it, he has a gun but he chose to strike me and...  You didn't see his face, how he looked when he made me change into this dress. He made me stand up on the bed so he could leer at me better. He saw me mostly naked and it was horrible. Really horrible. He's evil right through and now we have to deal with him. Why, oh why, did you ever free him?'

       'How are we going to deal with him when he has us like this?' Smith asked.

       'I'm afraid. About some of the things he said. About, you know...' Ladd whimpered.

       'About cutting our...' Smith started the sentence.

       'Cunts out.' Fawcett finished it.

       'I know. I think he just wants to use the horrible language and images to intimidate us. To put fear into us. To instill.  To control us. You can't cut, you know, it out.' Fawcett offered.

       (You want to bet bitch. I'd never forgotten that classic line from the movie 'Taxi' - 'You'd be surprised what comes off.')

       'But the African thing, what he said to you, he means a clitorectomy, doesn't he? Removing the clitoris?' Ladd asked.

       'No. No. Surely he was just being mean. Extra threatening to make fear in me, in us. I don't believe he'd do that.' Fawcett hoped.

       'But he said to me, and he smirked as he did, that with three of us, he could start a collection. He meant a clitoris collection. Even though he didn't say it, I'm sure that's what he meant. Do you think? Oh it's all so horrid. How did we ever end up tied like this? This morning my life was perfect and now it's...'(buggered, my word).  Smith was abject.

       'It doesn't matter how, now, it's what are we going to do about it.' Fawcett was strong and trying to focus.

       Smith continued on like she hadn't even heard Fawcett, 'and what he did to your breasts, your nipples. I know he hurt you and he said they were his now, they belong to him and he's going to keep them. What does that mean? He's going to keep them?'

       They all went silent for about a minute.

Page 3-6.

       'He wouldn't cut them off, would he?' Smith broke the silence. 'Cut them off all of us? Another collection?' She was smelling the message good and clear, starting to get the odour of my drift.

       I was the worst kind of breast cancer they could ever get. The mastectomy master and hometown proud. I took pride in the preciseness of my handy work, artistic, you might even say. I'd never just hacked a nipple off and didn't intend to start doing so now.

       'Stop it. We're going to over power him and we're going to kill him like I said at the start. I already bettered him by myself and now there's three of us. He will not live to torture or mutilate us.' Fawcett was forceful and determined but she just didn't get the point. What did it matter now that she'd bettered me? When what really mattered was she couldn't keep it bettered and would pay the extra price for trying.

       'But what about the rape. What he tried at your car and now we're all here together. Surely he'll want to, you know, do it to us. Each one of us.' Smith wouldn't let up on expressing her fears which they all had so it didn't have to be said.

       'Just shut up. You've brought this on us, now, so just shut up. Let me think how we're going to over power him again.'

       Fawcett was mean to her friend. She had that in her to be extra bitchy. It would not serve her well while in my hands, not while she was in my clutches. She knew how to fight dirty and didn't hesitate to ball kick me and she was all set to slice my dip stick off too, so she had the meanness in her (and occasionally it showed up in her business dealings also). She just wasn't anywhere near the match for me. When it came to mean, she was a comparative amateur and I was the machine, the mean machine who thought 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' was a children's story. Chainsaws are stupid.  Hat pins and soldering irons and scalpels are intelligent.

       Some words and definitions just drive me crazy with excitement.

       A scalpel is a very sharp knife used for surgery.

       The blades on scalpels are extremely sharp.

       Merely touching a scalpel with bare hands to test it will cut through the skin.

       Scalpel blades are gradually curved for greater precision when cutting through tissue.

       Yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Yeah. (What do you think Smith?)

       I'd have to tell Fawcett to ask Ladd what she thinks of that.

       Debate all the merits and techniques, so to say.

       Any styles and manufactures of choice?

       Fuck, as often I do, I've run off track again. Back to the good stuff at hand.

       Now they went silent for a bit and then Fawcett dictated 'the plan' (her plan). 'We have to entice him, and the only thing we can use are our bodies. Jackie, you have to entice him. He warmed up to you and you set him free so he owes you whether he knows it or not. He owes his life to you because I was going to kill him so you have to appeal to him on those grounds. On that level, that you thought enough of him to take a chance on freeing him and he shouldn't disappoint your trust.' Fawcett paused for air. God could she go on, especially with the screaming later and much later.

Page 3-7.

       Then she continued, 'You have to convince him you'd be willing to co-operate having sex with him if that would let him let us go.'

       'Oh no. Never. I couldn't, not after what he said. What he did to you. He's already abused your breasts, your nipples and he'll probably abuse mine too. No I couldn't, never.' Smith wailed.

       'Shut up. Just listen and shut up. We're not going to get a second, second chance, a third chance so you have to use your wiles, the promise of your body and extra special sex to lure him into our trap.' Fawcett thought she knew everything about traps.

       She had so much to learn if she'd gotten the chance.

       'No. No. I won't. I can't.'

       Fawcett ignored her protests. 'You'll probably have to do it with him, right to the end, until he cums in you a couple of times.'

       'No. No. But what if he doesn't use a condom? What if he infects me?' Smith sniveled more. I was losing my respect for her courage but never for her face or her body. Still it was as much fun to fuck with her mind so it somewhat mattered.

       'I don't know but you can't try anything, aggressive or hostile or give off any kind of vibes of how repulsed and disgusted you are, to gain his trust. You have to get him to want you that way and not the attack you way. Then when he's had a taste of that,  (God, I loved her choice, choice of words, a taste of her. Yeah, I'd stick my fork in her fried clit and eat it.) you'll have to suggest that Cheryl join in. A threesome. All men fantasize about that sort of thing.' Know it all Fawcett, I didn't, lots of other things, but more one on one. Soul to soul communication, if I'd had a soul.

       'And if I'm freed too, what then?' Ladd asked. 'What will you do then?'

       'He'll never trust me enough to free me, not after I defeated him. You'll have to over power him, just the two of you and I'll kill him. I will love to kill him and this time I'll finish what I promised, I'll castrate him for real and stomp on his severed balls with my boot and smash his rod with a hammer while he watches and bleeds to death. I'll rub my pussy in his face while he bleeds to death. He'll be sorry. It'll be the worst day of his perverted, degenerate life and he'll be the worst kind of sorry.'

Page 3-8.

       I was jacking off in Smith's undies just listening to Fawcett knowing how utterly perfectly she had just described her own plight, the fates of them all. I blew a quart right into the front of her silk and it left a nice elongated wet stain, I'd have to decide whether to get another pair of them for when I decided to confront them or leave the cum stained ones on to add to the dramatic effect and their discomfort. Also, the only thing I was remotely sorry about was I wasn't recording it all. She was so sure her plan would work, the tone of her confidence, it all was so delicious and ironic.

       'So what am I supposed to do when I'm so afraid of him and loath him so much?' Smith asked.

       'You have to rise above it. Go beyond it. You're an extremely beautiful woman and your body is so perfect so that's what you have to use. They're your only tools right now.' Fawcett, stupid cunt, had it all figured out. (except that I might be listening and hearing every idea.)

       'And then get him to include Cheryl? That's the key?' Smith sort of questioned as she fought the idea of giving herself to me. Of letting me fuck her a couple of times to gain my trust. I wondered if she'd offer to let me bugger her but pretty well assumed she wouldn't. As if that mattered or would make a difference to her asshole getting it.

       I loved it. I fucking loved it and would love to have thanked Fawcett with a nipple love bite off, or at least bite it split open.

       I was prepared, actually fully prepared to go along with it, like it would be a consensual sex, like making love and I'd see how much she'd compromise herself. How much she'd give as I hurt her just a little in little sexual ways. Test her resolve and willingness to act it all out to keep the ruse going. It would be a fine line between acceptable torture and unacceptable torture and how exquisite it would be walking that line. If I wanted to put a needle, one of my pearl topped, special hat pins, through her nipple, sideways (like when they did actual tattoo parlor nipple piercings) would she let me if (when) that was what I wanted to do? We'd see how determined she was to please me. Or if I told her to do it to herself and then to Ladd, would she comply? What if I asked her to put a lit cigarette out in her cunt, just to hear the little sizzle and the big scream? And then Ladd's?

Page 3-9.

       Stupid bitches, they had no fucking idea. They never had any idea. That's the thing with these cunts and all cunts in general. All they ever fear in the cock (usually a ridiculously oversized black one) rammed into the vagina (and maybe being murdered, found in the woods, naked and undignified). They don't go to the good stuff. Let's face it, no average sized man, prick wise can damage a woman's cunt with his cock. The fucking thing, her fucking cunt is designed for the thing, to be penetrated so while they often think unwanted vaginal penetration by a penis is the fate worse than death, that's a joke. That's a school girl's myth, a virgin's mistake. A cock shoved in to a cunt is nothing. They call it rape when it should be called recreation, the prelude to the main events. Foreign objects shoved in a cunt or directed at nipples, that's getting more to the real definition. And not to omit, all manner of lines and devices for constraining and pulling and stretching and especially suspending. Suspending, (by the nipples? Sort of more like way, way up on their tippy toes, arched way back with my tongue swilling around in their cunts) fuck, fuck and oh fuck. I get horny just describing it all.

       Anyhow, I was pretty well ready to prance out into the open and let them view me, react to my new attire. Funny I had the same taste as Smith in underwear. The tip of my cock was almost out the top, out the waist band of them and I felt really proud and ready to get at getting into them and then Ladd caught me by surprise.

       'What if we do it together. Woman to woman, offer to? Then maybe he'll free us to watch that and not rape us right away and we could get the chance to over power him without his, him doing any penetrating.'

       I was intrigued and somewhat proud of Ladd. She hadn't shown much sexual initiative, up until now. I mean she was really beautiful and all, but if I had to chose one of the three to waste, she would be the first to get it. Right up through the vix, her cervix she'd be done while the other two watched. Now I wasn't so sure and besides, what about watching them masturbate? Not each other, but themselves. That should be good for a hoot. Three sets of hands jigging away at three clits. A trio. Like a race but the last one finished wins.  (Although they wouldn't be told that in advance.) Awesome. Fucking fantastic awesome.

       I had to have it and soon. I was ready to make the noises indicating I had returned in from outside when Fawcett responded.

Page 3-10.

       'Cher, that could work. I never thought of it and he might even release me, free me to take part in it, like an orgy, like when he'd piled on top of us before. Good girl. I'm sorry for barking at you. Blaming you. Let me think about it some more...'

       With that I opened and closed the side door loudly. They went dead quiet. I wanted to prolong their fears, their fright but couldn't wait any longer. Besides, I just didn't want to wait any longer. I could because I could.

       I strutted in proud as a peacock with Smith's bra on and her cum stained panties stretched tight across my boner. I though I looked magnificent. Like a stallion in drag.

       They all looked and their eyes dropped and Smith gasped.

       I think they all did but Smith probably recognized the ensemble as her stuff.

       'Hi cunts. What do you think?'

       None of them said anything.

       I went around to stand right in front of Smith.

       'Recognize these?' I pulled out on the leg hole of her panties. She averted her eyes.

       I reached down and took her sweet head by the hair on each side and forced her to look up. My cock was a foot from her face and I so bad wanted to jig it around in her mouth I...

       'What about this?' I said wiggling my chest with her bra on. 'Look better on me than you? (I had to be kidding.) Does it?'

       She wouldn't answer.

       I pulled on her hair harder.

       'Does it look better on me than you?' I repeated.

       'Please. Please. I don't know. I. What do you want me to do, to say? Smith pleaded.

       'The fucking truth. Is that so hard?'

       She pleaded with her eyes, fought her impulses to lie and finally attested to, 'No, it looks ridiculous on you. They are mine and I'd appreciate you not wearing them or soiling in them.'.

       (Soiling. Soiling? If she'd had enough time left, I could make her a fucking baby with it if I wanted to. What a fucking disgusting attutude. Soiling? Yeah. I'd soil in her asshole and pour acid in her ears and piss on her grave.)

Page 3-11.

       'You mean the stain, my sea men stain? The little sailors got away from me thinking of you being inside them, inside such nice silk.  Look how they pull so tight across. Fucking delicious. Don't you think? Something you'd like to eat, to swallow?' I taunted her.

       She didn't answer. She was ashamed and angry.

       I said meaner, 'Don't you think, bitch?'

       'Leave her alone.' Fawcett piped up. 'You're tormenting her, making fun of her and you look like a freak in her underwear, so leave her alone.'

       I stalked around directly to face Fawcett. She looked defiant and determined. I took her head in my hands by the hair on each side (just like Smith) and pressed my boner tight to her face. I pushed her face up and down against me. She tried to twist away so I pressed my thumbs hard into her ears. She screamed out. 'Stop it. I'm sorry. I just didn't want you being that way to my friend. Please stop hurting me.' (Hurting her? I was controling her and she'd well get to know the difference.)

       I let go of her skull and reached down and in for one of her nipples and pinched her special hard and just said two little words while looking her straight in the eyes.

       'I keep.' (Just like someone just learning English)

       She shuddered. No I hadn't forgotten. It wasn't a mistake what I'd said before and was only to happy to remind her of. She shuddered again even deeper. They all did.

       I went back around to Smith.

       Ladd was just sort of there, for now, but her turn would come and when it did, fuck almighty, would she be fun. Let's just say, for now, she won the cunt stretching contest.

       'So what about it?' I asked.

       'What about what? Smith was confused.

       'You don't want me to wear them? Soil them? Fucking jerk off in them?'

       'Well of course not...' She seemed indignant, almost sure of herself and strong.

       'So I guess I'd better take them off?'

       'Well. But..' She stammered.

       'Well but what? I guess I'd better take them off now?'

       'Please. I don't know. No. I meant... Oh please.'

       'Tell me to take them off now.' I stared right full into her  beautiful scared face. Her brown eyes were soft and pleading. ('I'm a person. I'm a person. I'm not just breasts and a...my hips. Don't do this to me. I don't deserve it. None of us deserve it.')

       She knew just what I was getting at.

Page 3-12.

       She squirmed and fidgeted and there was nothing but electric silence.

       I stood up over her, towering menacing, moving my super boner (by now) within a couple of inches of her exquisite face. I was all set to rub against her cheek, her mouth..

       'Very well. Please take them off now and don't put them on again.' She blurted out.

       I stepped back a bit and stripped naked. My cock fell down and forward like a lance and I pinched my nipples after her bra dropped to the floor. I stooped down and picked up the cum stained panties (still damp and slimy) and rubbed them across her cheek, across her lips.

       'Don't. Stop it. Please don't.'

       'Open your mouth.' I ordered her.

       'No. Don't please I don't want...'

       'Open you fucking mouth or I'll cut one of their nipples off and make you chew it.'

       She opened wide with no further delay or resistance.

       There was weakness in numbers which they all would discover many times over.

       I stuffed her panties full into her mouth being sure the cum was onto her tongue, I told her to shut her mouth and kissed her. Her cheeks were filled out like a squirrel's and she looked sort of comical, silly but it was fucking beautiful. My squirt was in her mouth, on her tongue, on her panties I'd just worn. So much for civility and good manners, being considerate of her sensibilities. I told her to stay that way while I moved around to visit Ladd.

       I was buck naked and she was pretty well petrified. I hadn't paid her much attention and she might be beginning to think she was going get off lighter. I lowered my knob within an inch of her perfect mouth and perfect white teeth. Her eyes widened as she fully expected me to tell her to open up and suck it. Instead, I turned to the side and swung around batting her on the side of her head with the shaft and the knob. It made the nicest thud/slapping sound, like a beaver's tail. I looked at her again. She was timid but defiant.

       I wanted some more batting practise.

Page 3-13.

       'What do you think I want?' I toyed with her.

       She obviously knew. But not how to say it. As if putting it into words would make it happen and not saying it would keep it from happening. She didn't want to mention anything about doing her cunt, drawing specific attention to her crotch.

       'What do I want? Bitch?'

       Still she resisted and I cock slapped her against the other side of her head even harder, not that it really hurt, it was just the symbolism and control. Her beautiful face and my rod smacking it.

       She blurted out, 'To rape me. You want to rape me. To rape me. To rape all of us. You want to rape. To rape. You want to rape..'

       She was having some kind of fit, some kind of nervous reaction or breakdown, like a short circuit in her fear center was controlling her speech.

       'Enough already.' But I loved it for a bit longer.

       'You want to rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. You want us. Us. Us. You want..'

       I gave her a hard backhand across her cheek. Her head snapped sideways and she stopped with the jibber jabber, the gibberish. I looked her dead in the eyes.

       'You almost got it right. Yes, I want to rape you and t..o..r..t..u..r..e you.' I spelled it out one letter at a time but didn't say the most loaded and excellent of words. 'What do you think of that?'

       'Oh please. No. No. Never. Don't please. Not torture..'

       It seemed like her tits got smaller. Trying to hide. And I sensed her thighs squeeze together. She knew. She knew what was coming.

       'Not just torture. Sexual torture. Deep, intimate, private sexual torture. That's what I want. Unless...'

       'Unless? Unless what? Please. reply what.' She was both hopeful and desperate.

       'Unless the two of you, Smithy and you co-operate in a threesome with me. Just you two. I wouldn't trust this one since she attacked me and was so strong and evil and violent. Just the two of you. What do you think about doing that?'

       There was such a dead silence.

       I was asking (of them) just what they had planned, what they had been talking about.

Page 3-14.

       Was it a coincidence? Fawcett had already wondered how I'd come into the living room so fast, in just the under wear after they heard the door open and close. Had I been outside like that which I could have been since no one was ever around to see, or had I been listening secretly all along. She couldn't tell for sure and even though she was suspicious, it looked like right now their chance was materializing.

       'So what's the answer. You two up for it? The three way?'

       'If you promise not to hurt us or to hurt Farrah any more, we'll agree to it.' Smith had answered instead of Ladd. She was willing to barter, to put her cunt on the line (their cunts) thinking she wouldn't have to deliver. What a pathetic, sop of a victim, she was. If she'd seen what else was in my rape kit, she never would have agreed.

       I moved around to face her.

       'Sounds fair. So where would you like to do it? I asked.

       They paused and then Ladd took the initiative again. 'A bedroom would seem logical, one of our bedrooms.'

       'Sounds great to me. Fuck, I can hardly wait.'

       I rubbed my hands together like a gleeful person blessed.

       I was appearing giddy, like a kid with a new toy, like I wasn't paying attention to remaining in full and absolute control (which I'd never, ever give up again). I wanted them to think I was unmindful, even careless. I wanted them to try.

       'How about yours?' I motioned to Fawcett. ' I'm already partial to it. The way you looked standing on it. Fuck. Fuck. Yours be OK?'

       Fawcett nodded and with that I was up and away and headed to her boudoir to set it all up just right.

       They were in for the least portion of the worst time of their lives. And I was in for the first of many of the best times of mine.

Chapter four. 

       The good stuff begins.

Page 4-1.

       I was fast into Fawcett's bedroom, all excited and naked and I began to assess the best way to proceed, sort of organized and scientific like, you might say. The more I looked around, the more I was a little put off. There was nothing at all wrong with it as a bedroom but I could see, pretty quickly, it was going to make for a piss poor torture chamber or a sexual abuse facility extreme, or s.a.f.e. Yeah, a safe house for them. Even the bed was a solid curved walnut affair with no where to tie ropes or anchor hooks to do some limb pulling and crotch stretching.

       I sat down, half disappointed, trying to locate the deeper problem. Something wasn't right (besides me) and it was bugging me a bit. Why was I unsettled and dissatisfied? I was up wandering about and farted around in her underwear drawer again. What wasn't already on the floor, soon was, and I dressed in her stuff the same as I had Smith's. It was just something that felt good to do, an added little kick at their integrity. Her briefs, by Hanes, were off-white, sort of ivory and were a bit tighter, and her bra also, than Smith's, which made sense since I took her for one to one and a half sizes smaller, maybe fifteen pounds lighter. Anyhow, just enough smaller that everything would be tighter. She would be at a distinct disadvantage for the cunt stretching contest I was beginning to formulate and fantasize about. Stretch 'em until they break. Stretch 'em until they rupture asunder.

       But then again, all wasn't lost for her because when it came to the tit fucking deal, she'd have the advantage. Smaller, hard tits take the grinding of a stiff cock against them much better than larger, softer ones. And my boner would really have to bear down to get to the orgasm. It took a fucking lot of pressure, full body weight, back arched way up, my feet waving all about, hand gripped into her twat, pinching, twisting and clawing, grinding across her tit mound with my bugger bat for me to cum.

Page 4-2.        

        Of course it helped plenty if they were tied just right, spread eagled, pulled tight, with a book, or some other hard object with no give, jammed under their back underneath the tit that was being fucked. With everything just right, optimum conditions, you might say, it still could take at least the half hour of excruciating, ecstatic thrusting, of feeling  the tit crunching against her chest bones to deliver her the juice. The biggest variable was how much and how they begged me to stop. Not one fucking bitch rack ever liked it. I guess tits weren't designed for that kind of action. I only wished I could figure out a way to fuck nipples. There was a science to good tit fucking and I was quite self-satisfied that I had mastered it.  I'd smeared a lot of chests, many several times and I was about to acquire the absolute best tit fuck of all, unexpectedly, in just a few hours. I'm afraid this all may be getting to technical and boring, so back to my immediate problem.

       My problem was one of riches. Now I knew it clear. I laid on Fawcett's bed, on her white satin sheets, and rubbed her silk pillow (I could smell her scent on it.) against my cock in her underwear. But what the Hell, the real thing was down stairs, just waiting in splendid fear and I was up to doing this which I did often by myself when I didn't have a captured live cunt or two laying about all tied up.

       What it was? I hadn't counted on having two more and such raving beauties that they were, I didn't want to rush any part of it. Not one fucking fuck or nipple bite, and certainly not their unveilings. And yet, for me, even if I kept them the full four days of the holiday weekend, that would be rushing it. To do it all right, to really get into their skin, into their pores, to absorb their bodily fluids, I needed lots more time, even weeks into months.

       And to use the special holding, torture room facilities I had painstakingly and lovingly constructed back at my own place, which was also remote and hidden but was two hours away by back roads; to use my own arrangements the solution became quite obvious.

Page 4-3.

       What was the point of starting in on Smith and Ladd right now (I kept forgetting how weak I could be) if I couldn't do it right? If I felt I had to rush, that would be no fun, well maybe some kicks, but no where near what it could be if approached like a science, like a mission, methodically and creatively.

       As much as I was ready to cunt slap the two of them, I knew I had to transport them. It's not that that was impossible. I had my specialized, no extra windows, rape victim, capture van with me on this mission but it was a complete change of plans.

       Since I'd gone to kill Fawcett, to relieve her of her life, after I paid her back for getting away from me, probably four days and nights of almost non-stop abuse and torture of her would have done the trick, would have evened the score and satisfied my cock's wonderful sense of justice, so I really didn't have any intention of transporting just one cunt or what was left of it. If I fucked her every three or four hours she'd still get a good twenty or so rammings which I figured might be enough along with all the other evils I had planned for her. Hell, I still had to face it, she only had one set of nipples and they could only be bunged so much without being given time to heal.

       But now there were three of them, six fucking buds to bugger, three clits in a circle. No bloody way I could do justice to my craft, to abusing them, without time and all my tools and mechanical and burning devices and stuff for stretching and suspending and piercing them.

       I was decided, we were all going to move.

       Now I knew and it was good.

       I got up and went down stairs to have a really good look, an inspection, you might say, of what I had just acquired, what was now my property, to view an unbelievable dream picture, pretty well forgetting I had Fawcett's stuff on. It seemed and felt perfectly normal to me.

Page 4-4.

       'You're sick.' She spat out when she saw how her panties were cum stained and wet by now also. Her bra was sheer and transparent and my hard nipples poked through. From her intimate knowledge, she knew right away they were hers I was violating. I guess that's why they call them intimates.

       I back handed her without warning. When her head flew to the side, I punched her full fist to the side of her tit and caught her enough that it mattered.

       She cried out like a scream, 'No. No. I'm sorry. Don't.'

       She hadn't expected I'd tit bash her. Like her breasts were something special. Off limits for a hit or a blow. No low blows. No punching below the armpits. (No kicking in the crease.)

       I grabbed her legs which were still tied at the ankles and pulled them straight out to straighten them. It forced her to fall back, to tilt back but she was already against the other two so her neck got pulled tight, sort of twisted, in the loop around the three of them. She sort of choked and gurgled and they all started to, like, cough. With her legs now straight, the bottom of her dress was hiked up and her ivory panties (the exact same kind as I had on) showed nicely. I stared right down at her barely mounded silk triangle. It was tiny and compact and matched her ass which I'd seen full bare already.

       'They look just like mine. Imagine that.' I paused. 'I'll tell you what, let's say we trade. Pull a switch-a-roo.'

       She glared at me fierce.

       'I guess you'd rather not. I take that as a no. Is that right?' I teased her, bated her.

       She tried in vain to turn her legs to cover her exposed patch over. Her dress rode up further. Perfect. It was doing my bidding, not hers.

       'What? Please.' She was cowed by my violent outburst. Still in a little shock. It was so lightning quick and her tit hurt something awful. I hadn't caught her full front, on purpose, so I'd be sure to smash some of the fatty tissue against her chest wall, against her bone structure so stuff got all split and crushed. Like a planned tit demolition, and sort of like using a hammer.

Page 4-5.

       'I guess you'd rather not exchange undies then?' I said as I pulled out on the waist band of mine and let them snap back. She was half looking up. Her eyes looked so helpless. I was a foot from her face, looming and proud. Almost getting giddy, I loved it so much.

       'No please. That's right. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. You hurt me.' She paused. 'again. Again. Stop hurting me. Enough is enough.' (As if I could ever, in a dozen life times, get enough of hurting her. She really had no idea what was in store for her. As I mentioned before, she should have got me to shoot her dead. Even a bunch of bullets in her cunt would have been better even with a couple more through her tits, than what was awaiting her, them all.)

       I went back to her pleas.

       'Then stop being such a fast mouthed bitch. You may get away with it doing your work but you'll never, never ever, get away with doing it with me. You understand? You stupid cunt?'

       I squeezed her cheeks hard together, pinched her face and smeared the trace of her lipstick that was left, with my thumb, to make my point. I kissed her mean, biting her face. She shook my hand off.

       'No. Stop. Leave my face. Don't hurt my face.' I let go of her meanly giving her an extra hard twist.

       'Do you understand?' I barked again.

       'Yes. Yes. I understand. I..' She pretty well barked it right back at me, defiant and sarcastic, anyway, with enough attitude she needed more teaching.

       I smashed her again to the side of the same tit in the same spot. It was faster and harder than lightning.

       She screamed out, shrieking and the other two began with a chorus of telling me to stop and you're hurting her. (So what and no shit.)

       'You two want it instead?' I asked. I spun to the side and I made like I was going to slug Smith in the tit also.

Page 4-6.

       'No. Please don't. Please, oh don't.' She was really afraid for the sex in her breasts. Her femininity and image, the profile of her chest. I suppose how she looked in a bathing suit.

         'Fine. Fine, then keep your cunt mouths shut.' I replied.

       I was back to Fawcett and she was mewling, sort of sniveling and whimpering, which surprised me a bit about her. Some power bitch. I am woman. I am strong. I'm a cry baby. But then too, I guess, two good hard punches, like hammer drives, close together done viciously and meanly and with pleasure would unsettle most beautiful women. I guess. Anyhow, who the fuck cared? Who the fuck cared about her tits, right then, other than her and me? (and hopefully some readers who care to visualize her predicament)

       I pulled her head back by her hair and gave her my best straight, no foolin' look and said, 'Now exactly what were we talking about? What were you saying?'

       'Please don't hit me there again. You'll damage me. Cancer can start from blows like that, breast cancer, and my sister already had...so please, and yes, I understand what you were saying. OK? OK? I understand. OK?'

       'Your sister had tit cancer? Do they look as good as yours? Or did they cut them off, hack them off and sew the nipples, her real nipples, back on? Often they don't. They make new ones and you know sometimes they get them in the wrong place, the wrong position, and they look ugly, stupid and fantastic.' I'd done one with reconstructed breasts and that's a whole other story.

       'Stop it. You're completely disgusting. My sister died from it.' (boo hoo)

       'If she looked like you, that was a waste. How old?'

       'Leave her memory alone. Please. I only had one...Please.'

       'Fair enough, but you do understand?' I said.

       'Yes, I already said I do.'

       'That's great. See you didn't have to get all uppity and raise your attitude to me. No percentage in that. It wasn't a good idea, was it?' I played with her.

Page 4-7.            

       'No. I'm sorry. It wasn't.' She had gone all mushy and was wimping out.        Fucking cunt baby.

       I guess she really loved her sister. I would like to have too, the two of them at once, together. I'd done sisters before and they were just about as good as mothers and daughters, which I'd done two pairs of the latter. And once I did a mom and two of her daughters. Now that's a whole other story (in the making).

And depending upon the age of the kid, God did that make the mothers insane and the incredible extra lengths and self-scarifices they'd make to try to keep their kid alive and not be buggered badly before being murdered right in front of their eyes. Oh yeah, it was better than sweet. And the cherries I got were the sweetest when you figure they still had developing tits and clits.

       'So what about the other?' I started in again.

       'What? Please? I said I understand.' I don't know if she was that confused or it was just a good act.

       She was going in squares backwards.

       'What about, you know?' I fucking loved it, each drawn out second of it.

       She just looked blank, non-comprehending. With that I reached in and hooked my fingers inside the leg holes of her panties and pulled lightly out.

       'No. No. Don't please. Stay away from me.' She contracted into herself, sort of protective. She wanted to protect her womanhood. She didn't want to share it which seemed kind of selfish to me and her gesture erotic, and ever so pointless.

       'But we're going to exchange them, aren't we?'

       'Please no. No.' She pleaded.

       'But I thought we agreed. You agreed.'

       'No. No. I never. No. Not...' She was sputtering .

       I pulled harder straight out and then a little off to the side. Her fuzz was showing clear and the beginning, one side of her labia (majora). Yeah, her little ones were all inside, nothing was outside, all neat and precise and tidy.

       I just held it like that and said, 'So are we or aren't we?'

       She struggled to reply, but finally came out with a timid, ' Oh very well but how can I with...'

       I'd had my switch blade on stand by and clicked the blade open in a flash. I cut the nylon tie about her ankles with one swipe and her knees parted and her legs spread and wider.

       I let her undies snap back to cover her cunt.

Page 4-8.

       They were the only protection she had and I had a knife in my hand. How appropriate. How delicious. How tempting.

       Just one little stab.

       Just one little labia slice.    

       Now she just looked at me petrified. She wanted, more than anything, for me to put the blade down. I sort of aimed the tip at her crotch and laid the knife beside her. She seemed relieved but now, how could she stop it? How could she stop me from seeing her cunt bare close up? She would be the first of the three and even though I'd already seen her bare tits (and abused them) there was always something more significant about the vagina getting involved, getting violated. It was the crux, the bulls eye for sadistic dreams and activities. She was petrified and furious at the same time and the others were crying softly now. Trying not to hear the sounds. They didn't want their friend being abused but never offered to take her place. Selfish, self-preserving little twats. You'd have thought one of them would have offered.

       'So, anytime you're ready, just say.' I said.

       'Please don't. Please.'

       'That doesn't sound like you're ready, like you'll ever be ready. Maybe your tit needs some more cancer.' I raised my fist.

       'No. I'm ready. What ever it is. I'm ready.' Now I finally believed her.

       'That's the smart girl, Farrah. That's much better. So what are we doing?'

       'We're exchanging underwear. we're changing into each other's. What we have on.'

       'Perfect. Just perfect. You're...'

       With that, I slid mine down and off and my prick was out like the horizontal flag pole again. I stuffed my damp underwear into the side of her bra where I'd drilled her tit. She winced.

       I knelt down and ran my hands up her legs from above her knees to her inner thighs. She was never so tense. Her inner thigh muscles trembled and tightened. Her crotch started to squirm. Her face was perfectly resistant.

Page 4-9.

         Her brain was on fire. She'd fully expected this, in some form, but now that it was happening it was much worse than she'd thought it could be, much more demeaning and a threat to her womanhood. She thought if she had to, if there was no way out of it,  she could handle it better. Be stronger. I was coming for her fucking pussy. Why should she be able to handle it? Why did she have the nerve to think she could handle me, manage me, manage her own sexual assault? Arrogant, in control, good looking bitch syndrome, I suppose. A perfect bust and smash candidate.

       'Relax. Just relax. It won't be so bad.' I soothed her. 'You'll see. I know what I'm doing. I know how to treat a woman, and how to mistreat her, if I want to.  But, you'll see, you'll feel I can please you.'

       She wasn't hearing or accepting any of my talk about finesse.

       I brushed the knuckle of my index finger across her crease, across her slit. Her mounds felt sublime under the quivering silk. Now she outright re-coiled and clamped her eyes shut. I studied her beautiful face all contorted and pinched. Her chin quivered too and her face flushed bright red, like she was embarrassed. Like she was blushing, but she wasn't. It was anger and humiliation and helplessness and being touched inappropriately. I was inappropriately brushing her cunt through the silk of her thin panties. I could feel her bristle.  Even her cunt hairs bristled. Oh, so fucking perfect.

       It was the very first time in her life, her vagina was actually being sexually compromised and I was surprised someone hadn't raped her before I got to her. She always looked like she needed to be raped. Some one should have sucker punched her tits in an elevator and then sucker kneed her crotch.

       And that was also the very first vaginal contact I'd made with any of them. It was sweeter than the sweetest honey pot. It was life at its pinnacle.  I owned every component of her vagina, which made her a woman possessed by a pervert. Now I could wrap her soul around my prick and stick her spirit up my ass.

Page 4-10.

       I hooked my index fingers into each leg hole and started to pull harder. I loved the way the satin stretched across her labia, pulled down and in, deepening her shallow crease. Of course, her ass was sitting on her panties so they didn't want to give enough to come down. I reached around and down and under her sweet cheeks and worked them down under her rump from the waistband. I was pushed right up against her to do it and to move back away, I grabbed onto her slugged tit for leverage and squeezed. She screeched out.

       'No. No. No. Stop. No.'

       'Oh, I'm sorry. I should have used this one.' I said as I took hold of her undamaged tit, like a handle, and pushed myself the rest of the way away.

       Now I re-hooked my index fingers into her panty leg holes and they started to slide down readily and smoothly .

       There was no going back.

       There was nothing she could do to stop it, except maybe shit herself which she didn't. I guess she never thought of it and it only would have delayed the inevitable anyway.

       The top of her pubic hair was showing and she was a natural blonde. About another inch and the crease would start to show. I was in absolutely no hurry because I could only see it once for the first time. Gradually I started to pull down again for the true unveiling and her slit became half out. Fuck was she tidy. Her minora all hidden. Absolutely nothing extra outside. Precise and hard, nothing loose.

       I studied her slight, fear movements. Her fear was great, her spasms, little.

       She wanted me to stop.

       She needed re-assuring.

       I finished pulling down.

       It all showed.

       She was all bared.

Page 4-11.

       She squirmed as I slobbered looking at her. Staring at her. Devouring it with my eyes and my cock straighter that a bat, like the poker she'd used on me in the fireplace. God, I wished I had it right now, barbed end and all. Better off that I didn't. I wanted to fuck her first undamaged.

       She could hardly breath and sort of gasped and jerked. She was so afraid I was going to reach in and penetrate her with my hands, my greedy, probing fingers. My finger nails. (She wasn't even thinking of foreign objects and certainly not ones that burn or roast.)

       I didn't.

       I didn't stick my fingers in her...yet.

       I kept pulling down until her panties were full off and rubbed them all across my face. I could smell the fear in her cunt in them. Fuck. Fuck and fuck. She smelled beyond sweet. I needed a break or my balls would explode and my dick fly off. I'd already jumped out of my fore-skin when I dealt with the young cunt from Gilmore Girls, and now this.

       I stood up and moved around and rubbed them across Smith's and Ladd's faces while Fawcett's bare pussy waited and stewed, quivered with fear and loathing.

       'You two smell like this?'

       They wouldn't answer, they considered it so degrading.

       'Oh, the silent treatment. I guess I'll have to find out for myself then,' I paused just relishing their discomfort, 'or are you going to tell me?'

       They looked at each other in dismay. Had I no shame, making them say about such private matters?

       'Do you two sweet fucks smell like that?' I rubbed the panties across their mouths, one after the other.

       Smith jerked her face to the side and finally answered, 'Oh please, stop degrading us. You know there'll be an odor, Not exactly the same but a similar one, but you know it. So please stop being so gross...'

       'Gross. Gross? I'll show you gross...' I just sounded angry, play acted angry and so loved the developing dynamics. She was easy to set up, to lead her where I wanted.

Page 4-12.

       She thought I was really pissed, but I just wanted to hit her. I always had.

       I'd always wanted to tit bash Jaclyn Smith.

       'No. No. please..'

       I drew my fist back.

       'No. Please. I meant grossly insensitive to our needs.'

       'Well I think you need this then.'

       I drove Smith the same way to the side of her tit as I did Fawcett. I surprised even myself. I hadn't intended to do it so soon. I wanted to keep her perfect for a long time before I started to unload on her, started in on her in earnest with the real damage, but it flashed and my fist connected and she fucking hollered bloody murder and then sobbed. She'd never, in her entire charmed life, been so mistreated. Her breast was horrified and injured.

       'No. No. How could you? Why?' She sort of mumbled and Ladd tried to comfort and protect her.

       'Jackie, be quiet. Don't say any more to antagonize him. Just don't...Or he'll hit you again. I think he likes to hit us.'

       Astute cunt that she was, she got it just right.

       Now I was back in front of Fawcett and proudly put her panties on. They were just the same only not cum stained. I pulled the ones I'd had in her bra out and wiped the damp cum across her lips. Then I fed them over her feet onto her legs. He legs were extra long and beautifully toned and I couldn't wait to spread them really wide using my stretching devices and hang her upside down by them with the broken broom handle stuffed in her cunt. (The one I'd smashed her shins with in chapter three.) I worked the panties over her knees up to her inner thighs. I couldn't get them along any further. She was straining with nowhere to go. Wriggling like a worm on a hook and it made her jiggle.

       Now I encountered the most delicious of problems. I tried gripping her hard by the inner thigh to lift her up a little to slide the panties under and up over her ass. She'd scream out I was hurting her and I left really red finger marks on her, almost bruises. It just didn't want to work very well.

Page 4-13.

       After four tries, I took a pause and said to her, 'This isn't working. You know what the obvious solution is, don't you?'

       'What? No? What? If you'd do it faster, they'd go under me when I lift, but..'

       'You're saying I'm not really trying?'

       She could smell the trap and backed right off.

       'You know the obvious, though don't you?'

       'No. Please. What? Are you talking about?'

       I don't think she was ready for this.

       'If I stick my fingers right into your cunt, hook my fingers under the bone, I can lift you up by it. Will you let me do that?'

       Well she fucking freaked. All the bile and hostility she'd stored up and tried to contain spilled out and exploded. She didn't care. At that moment all she saw was red and me dead.

       'You. You stinking bastard. You degenerate bastard. You can hit me all you want but I'll never let you. I won't ever, ever let you. You may force me and have me do it. Go to Hell. Go all and straight and ever to Hell. I should have killed you.  I should have murdered you the first chance I had instead of tying you up. And I swear I'll do it. I'll get you again and you're dead.'

       'Well that seems unlikely. I mean, your chance is gone for good. Little miss good Samaritan here (I tousled Smith's hair) took care of that, now didn't she?'

       'Go to Hell. You tricked her, fooled her and took advantage of her loving and kind nature. She's gentle and good. She's never hurt a fly but you hurt everything. You destroy everything. So go ahead and force me but I'll never let you. Never. Never..'

       Fuck I just loved it. The wimp was gone and the attitude bitch back.

       Now it was time to play dirty.

       Get into her face and her spirit.

       I stared her cold in her ice blue eyes. They were still blazing.

Her chin raised defiant. Her mouth curled up like a snarl.

       Still, she was trembling and shaking from her outpouring of anger. It had almost exhausted her, but not quite.

Page 4-14.

       'What about them? What about her, gentle and good?'

       I put my hand on Smith's head like I cared.

       Then I took hold of her hair and pulled hard. As her head twisted to the side she yelped. I pulled harder and twisted. I used her skull for leverage.     

       Smith cried out louder and Fawcett didn't respond.

       She was still hyperventilating from her big emotional show and outburst. Her academy performance. Defiant cunt, that was good for someone's nipple coming off.

       I moved around again in front of Smith.

       She looked so meek and vulnerable, so gentle and good. So defenceless and completely at my mercy. Her beautiful, incredible body was completely at my mercy, which I had none of. It wasn't that it was in short supply. I simply didn't have any of it, nor did I wish to.

       She said ever so softly, imploring, 'Please. I don't. Don't hurt me. I'm not strong...'

       That shows how little she knew about herself. A woman's cunt muscles are some of the strongest, elastic tissues around. Oh, she was strong, but , of course, I was stronger and I knew full well she hadn't meant that anyway and we'd both find out her tolerances (for pain).        

       I moved her shoulder back to put her breast, I'd already smashed, into a better position for another hard punch.

       I aligned her.

       I adjusted her.

       Her sweet fucking tit just crying. How could I dare? Why would I dare?

       It was like everything was suspended. All civility. All the rules. All frozen in time and her frozen with fear. Her breasts were so incredibly perfect and beautiful, so feminine and erotic and my fist just itched. My prick was as hard as it had ever been, like an icicle in a deep freezer.

       Time stopped.

       Our stares locked.

       Her eyes blinked in recognition, she blanched that split second just before I drove her again.

       Dead.

       Same.

       Spot.

Page 4-15.

       She screamed guttural and moaned and short of growled. It was like I was murdering her tit, the first degree kind.

       They all screamed and she sort of passed out but not all the way.

       I was back to Fawcett, 'Here's the deal, I'm gonna keep on smashing her in the same spot of her same tit until you ask me to lift you up by your cunt. You ask me to insert my fingers deep into you until I scratch your fucking cervix and hoist you up. So what'll it be?'

          Fawcett paused a bit and then begged, ' Don't hit her anymore. Please don't. We'll do it your way. We'll do it. Just don't strike her like that again.'

          Then she mumbled to herself, desolate,  'My cervix. My cervix. Oh God no. Please help me.'

          Like I already said, I owned every component of her sex and her sexual being. I even messed with her underwear and her aluring clothing.

       'Fine. Fine. So what are we doing?'

       'You're going to, no, I want you to put your fingers into my vagina and lift me up enough to get the panties all the way on.'

       'There. You see, that wasn't so hard to say was it? What was all that, I'll never? I'll never. You know what they say, 'Never say never.' and while we're at it, why don't you call me sir.'

       Now it was time for the good stuff.

       I knelt over her legs and positioned myself right square in front of her. She was trembling and ashamed, partly because she'd let her friend be hurt for no reason since now it was going to be done to her anyway and also because her cunt was naked before me. I had it staked out. Her little slit was cowering. And right now that was what she had become to me, nothing but her little slit.

       Fuck was I ready and she never would be.

       I don't know how she kept from pissing herself. (others had for less cause)

       I hovered my hand above her cunt and went to her belly button. I dug my fingernail into it.

       'No lint there.' I joked.

Page 4-16.

       I drew my middle and index fingers down her stomach, over her belly. Her skin crawled but she didn't dare show it. I stroked the top of her pubic hair now and sort of twisted and pulled it at the same time. She winced her beautiful mouth but her eyes were clamped tight shut.

       'Open your eyes. I want you to look down and watch.'

       At first she wouldn't, but knew better (by now) than not to comply for very long. My tit fist was ever ready and available.

       It loved its work. The feel of the crunch. I loved the sound of the fat splitting.

       My fingers were at the very top of her crease. I pressed ever so lightly and she separated just enough to pink out. Fuck was she beautiful. She smelled exquisite. The smell of her fear was like a drug. My balls were pounding in my head. Something was set to explode. (but not until the next chapter)

       I slid down another inch and started the way in. Her clit was right there. Right front to her opening.

       'You hold perfectly still. You don't fucking move even a cunt hair.' I was almost out of it with bliss. The tension was...

       'I have to see this. I fucking have to see what I own. My fucking property.'

          She was vibrating, sort of jiggling, uncontrollably. Her cunt lips were talking, like the begging, to be left alone.

       'I can't. I can't hold still. I'm too nervous. You're scaring me. Please just do what you said and lift me. You didn't say about..'

       'No. No fucking way. This is way too rich. I only get to do this for the first time once so I want it perfect, perfect. So hold perfect still.'

       'No. No. It's not fair. It's not what you said.' She begged. (The stupid cunt bitch was trying to control all the elements of her first cunt assault when she couldn't control any aspect of it.)

       She needed to take me seriously.

       She needed to learn.

       I got right up and went to my rape kit and came back with a five inch pair of blunt nosed pliers, about half an inch wide at the tips of the jaws.

Page 4-17.

       Her face contorted.

       I laid them on her leg at the top, sort of smirking, sort of almost coming again. She was seeing the first of my many tools, my surgical instruments, you could say. I considered them quite refined but I suppose a real surgeon would beg to differ. I knew she was going to beg to differ, and for different treatment.

       'Please. Oh please. Oh no. don't.'

       'You hold perfectly still and they stay there, I don't use them. You don't and you know where they're going, don't you?' (These are some of my all time favorite conversations with bitches. That and them pleading to live.)

       'Please. Please. No.'

       'You know, don't you?'

       'Please. I didn't mean. Oh God. Oh God, Please help me God.'

       'Tell me where I'll use them. Tell me.'

       'Please. God have mercy.'

       'If you don't hold still, where?' I could have kept it up all night, I could have danced all night (with her).

       'Into. Onto. Into my vagina. Onto my clitoris.' She sobbed as she broke down.

       'Onto your fucking clitoris, Farrah. Repeat it.' I said.

       'Onto my fucking clitoris. Oh please don't. Oh God help me.'

       Her voice was in tears.

       'You're one smart bitch so it seems we have an understanding, don't we?'

       She nodded her head, just barely and closed her eyes tight again to stifle her crying.

       I took her face in my hands and gave her a full, soft kiss on the lips.

       'Open your eyes.'

       She did and looked so sad and pitiful.

       I would have pitied her if I knew how to do it. 

       I ran my hands down to her good breast and circled and erected her nipple. Moved her breast flesh around in a circle, then pushing her up and letting it fall. She was full, and almost heavy, such a marvellous weight and shape. Nipples like small raspberries. Even some bumps and a couple of hairs and the slightest indentation, hole down the center. (That needed enlarging with a good sized nail, like a railway spike or an axe.)

Page 4-18.

       Now we were both there.

       Victor and victim.

       I looked her once more in the eyes and slid my fingers into her, spreading her and totally exposing her nub. I massaged her lightly. Fuck there were, there were no words. I was in clit heaven and there were two more to be revealed and explored (and pierced and burned and tortured). Without even touching myself I came in her undies again. She knew it but didn't say. I looked in her face self-satisfied. I was into my goal, why I'd gone there in the first place. I had, was succeeding again. I'd never failed yet.

       I ran my finger all around it at the base and over the slightly ridged body of her clit. She filled up with blood like a tiny cushion. I could feel her hardening. She was getting sloppy wet. I pressed into her hard, into the sponge, mashing her against her pelvic bone.

       Split the clit. (sort of rhymed pretty good)

       She cried out and cried.

       Fuck. Fuck the pliers were screaming out to me. Yes. Yes. Do it. Use us.

       But I couldn't. If I crushed it, what then? No needles. No soldering irons or clamps. It was much too soon for the pliers.

       I knew my bible, everything in its time. A season for everything.

       I took a good hold and did pinch her flat. It felt like a grape squishing, but went back to its original shape when I released her, didn't split the skin. I well might have bruised her though.

       I so wanted to jamb my face into her to get my teeth and tongue onto her but it proved impractical the way she was tied up. I really only got some teeth full of hair. I could have forced it further but why when I could spread eagle her tied to a bed or table and really do it justice and tell her before hand just what was coming. The fabulous, unbearable anticipation.

Page 4-19.

       I gave it one last pinch and twist and shoved my two fingers all the way up into her and scraped against her cervix. I scratched her vix a bit and she howled even better. Now, finally, after all that, I lifted her up by the cunt and I slid the undies tight under her ass and pulled up on the waist band and they were full on proper.

       Mission accomplished.

       What a spectacular production just for a change of clothes and of course now, the big difference being I knew what I owned and would torture and incidentally, Smith had a really sore, twice bashed, tit and wasn't so hopeful or 

trusting anymore.

       I went back to see how she was. They'd cowered throughout the whole last part of the clit thing with Fawcett, about twenty minutes, and now needed to be alone. They were devastated and inconsolable. They were beyond fucked and, by now, I think they knew it.

         I went inside her blouse and her bra and I fondled Smith. The hurt one. It was the first time I had touched her bare skin sexually. I was half afraid, half hoping, I might lose control.

          'Too bad she didn't co-operate right away. This didn't need to happen to you.'

       She just sort of nodded and sobbed. Her face was tear stained, even more beautiful, if that was possible, which it was. Contorted in screaming anguish would always be the best. Mouth too wide open and twisted, all her white teeth showing in a row, even the back ones.

       Still her nipple hardened. The sweet little muscles in her bud all tightened and her areola bunched up into a hard extra ridged mound. I scraped my finger nail along it. I could have bit it off or at least pierced her right down the center or even better shoved something through it sideways.

       I whispered in her ear, 'Fucking not bad. Fucking, fucking sweet, and hard. I fucking love your nipples hard.' The last words I growled at her like a beast, a monster in the dark, hiding in her closet, or under her bed just waiting to climb in with her, in to her PJ bottoms with all the Holly Hobby shit on them and into her cunt that still had to grow.

Page 4-20.    

       I couldn't even let myself think what she must have been like as a kid. Did she fill her first bra? Did she need to be trained? How did she like her first period. Did it run down both legs or just one. Fuck, Oh fuck. (I'd have to ask her, ask them all about their first periods.)

       She was beyond repulsed and way more than afraid as her spine shivered at my tone, at the pure evil, and her cunt squeezed closed tight. Like she had the strength to keep me out of her, to force me away with her hopes, by contracting her vaginal muscles like a fist. That's how I wanted her with my dick in her.

                Dream on, sweet lady. Dream of my prick as it comes for you, all eager and bulbous and determined. I just about fucked her right then, but got up.

       Now I knelt down in front of Ladd. She looked really apprehensive. (and for every good reason)

       'You know, to be fair, I should smash one of your tits too.' (Sort of like an equal opportunity tit basher, mistreat 'em all the same.)

       'Please don't. No. I haven't done anything. No. Please.'

       She hadn't sucked my cock yet, so I guess she was partially right about not having done anything.

       I held one hand under her chin to keep her head up, looking in her face in her pale blue eyes. They were deep with fear. Tears were welling up. I wanted to kiss and eat her. Her tits jiggled heavy as her shoulders shuddered.

       I drew my arm back while making the fist.

       Her eyes were pleading, begging.

       I shot my hand forward and was under her blouse and into her bra and pinched her nipple in one smooth motion. She was every bit as perfect as the others and probably the most endowed, maybe a 36C or D.  I'd have to line them all up to see, like a beauty contest or a no-tea-shirt contest. Six tits in a row and all mine.

       I caressed and fondled her and gave her the fingernail pinch and, of course, she budded up hard, and I said,

            'Fair enough. This'll do for now. I'll find something different, something better, for you later.'

Page 4-21.

       'No. Please. Please. What do you mean? Something different? Better? Something mean and nasty? Meaner? Please what?'

       'I don't know. Maybe... It'll come to me.'

       I'd spied the pliers on the floor beside Fawcett.

       'Maybe these.' I picked them up and pulled her blouse out again at the front and dropped them into her bra cup and left them there. I patted her tit with the pliers inside her bra. What a special sight, her bra and blouse all lumpy with the outline of the pliers. She never thought she'd be dealing with that dilemma, making that fashion statement, sort of heavy metal attire.

       'Oh no. No. Please. No. No. No.' She whimpered like she had before when she said 'rape' five hundred times, before I smacked her to turn her mouth off. The pliers were a horrible, cold reminder of what was in store for them, for her and her nipples, and just a little wee part of what was to come. I didn't envy her her thoughts right then. But I loved it and this time let her mumble on. It was sort of musical and erotically pathetic. Could she really envision how flat her nipple could be made and where all its guts would go, how they'd squish out, all the milk ducts out of commission? (And all about that, I could still drink the juice from her other tit while that nipple was still on her.)  Could she imagine her sweet little erection muscles all twisted and flattened and severed?  Could she imagine how fucking much it would hurt with all the nerve endings concentrated there? How many fucking nerve endings there are, some unbelievable, fantastic number just perfect for maximum pain and suffering and all of them screaming out in her brain. Could she really imagine?

       Virtually every woman could not, except for some that I'd already had.

       And Ladd wouldn't have to imagine. Sooner than I could have imagined.

       That nipple's fate was sealed. It was branded. X'd. X marks the squish. Since I knew 'the one', which nipple it was, I would be extra considerate of it, tender and loving, suckle it more than the other one and pierce it less. I'd treat it like a treasure, something of value. Something I valued right up until I cancelled it.

Page 4-22.

       Since there would be countless other nasty episodes by then, spread out over four cunts (yes, four is what happens in a chapter to come) the stupid bitch would probably forget by the time I was set to do it to her. Or in the meantime she could hope the pliers were just a prop and I was just a twisted jokester. (ha ha, on her, more like a twisting jokester.)

       How could I possibly be serious?

       'So, would you rather the fist?' I asked Ladd

       'I don't know. Maybe. It might be better.' She said softly.

       She paused and squirmed and barely got the next words out and she had such a defensive, vulnerable air about her.

       'Do you want to do it now? Do it to me now? She said timidly.

       I couldn't fucking believe my ears.

       She was tragic and heroic.

       She was offering to let me smash her in the tit.

       Oh fuck.

       Oh shit.

       What a sweet cunt.

       'If it's alright with you, that'd be OK.' I enthused.

       'Of course it's not alright with me. But if you're going to do it anyway or something worse, maybe much worse, I don't want you to hurt me bad. Not severe. I don't want you to maim me.'

       (Fuck bitch, watch with the choice of words.)

       She continued, 'So if that's what you feel you have to do to me, to satisfy yourself, then do it now. Just do it now.'

       'Fair enough. I'll say, you're a trooper.'

       I set down in front of her and looked at her sort of kind. I tentatively reached out and moved her shoulder back. Her blouse tightened, the pliers still in.

       She looked so helpless and scared.

       She had assumed.

       'Aren't you going to take the pliers out?' She said softly.

       'Why?' I said.

       'Out of my bra, please take the pliers out.'

Page 4-23.

       'Why?' I repeated

       'Because...Oh no. You wouldn't strike me like that. Would you? With the metal against my skin? Oh no..'

       She panicked.

       'Please. Please. I take it all back. I don't want you to hit me now. Please not now.'

       'Look, here's the deal, if the pliers come out they go into your cunt. Do you want that?'

       'Oh God please. Please just stop it.'

       'Do you want that?'

       'No. Oh God, no.'

       'I didn't think so. Then you want me to leave the pliers in?'

       'You're confusing me. You're twisting me around. Please. Please just don't hit my breast with the pliers in.'

       'Oh stop whining. Stop begging. Very well. I'll slug your other tit.'

       Slug.

       Slug it.

       Slug her other tit.

       She almost seemed relieved, thankful.

       I again adjusted her shoulder to move her breast out and forward, more exposed and vulnerable. The fabric of her blouse was stretching and her nipple a bump showing through. I cupped my two hand around her getting a feel.

       A feel for her weight, how she was constructed.

       It all was so healthy and undamaged, so pristine,

       I was like a doctor doing a breast examination, looking for irregularities in her which I seemed about to create in her.

       'Take a deep breath and hold it.' I told her.

       She was shaking again and the other two were crying at listening to all that I said and was setting up.

       'Whenever you're ready.'

Page 4-24.

       She looked around for someone to help her. To rescue her. She looked at me to relent. To say I didn't mean it. She even looked to God. She looked all around in vain.

       Then she inhaled deeply, squeezed her eyes tight shut and held her breath. Her chest expanded and everything looked just perfect.

       'Then I asked her, 'Do you think it would be better with your tit out? Your tit naked?'

       'No. No. Please no. Just do it. Just get it over. Please. I'm ready.'

       'Well I'm not. I think it needs to be different. I've already done this to them. It needs something different, special.'

       'Please don't stop. Don't stop it. just do it.'

       She was begging to be tit bashed. Hot damn she was great.

       'How about the fist in your cunt instead?'

       'Oh no. Oh no.' Her face just contorted and she mewled again but more pathetic like a new born kitten looking for the teat. That sounded about right. I wondered, what I should name my pliers?

       I leaned over and kissed her and told her not to worry, for now. I wasn't going to do it for now, and told them all we were going for a ride, that there was a  change of plans and when it got dark we would be headed out like one big happy family.

       At least I was happy.

       I was sir.

       And I was the head of the family.

       And that's all that mattered.

       The pliers still nestled in her bra all warmed.

                  They were getting hot and itchy to pinch some sexual part of her.

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...

Chapter six.

       Now there are four.

Page 6-1.

       What ever had I done to deserve such riches?

       The Patron Saint of Bitch Bashers was surely looking out for me and was squarely behind me, or in my corner, you might say.

       For I was about to corner another one.

       I was running around like a sparrow in heat, like a chicken with its head off. I had to get my gun, which would be a race.

       I'd used up valuable time, the time it took me to knock Fawcett out, but Smith wouldn't go down. I'd hit her three times to the skull and still she kept crying out, instead of passing out. Finally out of desperation, or urgency, I'd choked her into unconsciousness. It took about forty seconds, but it'd used up valuable time which I didn't have to spare.

       As I got up from them, the car that I saw coming up the drive was stopped and the person getting out, would head to the house, right away, I assumed.

       It was a she.

       Was it ever a fucking she.

       She was parked about a hundred feet from the front door and I could see all I needed to know. She was already fucked too, just like the others. Luckily for me, she was into the trunk, searching for something and I had time to scamper to my gun in the kitchen and have it at the ready, just in case I needed it, as I lurked inside the front door.

       I still was naked which really didn't matter that much, I supposed. It sort of added to the thrill, for me, and one might say I was a sexual thrill seeker.

       The bitch was Shelly Hack of the Charlie's Angels crew.

       Now a lot of people weren't partial to Hack, but for me, she was ideal.        And my reasons should become evident shortly.

       I watched all nervous and excited, as she closed the trunk. She had set a suitcase down, so it looked like she was intending to stay. She left it on the ground as she started from her car to the house. She had a fairly big box in her hands, held in front of her waist, so both were not free, they were sort of occupied, which I figured was a good thing. She couldn't take a first swing (at me).

Page 6-2.

       She walked briskly, even with the box, no nonsense, all serious and business like. Boy was her life, the life of her business, her cunt business, about to change. It was about to have a new partner.

       I could see how skinny, sexy she was, smooth gabardine slacks hugging her tight bony ass and a thin banlon sweater showing she had almost no bust. Her tits were like a girl's just forming, budding, a word I just loved. Budding breasts. Fuck. I'd like to eat them for breakfast. The thing is, that was my exact favorite tit thing, so much more than the phoney, exaggerated, often ugly, silicone shit stuff, found in Playboy etcetera.

       What a lot of rape hounds, especially the ones into the serious hurting, didn't understand, was that small breasts have pretty well the same number of nerve endings as large ones so it makes sense they'd torture better, send more flaming pain to the bitch's brain who was having them buggered. They are much more sensitive, overall. Figure it out. If a woman has a single tit area of about three inches by three inches, this would make for a skin area of about ten to eleven square inches when you take the bit of her mound she has into account. Take another woman with pendulous breasts, big hang downers, and you could easily have a skin area of thirty to forty square inches, for one melon. Now, each have the same number of nerve endings. So the little tits, the tiny tits, had it all over the big ones for their ability to blast her brain with horror as they were being crushed, cut, pierced or otherwise improved.

       Tiny tits were a fucking blessing - to me.

       They were God's hidden little secret.

       And Hack had the smallest I'd ever encountered in an adult woman. She was thirty-four and about five foot ten and one hundred and thirty pounds soaking naked wet.

       I loved to make it seem as if they were being punished for having so little upstairs, like I was really pissed and disappointed and they'd have to pay through extra attention, read that torture, being directed at their cunts to compensate for their breastlessness, their little baby girl bud tits. But the thing was, sometimes they could have really big nipples. Disproportionate, you might say. Like their tit was all nipple and areola.

Page 6-3.

       She was another of Fawcett's trade show hosts and had arrived, even though it was the start of a holiday, to finalize the details of her next assignment. She was old hat to the firm but didn't live with the other three. She was sort of aloof, saw herself as more above others. She was by far the smartest of the bunch, with an IQ in the mid 140's so it seemed reasonable to assume she'd come up with some original reasons why I shouldn't violate her while she negotiated for her safety and her life.

       All in all, she was just perfect for a hard take down to adjust her attitudes and her physical attributes, to re-arrange her sex organs and her memories of what life was all about.

       Horrible atrocities can happen even to privileged women.

       Having a pristine body is no deterrent.

       How about, it can be a liability?

       Just because she's super clean and scrubbed doesn't mean she can't be treated like covered in shit.

       Luckily, she was alone.

       I'd thought three were a challenge to do properly and now I was about to have four.

       She was at the door and rang the bell.

       She'd left her suitcase by her car and was still holding the box.

       This could become tricky, I'd just have to let it play out.

       The living room was far enough away that nothing of the other three could be seen from the front entrance, so I was safe there, and I'd made sure they couldn't cry out. Still I couldn't very well just open the door naked, even with the gun in hand. The shock might spook her to scream or try to run and she'd know something weird was up, for sure, since my prick was straight out.

       Stating the obvious can be the sign of an amateur writer.

       I'd managed to get to the door just before her, it was solid oak with no windows, and I undid the lock and the dead bolt, just as I heard her coming up the stairs.

       She clip clopped in her high heels.

       I was glad she was in them. They would make her unstable on her feet and less able to flight.

       She rang the bell.

       My dick and my heart were pounding in unison.

       She rang the bell again, waited about five seconds and called out, 'Hello. Shelly here. Farrah, you home?' ('I hope', she said to herself quietly, sort of absent mindedly, just an off the cuff comment to herself as her world was about to smash.)

       She waited another ten seconds, or so, and I could see the door knob beginning to turn.

Page 6-4.

       Perfect. Perfect.

       Come to Papa monster master molester.

       Nipple ripper and cunt basher.

       Lord of the realm and about to become master of hers.

       The door was open but she didn't come in.

       Fuck bitch. Come in.

       I was off to the side behind it, and now she stepped into the vestibule holding the box with both hands and calling out again, 'Farrah. Guys. I'm here. Where are you? Where is everybody?'

       She took three steps forward and now her back was right to me and she was looking the other way, away from me.

       I could see her top to bottom, head to heel, how slim she was and I wanted to fuck her on the floor right then as I stared at her ass cheeks, tight under her skirt.

       Fuck, pointing the gun at her, right at the back of her brain.

       I wanted to hit her.

       I just wanted to slug her.

       She didn't even see it coming, see me coming.

       My fist was like a rock in the dark.

       Thrown from an overpass onto a car winshield.

       I drove her a vicious blow to her lower back, to the side (like around her kidneys) and in the next moment grabbed her by the arms, at her shoulders, and threw her forward.

       She screamed out, 'God, God.' and then went flying down onto the floor sprawled and spread, both shoes were off. She was sort of trying to turn back, to look back to see who it was. Why was it happening to her? Her box was full of cosmetics and the little bottles and lip sticks scattered and skittered along the floor.

       I was fast behind her and got her by the hair on top, pulled her up and wrapped my arm around her throat from the back, locking my arm at the elbow tight to her windpipe. I pushed her head forward and squeezed on her breath. It was about thirty seconds of trying to reach back to claw me or hit me, and stamp on my feet, before she passed out. She hadn't even seen who I was or knew that I was naked pressed up against her.

       My knob had felt her butt crack.

       I eased her down and she slumped to the floor and I almost danced like a maniac for joy. Like an Injun doing a war dance, or a whore dance. She was just as beautiful, in her own way, as the other three. More aristocratic with very fine features and the rail thin body. She was not anorexic. Rail thin bodies, torture and break the best. Everything is more delicate, smaller, more fragile, but also everything that should be, is there.

Page 6-5.

       I turned her onto her back and I took her breasts for a 32B.

       I took hold of her by the hair and dragged her into the kitchen. I didn't want her to see the others when she first came to. I wanted to toy with her. Play with her before she saw what I'd already done and how hopeless it would be for her too. I tied her up the usual way, hands behind her back and legs constrained just at the ankles.

       Now I could relax a bit and take a moment to think. I took the time to move her car, a recent Mercedes, into the attached garage where my van was waiting for its cargo. She must have had some security clearance methods, like a remote control or something, since the first I knew of her coming was when her car was in sight.

       I'd re-attached the phone lines for the system after I gained control of them because a separated line can sometimes send a signal back to the security firm's home base that all is not as it should be. But what the Hell, all was just as it should be.

       Anyway, I was back inside and had had a breath of fresh air which I used to clear my thoughts, and I thought, calm my pecker down. Pressed up against her ass had turned it's light switch on to high.

       I checked the three living room guests and Smith was back aware. 'What's happening? Why did you choke me? And hit Farrah? What are you up to now?' Like she just knew I was always up to no good. (At least not for them.) Like she'd always assume the worst about me.

       'Oh, not much', I said. 'it just seems we have another guest.'

       'Oh Shelly. Oh God no. I forgot she was coming, she was supposed to come. What have you done with her?'

       'Nothing I haven't done to you guys, to you cunts.' I said like a hero, like a conquering one, proud of my work, of how I'd worked them over, superior and all.

       'No, don't hurt Shelly. She's my good friend. She's just found out she's going to have a baby. It's so special. She's pregnant.' Smith begged me.

       Well fuck and holy shit bananas and fried mushrooms.

       It just kept getting better and better.

       Preggers. Her with a big belly if she lived that long. And her tits. They should swell too. At least by a little bit.

Page 6-6.

       Indeed, this little fuck's tits were going to change, swell up, her body modify and I could keep her and fuck her for weeks as it all happened. I could monitor her blossoming as I destroyed her.

       Oh happy fucking year of days.

       I wanted to kiss Smith.

       Any excuse would do.

       I kissed her for telling me the unbelievable news.

       'Thanks bitch, you just made my pecker's day. Oh fuck.'

       The Fuck Gods really loved me, appreciated my work and dedication and sent me bounty greater than I deserved. I needed to give thanks and do a job on her better than usual, to show my appreciation in return.

       Fuck Gods, Rape Gods, don't like ungrateful peckers.

       I'd give them a real offering, real live kicking, screaming sacrifices.

       'Where is she?' Smith demanded.

       'In the kitchen.'

       'I don't...' She started to reply.

       'All tied up.' I interrupted her.

       'I don't hear her.' Smith was really worried looking now.

       'She's unconscious. What would you expect?'

       'How? No. Why? She didn't. She. She's pregnant.' Smith sputtered.

       'Oh shut up, or I'll shut you up. She's just another hole to me. She barely has any tits. How's she going to nurse.'

       Smith look disgusted at how disgusting I was being.

       I stepped forward to strike her and she pulled away, 'No don't. I'm. Don't.' I spared her for the moment.

       I really wanted to hack at Hack.

       I was back into the kitchen and she was full flat face down, how I'd left her as I tied her up. I stood above her just surveying my latest acquisition. I didn't know where to start, so her ass seemed as good a place as any.

Page 6-7.

       I got down beside her and ran my hand up her long, slender leg to the crease at the bottom of her cheeks. I pressed and traced the line and then was full into stroking and feeling her sweet butt, both sides. She was still unconscious.

       My prick was looking me in the eye, sort of eye to eye.

       I rubbed it's head along the fabric.

       I ran my hand up inside her sweater, up her back, under her thin bra. The back strap was about half an inch wide. I guess she didn't need much of a bra to hold up what she didn't have, the tits she didn't have. What was there to support? Two spectacular nipples and a slightly raised areola with almost no fatty tissue behind? Yeah, how was she ever going to nurse, I thought again. And how would a baby's head ever get out of her fine, constricted little hips?

       I'd probably have to slit her belly open before I seized the baby.

       I sort of rolled her onto her side and again, just gazed at her.

       She was like an angel, a girl angel but was a full woman, at least for awhile she'd remain a full woman.

       Her sweet face, its features so delicate and angelic, didn't even look pained. She was not aware. Unconscious bliss.

       I got up and picked her up and carried her up stairs (a lot of ups) to Ladd's bedroom. Like a hero rescuing a damsel in distress. A thug causing a damsel's distress. Ladd had a four poster bed, which was more ideal than Fawcett's, but not as good as the old fashioned steel, tube beds, for my wants and needs.

       I got some good lengths of the nylon line from my rape kit and was back in beside her. I cut the lines already on her and tied here faced up, spread eagled to the four posts. I pulled her limbs pretty tight and would have to watch the circulation thing.

       I went and got a cold beer, their fridge was well stocked, and returned and just sat there on a chair waiting for her to come to and studying every inch of her slender body and face. I needed the rest so I didn't care how long she took to revive. Still I couldn't make up my mind what to do to her first, there were so many choices. I knew her tits were in for it but...

Page 6-8. 

       

       It was about twenty minutes and she started to stir.

       First she moaned.

       I wanted to listen outside the door for awhile. I pulled up a chair just out of site and was still nursing my drink. Like a ring side seat, you might say, but hidden.

       'Ohhh. Ohh. Who? What? Where am I? What the? Who's there? What are you doing, who's there, to me? Oh God. God let me go.'

       It was like a symphony of first pleas.

       'Farrah. Farrah. Jackie, my Jackie, Cheryl, please. Please help me.'

       (Good for her, she knew all their names. I wondered if they jiggied, jiggied each other. There was something special in the way she called for Smith, I noticed. I wondered if they licked each others cunts, or pumped the dildos into each other.)

       I was smirking as I held fast onto my hard prick. I had an evil grin on my lips. I was excited and laughing inside. Like a naughty little peeping-tom school boy, when I was a psychopathic, torturing murdering serial maniac.

       'Are you there? Somebody? I'm tied to a bed. I think it's yours Cheryl. I don't know who tied me up. My back hurts. It's bad. He, he punched me in the back and pushed me down. Oh God, where are you? Where are you all? Why don't any of you answer. Answer me. Answer.' She was getting louder and to the panic. 'Oh please God. God, please help me. What's happening? Why?'

       I was about to help myself to her.

       'Who ever you are, if you can hear me, I know you can hear me, let me go. Speak to me. I want to know who you are. I want to know.'

       She'd gone on for about fifteen minutes and now I couldn't resist.

       I called out from outside the door, 'Don't be so sure.'

       She was startled. 'What? What? Who is that? What do you mean by that? Who are you?'

       (Your worst fucking, fucking nightmare. I mused to myself.)

       'Don't be so sure you want to see me.' I repeated.

       'Why? What? Be a man. Show yourself.'

       (My being a man was sticking straight up.)

       'Show yourself to me and don't hide like a coward, like a whimp, like a boy.'

Page 6-9.

       Well that did it. That tore it.

       'You're sure then?' I said.

       'What? Sure of what?' She came back with.

       'You're sure you want to see me?'

       I said it in a tone that implied she might not want to see me.

       'Well yes. I said. Why wouldn't I? Are you deformed or ugly or something weird?'

       'More like something weird and twisted', I said.

       'I don't know. Just show yourself so we can talk. I need to talk with you face to face. To reason with you. To explain who I am and find out who you are. If we know each other, I'm sure you'll let me go. You'll see. But we need to see each other.'

       Fucking intelligent bitch, it was time to unwind her, to unnerve her, pull her intellectual, snotty legs out from under her.

       'That's fine. I agree. But just so you know...' I let it hang.

       'Know what?' She didn't even see it coming, suspect it coming.

       'Just so you know, when I see you, I'm going to rape you.'

       I was a voice in the air that stabbed her in the brain.

       The silence, her silence was spectacular and magical.

       What was she thinking? How was her mind racing? How would her smarts serve her now?

       'No you're not. That's not fair, reasonable. Please, I didn't mean... I won't let you.'

       I didn't say anything. I loved the silence now too much.

       'Did you hear me? Are you still there?'

       'You won't let me? You're tied to the fucking bed and you won't let me? Go figure.' I replied.

       'You don't have to swear, use profanities. But that's right, I won't let you.'

       Now it was time to really up the anti, raise the stakes.

       There was no fucking way she'd ever imagined, in any regard, what she was about to hear from my store of twisted ideas and fantasies.

Page 6-10.

       'I'll tell you what, we'll play a little game, a little test and if you win, I'll let you go, Scott free, you're out the door, but if I win I'm going to rape you, as I said, and in the ass and across your scrawny chest. Why do you have such puny tits?'

       All of a sudden she was worried. What kind of words were these being directed at her. Who or what was she dealing with? A person of reason or a raving maniac. A sex maniac? She shuddered inside. She hadn't thought of a torturing sadist, yet.

       'I...I...please. No. No. Why are you speaking to me so mean like that. I haven't done anything to you. I don't even know you and I don't think you know me.' She paused. ' What is the test?'

       'You said you wouldn't let me. You'd stop me, so here's what you have to stop first.'

       I was ready to freak her out.

       Assault all her sensibilities.

       With nothing she could have imagined, when she got out of her car to walk towards my clutches, or when she put her bra on in the morning.

       'I've got a hat pin in my nipple. -- You know what a hat pin is?'

       'Yes, of course.' She said.

       'Describe it. Describe one.' I said.

       'Like a sewing pin, but longer with some kind of bigger head, often pearl. For the old fashioned hats.'

       'Exactly. You know. You do know.' I answered her.

       'So. So? What? What?'

       It still just sounded stupid to her.

       Why was I telling her?

       'I'm going to come in to visit you, in a moment, and my objective is to shove the hat pin right through your pants and panties into your cunt, into your vagina.'         

       Just a few hours ago, she'd played with her self, a deep shuddering orgasm. She hadn't had sex in quite awhile. Actually, she didn't like sex (oh, how rich) although she liked to masturbate and had allowed herself the luxury of two dildos and a vibrator which she'd ordered by mail. She would never be caught dead in one of those lurid sex stores. No Lovecraft for her. She'd been brought up in a puritanical, restrictive home and sex was all dirty and for shame.

       The thing about intercourse, for her, was she didn't feel any man was good enough to be handling her fine, exquisite body. She saw herself as a statue, a classic form and couldn't stand the feel of them pawing and groping her, especially her private parts. Besides, almost to a man, their hands were too big and clumsy as too were their dicks. And their mouths too wet and hungry. She often thought she'd prefer a boy (a pretty boy) maybe under aged, but hadn't done anything about it. Besides, the couple that had caught her eye, showed no interest in her, in that way, at all. Just shows what youth doesn't know.

       Anyhow, I'd just informed her I intended to get at her cunt with a hat pin. She'd just masturbated herself a few hours ago and satisfied herself nicely.

       She liked to lay on her back.

       Always naked.

       With her ass on the edge of her bed.

       With her legs over the edge, really spread.

       And her feet touching the floor.

       It pushed everything up and forward.

       And she felt vulnerable, almost helpless.

       Like she could be ravaged.

       Sometimes she liked to wave her feet around and sort of twist  her legs into funny positions.

       And cry out low and guttural.

       What did it matter how silly she looked.

       Only the cat was watching or hearing.

       And sometimes she'd put clamps on her nipples, but only ones that hurt just a little. And as she orgasmed she rip one off and yelp.

       And  she'd made videos of herself for when she had less energy and she considered her body superior, not an ounce of fat at thirty-four, nor had she ever been over weight.

       Her nipples were extremely sensitive to pain.

       And the clips were the only pain she liked and only as she came.

       Her period tested her stamina.

       She had done herself perfect.

       Even her nipples, (which she didn't always do.) She had to feel aggressive towards herself, and often wondered if it was a hidden, a sublimated, form of self-loathing.

                And now this.

       It had to be fiction, she thought. She wasn't awake. Who would think to do such a thing and why?

Page 6-11.

       'Oh no. No. No you're not. You're crazy. That's crazy. What are you saying? Why? It's crazy.'

       'Maybe so, but then maybe I'm crazy and that's who and what you're dealing with. What you're stuck with, pun meant.'

       'Stop joking. Stop making a joke. Say you were joking about doing it. That's horrible. It's worse than horrid. Though, please say you were trying to scare me, although I don't know why you'd want to. Where are my friends?'

       Her constitution and her confidence were starting to undo, to unravel just a bit.

       'Oh, they're lying around.' I said like a joke.

       'Did you hurt them? You hurt them didn't you? Otherwise they'd be, they'd answer me.' She was scared for them.

       'They're still alive, so who cares?'

       'No. No. please tell me you didn't hurt them. They're OK.'

       I really would have liked to take her to see Ladd's nipple for a lark. I'd pass, for now. She'd see it soon enough. Experience it herself. Geeze, what a little titty pity.

       With that, I stepped forward into the doorway in full view. As I'd told her, I'd taken the hat pin and shoved it down through the center of my own nipple. It hurt like Hell but gave me the biggest boner, besides by doing this I'd have a pretty good idea of some of what she'd feel. I wanted to know, at least a tiny fraction of her pain. Some of what she'd feel when I finally lanced her buds and when I'd done the buds of the others.  Of course, multiple piercings through one nipple were a given. And the fish hooks. Oh shit.

       For now, just her outer labia was my target. I'd work up to her clit, more like into her clit, all in my good time.

       Her face recoiled in fright and some disgust. She didn't expect me naked with a boner and the pin in my nipple really freaked her. She well could see my cock was ready so how would she avoid it? She could see I was a freak and I had her at my disposal, my mercy. This was a serious, possibly lethal, threat she thought. (She could really be really in for it.)

Page 6-12.

       'So your name's Shelly?' I said,

       She nodded.

       'Well I'm Sir Galahad, make that Sir Girlahad and this is Sir Cock.' I patted myself approvingly. 'And he's your new master.'

       'You're stupid.' She spat out. 'Stop being childish. And nobody, nothing's my master.'

       'Well Shelly that may be right, but you're going to shell out and it isn't even Halloween.'

       'Stop it. You're mean and disgusting. Why do you like insulting me?' She asked.

       'And degrading you and tormenting you. Don't forget those.' I added.

       'You're..just stop it.'

       'So you know the game?' I started in. 'What do you think of this?'

       I flicked the hat pin in my nipple. It was hanging out about two inches and was in me about the same. Of course, all the nerve endings are at or just below the skin surface so once these are pierced, it didn't matter how far in it was. There's no extra pain just because it's in deeper. To her, facing the prospect, for the first time, it probably looked that way though, like it would hurt more.

       'It's disgusting. You're sick to do that to yourself.'

       'And I'm going to do it to you too, to yours, but right now it's your, it's going into your labia.'

       Now she knew her nipples were part of my perversion equation.

       And now she was sort of cowed, cowered. She was pulling at her restraints and I loved how it twisted her body, revealed her contours even better. She whimpered a bit and the tears started to well. I almost felt sorry for her, she looked so inviting and didn't know, what she was doing, she was only making it worse. Making herself look more so inviting.

       'So you ready to stop me, so I don't rape you?'

       She strained fiercer at her restraints and her head jerked from side to side.

       'You ever had it in the ass too or across your tits?'

       I wanted to remind her.

Page 6-13.

       I moved to the bed at the bottom and climbed up and on, straddling one of her out tied legs. She tried to kick with her knee. I ran my hand up from her calf to her knee, to her thigh, and then her inner thigh.

       She was pure fuck.

       I squeezed her just below her crotch, with both hands around her leg. I could feel her muscles pulling and pushing.

       Her cunt was an inch from my malice and foreplay. (I'd forget the forethought, for now. I was on auto torture.)

       I did the same to her other leg.

       I leaned up forward and put my hand on her breast bone, between her tits,  and brought my face to hers to give her a kiss.

       She jerked to the side with her eyes clamped shut tight, and her mouth clamped shut tight.

       I leaned harder onto her breast plate.

       I leaned hard enough to feel her heart racing.

       I put my elbows on each side of her head. I could feel the hardness of her pelvic bone against my leg at my knee. My cock wasn't on her crotch but off to the side.

       I pressed into her with my knee as I held her face still.

       Her features were exquisite and they were all twisted with anger and resistance, which made her all the more irresistable.

       'Open your eyes.' I barked.

       She didn't.

       I pressed, and sort of ground up and down, a little harder against her cunt with my knee.

       'Open them.'

       She was looking at me now defiant. Her eyes were deep and a beautiful soft hazel, at least they would've been if they weren't on fire with her rage.

       I brought my lips to hers and just bushed her mouth.

       She tried to spit me away.

       Then her mouth went tight and frozen, and it was small and tight to begin with, although she had a big smile. You could almost say she showed too much teeth. It was one of those, wide ready grins that needed smacking, maybe even knock a few teeth down her throat. Let her have them for desert.

Page 6-14.

       'Relax. Relax your lips.' I growled.

       She half did and I maneuvered my teeth over her lower lip and bit down on her hard.

       She squeeled, 'Stop it. God.  God you're hurting my face.'

       I held the bite for about ten seconds but didn't bite right into her. Then I let off.

       It had hurt plenty and she looked less defiant, becoming more scared and unsure of her ability to reason or likely control the situation or me.

       Then I gave her a nice soft kiss. Her mouth was trembling sweet. I tried to give her a little tongue, but she wouldn't open up.

       'Open. Part your lips.'

       She stayed clamped shut.

       'If you don't part these lips, it'll be your cunt lips that are parting. That I'll be smooching.'

       Now my tongue could run across her perfect teeth and into her mouth. She tasted beyond sweet and was totally fresh. I thought I could smell a hint of toothpaste. Crest, I thought.

       'That's better. See you could do it. If you want. You just needed a little coaxing, a little incentive.'

       I looked into her eyes, and put my hand softly on her blushing cheek.

       'Sweet. Sweet, you're really sweet.'

       Now she looked at me imploring, like softer and pleading without language.

       'So this is it. I guess we're there.' I said as I drew the hat pin out of my nipple right close to her face, in front of her widened eyes.

       I continued, 'So how are you going to stop me?' I pressed the tip to her cheek. I pricked her, the smallest spot of blood on her perfect ivory (girl) complexion.

       'Oh no. No. I can't. I see that I can't. You can't. Please you can't.'

       'I can't? Just watch me.'

       I slid down her pushing my forearm onto one of her breasts, like it was unintentional and pushed my hand firmly on the mound between her legs.

       She tried to kick up, to toss me off and away and it was fucking fantastic how her cunt twisted in my grip. Of course, it was useless and I squeezed even harder. She got the message and settled down, after she'd screamed.

Page 6-15.

       I firmly ran my fingers along one side of her labia, looking to pick the spot. Like a parking spot.

       I wasn't looking to pierce her clit now, not yet. I picked a point midway of her mound.

       I decided to change the idea a bit. Instead of pushing it in, I'd push it through. In at one point and out another. Like a lanced labia.

       Now I was excited extra and my cock was bobbing and waving (to her).

       I could make it, coming out, hurt much more than going in, plus I had another idea, a nastier surprise,  she'd probably pass out from.

                 Screaming.

       I pricked her lower, closer to the mattress and started to push into her mound. After the initial skin breaking, it didn't hurt her all that much (as I'd described before) and she settled her squeeling down.

       Now I kept pushing until it was ready to come out, about an inch further up her, to the front. As it tried to break through her skin from the inside she almost went off the wall nuts.

       It really fucking really hurt.

       I could see her sweet eyes rolling back in her head and her mouth was so wide open, from her screams, I could see her cervix from looking down her throat. She was almost gone, passed out, but not quite.

       I stopped.

       Her mouth closed and she shook her head, pretty wildly, from side to side, and then sort of in jagged circles.

       'God no. No. No. Oh God. Make him stop. Make him.'

       'I'm stopped already. Let's give it a rest, give you a rest for a minute. You're going to bust a gut, hollering like that. I bet you didn't know your mouth could open so wide.'

       I taunted her and showed her no respect or empathy.

       She didn't acknowledge my generosity which, of course, was nothing of the kind. The important thing was, that when the body is pushed beyond a certain pain level it stops feeling it, it anesthetizes the brain and the pain becomes muted. And I so wanted her to feel, be conscious for all the extra pain.

Page 6-16.

       I put my hand full on to one of her tiny tits and pinched her up. Her sweater was a stretchy, knit banlon and I pulled the armhole open and up to the side. I could see her sand colored bra, almost to her nipple. It looked like a handkerchief. Almost no cup, just a band, made to look like a bra. She probably could have used a kid's training one, but she was thirty-four years old. An adult woman. I assumed she never needed a trainer and wondered what did the other girls say to her in the school showers or locker rooms. Did they tease her? And what about her boyfriend? I didn't see any rings, so I assumed it was a male friend who poked her to get her preggers (God I hate that fucking word. God I love that fucking word when I've got one that is.)

       She wasn't a virgin, which I soon knew, but she considered herself way upper crust, like aristocratic, you would say, and she hadn't found a man she felt good enough, up to her (impossible) standards to make a baby with, so she'd had it done artificially. I should have known, the arrogant slut. That attitude, what good are men and I don't need one to have a kid. Or have a prick to satisfy my cunt, when I can do it better to myself.

       I pressed my hand onto her bra through her sweater armhole and started into her cup from the top, looking for her bud at last. It was all getting tighter and more constricted so I said, ' Oh what the Hell.'

       I grabbed on to her sweater at the bottom and slid it right up along with her bra.

       Well all shit and fuck.

       She really had no tits. It was like I was looking at a boy's chest, not even a man's chest. I had more pec presence. It was barely a girl's chest but it was attached to a cunt. And she had regular sized nipples.

       There just didn't look to be any tit. Of course, this wasn't true. Some of it was the position I had her stretched into that made her look that way. Her arms were stretched tight up and away. If she was sitting up and hunched over, the sweetest little mounds, you ever could imagine, would magically appear. But in a normal position, she really was like two fried eggs that I wanted to scramble.

Page 6-17.

       'Would you look at that?' I enthused.

       'Stop it. Please don't make fun of me.'

       'Why do you wear a bra? To hold your nipples up?'

       I ran my hand to one and pinched her.

       She strained at her arms but it just made it all the better.

       They were, it was perfection too, her nipple, and she did have a slightly raised areola which was spectacular. You could not class her has having puffy nipples though, she wasn't enough puffed. She started to harden and crinkled up beautifully. I could see her start on one side, and her erection worked its way around to meet where it'd started.

       'Oh you like that, do you?'

       'No. No. Please. I don't.'

       'Why haven't you had breast implants. Got something for yourself to fill out a dress or bathing suit.'

       'Please stop. It's personal.'

       'No. Why? Tell me why you wouldn't improve yourself. Make yourself more attractive to men?'

       My questions were lies.

       'Because. Because I don't identify myself as my breasts. I know society does but this is what God gave me so it's what I was intended to have.'

       'God didn't give you, you mean.' I interrupted.

       She continued. 'My breasts are not who I am and I refuse to conform to other people's expectations or appraisals of me. I am an individual and retain my right to act as one.'

       I continued twisting her bud as she spoke and she got even harder.

       'So if you don't need them bigger for your self esteem, do you need them at all? I asked.

       'What? What are you talking about?'

       'What if I cut them off? Would you miss them?'

       She went sort of squirley.

       'I can't talk to you anymore. You say the most unreasonable, horrible things and I can't stand talking to you.'

Page 6-18.

       'But your nipples like me. Like this. Look at how they're behaving, getting so erect and excited. Do you feel it in your cunt too? Is it stirring your cunt? Are you wet?'

       'How can you be so crude? You're being crude. You know it's because I'm scared, because you're handling me and it's involuntary. It's a muscle response to...'

       'Stimulation.' I added. 'You mean it's not my subtle techniques. I need to stimulate you better?'

       'Just stop it. I can't talk to. You twist everything around.'        

       She had no idea some of the things, of hers, I could twist around and even off. Like her fucking arm and...

       I knew I'd break her arms, at some point, they were so thin and delicate.

       I laid down to her chest and mouthed her. I pulled her out between my teeth and bit onto her at the base of her buds, from one to the other and back and back. I put my hand down full onto her pubic area, inside her pants and panties and, of course, ran up against the hat pin stuck into her labia, but not all the way out at that point.

       'Oh fuck, I forgot. Your magnificent tits distracted me.'

       She was ready to cry.

       'They are magnificent, you know, even though they're scrawny.'

       I slid one hand into her panties and could feel the point where the pin was going to come out. The skin was firmly stretched and ready to yield. The tip was at all the nerves. I pinched her each side of the pin shaft and she screeched her mouth open even wider. With my other hand I shoved it right through and the rest of the way out.

       She stopped shrieking, sort of, and yelled at me, ' You're a monster. Why are you hurting me like that?'

       'I told you, it was a game, a test, you had to stop me or you'll get raped. So I guess that's the next order of business between us, my business for you, then.'

       'No. Oh, no. It's not right. This is a crime. A serious crime.'

       'You flunked the test, so it is right.'

       'No. How could I not fail. I had to fail and you knew it from the start. You're not right.'

Page 6-19.

       I raised my hand and smacked her across the cheek.

       She looked perplexed and stunned.

       I did it again, harder and looked quite satisfied for having done it.

       'Stop hitting me.'

       Her cheek was red and flushed and her platinum hair mussing up pretty nicely.

       'Hitting you? I was slapping you. This is hitting you.'

       I just loved her tits so much I had to.

       I'm pretty sure her breast bone, underneath cracked, but her tit didn't look much different, after the punch. I supposed it would bruise up in a day or so, all blue and black and swollen bigger.

       Breast enlargement, even if she didn't want it.

       She surprised me and didn't pass out.

       'Never. Never tell me again, I'm not right. Understand?' I said.

       'Oh God. Oh God you're.. How could you hit me like that. My breast, it's precious. Who are you?'

       'Right now I'm your worst tit bashing, cunt piercing nightmare, and I know, I know where your clit is. I know where your cervix is.'

       'God. Stop talking like that. It makes me sick. It makes me nauseated.'

       'So I still don't have your answer, do you understand?'

       'Yes. Yes. OK. Just don't hit me anymore. I'm begging you.'

       (Tell me I'm not right. I muttered to myself, not right in the heads is more like it. Not in either one.)

       She was sort of limp now, like a rag doll and I wasn't worried about her fighting. I undid one of her arms and one of her legs.

       I got her sweater off one side and pulled it up over her head and along the other arm that was still tied, I left it there. I left her bra on. It fascinated me.

       It was a little girl bra and they fascinated me.

       I would never destroy or mutilate it and still have it and wear it often. It has to stretch so tight to get on me.

       I pulled it back in place re-cover her. To cover what? Her buds, I guess. I re-tied her arm to the post and pulled her a bit tighter.

       Her ribs and cage showed even more.

Page 6-20.

       I worked her slacks down over her hips and slid them down as far as I could until the hat pin through her labia stopped them from going any further. I was able to get her other leg up and out. Now there was just her panties covering her area.

        Written across the top of her briefs, at the front, was the word, 'bride' in capital letters. (For a picture, see references at the beginning of Chapter one.)They were excellent. A sheer transparent pink with no extra detail at all. Just a thin ribbon of binding at all the seams and a sweet little gusset to cuddle and protect her labia. Except there was a four inch hat pin sticking right through it. I guess she needed a steel gusset. They left nothing to the imagination and I couldn't have chosen a better pair for her if I'd tried.

       'Bride? What does that mean?' I wanted to know.

       'What? What about bride?'

       'On your panties, it says 'bride', on your panties, across the front. What does it mean?'

       'It doesn't mean anything, that I know of. They were a gift and they fit me nicely.'

       Well she got that right.

       Fuck was she beautiful.

       So hard and tight, smaller than all the rest, everything sort of miniature, like a model, a small imitation of the real thing only it was completely real. It was her. It was hers and now it was all mine. I fucking owned her just like the others.

       It was almost too nice to fuck or desecrate. Like destroying a fine work of art, defiling an angel. And yet I had her to torture. That was now her purpose in my life.

       I just gazed at her, sort of in awe. I had to give my head a shake to remind myself she was my bugger material. I owned her pussy and the hat pin stuck in it. And I owned a nice collection of the spiral galvanized finishing nails, the three and the four inchers with a few shorter ones thrown in for good measure.

       She was sobbing softly now, was giving in to her fright and started with the serious negotiating and begging.

       'I'll do anything. I will. Just promise you won't hurt me. Don't hurt me. I'm delicate. I'm not very strong. Can't you see how small, thin I am? How thin my bones are?'

       (Was she completely out of her skull? I couldn't see?)

       I  impulsively surprised her.

       Without warning, I gripped onto her pants and yanked them all the way down to her tied ankle. The thing being, the hat pin was still in her labia when I pulled and they pulled it out just as fast.

       She shrieked like a bitch and there wasn't enough blood that it mattered.

       I let her settle down for five minutes and then decided to gross her out a bit more.

       'You said your bones were thin. What about it? Is it small too?'

       'What? I don't know what you mean?'

       'Yes you do.'

       'No. No I don't. I never know what you mean, other than you are mean, and talk disgustingly dirty to me, which you seem to like to do.'

       'Take a guess.'

       'No. I don't want to. I don't have to.'

       'I'm going to ask you once more, nicely, is it small too?'

       'I suppose you mean my vagina or my clitoris.'

       'Bingo, smart bingo bitch. Should I call you that? My bingo bitch?'

       'They're the size they should be for the size I am, what more can I tell you?'

       'Do you play with it a lot? Jiggy, jiggy it?'

Page 6-21.

       'Stop being so personal and revolting. I just said you talked to me disgusting, and now you're doing it more.'

       'Geeze, this is one Hell of a conversation we're not having, I can't get you to answer one question straight up. Now for the last time, do you play with it a lot?'

       'Not a lot, but sometimes. Everybody does.'

       'You like it?'

       'That's the reason people do it.'

       'When you... how about I undo your wrists and you show me? Would you do that?'

       'Please no. No. I'd be embarassed.'

       'You think? We'll leave that for now, maybe come back to it later.' (as if there was ever any doubt about that. I was going to make them all do it at once, and to each other, sometimes three on one.)

       I took her freed leg by the ankle and pulled it up high into the air. I circled it around watching her crotch and how her blood spotted panties stretched tighter at the leg hole in some positions. I held her leg spread and slid my fingers in under the fabric of her briefs. She felt better than the other three together. She didn't shave herself, she had virtually no pubic hair. Or rather it was so thin and fine. She was almost, naturally, bald.

       Geeze, was she asking for it, being like that.

       I was brushing her to her crease and could feel the little extra center ridge her minora formed, they were like a straw's width right down the center of her split. It was a three part cunt symphony, a three parallel line version, and not all messy or spilled out or irregular.

       I left my knuckle low, sort of right at her vaginal entrance, her hole, while I moved her leg all around again. Some of the positions opened her up just a bit.

       I could feel the slippery, but just ever so little.

       I pressed a bit harder and she parted a bit more.

       I just held her like that, not moving or changing the position at all, maybe for three to four minutes.

       I was poised to enter her for the first time.

       And there could only be one time that was first.

       I studied her clenched face and her frightened jaw.

       I wanted to kiss the fear into her, the fear of my cock into her.

Page 6-22.

       Her eyes were pinched beyond shut.

       I liked her hair do, especially that it was messed.

       'Fuck, this way,' I said, 'I have to see it. See you. See how you look inside. Do you think I can see your cervix?'

       I let her leg drop and now she tried to kick. I grabbed her foot and wacked it against the bed post. That fucking hurt. So many little bones in her foot to break. She'd better smarten up.

       She howled and I went to do it again.

       She stopped jerking.

       I pressed my hand firmly onto her panties where the hat pin blood was and squeezed plenty hard and twisted after.

       Damn it. Her perfect 'bride' panties had more little blood spots on them now.  Oh well, it would be a reminder, every time I wore them, so things weren't so bad after all.

       Again she surprised me. She screamed bloody murder, bloody cunt, but didn't pass out.

       But her face really contorted. I thought it was going to twist right off.

       I tied her lose leg back to the post.

       Now she laid there spread eagled with her bra and her panties facing me.

       I climbed on to her and laid along her.

       I ground my cock against her, but not inside her.

       I worked on her tits and nipples under her bra.

       I kissed her all over her face and much full on the lips.

       I'd found the hat pin and stuck it into the mattress, by her head.

       I was masturbating against her but not fucking in her.

       I raised up and pushed both hands into her panties from the top into the waist binding and grabbed, gripped full onto her crotch.

       I slid my index fingers into her and her nub got sort of pinched between them.

       'Stop hurting me. Stop sexually abusing me.' She pleaded. 'Go ahead and rape me but stop hurting me.'

       She wanted me to rape her. She was asking me to rape her. They all did eventually and she was no different.

       I looked her mean in the face. She was battered.

       'If I'm not hurting you, it's not fun and it's not rape.'

       I was getting into the buggering space.

       I was getting into that mode again, the mode where torture would happen, things would get hurt. Bad.

Page 6-23.

       I needed to back off. To gain some perspective.

       I decided to try something different, something novel.

       It would be the first time for both of us, I was sure.

       I got up and undid both her leg ties. I pulled her slacks all the way off her other leg but left her undies on.

       Now I tied her legs loosely to the bed post but in a reversed order.

       I did the same with her wrists, pulling her sweater off and the reverse order too.

       I flipped her face down and tightened the cords up somewhat, but not as tight as when she faced up.

       She was semi spread eagled with her ass to the air.

       I climbed onto her lower legs at about the knees and grabbed onto her cheeks. I'm sure she thought I was going to ass fuck her right then. I wasn't sure I wouldn't.

       'Please. Don't do it that way to me. I don't want anal intercourse. I'm very small. Can't you see?'

       I sqeezed her sweet cheeks and put my face to them.

       'Uh. Fuck are these nice. Fuck. Fuck and fuck.'

       I shoved my thumb into her crack against her sphincter.

       'God no. Don't do it..'

       She started to buck, like a bronco, a fillie one, trying to toss me off. I bounced up and down on her legs my cock slapping along keeping the rhythm.

       I stopped with her asshole and laid down right along her. My bunger was hard to her tailbone. I ground against her a bit. I could have come with about a dozen strokes. I had my head right beside hers and twisted her face to the side and was in for a nice kiss. My weight was full onto her upper back and she sort of gasped for the breath. I kissed her cheek and then found her mouth. I wriggled my cock a bit to her butt. As I kissed her, I forced my two hands under her chest and latched onto her tiny tits. I pinched and squoze her pretty meanly.

Page 6-24.

       Now I started the new deal.

       I pulled her arm up as far as the restraint would let her go and moved my face around to kiss her tit which was in her bra hanging straight down, but not much. That is, there wasn't much to hang down. Maybe out two inches tops into the shallow cup.

       Such a perfect small handful.

       Such a perfect small biteful.

       I jiggled her nicely and her tip was getting perfect hard.

       She felt like a princess. Daddy's little girl.

       Now I started to slide under  her.

       'What are you doing? What do you think you're doing?' She protested.

       'It's either this or I ass fuck you and bite on your hemroid while I'm at it.'

       'You are worse, so much worse than disgusting. There are no words.' She spit back at me.

       'So stop telling me then, if there are no words.' I retorted. 'Just shut the fuck up.'

       I was starting to wriggle in under her. I was on my back and my chest pushing in against hers.

       Fuck. Oh fuck have mercy. Her bra with her jiggles brushed against my nipple and then both of my nipples. I thought I would come right then. I pushed her hips into the air and slid right under her full front. Her crotch was along my boner. I ground her a bit. I put my hands to her back, onto her spine and moved her up and down, along me. I raised my crotch into hers.

       Our sex was grinding along each other.

       She was breathing heavy right into my ear as her head had flopped down beside mine.

       'You like that. Do you? You like how that feels?'

       'This isn't fair. You're making me do this.' She protested.

       'Yeah, you're right. Now I want you to do it on your own.'

       'No please. I can't I...'

Page 6-25.

       

       'Sure you can. All you have to do is rub back and forth. Find the spot and keep the contact. I'll even help you.'

       'Help me do what?'

       'I'll steady you, keep you centered.'

       'For what?'

       'Stop being stupid. Evasive.' I snapped.

       'No. I'm not. I suppose you mean until you have an orgasm in me.'

       'Geeze. No that's not it at all..'

       'Then what? What do you want.'

       'You. You have the fucking orgasm. You grind against me, I'm not going in you, until you blow your load.'

       'What. But. No. No I' can't.'

       'You sure as Hell can and you sure as Hell will or I'll ass fuck you like there's no tomorrow. I'll bugger your pucker so you can hardly walk. So what'll it be.'

       'But. But I don't think I can have one, an orgasm this way. Its not how I do it.'

       'Well you'd better get started then to find out.'

       'I'll. I'll. OK. I'll try.'

       'Then kiss me.' I ordered her.

       She brought her strained face above mine and lowered her lips to meet mine also.

       She held them there but was rigid.

       I took her head between my hands and pushed her head back.

       'Do it right or don't do it at all.'

       I brought her mouth back to mine.

       She wasn't bad. She really tried and softened everything up. She even started the tonguing, with hers.

       I held her head fast to my face and twisted her gently into different angles.

       'Not bad. Not fucking bad at all. In fact pretty good. Now start to slide on.. Find the contact point for you. For you to.'

Page 6-26.

       I put my hands under her arm pits and pushed up on her. Her tits just hung like jewels. But pancake ones.

       'Hold yourself up by your arms.'

       She did and I unlatched her bra at the front.

       Of course it fell open and they fell out as much as they could.

       I gave a hard thrust in the air with my crotch, my boner against her.

       I let her flop right down on top of me. Flat out along me.

       I took her by the arm pits again and pushed her back up even further. She was arched, bent at the small of her back. I ran my thumbs to her nipples and dug into her, moving them around. I could feel her bones through her tits, underneath her nipples. I drove my fingers in harder and brought her down to lay along me still pressing into her buds. I forced them out to the side digging my thumbnails into her and pushing her right up again. Her skin was stretched almost right to her side and her nipples were at the center of the push. Then I pushed them up and had them higher than her arm pits. Digging. Digging all the time.

       'God. God. You're hurting me. Stop.'

       'Hurting what?' I loved to hear woman say the word nipples especially when it was about their own being abused or tortured.

       (Oh. Please. Oh Please. Don't cut my nipples off, don't bite my nipples of, were the best.)

       'My nipples. My breasts. You're hurting my nipples.'

       Perfect just perfect. God could she perform. I stopped.

       I reached down and gripped on to her ass cheeks again.

       I started to slide down under her until my face was between her breasts.

       I turned to one side and took her in my mouth and suckled her. My teeth were working her from the back of her nipple out and she was full hard and crinkled.

       I wanted to try something.

       'Push yourself up on your arms again.' I told her.

       She did and her chest cleared me.

       I gripped onto one of her tiny tits firmly with two hands and squeezed from the back forward really hard.

       'Oh, No. Stop it. Stop. You're still hurting me.'

       'Shut up. Shut up and just hold the position.'

       I held the hard two handed squeeze on her for about ten seconds and then gave her an extra hard one.

       She shot out the smallest spurt of liquid from the center of her nipple.

       Well fuck and oh shit, I'd expressed her. I'd gotten a bit of the juice out of her when you'd think she wouldn't have any she was so small.

       They were real tits after all. The real deal.

       I put the tip of my tongue to her bud and her milk (milk like fluid) was a treat. A teat treat?

       It was time to get back to the grinding.

       'That was fucking nice. We'll have to do it again.'

Page 6-27. 

       I slid my hands up under her rib cage, just under her tits, and hoisted her into the air. I supported her with my arms straight up and my elbows dug into the mattress.

       I slid my hands up further at the base, to the bottom of her breasts to make them all bunch up. I pushed in on her with my thumbs and got her nipples much closer to each other.

       I wanted to force them to touch.

       I tried again, but this time really dug my thumbs in full force from each side. Still, because she was so meatless, I could only get them within two inches of each other, so this was becoming a challenge. She was becoming a mission.

           'What the fuck,' I seemed to complain, 'I've never had a bitch yet where I couldn't force her nipples to kiss. Not an adult one. Now some of the girls, the mother's daughters, that was normal, but never yet an adult woman. And you are an adult, aren't you? And a woman?'

       'Stop it. It hurts. And what does it matter? Of course I'm a woman which is why you're doing what you're trying. To humiliate me because I'm feminine.'

       'A woman with a girl's chest. No fucking bust and no fucking tit meat. That's why I can't get this to work.'

       'So what does it matter? You freak.'

       'Oh, it matters. Once I set my mind and my imagination to it, you want to believe it matters, and a whole lot more to you than me.'

       She didn't like the sound of that.

       'Let me try again, only this time I'll really use the force. I want them to fucking touch and kiss. Now they have to. They have no choice. Even if I have to cut them off to get them to do it.' (I was only kidding, for now.)

       I gave it everything I had and still the very best I could do was force her buds to within an inch of each other, so she assumed I had failed in my quest, my nipple kissing contest. But she should have known, I never accepted failure, not for such an important matter at this.

       'OK. That's it. Enough is enough.'

       'You could see right away it wasn't going to work, so you should have given up then, like right away.'

       'I never do. I never give up, and you'll see. You'll find that out about me.'

       'Well this time it appears that you have to.' She said with self satisfaction.

       So she thought she had won.

       'Oh, no. Not so fast. There's a way. Yeah, I know a way now.'

       'Uh? No, but you couldn't. You haven't been...'

       'Successful.' I finished her sentence. 'Like I'm a failure? You think I'm a failure?'

       She knew to shut the fuck up, but it was too late.

       I wriggled out from under her.

Page 6-27a

       I danced down the hall and went into Smith's bedroom where I'd seen a sewing machine set up with a bunch of notions strewn about on a small cabinet beside it. I rummaged through its drawers, and bingo, bingo and bingo.

       I found some larger regular needles and some thicker thread, like for sewing denim or even light leather. And some good sized safety pins, about two inches long and there were some 'T' head pins, even longer and stronger, about three inches. The way they were formed, I supposed was to give a better grip, like more pushing power, which meant for me, more penetrating capability. I even viewed these everyday items from a torture engineering perspective. And, of course, there were fabric cutting scissors. Perfect, perfect, fucking perfect. She'd see. She'd fucking see.

       I waltzed back to Hack.

       And sat down on the bed beside her face and showed her my finds.

       'What the Hell. So what now?' She said.

       I pulled off about a foot of thread and snipped it off right in front of her wider, confused eyes.

       'See. See.' I said, 'This should be enough.'

       'For what? Are you mad?'

       'On the contrary, my sweet, my sweet heart, I'm just so happy. I'm not mad at all.'

       'I didn't mean angry, I meant crazy.'

       'I know what you meant. I was just foolin' with you. Can't take a joke? Don't like my humor? We'll see how you like this.'

       I was giddy like a lottery winner.

       I picked out a three inch, curved needle and threaded the thread piece through its eye. I wasn't a task at all and I got it done first try.

       I stuck the assembly into the mattress beside her face.

       I stroked the back of her head and kissed her lightly on her ear and whispered, 'OK. Now we'll get them together. You'll see. It'll work. I know we can do it together, do them together.'

       'What? No. No, please, you're not going to.. me.. the needle? Them?'

       'Them. Them.' Her nipples were 'them'.

       I reached in from the side and cupped her trembling tit. I pulled her breast hard out to her side, as much as I could, and pinched my thumb and forefinger harder onto her twisted out bud. I positioned the needle point so I could push it through her nipple, in one side and out the other. Now she thrashed and bucked but was still facing the mattress. Her sweet ass danced right in my face. Her asshole even spread.

       'Hold still. You fucking hold still, or you'll be sorry.'

       She did for a moment, but the moment I touched the point to her bud side again, she again went into the gyrations.

       'Fucking hold still.'

       'No. No, you can't. I can't.'

       I grabbed her face between my two cruel hands and squeezed her mouth and lips out. She looked funny but fantastic. I kissed her distorted lips, and sucked on them, and then bit them a little bit.

       I looked her deep in her troubled eyes.

       'Last, last fucking chance.'

       She tried to spit at me but it just got on the mattress.

       I ran my fingers through it and put some of it back into her mouth.

       And I kissed her again, squeezing her skull.

       And she spat again, but this time right into my mouth.

       I bloodied her lower lip with a good back-handed smack.

Page 6-27b

       I took hold of her throat as if to choke her.

       She gulped and swallowed like gasping.

       I could feel her jaw clenching and grinding and I finally let go.

       Now she weezed as she breathed.

       I ran my hands from her slight shoulders, down her back to her small. I could feel her spine and its vertebra. I pressed my thumbs into them, at the bottom. I slid down and gripped her ass cheeks and kissed each one softly, and then smashed my fist into her  back small. It could have paralyzed her, but I found out later it didn't. She gave a fast little shriek and then passed out. Now I'd have no problem finishing what I'd started and wanted.

       I twisted her onto her side and re-positioned the needle point and pushed it clean through her bud which was hard. I had to push pretty hard too. The sight of the needle point, breaking the skin from inside, to exit the other side was priceless. Nothing could have look or felt better. The needle eye came out through and the tread followed it right along. I loved how the thread slid through her nipple meat. I got to her other nipple and repeated the delightful procedure. When the thread was through both of her buds, I took the needle off its end. And shoved it into her inner thigh about two inches deep and an inch from her cunt and left it there for safe keeping. I kissed it and gave her labia an incidental fast squeeze and a soft punch. Like a love punch. Then I pressed my lips to her labia lips and pretended they were her face. I'd swear they kissed me back and when I tongued her, her clit tongued me back. And it wasn't in my wet dreams, it was for real.

       Now the rest was so fucking simple. I pulled on both ends of the thread, and, of course, her nipples were forced closer together. It didn't even take a lot of strength to get them to touch since what happened was the thread pulled them out and along and elongated the holes through which it was passing.

       I pulled even tighter until the thread was starting to cut into her buds, through the holes, and I tied it off tight in a tight knot. Her nipples were securely tied together, but they were each stretched out about an inch long, to meet.

       She'd never, ever, in her entire life looked better than that. And I was much satisfied. I rolled her onto her side so I could get some good close up pictures (I'd brought with me my older, but trusty JVC digital camera, for keeping track of the indignities I had in store for Fawcett.) and the more I was exposed to her joined nipples, the more my dick got back to the two inch safety pins calling out to me from her bedside. The thread was pulling on her nipples so hard now that the holes were elongating even more and it looked like I might be able to feed the point of a safety pin right through the same holes. I surely at least owed it to myself to give it a try. I selected the lucky pin and opened it and bent it out to a right angle. I fed the point  to the first hole and slid it along inside, beside the thread. It got about half way through her bud and it didn't want to go any further. I couldn't give a fuck what it wanted and I forced it through until it came out the other side, right beside the thread.

       

Paage 6-27c

       Now the challenge was, could I get it through the other hole in her other nipple so I could do the pin up and fasten her that way too. I forced the pin as far through her first nipple as it would go and I then twisted on the pin and twisted on her other nipple and tried to aim the point how it needed to be to slide cleanly through the second time. But the position of her other bud was just all wrong to effect this. Try as I might, with lots of might, I couldn't twist her second nipple so that the hole would line up for the pin. I was frustrated, but delighted at her tit's resistance, like her nipple alone was fighting me. What could be more delicious or better?

       OK. OK, so, but, I could make a new hole in her. A second hole and this would make the excercise easy. I'd gone through from side to side for both buds her first time but now I'd have to go down the center and out the base for this second approach. And that's what I precisely did. Right down the very tip center and out the bud just above her  areola, which was all stretched by how the thread was pulling her. I pushed it out as far as I could and closed the safety pin, and now that wasn't even very hard to do. I was so, so fucking pleased with my persistance. Now, not only were her nipples sewn together, they were safety pined together also, like for extra good measure, for safety, you might say. To be sure they couldn't come apart on their own, now.

       Now it all looked even more fatastic and my camera lens just ate it all up and I thought about safety pinning her labia together. But for now, I just wondered how many I might be able to use, or could I pin her clitoris to her inner thigh, at the very top? Or run a thread through her clit and her nipple. Now that would be interesting, like how tight could I pull it?

       Finally, I decided to pick up where I'd left off, before I got so marvelously distracted. I wriggled back under her so that she was full on top of me, laying along my boner. I kissed her and played with her head while I waited for her to come to. It took about fifteen minutes, but I was in no hurry. I knew she'd be mad when she did, so it was perfect.

       She first moaned, 'My back. Oh God, my spine.'

       And then I stuck my finger between her nipples and pulled out lightly on how she was fastened.

       'No. No. What the Hell? You didn't. Stop it. Let go.'

       'You see. I told you I'd get them together, and now I can do this, which is what I wanted from the start, to do.'

       I opened up wide and got her two buds into my mouth at once. Oh happy day. Cause to celebrate. I maneuvered my teeth just so and was biting down on them both at once, Of course, I could feel the saftey pin and I could feel the thread too with my tongue and taste a bit of seeping blood.

       She cried out and used her arms to jerk herself away. Her tits pulled right out, her nipples between my teeth. I think I scrapped her pretty good too.

       Anyhow it was time to concentrate on getting her to cum.

       'OK. That was nice. That was terrific and different. Now you fucking do it.  You fucking squirt yourself.'

       'You can't be serious, my breasts and my back, they hurt.'

       'Good. Good. They're supposed to.' I gloated back to her.

       I slid down much further until her belly was on my head. It was soft but firm. My hands gripped onto her legs at the top and back so I could slide down even more.

       My chin was just above her pubic hair, against the silk of her

panties. God I was going to squirt into the air.

       I brought my hands around to the front under her at the tops of her legs and pushed her apart really hard.

       'Oh God. You're splitting me. Stop it your hurting me.'

       I slid down the last bit and let her crotch, her labia drop right down onto my face.

       Her lips were mashed against mine.

       I opened my mouth enough to run my tongue along her crease, through the sheer fabric.

       Now I took hold of her ass.

       I turned my head slightly so I could speak.

       'OK. Now go for it. Move yourself back and forth against my face until you cum. Just slide yourself back and forth. You can control the pressure.'

       'I can't please. I can't. You're making me do something I don't want to do, but are trying to make it seem like I do want to.'

Page 6-28.

       'Start moving it. Start moving your hips and your crotch.'

       I positioned my mouth, and sometimes my chin, right up against her slit at the top where her clit was. She started to gyrate, sort of undulate around. Looking for the spot, the pressure points that would stimulate her nub. I reached up and rubbed her joined nipples lightly now. Her involuntary responses were starting to take over and she was getting sort of rubbery, engorged.

       I had my hands back to her inner thighs, underneath and pushed my thumbs to her labia, at the side, to squeeze them together and bunch them out more. It changed the position of everything inside her and she gave a small moan. She was starting to pump back and forth slightly faster and increasing the pressure on my cheek bone. I pushed my thumbs further into her labia, moving them side to side and circular, pinching her closer together. It must have been isolating her clit, making it more forward because she gave an even better gasp. Fuck was she good. And I still had my secret aid to use. She was increasing her speed of movement, but not the pressure. It's like her clit was suspended, waiting to explode, but she didn't want it to.

       She used her legs and knees to control the right height, the positions and pressure. I could see her larger inner leg muscles flexing and straining and the inner tendons protruding right to the edge of her twat. I could look right up along under her body and could see her tit mounds, all yanked together, but still jerking back and forward just a little. They were almost rigid, but not quite. They moved like a mound of frozen suspended jello, hanging ever so deliciously from her chest, her breastplate. They were perfect for eating, even devouring. A matching pair of snacks, all scrunched up together.

       Now she knew what I was leading up to.

       I opened my mouth and took in her labia and bit along her, but not hard. I got her inner ones too and did the same chewing motion. She was plenty moist by now, getting sloppy wet.

       Then I was to it.

       I opened my mouth quite a bit wider and pressed my front teeth right to her clitoral area. I pulled her down hard by her ass and she crunched against me.

       She screamed out, but not totally in pain.

       She found the right pressure point and now was moving herself across the edge of my mouth. We both could hear the slight crunching as she controlled the pressure, rubbing herself back and forth across the hard sharp surface of my front teeth. It's like she was fucking a dull knife blade and she liked it. She'd never done it before and couldn't help herself how good it felt.

Page 6-29.   

       And that was it.

       She kept that position for about ten minutes, wriggling, adjusting and regulating the pressure until she was sort of bouncing up and down on the hardness, the shape edges, until she blew.

       There's no way she faked it.

       My face was buried in her crotch, her clit being stimulated inside of her and I could feel the series of deep shudders and spasms all through her groin. She let out a guttural growl and collapsed limp on top of me breathing heavy and all sweaty.

       I moved my hands over her

       She was fucking fantastic and was sure she'd earned some real (brownie) points with me for her performance. Of course, that was the farthest thing from the truth. I must say though, she could have made a good wife for me, if she was always that good and eager in bed.

       Now it was time to punish her for her enjoyment.

       I slid out from under her and climbed up on to her sitting just below her ass on the backs of her legs. I was rough with her.

       'What are you doing? That was OK for you wasn't it? I did what you said even though I didn't think I could. So what are you doing?'

       I didn't answer.

       I was changing the ropes on her wrists back so she'd be face up again. I tied them off with the tighter stretch again.

       'No. No stop it. I only did what you said.'

       I did the same with her ankles, at last pulling her panties full down and off and now she was full spread eagled face up and scared and for the first time naked.

       'Why are you being so rough? Please stop it. You're scaring me.'

       'You had a good orgasm?' I said.

       'Yes. I had one. Like you said I had to..'

       'A good one.'

       'Well. Considering. Yes. It was OK. Good.' She just knew she was being led somewhere she didn't want to go.

       'Well that was the last fucking orgasm you'll ever have. Bitch.'

       She was ashamed of her self now. She knew she should have taken the ass fuck since she'd likely be getting it anyway.

       Had she prostituted herself. She wasn't sure, but what did it matter because I grabbed right at her labia and pinched and twisted hard. I pulled up on her pretty well lifting her off the mattress by her twat and then let her fall back.

       Then was out of the room on my way downstairs.

Page 6-30.   

       I had a plan.

       I was jittery inside, sort of like my whole body was become my cock.

       I could smell her cunt juice, her cum juice (CJ) on my face and I didn't wash it off. It was lighting me on fire.

       I retrieved a small soldering iron and extension cord from my rape kit.

       I was dangerous, now.

       I went for a snack and a beer again and looked in on the other three.

       Smith started with, 'You're raping her, aren't you? You're raping Shelly.' She sobbed.

       'Shit, she just fucked me. Face fucked me and had the best orgasm of her life.'

       'I don't believe you.' Smith countered.

           As I  just said, I had her CJ odor well plastered across my face. Her undies had become real damp and the stuff ended up on my skin, in my pores. Yippee. I bend down and pushed my face right across Smith's, across her nose. I kissed her slow. She knew the smell, that it was cunt and looked shocked and dismayed. She figured I'd forced or tricked her somehow for her personal odor to be so strong on me. The tricks, her performance, was just about to start in earnest.

       'Yeah, what do you think of that? Face fucked me like a banshee and had the orgasm of her life and now she's going to pay.'

       Fawcett was back conscious now too. 'She's just found out she's pregnant. Don't ruin it for her.'

       What a great choice of words. I'm sure she had no idea what 'ruin it' meant to me. It pretty well meant remove it, so I guess her baby would have no where to come out of (ha ha).  I wasn't thinking of cesarian at that moment. Cutting her belly open. Just about her ruined cunt. Oh shit and fuck. Her belly was so small.

       'Oh, I'll ruin it for her. You can be sure of that. Just look at her nipple and did you check her cunt bone? I think I busted it when I kneed her. I heard something crack. She won't be having any babies. Not when I'm done with her.'

       I pointed to Ladd who was still out cold. That's who I'd just been talking about.

       They looked at me with unspeakable horror and just shut up, then looked at each other.

       'Gotta go. I've got a date. Gotta put this to good use.'

       I waved the soldering iron in front of them.

       Fawcett knew what it was.

       'God will condemn you to Hell if you use that on her. Hell, your soul. I think you have a soul. Will rot in Hell.'

       'So be it. Listen for her screaming.'

       I was away and into the bathroom.

       I'm sure they were both checking Ladd's crotch right quick, feeling around and probing to feel if she was broken, as I'd just said.

Page 6-31.   

       I had a good piss and washed up a bit, around my prick, for the introduction of my cock into her vulva.

       I was really hyper sexually wired for Hack. To do her in a busting way. I just hoped I didn't murder her, get carried away and do it now instead of later. I'd worked myself all up into a sexual lather and her orgasm was the light fuse.

       I was standing over her. Ready to pounce.

       I proceeded like I had a specific mean plan and was on a time table. A mission.

       She was really scared.

       She could sense my malice, my male-ice.

       Her eyes were wide with impending horror.

       'What's that? What's that for? Please. Oh no please, you're not going to..'

       'To torture you?' I finished her unspeakable lament.

       'Oh please no. I haven't done anything to you, you didn't ask me to do.'

       'But I'm sure as fuck going to do something to you, Torture you? Yup. That's what I'm up for. What he's up for.' I pointed at my ram straight cock.

       I plugged the extension cord into an outlet and the soldering iron into the cord and turned it on and left it on the floor to heat up.

       I was up onto the bed kneeling between her legs, facing her.

       I moved in and kissed her business.

       She had so little hair it was like kissing her mouth lips.

       She was super tense and super trembling.

       I ran my tongue along the ridge of her labia minora.

       I sort of chewed on everything but didn't bite hard enough to split. But it hurt good and lots.

       I could hear crunching inside my mouth between my teeth.

       I opened her up with two hands and stared right into the eye of her clitoris.

Page 6-32.

       I was pumping my fingers back and forth in her, to give her a good hard finger fuck, and get her good and wet.

       I got down between her cheeks and thumbed her asshole.

       She had a small hemroid, of all things. I'd attend to removing it later. Maybe burn it off or squish it off with the pliers.

       Then I was ready to come.

       Ready to enter her.

       And I stopped dead.

       I pulled the hat pin out of the mattress, where I'd put it for safe keeping, found her clit nub and, twisting and digging, shoved it in about a full inch.

       She shrieked and wailed and finally passed out.

       She wasn't invincible.

       I had to smack her back and forth across her face. 

          (I'd forgotten to bring the smelling salts that were part of my rape kit. I knew I'd forgotten something. But then again, subconsciously probably thought I didn't need them just for Fawcett, my original and only target.) 

            I had to smack Hack for almost ten minutes before she revived.

       The hat pin had a pearl head and it was stuck into a pink fleshy pearl.

       By now the soldering iron was good and hot.

       I retrieved it and held it to the steel shaft of the hat pin just next to the pearl head.

       It took a few moments to heat up.

       But when it did, Holy Mother of Shit and Screams.

       I could smell her burning.

       I could see her burning.

       I could hear her sizzling.

       And it was all inside her fucking clitoris.

       Fried from the inside out.

                 Not just inside her cunt.

                 But inside the nub of her cunt.

       They heard her screams in the living room.

       And then she went suddenly silent, passed out.

       I roasted her for about three minutes more.

       I wanted to do it third degree, really proper.

       I gave her the third degree, at least her nub.

       It could work well on nipples too,

       But better with a nail to heat up.

                 Like a four inch spiral galvanized finishing nail.

       They always worked the best.

       Now I stopped.  

Page 6-33.

       I was completely ready to fuck her, the cock way.

       Now I couldn't get her to revive.

       I shook her (and her tits actually bounced a bit) and I slapped her hard but she stayed out cold.

       What good would that be if she didn't feel my cock pushing past her roasted flesh?

       Stupid bitch had no stamina, was a baby.

       So, I guessed.

       I might as well start getting the others ready to travel and maybe by then Hack would be available to feel it.

       There wasn't all that much to do really.

          I collected all of their underwear and negliges, and any other sexy items and a few bits of regular clothing. I had five garbage bags full. I re-bound each of then the same, at the ankles and at the knees, double sets around the wrists and then a tie just above the elbow. I tied their ankles to their wrists, I believe that's the true position for 'hog tied'. But none of them were pigs, so I'd say a better term, a more appropriate one, would be 'bitch tied.'

                 I bitch tied them all in about half an hour.

       I tapped all of their mouths with the aluminum furnace tape and wrapped it several times right around their heads, getting as much of their hair out of the way as I could. I collected all my stuff which I'd strewn and pulled the tape out of their security system recorder.

       I dragged them all to the door leading to the garage and lined them up the same.

       They were a spectacular sight.

       I'd pushed them onto their sides and they were like three curled up fetuses, except they were curled the wrong way, like backwards.

       I slapped Ladd and she was still way out.

       I wondered if she was in a coma, but doubted it.

                 It was dark outside now, approaching eleven PM.

       It's unbelievable how much time this torture business can eat up when you do it all right.

       The only thing left was Hack.

Page 6-34.

       I was back up to see her and I couldn't slap her conscious.

       I was mad at her.

       She was disappointing me. She had the nerve to do it.

       I cut her ties and pulled her cut panties off her one leg but left her little bra on. I held onto the panties. Trophies and all that good stuff the cops and experts like to go on about.

       I got her onto the floor and took hold of her foot and dragged her along into the hall and down the stairs.

       She bump, bump. bumped down and her head hit a few times too.

       She was being dragged like a skinny sack of sex.

       I pulled her over to where the other three were and both Smith and Fawcett cried out under their tapped mouths. They were aghast at how Hack looked. They might have caught a glimpse of her cunt and the hat pin sticking straight out.

       I lifted Hack up and threw her onto the three of them, sort of across them.

       They tried to wriggle out from under her but I pressed my knife hard to Hack's throat.

       'I'll slit her throat if you don't hold still. Hold fucking still or I slice into her windpipe, I'll cut it open.'

       They froze.

                 Basically, I laid Hack along the top of them, their middles sort of forming a cot.

                 Damn it, I wanted her to come to.

                 I took her head in my hand by the hair and slapped her fast across the cheek. I slapped her good the other side. I kept at it alternating and just about gave up when she started to moan. Fuck was she in for it.

                She started to come full to. I hadn't taped her mouth yet since it was a bit bloody again.

                 Now she cried out, 'God. Oh, God. What have you done to me. I hurt. It hurts. Oh, Jesus, my vagina...'

Page 6-35.

          I cut her off, 'Your vagina. Your fucking cunt, you mean..'

                 She continued on, 'Oh my God. No, my God. You, I can see it. You stuck something in me, in.. in..'

                 'In your clit. your fucking clitoris.' I gleefully added.

                 'You monster. You degenerate monster. How could you?'

                 'Here. I'll show you.'

                 She tried to twist away.

                 I took my switchblade and pressed it right to her throat.

                 'I'll slice your wind pipe if you don't hold still.'

                 'I don't care. It hurts so much. I don't care what you do to me now.'

                 'And what about them? You care about them?'

                She was totally defeated and barely nodded, yes.

                'Fine, so hold fucking still then, while I show you again.'

                I took hold of the hat pin head and went to pull it out. The thing was it was fused inside her, like inside her melted flesh. It pulled her clit out long but wouldn't come free. Fuck it was fantastic beautiful. But the thing was again, I didn't want to tear her clit open, at least not yet, so I flitted to my rape kit and got another hat pin. I held it right in front of her widest opened eyes I'd ever seen.

                 'Here's how.' I said and I found a spot just off where the other pin had entered and shoved it into her nub but on more of an angle.

                 God did she shriek anew and all the others wailed under their taped mouths in unison, except Ladd who was still out cold.

                Somehow, and I have no idea how, she didn't pass out. I guess some kind of natural anesthetic had kicked in.

                'Now, you see how I could and how I did and now I'm going to fuck you right on top of them.' I proclaimed proudly to her.

                She shook her head in disbelief.

                She went all silent and serious and then quietly begged, 'Mister. Oh, mister. Look at me. Look at how slender and frail I am. I'm not strong or tough and I don't deserve this, to be treated like this..'

Page 6-36.

       I interrupted her, 'You mean mistreated, don't you?'

                'I don't deserve to be mistreated like this, none of us do.'

               'Oh, no. Oh no bitch. you got that all wrong. Fawcett, you think she doesn't deserve it? She tried to murder me, cut off my balls and you think she doesn't deserve it.'

               I got up and went to Fawcett.

               I pulled her head up and could see the rage and fear in her eyes. I turned her a little to square her chest to face me.

               'Here's what she deserves.'

               I line punched her in a tit.

               'If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be like you are.'

               I line punched her again in the same tit.

               'So don't you tell me she doesn't deserve it.'

               I'd stood up and I hoofed her, like kicking a football, in the same tit.

               'Have I made my point.' I said as I took Hack's face in my hands again.

               The obvious would be Fawcett was out cold again, which she was.

               'I'm, Oh God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean. Don't hurt her anymore. I didn't mean. I didn't know. I just meant..'

               'What did you just meant?' I mocked her.

               'I was just trying to tell you, trying to get you to look at who I am. I'm not tough, I told you. I'm a loving person and have tried to life my life right, like by the Bible and what you've done to me isn't right and you shouldn't continue..'

                'But it sure feels good and right.'

                'No. No, I said..'

                'And it's going to feel gooder and righter when I fuck you, so lets get on with it unless you want me to unload on you like I just did on her.'

                 'Oh no. I.. I.. just please, don't.'

                 'I'm going to, and now. So either I lay a beating on you or I fuck you. It's your choice now. Yours to make.'

Page 6-37.

        She just gave me the most resigned, gentle look and nodded and actually positioned herself on top of them and spread her sweet long legs and opened her pussy to me with her own hands.  She looked almost defiant now and froze her mouth in stubbornness.

               'Fine. Do it.' She ordered me still keeping her labia spread.

               Well that was about the dumbest thing she ever could have done. Her show of resolve, of trying to control the situation, like have the upper hand, or that should be hands, during her own cunt rape, well  she'd really goofed.

               'You hold it. You fucking keep holding it open like that, spreading your cunt lips like that, I want a picture of it.'

                She went to close them.

               'If you do that. Stop showing me your insides, I swear I'll slice your labia clean off and theirs too.'

                She held fast how she was opened.

                'And open yourself wider. Pull your lips apart even wider.'

                She did and I almost crapped and cum at the same time.

               I retrieved my digital camera and set it on high resolution.

       I quickly got to my van and retrieved my BB gun. I'd intended to use it on Fawcett but never got around to it. Now I had a target just too good to pass up, like I just couldn't resist or control my self. The vision of the pellet puncturing her when she didn't expect it at all, I just didn't want to wait I was so rubbery and excited. God was life perfect. Almost as perfect as her cunt and the target she'd made it into. The bitch should never have done it, spread herself like that. Pried open her lips for me to see in her cunt. Whatever was she thinking? She'd totally outsmarted herself and shit was it ever going to smart.

       I got back with the camera and gun but left the blaster where she couldn't see it right off. The other two, who were conscious now, Fawcett had come to, moaning because of her smashed tit, they could see it though and all their eyes went wide.

       I took about twenty great close-ups and as many snaps from farther away to get the whole picture, you might say. Or would that be the hole picture?

Page 6-38.

       'That's good for now.' I said. 'Now I want you to close your eyes, and keep them closed.'

               She reluctantly did.

               'You keep it open. You understand? You keep your cunt  open.'

               She sort of nodded and did.

               I leaned down and slid my fingers into her spread vagina and toyed with the two hat pins.

               She whined and begged, 'Oh for God's sake, just stop it. You've hurt me and degraded me enough. So just stop it.'

               'OK. OK, so this is the deal. You think so? You really believe that? That you've had enough. I've done enough.'

                'Yes, of course, any sane person would.' She went to open her eyes to use them to plead with me.

                'You fucking keep them closed, or I swear I'll kill you all here, right now, and you'll be the last. I'll make you watch while all the others die. You got it?'

                She nodded and clamped her eyes shut like they were locked.

       I kissed her lightly on her mouth. It was clenched too.

                'Now I want you to listen very, very carefully. You're going to hear the others whining under their gags, maybe even like screaming, but you keep your eyes shut anyway. You got it?'

       'Yes. But why? Why would they?'

            I ignored her.

       I picked up the BB gun.

       I displayed it to Fawcett and Smith.

       Even though their mouths were extra taped I could make out their fear and revulsion.

       I cocked the gun and shook it a bit.

       'What's that? What are you doing? That sound?'

       'Never mind. It's nothing.'

       'Yes it is.'

       'It's nothing for you to be worried about.'

       I put the barrel to Fawcett's head, and then aimed right at her eye. She wailed under her gag.

Page 6-39.

       'Don't want that do you?'

       She nodded vigorously, no.

       I traced it down and pushed it right into her tit I'd smashed.

       'This better?'

       She still shook her head just as vigorously.

       'Well it'll have to do, that or your cunt.'

       Fawcett looked incredulous.

       'OK?'

       The moment she nodded yes, I fired right into her milk ducts and the pellet entered about half an inch.

       Fawcett squealed and Hack let go of her cunt and snapped open her eyes.

       Now she saw rifle, but thought it was a toy. So I went back to her.

       I knelt down and kissed her again on the mouth. Her lips were softer, but trembling now.

       'I told you. I fucking told you not to open your eyes and to keep your cunt pried open. Didn't I.'

       'Yes, but. I couldn't. I had to see. Why did you hurt Farrah like that?'

       'Because I was coming to you and I wanted to see what it would be like.'

       'Uh? What? What are you saying?'

       'I'm going to make this as clear as I can. You pry your cunt open again and you shut your fucking eyes and you keep the one open and the others shut. You got it?'

       'I can't. I thin you're going to hurt me. You're not going to shoot me, are you?'

       'What do you think?'

       'No, Oh God no. How could you even thing to? Why would you? How could you?'

       'You're the one who pried open her cunt, your twat and showed me the target, so now you have to live with the consequences.'

       'But no. No, I never would have thought.'

       'Of course, not. You arrogant bitches never do.'

Page 6-40.

       'I'm not arrogant and I only wanted you to get raping me over with. You said you were going to, so I got mad and wanted it to seem like I was making you do it, rather than you wanting to do it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it was foolish and petulant and I'm just sorry.'

       'Well you will be, so do what I said.'

       'I can't. Oh God. God. God, I just can't.'

       'I'm going to give you five minutes. Three hundred seconds, and if at the end of that time you aren't exactly as I want, I'm going to murder Jackie, right in front of you. And then Cheryl. And then..'

       'OK. OK, I will. Just let me work up the courage.'

       It was so fucking delicious. She'd go through the motions, like the actions and get herself spread with her eyes closed and the moment she heard me rustle, revert right back to not co-operating.

       Finally she had almost no time left.

       'Fifteen seconds. That's it and Jackie dies.'

       Her cunt was out of time.

       She summoned every ounce of her resolve and inner strength and fully complied and kept herself the way I demanded.

       I picked up the rifle.

       I cocked the toy.

       I brought it right to her head and shook it good beside her ear.

       The BB's made a roar in her brain.

       'Stop. Stop.' she cried but still complied. 'My breast. Shoot my breast instead.'

       'Your breast? Well that'd be interesting, since you have so little. It might hit your heart.' I joked.

       'No. Don't aim like that, but....'

       'Where then? Where should I shoot your breast?'

       We both knew where, but she wouldn't say.

       'Come on. Don't be shy or stupid, tell me where.'

       I slid the barrel right to her pink and nudged the hat pins still  sticking out of her clit.

       'OK. OK. No. No, my nipple then. Shoot my nipple then instead'.

Page 6-41.

       'Instead of into your cunt?'

       'Yes. Yes please..'

       'Just one?'

       'Uh? Again? Pardon?'

       'Just one nipple?'

       'Oh for the love of God, both nipples then. If that's what you want.'

       'I suppose I could live with that.'

       She opened her eyes and let her cunt close.

       I kicked her hard, to the side of her ribs.

       She wailed out, 'Why? Why'd you do that?'

       'Who said you could open your eyes and close your vagina?'

       'But I thought. I thought you said about my nipples.'

       'Well. I just don't know about you. I think maybe I should just kill you instead of the others. I can see you're going to be nothing but a problem, like an attitude problem and frankly, who needs it? I don't. Do you? Do you think I do?'

       'No, I don't mean, I assumed..'

       'Yeah, exactly. You assumed. You fucking assumed when you had no business doing that. That's the biggest problem with you cunts and bitches, you always think you know better than me. Fucking slut cunts and slime twats.'

       I sounded like I was mad, but I never was. I just loved making them think they'd made me mad, so I could really let them have it and they'd think it was all their fault. If they'd done something, or not done something differently, then whatever miserable thing that was happening to them wouldn't be. Wasn't it all just perfect justice? I thought. I loved twisting their facts.

       'I'm sorry. I'm just sorry. I didn't mean to. What can I say to you.'

       'I'll tell you what I want to hear. I want you to tell me again to shoot, to BB, both your nipples..'

       'Ok, I..'

Page 6-42.

       'I'm not finished yet. Let me finish. Stop being rude. And then to blast one right into your spread cunt.'

       There she had it. Her consequence, and she knew what a horrible mistake she'd made with her petulant action.

       Now I just looked at her. Gazed at her in amazement and amusement that I really had her this way. That I'd really said to a beautiful woman just what I had. I mean, when she got up this morning, how could she ever have envisioned this? But more to the point, what were her options now. What was she going to do?

       I mostly expected her not to comply, or at least try not to.

       'OK. OK. OK. OK. I don't know if I can stand it. But OK.'

       I knelt down beside her, sort of in a comforting manner and cradled her tear stained face and hair. I stroked her cheeks and pushed her hair away from her eyes. They were so frightened and now a little bit hopeful. Maybe it'd all been a joke, albeit a sick one, she thought and maybe she could hope more.

       'Fuck, you're beautiful. I really enjoyed on the bed upstairs. Is your ass hole still sore. That little hemroid, should I slice it off?'

       'Uh? What? No.'

       'Yeah, you're right, not now, anyway.'

       'No, not ever.'

       'Whatever.' I dismissed her.

       I cradled her more and reached for the BB'r.

       I laid it along her chest, more in her valley and she recoiled at it being there.

       'No. No. Hold still.'

       'No. No. No. Please. Oh, please. I'm a person..'

       'Sshhh. Come on, sshhh now. It'll be Ok, you'll see. It won't kill you or anything.'

       'But it'll hurt. You know it will.'

       'Well fuck, I'd say. That's why I'm doing it, why I'm going to do it, to hurt you, to punish you for your assumptions.'

       'But I don't deserve this. No woman does.'

Page 6-43.

       'God damned it. I thought we had that all settled, about why? What the fuck, don't you ever learn?'

       She thought I was getting madder and maybe more dangerous.

       'I'm sorry. I'll stop. I just don't know what to say anymore. I always seem to say the wrong thing. I'm sorry.'

       'You'll shut up then and take your medicine?'

       She meekly nodded, yes.

       I took the cocked rifle in one hand with my itchy trigger finger on the trigger. I reached over and squeezed her tiny tit up as far out as I could. I slipped her bra up and used the barrel tip to harden her bud. It took quite a few passes and scrapes, but finally her nipple muscles contracted and she was out like a pebble. I leaned over to suckle her and bit lightly. 

       Another idea flashed through my crotch and I put the gun down for a while, at least. I wondered, with her tits being so minimal, could I express her. Could I get some of the milky white, sort of clear, fluid out of her. It was certainly worth a good try.

       'You got much juice in these?' I said as I cupped her flat mound.

       'Uh? No, what? What do you mean?'

       'You know, the milk like stuff. Some women, even ones who aren't pregnant, and oh, yes, I've heard the news, you are pregnant but just found out, but regular women, they can squirt a stream out of their nipples. Like a water gun's squirt.'

       'You're disgusting. Why. Why would I.'

       'No, you're right. You normally wouldn't but I want to see it before I use the (I touched the rifle, lovingly), so how about you try for me. I want to taste it.'

       'You are so utterly disgusting. How do you find ways to out disgust yourself?'

       'So do it. I love it. So do it.'

Page 6-44.

       She could see my mind was set and it was pointless to try to stall me, so she reached to her own sweet tiny breast, with her two hands and squeezed her self out, much like I'd done, but not as hard and not cruelly. She worked herself from the edges of her breast forward, squeezing what little she had flat into a rounded ridge. She held herself that way with one hand, pinched tightly, like clamped and took her other hand and squeezed from another position, another angle. She worked herself, like massaging and then gave a hard fast double handed pinch and the little spurt shot out the center of her nipple. The little squirt almost got me in the eye and I fucking loved it.

       'Oh fuck. Fuck you cunt, you did it.'

       She'd let go of herself somewhat satisfied.

       'Fuck, let me taste it.'

       I slobbered all over her areola and managed to lap up the dribble that remained in its crinkles.

       'Fuck, that was better than a chocolate milkshake. Milk. Milk shake. Fuck I want some more of your milk shake.'

       I grabbed onto her same tit with, all my might, both hands. I pinched her out so hard she turned red and then purple. I squeezed and crunched and twisted like I was trying to wrench her breast off rather than get a bit more juice out of it.

       'For God's sake stop it. You're hurting me. Really hurting me. That's not how you do it.'

       'It's fucking how I do it.' and I hand viced her even harder.

       I must have done it for maybe a minute, uninterrupted, and then of all things she shot a squirt with some pink, like red blood in it. What could have been more perfect?

       'Fuck, you're bleeding. I must have ruptured some of your tit inside, look it's sort of red, the juice, like tomato.'

       'Please, I implore you, enough is enough. You've seen what you said and more, so just please, stop.'

       'I could do the other one.'

       'No. No. No. Just, just don.t'

Page 6-45.

       'Ok. That's good. I'm good with that, lets get back to my friend.'

       I picked up the BB gun again and had the trigger on my finger.

       I squeezed her expressed tit out hard again and her nipple was forced out and was still pretty hard, at least hard enough.

       I laid the barrel of the gun along her tit and held the muzzle hole right to her bud, almost touching it, but not by maybe a sixteenth of an inch.

       She looked at me in disbelief and with pleading eyes.

       I satisfied my finger's itch.

       The thing is, the copper pellet didn't go through her nipple. It tore into it and stayed inside, but I could see the round contour of it opposite the entry hole it'd created.

       Hack screeched and passed out.

       The others wailed and struggled with their restraints.

       I was much more curious about inspecting how Hack's nipple was compromised. Fuck was it ever fantastic. I could easily feel the BB inside her. I didn't even have to pinch hard to find it. I could have forced it back out, where it'd gone in, but didn't want to. I wanted to leave it in her. I kissed her and suckled her and, of course, the new flavor of the moment, was her blood. I pulled her little bra back down to cover her wound and in no time it was nicely stained red. I decided I wasn't going to blast her other nipple right now. There were so many other nasty things to aim at it. But I still had her pink to deal with and I hadn't fucked her yet.

       Hack took about twenty minutes to come to, and I joked and molested the other three while I patiently waited.

       I pretended I was going to do the same to Smith's nipple and she fully fucking freaked. I shot her in the inner thigh instead, about an inch off where her twat started. I fingered her too and then put the slime from her cunt into Fawcett's and then into Ladd's. I really mixed up their juices, sort of like a blender.

       Hack came too moaning.

       I comforted her again.

       'Shit. It didn't go all the way through. What do you think of that?' I said. Some comfort I was.

Page 6-46.

       'Please, get it out then. It could poison me. Please.'

       'No, it won't. It's not lead, it's copper so it won't, and I kind of like it in there. It feels different.'

       'You're so sick and miserable, How can you?'

       'Look, I'm going to do you a favor, a big one. I'm not going to blast your other one.'

       She barely looked relieved and for good reason.

       'But we, I still have to do your cunt.'

       Well the thing was, now she knew how much it hurt her nipple, so she knew her cunt pain would be beyond excruciating.        How could she let me now?

       What incentive could possibly persuade her to co-operate?        She didn't know, but I did.

       I'd used my little hobby soldering iron to heat up the hat pin in her clit, but I also had with me, in the van, my plumber's propane soldering torch. Again, I'd intended to roast Fawcett's clit right to her cunt bone, but would have to get to it later.

       'I want you to spread your labia lips again. Like before. And then we'll be done with it.'

       'For the sweet love of God, you know I can't now. You know I know how much it hurts and I just can't. It's not at all possible. Not now.'

       I cradled her head and brushed her cheeks and put my index finger softly to her quivering and timid lips.

       'Ssshhh, and listen. You do not want to say something again you'll regret. You must know that by now, about me. So listen closely, you have to. Period, you have to.'

       'But I can't. Please you have to know it now. I can't.'

       Her eyes and her face truly pleaded with me. She was never more sincere.

       'That's not the right answer. Now you think about it. Really, down deep. I've hurt you already, and you can see I enjoy it,  so don't ever think I can't, or won't, hurt you worse. There's always worse. Always.'

Page 6-47.

       She just sort of mewled and tried to pull away into herself.

       To escape to her bed where she'd awoken in safety in the morning of this horrible and memorable day.

       I gave the BB in her nipple a little pinch.

       She stopped whimpering and howled.

       And I didn't even pinch her hard.

       'OK, so, you really need to do it. Get yourself in position again.'

       'I will not do it. I just can't. So do whatever you have to do.'

       'This is your very, very last chance.'

       I looked at her almost with pity, like softly, like I really cared and I so wanted to light the torch. But I wanted to give her every chance too, at least make it seem like I was.

       'OK. OK, but understand, if I show you, if I reveal what's next, what could be next, then it's too late. Once I show you, then I swear, I'll follow through.'

       The thing was, the other two could see the propane torch, but Hack couldn't and they howled in unison that she should not induce me to use it. But gagged as they were, none of their cries were distinguishable. Their urgency was evident but not its content. She should pay really close attention but was choosing not to.

       'Spread your labia lips, and do it wide.'

       She looked as if she was going to try to comply and got hold of her twat with two hands. Then she lashed out and tried to slap me repeatedly. I easily grabbed onto her thin wrists and pinned them well stretched above her head. I pushed my mouth down and bit on the BB in her nipple. She shrieked and still tried to slug me, but it was more like wrestling. I smacked her to the temple and she was somewhat stunned, but not out cold.

       'Very well then. Have it your way then.'

       I got up and retrieved the propane torch. Right away she knew what it was and shrieked like a banshee. She knew now she'd made a fucking large mistake. She tried to crawl away and I grabbed onto her hair at the side and yanked her back roughly. Some of her silk thin blonde hairs pulled out.

Page 6-48.

       She was trying to get upright, up onto her feet, and when she was half way there, like up, I fisted her to her other temple. She collapsed again in a heap and the others went wild, trying to struggle out of their bindings.

       There was so much going on, I didn't notice that Ladd had come to, so there was really a lot of wriggling and jerking.

       I got to the torch and got it lit.

       Hack was semi conscious but could well hear the roar of the blue flame with the bright orange tip that was starting to heat up the wide flat copper soldering tip.

       I flipped her onto her back and grabbed onto her labia. I squeezed her hard, and pressed my thumb in, and she squished open some. There was lots of pink showing and both hat pins were sticking right straight out. Fuck it. I grabbed the one I'd heated and yanked it out. It tore her, some of her clit came with it and the skin was glued to the needle. Now she screeched for serious injury and her volume was incredible. All the others were adding to the cacophony. What a symphony of incredible music (to my ears and crotch). I yanked the other one out too and just jabbed it into to her tit, so I wouldn't lose it.

       Somehow she managed to come too.

       'For God's sake. Don't burn me. Don't burn my vagina with that. Shoot me instead. Use the pellet gun, oh please.'

       Shit, what was I to do now. I had a prime fuck beautiful cunt begging me to shoot her in it. What could be sweeter than that?

The smell of it roasting, like fried?

       I needed to pause.

       Fuck, I wanted to burn her cunt.

       Fuck, I wanted to shoot her cunt.

       I could flip a coin.

       OK. Ok, I needed to think.

       I came up with a better idea.

       'Calm down. I think I have a solution. OK. I'll shoot you. Twice, OK, twice. Right in your clit, and it's hurt now. When I pulled the pin out it got torn from inside. You want to look at it. I'll get you a mirror.'

Page 6-49.

       She was incredulous I'd think she'd want to see it.

       I loved seeing it and fingered her and pinched her to inspect her better.

       'OK. No. You don't want a peek see?'

       'Go to Hell. You're deranged.'

       'OK.  So I'll shoot you only, but only if I still get to use the torch. Do the cunt burning.'

       'No. Oh, God no. You said not.'

       'No, not you. You pick one of them.'

       Everyone went stone cold dead silent.

       Fuck and fuck and fuck, what was she to do?

       To save her own flesh she had to chose another's cunt to be burned.

       Fuck and fuck, what was she to do?

       I was so satisfied with the conundrum I'd created for her, I decided I had to stay for the duration. Like it could take a few hours to sort out, but it was all so delicious I just had to persevere and make the effort and sacrifice.

       I went to the other three.

       'Looks like we have a situation here. I guess we'll have to delay our departure until its settled.'

       I dragged Smith by her hair back into the living room and cut the cord connecting her ankles to her wrists. I hoisted her up onto the couch and stripped off her mouth tape.

       The moment she was un-gagged, she started right in, 'You maniac. Who the Hell, do you think you are? What do you think you're doing to her, to us?'

       I grabbed her hair and back handed her lips. She licked at the blood.

       'Shut the fuck up, or I'll punch you instead of slap you.'

       She shut the fuck up.

       I went back for Ladd, and she was trying to squirm away, which was a pretty funny sight, considering how she was tied. I caught onto her by her arms, secured behind her back, fastened to her ankles, and dragged her pretty well sideways, her tits scrapping along the floor.

Page 6-50.

       She was trying to kick and buck but ended up in front of the couch anyway. I dropped right down on top of her and grabbed at her tits. I got a good hold and hoisted her up beside Smith, using her jugs for handles. She wasn't remotely amused about that and when her mouth tape came off she wasted no time letting me know.

       'I hate you. You're scum. Why do you think you can treat me, us that way? I hate you. I..'

       Smith started in, 'You're a monster if you think..'

       I grabbed Ladd's head and I grabbed Smith's head, both by the hair, and smacked them together, pretty good hard.

       'I'll crack your fucking skulls if you don't keep it zipped.'

       Their zippers stayed closed.

       I had Fawcett to deal with now and she was going to be the fiercest. She bucked and wriggled like a banshee even before I laid a new hand on her. She was like a shark out of water. I didn't have a lot of patience for her antics so kicked her, right off, to the side of her tit, which was facing down to the floor. I twisted her upwards and elbowed her full to her nipple. I grabbed hold of her head and yanked her, one jerk at a time, all the way to the couch. I heaved her up onto the couch beside Smith and grabbed my knife and shoved it up hard under her throat.

       'I'm going to rip your gag off. If you say one fucking peep, I'll cut your tongue out, but first I'll cut your clit out. You got it?'

       She managed to force herself to nod, yes.

       I stripped her gag off and nary a word came from her mouthy lips.

       I patted her head, like a good pet dog and said, 'There. There, you see you can do it if you want to.'

       Her eyes would have killed me if they could have shot needles. Still she was trying to kill me with killer glares. And I fucking loved it. I knew her brain was on fire, where her anger center lived.

       Finally I had them all lined up like ducks in a row. Now it was time to go fetch their hunter. I got a chair and set it a few feet away, directly in front of the middle of the couch. I was back to Hack and propelled her to the chair.

Page 6-51.

       'You sit on it. You face them, and you don't fucking move.'

       She was totally disheveled and somewhat unsteady but she managed to sit there before her friends. Secretly, I wondered who was the least of her friends, of the three.

       'OK. You know what this is about. Don't you?' I pulled up on her chin, and Hack jerked it back.

       I went and got the propane torch and re-lit it.

       'You've got five minutes to chose, or then I fry yours.'

       I got another chair and just sat off to the side, and relaxed.

       Hack, mewled to her friends, 'What can I do? What am I supposed to do?'

       Fawcett started right in, 'Don't you let him do this to us. He wants to break us and turn us on one another. Don't let him.'

       Hack replied, 'But he's going to... I can't stand it, the thought of it. What am I supposed to do?'

       Smith pleaded with her, 'Shelly, you can't let him dehumanize you like this, by choosing. Don't chose and then he can't  have his victory. You can't give up your humanity by asking him to hurt one of us instead. You just can't.'

       Hack tried not to hear her earnest please. 'Jackie, Jackie, I love you. You know I love you. You know how I love you. I'd never chose you. So don't worry. You're safe. I'd never...'

       (It was in there, between the words. They'd done some lesbo stuff. Fuck and fuck, would I ever have to explore that.)

       Smith cut back in, 'No, No, Shelly. You can't chose anyone. You can't because then you still lose. That's the point. We're in the hands of a monster and he doesn't have any morals, any humanity. And he'll take yours too if you let him.'

       'Jackie, I love you. I'll never chose you.'

       The problem was, Hack and Ladd, never really got along and Ladd knew it. They'd had words a few times and a couple of times it got quite bitchy and personal. Ladd had the biggest tits and Hack had the littlest, and at some level Hack had always been jealous of her endowment. Why couldn't God have given her just a little tit more and Ladd a little bit less. That would have been fair, wouldn't it? Hack didn't like her and she wouldn't really mind if her clit was burned instead.

Page 6-52.

       Ladd sensed this and had to try to deflect Hack's motives.

       'Shelly. Shelly, you know I'm sorry for some of the differences we've had. Maybe I got a little nasty sometimes, but so too did you. You did too and you know it.'

       'Hey. Hey, what's going on here? I asked. 'You two have a history? You have issues?'

       They both ignored me.

       I went to Hack and stroked her face and knelt down in front of her. 'So then? This should be easy then. Hey, like payback time. Don't struggle with it. Fuck, not when you have an obvious choice.'

       'It's not that simple. I still have to live with myself.'

       I brought the flaming torch closer and held it up in front of her face, 'Yeah but you'd be living without most of your cunt, at least the most important part. You want that?'

       She moved her head to indicate, no.

       'Of course not. Of course you don't want that. So give me the go ahead. I'll burn Cheryl's clit instead of yours. Just give me the nod.'

       Hack looked me deep into my eyes. I nestled my fingers in between her legs and finger nailed her injured nub.

       'You want it hurt more?'

       She barely indicated, no, again.

       She was weakening and I knew she was going to roll over on Ladd.

       I kissed her lips very gently, and whispered into her ear, 'It's alright. You can do it, and it'll be alright. You'll see.'

       I pulled my face away from hers to receive her OK and she spit in my eye and again to my cheek, some of it into my mouth which I liked the taste of her fear and defiance.

       'I'll never. I'll never let you make me like you. You're a monster and I'll never be one.'

       I took her head full in my fists and forced her head down, almost between her knees and smashed my elbow into the spine of her back. I thing I cracked a vertebrae, but farther up where it wouldn't paralyze her. I grabbed onto her shoulders and yanked her forward and threw her face down along the floor in front of the other three.

Page 6-53.

       She twisted around to get onto her back to face her attacker. I went for her and Smith tripped me as I went by. I staggered and fell almost on top of Hack and then Fawcett jumped up and threw herself on top of me. Ladd followed and then Smith.

       Ladd tried to knock me out by butting her hard head against mine. Fawcett tried to butt her head into my balls and Smith was up for biting my arm. There were four of them fighting for their lives and I only had one life to give. I suppose I was rightly outnumbered. These were strong now, well motivated bitches and I was in a bit of a pickle. Now it was me bucking and kicking and I just managed to break free of the pile of murderous arms and legs and mouths.

       I got back about ten feet away and they knew it was all over. The biggest and best chance they could ever have hoped for had passed them on by. Now they would have to pay, and they all knew it. I approached them and stood all powerful (again) over them. I started to kick. I didn't give a fuck who I got or where. I danced a circle around them landing the boots every few seconds. I hopped up on the couch and crash landed on top of the pile of them and quickly scampered away to go at them again.

       I managed to grapple Smith's head from the pile and pulled her loose and smacked the top of her skull right into the edge of a table. She was out cold and I kicked her four good boots to her crotch and inner legs. I was back to the pile and isolated Ladd next. I just punched her in the twat twice before she passed out too.

       Fawcett still was the toughest. So I wasn't about to take any chances so didn't even give her one. I stamped on her arm above the elbow and broke it. I heard it snap like a branch. She squealed out and I kicked her where I'd just broken her. She tried to keep fighting but had to pass out.

       Now. Now I was ready to finally fuck Hack.

       I dragged the other three to line them up side by side, like before, and dumped Hack on top of them.

       'So help me. I'll fucking kill you right now if you try even  one more thing.'

Page 6-54.

       She was barely cognizant but wasn't unconscious.

       The torch was still burning and the copper tip was red hot. I grabbed it and shut the flame off and went in with it for her cunt. I didn't care what part of her womanhood I roasted as long as I burned her good and third degree. Maybe even fifth degree. She saw it coming but was too slow to twist away and I shoved the whole soldering tip about three inches into her canal. Well talk about pop and sizzle and steam. She shrieked the loudest I'd ever heard and passed out cold fast. I wanted something left of her cunt to fuck, so I pulled the red hot iron out right away. Her labia blistered deep red immediately so I could only imagine how bad the inside of her canal was buggered. I went to get into her, but her labia lips were almost fused together. I pried them apart, viciously and had to use considerable strength but finally got her hole opened enough to get my prick into it. I fucked her on top of them.

       It was ingenious and incredible and totally perverse.

       I squeezed her tits like I was trying to crush them, eliminate them, except as I said, there wasn't much to eliminate.

       I rode her for about ten minutes and as I came, I punched her in the mouth. She had a mouthy look and I fixed it.

       Then I kissed her and tied her up and gagged her.

       Her lower lip was bloody and her beautiful white teeth bloodstained between them.

       The only fat on her was her lip.

       I re-gagged the other three and while doing it, Smith and Fawcett came full too. I dragged the unconscious Ladd to my van and dumped her in through the rear doors. I have a detailed description of how I modified the van which is fairly long, so I'll offer is as part of another chapter.

       Suffice to say, it was partitioned from the front, sound proofed, had tie downs for ropes and no windows back of the front seat. I also installed a spare gas tank so I could drive seven hundred miles on one fill up.

Page 6-55.

       I tried to wrestle Smith into the van next. She tried to kick like a cat in a bag. I guess she knew if she ended up in the van she'd never be coming back. She was kicking for her life, you might say.

I told her I'd kill the others, if she didn't let up, but I guess she thought I'd do that anyway so she kept bucking and thrashing. It was actually a hoot to watch since so much of her spilled out of her clothes and showed as she arched and sank.

       I went to the living room and found the poker.

       I held it to her throat and pushed.

       She screamed out under her tape gag.

       I just held it there increasing the pressure slowly.

       I was thinking to kill her right there.

       But I really didn't want to. What a waste it would be.

       I fast moved the poker down to her crotch and shoved it into her vagina. The barb went all the way in.

       I gave it a hard twist and she passed out too.

       Damn it, I wouldn't be able to fuck her right, for awhile, but at least she was still alive.

       I'd kicked her too in the cunt, so that had to count for something as well.

       I wrested her into the van like the others.

       I was back for Fawcett.

       After she saw what I'd done to Smith, she wasn't fighting, offered no resistance.

       But oh, what the Hell.

       'Remember this? What you did to me with it? You remember how you used it on me?'

       I could hear her, 'No. No.' muffled pleas.

       I slowly drew it down her front to her cunt.

       I jiggled the bloody tip into her crease and turned it back and forth.

       I stood up and pressed it down into her at an upright angle.

       I was forcing her labia into her leg at the top.

       It was starting to break the inner, slippery skin.

       Her muffled screams were deafening.

       Her broken arm twisted at a peculiar angle.

Page 6-56.

       I stopped.

       'I think I'll take this with me for later.'

       With that, I pulled her up and guided her into the van back with my boot.

       Now only Hack was left.

       I stood over her broken body.

       She was sprawled sort of on her side and I put my foot to her ass. She flopped over onto her front. Her ass cheeks were bare and inviting, like calling me. They were lilly white but quite scrapped and scratched now but oh so delicate, almost bony and my boner sure wanted her sphincter.

       I remembered her hemroid.

       I re-lit the torch and let it heat up.

       When it was good and hot, I pried her cheeks apart and disappeared her 'roid. It sizzled and popped before it puckered and vanished. I kissed her sweet crack and got my prick good and up and into her ass hole. I buggered her for about five minutes and left her another load. I'd come so fast in her cunt, I had lots left.

       As I shot her the jizz, I pounded on the side of her little tit. I hit her a dozen times and one of her ribs gave way. I pulled out and flipped her back onto her back. She was a corpse, but alive.

I spread her legs wide. I knelt down between them and picked up the hot torch again.

       I took the blunt end of the propane cylinder and smashed it into her cunt bone, using two hands.

       Again.

       And then again.

       Everything about her vagina was shattered.

       I saw my switch blade within reach. It'd gotten knocked loose during all the melee.

       I pulled her up and hugged her and gave her a soft kiss.

       I pulled her tangled hair away from her angelic, but pained face and kissed her more.

       I rocked her gently.

       She so deserved to live.

       She so deserved to die.

Page 6-57.

       'OK, baby girl. It's OK. You really don't want to wake up.'

       I picked up the knife and switched the blade out ready.

       I kissed her tiny tits, one after the other.

       I tenderly placed the tip of the knife to her nipple, on her heart side.

       I pushed lightly into her nipple so that I moved it to where the blade could go in between her ribs, but right through the center of her bud.

       Her life was suspended.

       And in a slow, deliberate, firm shove, her heartbeats were suspended. She didn't even gasp a last gasp.

       I held her like that for about a minute and kissed her again and laid her down softly, like with reverence, onto the floor.

       I was pretty sure I could jizz her dead, but I'd need a few minutes to recharge.

       The others were all loaded.

       I went to them.

       I organized them so that I could put a rope through each of their bindings at the back and I tied it off to a floor eyelet.

       I was tired, but pumped to the max.

       I'd just murder-fucked a beautiful woman and wanted to give her corpse a go.

       I went back in to do her.

       Well shit and holy fuck, some how the knife had missed her heart and had gone in where no vital organs were sliced.

       She was moaning.

       And even I knew in my frenzy and zeal, the dead don't moan.

       Now I didn't feel like fucking her again.

       This was truly a gift.

       I'd get to do her again and again.

       While her nipple was sliced right in half, down the center, there was very little blood now.

       I kissed her wound.

       I kissed her mouth.

       I licked her cunt.

Page 6-58.

       'Well sweet cheeks, you sure must want to live.'

       She wasn't conscious enough to understand me.

       'I don't know why you would, but I'm good to go then.'

       I bound her the same as the others and gagged her.

       I dragged her to the van and fastened her to the pile of others.

       I was still pumped since I hadn't done her corpse so was well ready for the drive and it was only about two hours anyway.

       When I got them to my place, that's when they'd learn what real torture and abuse were about. I suppose that would be the other three. I figured Hack had a pretty good idea already.

       But still, this had been the appetizer.

       Everything was completed at Fawcett's house.

       I'd closed the electronic gate, Hack had had a remote with her.

       And we were merrily on our way down the road.

       Merrily, Merrily, Merrily,

       Life is but a dream.

       Merrily, Merrily, Merrily,

       Life is but a van load of wacked cunts.

       All waiting to die.