DRUG WARS 1 – THE COURIER

Chapter I – Back to Miami

The girl watched in silence as her plane descended over Miami and approached the airstrip. She had the privilege to travel on business class so the eight hour flight was really comfortable, but unfortunately not too relaxing. Not for her. She was excited, and with every minute the landing got closer, Tara felt her heartbeat quicken. During the rest of the long flight she could divert her thoughts by watching some silly movies about vampires and pajama-wearing superheroes. The three glasses of Johnnie Walker also helped her to ease her worries, but as time got closer, the unrest in her soul became less and less bearable.

This was not her first flight -- she had made an earlier roundtrip to Brazil just a month ago -- but this second one proved to be worse than the first. Tara worried that a lady like herself, flying twice to South America in such a short period of time, would grab the attention of US customs officers. Even if her story was believable -- a rich boyfriend in Rio de Janeiro who likes to have his trophy girlfriend visit once a month -- Tara was concerned about what awaited her. She really hated the strict look on customs officers' faces when they watched the crowd passing through the green channel. It was not for her of course: she needed to declare the expensive gold necklace and the brand new laptop that were her "gifts", mementos of a passionate date. The best technique was to get in the front line to deflect suspicion; at least so she was told by Redneck Joe, the planner of her mission.

For Tara it was impossible to remain unnoticed, and she knew that very well. She had become accustomed to the continual attention of people around her. She knew her fate was to live with the lascivious looks of men and to be the target of hatred mixed with envy by women. At the age of twenty-one Tara was a stunningly beautiful woman. She could easily play with her appearance, pretending to be any age from fifteen to thirty.  It was hard to estimate her real age when professionally applied make-up enhanced her perfect face. Tara was tall, a real model type at almost one point eight meters, and weighing only fifty-five kilos, her body was svelte, curvaceous and virtually flawless.

She was the perfect example of what it meant to be 'leggy'.  Her slender, long legs were one of her best features and always grabbed attention. Some churchy, old fashioned mummies might have called her morbidly skinny, but Tara knew very well that her body was close to the ideal of the day. Yet despite being so slim, her curves were more than ample. Her thighs were luscious and her bottom was round and firm. She did a lot to maintain those curves. Running and dancing were part of Tara's daily schedule, and for a lady whose life was organized around showing off her body, keeping herself in shape was essential.

Tara’s other primary attractions protruded proudly above her flat abdomen: her perfectly round D cup breasts affected men like an icy beer offered in an oasis in the middle of the Sahara. They were perfect specimens, although their perfection made it clear they were fake. Or better stated, their perfection was assisted by a little artificial intervention. Tara never thought of her breasts as if they weren't completely real, even though recently they contained something that was definitely not a usual constituent of female breasts, real or fake.

Tara's large implants were actually filled with a gelatinous liquid in which had been dissolved a concentrated powder better known as Blue Velvet. It was a new but increasingly popular cocaine derivative that in just months had taken over the lion’s share of Miami's drug market. Users of Blue Velvet could not get enough of the highly addictive stimulant. Unlike other substances, Blue Velvet's regular dose was only a small fraction of that for heroin or cocaine. The amount in Tara’s tits was enough to supply Miami for a week, at least after it was mixed up with some speed and formed into tiny pills. Tara's already ample breasts felt twice as heavy after the routine operation in Rio de Janeiro. She was told that a half kilo of clean substance could be transported in both tits once it had been dissolved in the gel.

If somebody wanted even more than a flawless ass and superb legs and breasts on the same woman, Tara's face was yet another marvel. Being a natural blonde and having entrancing blue eyes, Tara already had an unfair advantage over most other females, but these features were complemented by a surprisingly charming face. Her royal nose and wide smile promised unimaginable pleasures to those fortunate men who caught Tara's glance. And at the very moment the four-engine Airbus landed in Miami, this beautiful face, with its heart-melting and cock-hardening eyes, expressed concern.

After the plane docked, the business class passengers were released first, but Tara intentionally walked slowly to let the majority of the people catch up with her. She had two reasons to do so. First, she wanted to arrive as part of the crowd at the gates -- it was better to blend in with the other arrivals even if her physical attributes made that almost impossible. Second, she was wearing those extremely high stiletto heels which made the walk less comfortable and forced her to stride awkwardly when in a hurry. Because Tara needed to maintain her respectability if an official asked about her trip, she had to be able to make her story sound plausible. The romantic parting kiss with her millionaire boyfriend required her to be as attractive as possible.

Accordingly, Tara was dressed like she had just left a high class ball. Her black evening dress was both expensive and trendy with a deep décolletage. Little would the customs officers know that the bulging breasts catching their attention were actually nests for the States’ most wanted drug. Tara also wore an impressive selection of gold jewellery – but she did not wear the decoy necklace. That was in her handbag, together with all the official documents needed for the customs declaration. Before landing she fixed her make-up so she looked fresh and stunningly sexy.

The only detail she wasn't satisfied with was her nails. It was more than ten days since she last visited a salon, and although her toenails were still okay with their glittery silver polish, the roots of her French manicured, three centimetre fingernails had grown too fast, leaving visible thin lines missing the glossy lacquer. Even if it was not a crucial flaw, being somewhat offset by her shiny rings, it still bothered Tara who was quite sensitive and fastidious about such matters. Her beauty was her life, her most revered attribute and her ticket to a brighter future. Not surprisingly, she took great care of her body.

As soon as enough people were around, Tara picked up the crowd's pace and kept walking through the seemingly never-ending terminal. She saw how the men turned around to catch a secret glimpse of her, no matter if they were alone, holding hands with their wives or even carrying young kids on their shoulders. She actually felt the looks of others behind her as they aimed their gaze onto her shapely buttocks and luscious legs. Under normal circumstances all these things would have amused her, but this time she was under too much pressure to enjoy the attention.

In fact, it was not the customs check that worried Tara. She had already cleared Rio de Janeiro security, a far more stressful experience as the consequences of being caught – like the horrific Brazilian jails –  were far worse than what she could expect in the States. No, it was not the risk of being discovered that made her legs so heavy. The real reason she was afraid was the Valentino gang: Redneck Joe, Valentino's right hand man, the Opossum, that huge black guy who was a professional assassin, and Dan Broderick the chief of the pimps in Valentino's territory.

These men were cold-hearted, immoral gangsters whose religion was money. Human life, either male or female, meant nothing to them. Tara knew that well. She had spent enough time with them to understand that in the underworld's reality, everyone was just an expendable chess piece. Principles like morality, sacrifice or loyalty were unknown. If she failed her mission, Tara wouldn’t have a chance. The drug shipment must be delivered at all costs. If Tara were arrested, she would soon meet a sudden and gruesome death. For her, all that mattered was that she clear customs and deliver the goods, carefully stashed in her oversized breasts, to her bosses.

The crowd started to form lines in front of the passport check area. Tara was forced to choose one of the longer queues because although she had been in the US for almost two years, she was not an American citizen. In front of her, a Brazilian family stood with two little children, arguing vigorously. Tara had learned some Spanish words in the last couple of years, but the quicker Portuguese tongue sounded completely alien to her ears. She managed to form a sad smile, thinking things were so much different two years ago when she first arrived in America.

Tara was born and grew up in a small European country, a single child of alcoholic parents. Her childhood was not happy nor all that memorable. What little she could recall involved furious altercations, screaming and tears. She did not even finish high school; instead she met a boy when she was seventeen and moved to his place in Vienna. The bastard was a spoiled child of rich parents, but despite all his flaws he gave Tara the opportunity to leave her family and her old life behind.

When Tara turned nineteen, her boyfriend broke up with her, leaving her to move back with her even more unbearable parents. Only two months passed in that living hell before Tara realized there was no way she could stay at home. Unqualified but attractive, she chose an easy but prurient way to make money: Tara turned to the sex industry. Only three days after her nineteenth birthday she shot her first porn scene. After a few more onscreen appearances she got the chance to fly to the US and work for a studio there. She arranged for a visa, bought her ticket and two days later landed in Miami.

Not having a green card, Tara had fallen into a trap. The men who lured her to America were not pornographers; they were hardcore mobsters. They did have a porn studio, but the immigrant girls they hired were not working as actresses but as exotic pole dancers and luxury prostitutes.  The recorded porn scenes were mostly used to advertise the girls’ services.

Tara worked for Valentino's gang from the very beginning, and unlike a lot of other girls she became quite successful. She was young, fresh, extremely beautiful and quite smart, at least compared to the others. She soon found herself in the exclusive club of Valentino's top girls, a striptease dancer and prostitute servicing only the VIP clients. That position granted Tara a lot of privileges: she had her own apartment, as well as free days to recover and enjoy herself. Valentino even paid for some cosmetic surgeries.

Tara was a valuable commodity so she was treated relatively well. And she learned to hold dear all she got.  The bosses made sure to show all the top girls how special they were and how much better their lives were compared to the others. As a consequence, on several occasions Tara saw how Broderick's men treated the disobedient girls.

She once was shown a Russian girl tortured so horribly that Tara was frightened half to death. The girl had made the mistake of going to the police to testify against the gangsters. Just twenty-four hours later, the girl found herself in a basement where she was raped again and again.  She subsequently was electro-shocked then burnt with cigarettes and soldering irons.  Her nails were ripped off, and by the time Tara saw her, Broderick had just pulled her teeth out with rusty pliers. Tara never forgot the five minutes she was forced to witness her suffering.  She vowed never to cheat the bosses and endure the same fate. Tara never saw the Russian girl again and wisely chose not to ask questions about what happened to her.

At Miami International, Tara’s passport check proved to be no problem, even if she was not a US citizen. Having the green card helped her to get through the process easily, as did her local condo, her job in Miami and the fact she was paying taxes. Of course, everything had been arranged for her. Being a drug courier was not a safe occupation, but as the drugs in her tits were worth a great deal to her bosses, they made sure that everything went smooth as silk. Tara smiled at the police officer as she took her passport back.

"Welcome home, Ms Janecek." The young man smiled back but he was obviously having a hard time fighting the urge to stare openly at Tara's breasts.

"Thank you," Tara replied using her sexiest voice, then turned around, leaving a rather embarrassed young lad behind. Only a few of Valentino’s girls had the ability to become such effective drug couriers. The first requirement was that they possess extremely large, fake breasts, a not uncommon attribute among the well-endowed selection of porn starlets and slave prostitutes. Second, the chosen few must have a certain level of intelligence and general literacy, talents which definitely narrowed the field. Third, the couriers needed to be loyal, as sometimes they had to act independently and without continual supervision.

Tara perfectly filled all three criteria.  As to the third, she was in love – a deep and passionate love – with one of her fellow prostitutes. In Tara’s world, men were either aggressive, cruel and immoral gangsters ruling her life with an iron fist, or ugly, perverted, drunk clients who used her to satisfy their unnatural and extreme desires. Both kinds treated her like a piece of meat, albeit a piece of meat which was very attractive and desirable. Surrounded by such men, it was not uncommon that girls working together eventually fell in love with each other, at least when the gangsters allowed such romances to develop.  In the case of Tara and Ella, they encouraged it, because as long as Tara was devoted to Ella she was the perfect courier, the faithful dog who always wanted to come back.

The luggage claim area was huge and shiny, far too modern for Tara's taste. But being there meant she had already jumped half the hurdles of her mission. She had only a small, rolling suitcase that arrived among the first pieces on the carousel. But again she had to wait until the rest of the crowd headed toward the customs check behind the main exit. Standing in the middle of the huge hall she switched on her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Morales?  Yes, it's me. Got my suitcase. Ten… fifteen minutes and I'm out. Everything is alright.  There won't be a problem with customs. Yes, my tits are fine, a bit heavy, but okay. I took good care of them.  Sure, I’ll get the car and pick you up outside the airport. See you then."

Tara closed her phone and put it back in her bag. She had become used to ignoring the glimpses aimed at her body – otherwise she would have gone mad with all the men ogling her. As a result, she didn’t notice the man wearing a porter’s uniform walking away from her and dialing his cell phone.

"She is here. I’ll pick her up at her car… alone, within fifteen minutes."  This was all the man said before he disappeared.

Tara got through customs without any problems. She filled out the official documents and gave her credit card number so duties and taxes were arranged smoothly. She felt relief as she pulled her suitcase from the enclosed area and stepped through the arrivals gate. Tara was tired, not physically but mentally, but at the same time she felt happy that her return trip ended without anything going wrong.

Tara knew that a long time would pass before she could see Ella again, but she was no longer worried. She would get to her car, leave the airport, pick up Morales the tattooed Mexican at the nearby McDonalds, and drive to Valentino's private clinic. There the underground doctors would remove the drug-filled bags from her tits and replace them with regular implants. This was a routine operation and could be performed using only local anesthesia. Small holes would be opened on the undersides of her boobs and through these the doctors would remove the shipment.

The operation would be the reverse of what had happened forty-eight hours ago in Rio de Janeiro. The small openings would heal in one or two days thanks to the use of the latest surgical techniques and special medication. Under normal circumstances, Tara would never have allowed such things to be done to her, even though the operations were fast and completely painless. Her body was everything she had, her only possession of any value. It was the one thing that made her life bearable and worth living. She knew that once her beauty vanished she would become worthless, so nothing was as important to her as keeping herself in shape.

The only other thing that mattered to her was Ella, the half-Philippine, half-Chinese girl who was Tara’s first and only true love. Letting these gangsters abuse her tits was against Tara’s wishes, not to mention emotionally distressing, but Tara had no choice. The men made it clear she had only two options: either she travel to Brazil on the bosses’ command, or Ella would be forced to perform in the dirtiest and most perverted porn movies ever recorded. They even hinted that some of these pornos could turn into horror films, the kind in which the heroine does not act, but suffers for real. Tara had no idea what all this meant, but she remembered clearly the fate of the Russian girl and quickly agreed to do as she was told. For Ella, Tara would offer her delectable boobs as drug containers.

Tara also was very aware that her relationship with Ella would last only as long as she was desirable and attractive.  As a result, her femininity was almost as important to her as appeasing the bosses. She was anxious to protect everything that made her a perfect, sexy doll: her hair, her face, her delicate nose, her healthy teeth, her figure, her round tits, her shaved and silky armpits, her long and feminine fingernails, her neat and pampered pubic area, her stretchable but tight vagina and asshole, her hairless and smooth legs, her soft soles and pedicured toes. These were hers, and for Ella, she would safeguard them for life. She adored all the details of her own perfection. Though she had proclaimed her devotion to Ella, Tara Janecek remained very much in love with her own beauty.

The elevator stopped at the parking garage's second level and Tara entered the dim landing. Normally she hated places like this. She had seen far too many horror movies showing what could happened to sexy, young women in such garages, but the relief she felt after clearing customs blew all her worries away. Even if she had known that several Miami street hookers recently had disappeared, that a bloody drug war was unfolding on the city's streets, and that one of Valentino's bars had been blown up only a week ago, Tara would have remained unconcerned. The only thing on her mind was getting rid of the drug shipment in her breasts, then hugging Ella and covering her lover's body with hot kisses.

Tara heard an engine humming far away, but the parking garage was otherwise abandoned.  No one else had been on the elevator, and only a handful of vehicles were awaiting their owners. Long term parking fees at the airport were high, so few people could afford to leave their vehicles there for days or weeks. Tara suddenly became aware of being very alone and vulnerable. She quickened her pace and walked briskly toward her car, her high heels clicking loudly on the cement floor.

Chapter II – Courier Ambush

Click clack click clack click clack click…  The sharp staccato of Tara’s heels on the concrete floor echoed through the garage, her pace increasing as she made her way to the north side of the level. The small rolling suitcase made a whirring noise as she pulled it along behind her. Tara rounded a corner and at last saw the 2-N marker which denoted the section where her car was parked.  Seconds later she spotted the white Volvo convertible, the one she had rented the previous Friday, and now one of only three vehicles in an almost deserted corner of the garage.

With her car in sight, Tara breathed a sigh of relief.  She cursed herself for becoming suddenly anxious for no reason other than being alone in a parking garage. How could she be so skittish?  After all, she had easily kept her cool while clearing customs, and that process had posed a far greater threat. No, her nervousness was just a delayed reaction.  The danger had passed.   In just a few minutes she would be on her way to Morales and her assignment would be complete. 

The car beeped as Tara pushed the autolock button on her key fob.  She reached down to open the trunk and pulled on the handle once, twice, three times, but it refused to lift.  “That’s odd,” she said to herself, remembering it had given her no problems earlier. She tried to insert the key into the lock, but was dismayed to find the mechanism covered with a hardened resin, probably dried glue. Was this some kind of prank – perhaps bored teens vandalizing her car?

This time, Tara quickly realized her fears were justified.  This was not a random act.  She had been targeted. As her panic grew, she fumbled to get the key into the driver’s side door, only to find it too had been jammed. “Fuck!” she said aloud.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”  She looked around the deserted garage. There was no one in sight.  This calmed her somewhat, but she knew she was far from safe.  Tara thought of breaking into the Volvo, but quickly abandoned that idea.  Instead, she decided to walk out of the garage, retracing her steps to the elevator.

It was then that she noticed the humming engine she heard earlier was still audible.  In fact, it sounded as if it were closer than it had been when she first became aware of it.  Her fear rising, she turned to walk in the opposite direction, away from the looming sound.

Still pulling her suitcase behind her, Tara followed the main ramp up to the garage’s third floor, which was even more deserted than the second.  She looked around desperately for an exit, then spotted the bright red elevator sign on the far side of the level.  Breaking into a sprint, she ran toward the elevator as fast as her awkward stilettos allowed.

Less than half-way across the level, Tara heard the screech of tires. She looked behind her just in time to see a menacing, black Camaro appear at the top of the ramp.  The car stopped, the driver apparently assessing how best to pursue his prey.  Tara did not wait to see what he would do next.  Leaving the rolling suitcase behind, she again started running, this time carelessly dashing toward the exit in sheer panic.  Less than fifty metres behind her, the Camaro began to pick up speed.  Her heart beat wildly as she heard it close in on her.

Running in spiked heels is an art, an almost acrobatic performance that requires years of experience. The body must adapt to the unnatural motion caused by the raised heels, the flexed soles and the stretched muscles along the legs. Like most erotic dancers, Tara had mastered wearing stiletto heeled shoes and boots to perform for her clients. After years of writhing and grinding on bare stages with stripper poles, Tara had developed her skills to a professional level. As a result, she did not fall once during her break-neck rush to escape the car, though her speed was still hampered by the precarious shoes. As she ran, Tara’s luscious buttocks cavorted enticingly, even though looking sexy was the furthest thing from her mind. She heard the car getting closer and closer but was far too terrified to look back.

Tara could not believe she reached the exit without being hit.  The driver had more than enough opportunity to catch up with her, but clearly had chosen not to run her down.  In shock, she realized whoever was pursuing her wanted her alive.  She turned to see the Camaro had stopped.  It was facing her, now less than fifteen metres away.  She tried to distinguish the driver, but the poor lighting in the garage undermined her efforts.

She couldn’t afford to hesitate, so Tara decided to use the stairs beside the elevator. She pushed on the door to the stairwell but it didn’t budge – it was either locked or obstructed on the other side.  The elevator was her only choice.  She pushed the down button and waited, praying that the driver of the Camaro was merely trying to scare her.

She was panting deeply, her heavy tits rising and falling rapidly as she breathed. Her fingers tapped nervously against the elevator doors as she gazed at the humming car, its dim lights reflected in the gloss of her shiny nails. Thump... Thump... Thump… She heard her own heart beating like a hammer. Who was in the hideous car? Who sent him and what did he want? What was he waiting for?  Despite the many questions popping up in Tara's mind, she knew she’d rather not have the answers. She just wanted to get out of the garage and find her bosses.

Tara knew little about the war on the streets. Valentino's gang never told her the details.  There were only the rumours she heard from her drunk clients. Mafia services and products, including drugs, gambling and prostitution were all highly profitable, and many organizations were competing to gain control over the lucrative Miami markets. The battle had steadily escalated, taking an ever-growing toll in human suffering and lives. Kidnappings, shootings and bombings were common, and proved to be very effective tools used by all those involved.

One of Tara’s regular johns, a well-dressed man who was a key player often told her about the serial killings in Miami. The man was handsome and wealthy, but still enjoyed terrifying Tara after he emptied his balls into her throat. He would spend twenty minutes forcing her to endure painfully rough blow jobs, before wiping the mess from her face, lighting a cigarette, then leaning back in his armchair to tell her a nasty story.

"They found this nigger whore on the shore,” he once told her, “dead like a microwaved kitten. I mean literally, her body was burnt to a crisp. But not her face... oh no, her killer made sure she was alive and conscious throughout her torture. The black bitch was the third executed that same way. The case did not get too much publicity, but insiders say all murders linked to the local Mafia wars are kept on the QT. Charming, isn't it?" He smiled, as he always did when telling his sadistic tales. The scary memory passed and Tara’s thoughts shifted back to the more frightening reality in the parking garage. Something was wrong, she thought... her palms did not feel any vibrations from behind the elevator doors.

Tara waited over a minute.  Could it be the elevator was broken or out of service?  It was almost as if the man in the car knew beforehand that she had no way to leave, cornering her until she was at his mercy.  If so, he clearly took delight in terrorizing his victim.  But Tara knew her dilemma involved more than just a random sadist out to frighten her.  She knew it had to be about the drug war.

With her back against the elevator, Tara watched helplessly as the car began slowly moving toward her.  Too late she realized it was not going to stop.  She darted to the side, but not quickly enough to get out of the way.  Though her left leg cleared the Camaro’s front fender, her right was pinned between the car’s bumper and the elevator doors. With two tons of steel pushing against it, Tara’s shin didn’t stand a chance.  There was a sickening snap as the bones of her shapely lower leg were fractured.  Blood ran from a ragged gash just below her knee.

When the pain hit her, it was beyond anything she could imagine. Tara screamed at the top of her lungs, letting out a long, ear shattering wail of anguish. Tara was used to screaming. It was part of her routine; having their whores cry out was what men liked when they were fucking them. But those screams, whether induced by pleasure or pain, were an act. This time it was different – the pain was real, powerful and all-consuming. Tara’s shriek of agony was authentic.  Unlike the feigned protests she made when having her nipples twisted, her ass slapped or her throat filled with thick-veined cocks, this was real pain. She screamed as long as air remained in her powerful lungs, then she fell onto the Camaro's hood, holding her weight up with her palms and arms. Her leg hurt like hell. Tears flowed down her face, washing away some of her eye shadow and drawing dark lines across her cheeks.

"Ohhhhhhhhh! Oh nooooo! Pleeeeease! Help meeee! somebody hellllp meee!" she cried loudly. Then Tara felt something hot flowing down her right calf. Blood! She was bleeding! Her pitiful sobs grew louder as she made a hopeless attempt to push the car away by pressing her hands against the hood – a desperate act by a desperate woman, and of course, a futile one.

After pinning Tara against the elevator doors, the driver shut off the engine, but did not immediately emerge from the vehicle.  Instead, he watched patiently from inside the car, enjoying the sight of the stunning blonde struggle desperately to free herself.  Tara was in obvious pain, but as her lithe body squirmed about, she put on an unintentionally erotic performance which had the man reaching between his legs to stroke his engorged cock.

Tara could see him now, at least from the chest up. He sat motionless at the wheel: short-cropped, dark hair and sharp, aquiline features; a narrow face with sunken cheekbones and deep-set eyes.  He had the look of an undertaker, which was strangely appropriate given the circumstances.  Was he there to kill her?  Did he know where the shipment of Blue Velvet was hidden?  Tara prayed that he didn’t.  Otherwise her fate was sealed – she would die gruesomely, alone and forlorn in this squalid, deserted parking garage.

Although Tara couldn't see clearly through her tear-filled eyes, the attacker seemed to be a man, perhaps even the devil himself. Instinctively, she knew he was someone who was sent to take her, to kill her, to finish her. "You bastaaaard!" she screamed and started to hammer the car's hood with her little fists. "You fucking bastard! You broke my leg, you broke my fucking leg!" she cried hysterically.

At last the driver emerged from the car.  He was rail thin, which oddly added to his threatening appearance. Fittingly, he wore a neatly pressed, black suit, as well as a pair of shiny black Florsheims. A shoulder holster was clearly visible under his open jacket. Tara was petrified. 

The man walked up to the trapped blonde, making no effort to help her.  “I’m sorry we have to meet under such, um… trying circumstances, but my instructions are quite clear.  Normally, I would prefer a more subtle approach, but I’m afraid Ms. Huang wanted you… how did she put it… categorically incapacitated.”  He looked down at Tara’s pinned, injured leg and shook his head.  “That does look painful, darling…”

"Fuck youuu!  Fuck your fucking car and your fucking Ms. Huang or whoever that fucking bitch is!"  Tara spat out the words, sobbing and gasping in misery. She wanted to show her strength, but the pain in her leg and the terror in her heart made her taunts and curses sound empty and pathetic.

“But where are my manners?” The man’s voice was calm and unexpectedly cordial.  “My name’s Nazar, like the Turkish evil eye.  And unless I have made a terrible mistake, you must be Ms. Janecek… Tara Janecek, right?  I must say, you are even lovelier in person than the pictures I was given.”

Tara couldn't believe her ears. She hardly was expecting a man of such smooth manners and prim gestures. She had grown used to the Valentino boys, who were invariably rough and uncouth bastards. This man was different.  Still, her terrible situation and her extreme pain made it clear that despite his refined air, Nazar was not there to treat her kindly. 'You will die. He will kill you!' were the thoughts racing through her mind as she listened to him. Tara’s anger grew.

"You shit-eating Arabian asshole!" She continued to curse unconvincingly using the most insulting words she could think of.  Tara knew nothing of the differences between Turkish and Arabian cultures, but figured she would cover as much ground as possible. "Fuck your mother but before fucking her, let me have a goooo!" she cried and grimaced as another bolt of pain hit her leg.

“I can’t really blame you for being angry, my dear.  But I suggest you take that anger out on the woman who hired me.  She is the one who wanted you brought in.  As to why, well I would imagine you already know the answer to that question.” Despite her pain, Tara was somewhat relieved to find out she was being captured rather than killed on the spot.  Although she now knew someone had targeted her because of the shipment, it seemed they did not know how the drugs had been smuggled into the country.  Otherwise, she was sure Nazar would simply kill her and bring back her dead body.

"Then why don't you fucking let me free? This hurts… you have no idea how much my leg hurts!" she replied, trying to sound less enraged. She gazed wide-eyed at Nazar, unsuccessfully trying to gain his sympathy.

“All in good time, my dear.  At the moment, it is much more convenient for me that you remain just as you are.  It’s not my job to find the goods – for all I know you’ve got Blue Velvet filled condoms in your gut, or maybe you stuffed the shit up your snatch, or passed it to someone else on your way here. Doesn’t matter to me.  All I have to do is bring you back alive so the Dragon Lady can get what she wants.”  Nazar chuckled.  “But before I do that, I think I’ll indulge in some of the fringe benefits of this assignment.”

Nazar’s gaze roamed over Tara’s curvaceous body and his eyes widened with lust.  She knew the look well – it was no different than the unabashed stares she received from the majority of men who admired her stunning figure.  This time, however, male attention was the last thing she wanted, especially from this lugubrious hired killer. 

Nazar ran his hand along the plunging neckline of Tara’s dress, his fingers pressing against the soft sides of her deep cleavage.  “That’s a nice pair, Tara.  I’m sure you won’t mind if I help myself.”  Tara’s heart skipped a beat.  Did he know about her implants?  Was he testing her to see if she would panic, or was he, like so many others, just interested in playing with her tits?  She forced herself to keep her cool.

Nazar was standing next to Tara, close enough for her to spit in his face... or to claw his cheek or gouge out his eyes. All those options ran through her mind, but she decided not to attack him. The man was obviously interested in her – almost every man was – yet that was the only thing she had to her advantage. Her only weapon, as always, was her body.

"I do mind,” Tara said at last. “Leave me alone. Of course I’ve got a nice pair! Better than the goats' udders your people usually play with, aren’t they?" She tried to tempt him, to sound less insulting. Tara wanted to make Nazar angry, to make him rape her. She was a whore anyway; she fucked anybody who was sent to her by her bosses. One more cock in her body did not mean anything to her. She hoped that if he assaulted her, the man would make a mistake, something that would give her a chance to escape. Her body became the decoy. Being raped might give her the edge she needed. But that would depend on Nazar being careless, and Tara had already seen that he had exceptional self-control.  After all, he did not seem even slightly bothered by her verbal abuse.

“A woman with a body like yours must be used to guys taking advantage.”  Nazar grinned.  Tara breathed a sigh of relief.  Either he didn’t know, or he didn’t care.  In any case, he seemed far more interested in exploring her soft curves than looking for contraband. She hardly blinked when her tormentor pulled apart the top of her dress, tearing the neckline almost to her crotch.  Her perfect, braless breasts exploded into view. Nazar wasted little time pawing them, roughly kneading the drug-filled implants.

Tara tried to push the man away, but being far stronger than she was, he easily resisted her efforts by thrusting his full weight against her.  Tara’s nipples hardened and she moaned disgustedly.   The pain in her leg surged as her body was twisted sideways.  Nazar unzipped his fly and began rubbing his rock-hard penis over the soft material of her dress.

And that was the time Tara decided to attack – she was in far too much pain to play along while being raped. Her plan was simple: with her left arm free, she would reach under Nazar’s jacket, get his gun and shoot him in the head. Unfortunately for Tara, Nazar was a professional, and expected her to do just that. As soon as she reached his chest, he released his cock and grabbed Tara's wrist. He twisted it until her arm went numb, making the girl moan in pain.

"Stupid, stupid little kitty." The man smiled as he pulled up Tara’s arms. He easily overpowered the struggling girl and with one hand pressed her wrists together high above her head. Tara's mascara smeared face and teary eyes made her look sluttier than ever. Holding his rock hard cock with his free hand, Nazar stepped onto the car bumper and presented his prick to Tara at eye level. The girl struggled weakly, but realizing she had lost the fight, she resigned herself to the inevitable. Without the use of her hands, she had no chance to escape.

Tara gazed at the erect cock. It was a 20 centimetre, completely smooth rod of meat. Both she and Nazar knew what was coming. Tara quickly abandoned any thought of biting the man's member. She could do it of course – she could easily sink her teeth deep into that circumcised, tumescent barrel of flesh, but the consequences of doing so would be extremely grave. Nazar, would likely change his mind about keeping her alive. Destroying his manhood would surely lead to a most brutal death for the poor blonde, and perhaps even worse.

Instead, she chose to let him have his way with her, just as she had so many others in the past – but not before uttering one last expletive to voice her disgust. "Fuck you..." she whispered and opened her mouth.

It started slowly, with Nazar enjoying every second as he let his penis explore her oral cavity. A little to the left, a little to the right, forcing Tara's cheeks to bulge as his cock head pressed against her flesh. She was well trained, a prostitute who performed this act a thousand times over the past two years. Her gums reflexively produced saliva for lubrication, leaving Nazar to revel in the heavenly warmth of her wet and slippery mouth sucking his stiff prick.

After she first arrived in the United States, Tara had to learn how to give proper blowjobs, even to the most well endowed clients. She remembered a day when she was forced to give head over fifty times. It was in the backroom of a popular club run by Valentino. Almost two dozen drunk and drugged guests, all eager volunteers, were invited into the room for free blowjobs. Each one rated Tara's efforts on a scale, and after every poor performance she was shocked with an electric prod. That was the first and last time her bosses needed to use force on her, as Tara quickly learned how to meet her customers’ expectations.

Being so experienced, she easily accepted Nazar’s giant tool as it slid into her throat. The tip of his cock tickled the base of her tongue and forced its way past her tonsils. Instinctively, Tara retched. Under normal circumstances she would have controlled her gag reflex, but with a fracture leg, and under the terrifying threat of death, her skills were a little rusty.

Nazar wanted to take his time, but realized there was more work to do.  A few minutes of pleasure was all he could afford, so he wickedly fucked Tara's face, pulling his cock across Tara's tongue with every push. With each long thrust, wet, gurgling sounds rose up from Tara's throat. More tears flowed across her cheeks, making a sad mess of her carefully applied make-up. Her bloodshot eyes rolled back as she fought for air after every withdrawal.

Nazar quickened his pace, rhythmically stroking back and forth, cramming his thick member down Tara’s throat again and again.  Without warning he shot his load deep into the girl's esophagus, pushing the base of his dick against her lips and banging the back of her head against the elevator doors. Nazar took half a minute to empty his balls into the Tara. Her eyes opened wide as her oxygen supply was blocked. She started to tremble, her cheeks pulsating like bellows. Finally he finished coming and yanked his cock out of her mouth. Tara’s breath rattled loudly, and the hapless blonde gasped desperately as she sucked in lungfuls of air.

Once he had ejaculated, Nazar stepped away from Tara who, overcome by nausea, leaned over the car’s hood and retched. Viciously grabbing her by the hair, Nazar pulled her upright then smashed her head into the puddle of puke she had spewed on the Camaro’s shiny surface. 

“Fucking slut! I’ll teach you not to hurl on my car!”  Nazar yanked Tara up and slammed her head against the hood a half dozen times.  When he stopped, she stood in a daze, her lovely face flecked with her own vomit.  Not satisfied that this was sufficient punishment, Nazar drove his fist into Tara’s abdomen, causing her to double over.  Again he used her blonde tresses to pull her up.  He watched as her eyes glazed over, then released her hair. Tara tottered briefly before collapsing unconscious over the hood of the Camaro.  Nazar checked her pulse to make sure she was still alive, then stepped back into the car.

He started the engine, shifted into reverse and slowly backed a few feet from the elevator before stopping.  Tara’s limp body slid off the hood and fell sprawling on the concrete floor.  Nazar got out to examine his captive.  Her broken leg was twisted and blood continued to flow from the gash below her knee.  He tore a strip of cloth from Tara’s dress and used it as a bandage to stem the bleeding.

Despite being roughed up and injured, the busty blonde still looked gorgeous.  Seeing her splayed on her back, her artificial tits partly exposed under her torn outfit, it was all Nazar could do to keep from ravishing her a second time. Her delicate, well manicured feet were still encased in the sexy stiletto heels.  Nazar nodded approvingly.  His employer would be most pleased when he returned with this fine specimen.

He rolled Tara prostrate, then tightly bound her hands behind her back. To ensure she didn’t come around unexpectedly, Nazar retrieved a pre-filled syringe from his kit bag and injected a knock-out drug into her left breast. He picked up her body and dumped it into the trunk of the Camaro where it landed with a loud thud. Finally, he retrieved the rolling suitcase from where Tara had abandoned it and placed it next to her.  He didn’t think Tara would be so stupid as to smuggle drugs in her luggage, but his instructions were to return everything she had with her.

Nazar slammed the trunk lid closed and started the car.  He drove away from the airport and headed for the warehouse at Coral Gables, just off Highway 1.  He wasn’t sure exactly what was in store for the exquisite blonde, but he knew it would not be pleasant.  In fact, given what he knew of the relentless Alexandra Huang, the fast rising Dragon Lady of the Coronado mob, he would not wish Tara’s fate on his worst enemy.

Chapter III – At the Warehouse

Brandy Fang dropped his cigarette and stepped on the glowing butt. It was a pleasant, warm night, the perfect evening for an all night long party with his buddies and a group of willing whores. Unfortunately, there would be no such party for Brandy this evening; he was at work, guarding the top of an old, derelict warehouse between downtown and South Miami Heights. It was not the most exciting job, but that was okay with him.  The lack of trouble meant he didn't have to fight, which also meant he wasn’t at risk himself. Nonetheless, Brandy was a trained soldier – not in the military, but privately employed. He enjoyed his work – aggression was in his nature – but on a warm night like this, he was just as happy to relax.

The top of the warehouse was covered with tar which still radiated the heat it had soaked up during the scorching daylight hours.  The roof was a bit dirty, but otherwise made a comfortable surface to lie on. Brandy had recently smoked a joint mixed with a little crack, and now he craved for some carefree rest. Yet even in his drugged state, Brandy was aware of what was going on that night – what his boss was up to.

His boss was one of his own kind, someone whose ancestors came from the same place as his. Brandy’s family name was Fang, which in Chinese means power. But due to the unique shape of his cuspids, his name also suited his teeth. His parents did not have money for orthodontic treatments, so Brandy had acquired a set of predatory fangs which he put to good use to intimidate, and sometimes attack his foes.

Brandy was born and grew up in the US, and had never been to China.  He did not even speak any of the languages of his homeland, but he felt good to be working for someone who shared his heritage. Nonetheless, like many others, Brandy was quick to admit that he feared his current boss, the witch who was known as the Dragon Lady, or more properly, Alexandra Huang.

No one knew what Alexandra had done before joining the Coronado mob, but it was rumoured she had worked on several continents before coming to North America. She had already built numerous connections to international crime organizations before arriving in Miami two years ago, and she was thought to have the support of some key players in China.  All in all, it was no wonder Alexandra Huang had risen as quickly as she had. The Dragon Lady was extremely smart, but also was known to be cold and brutally sadistic.  She possessed all the abilities needed to succeed in a crime syndicate and she worked only with the best professionals, a fact which made Brandy proud to be among her inner circle.

From his post, Brandy gazed over the silent and gloomy industrial district to the city skyline which flashed brightly in the distance. Around him, less than thirty percent of the street lights were functioning.  A few minutes before eleven PM, he glimpsed the headlights of an approaching car. Brandy raised his weapon – a brand new Heckler & Koch machine gun – and kneeled at the edge of the warehouse roof.  The car was expected, and everything appeared fine, but he was being paid to guard the place and was not taking any chances.

The Camaro rolled slowly toward the warehouse gates and came to a stop. Its headlights flashed: once, twice, three times. Larry and Jonas, who were securing the entrance, allowed the car to pass. It continued on to the building and soon disappeared from Brandy's sight. He had a good idea of what would happen inside the warehouse. The arrival of a lone car just before midnight usually meant some hapless loser would spend the evening enduring the wrath of Alexandra Huang.

What Brandy could not have guessed was that this time, the hapless loser was a stacked and stunningly beautiful woman – one whose inevitable ordeal would likely have been quite entertaining for the young guard.  But even if he had known this, Brandy would never dare leave his post. The Dragon Lady paid well – very well – but she did not tolerate negligence. Insubordination was unacceptable, and those who disobeyed orders were executed immediately.

*  *  *  *  *

Alexandra Huang was seated in a large, comfortable armchair not unlike a medieval throne. She had just got word from her men that Nazar had arrived.  He was right on time, as was expected of a professional, well-paid hit man. Using the portable computer on her lap, she finished the last sentence of an e-mail to Coronado and pressed the send button. She closed the notebook and handed it to Petra, her current playmate, who placed it on a nearby table and offered her mistress a small cup of steaming tea.  The Dragon Lady accepted the drink with a barely noticeable nod of thanks.

Quite a few other people, all men and all members of Alexandra's organization were in the cavernous warehouse that night. Two Chinese, her personal bodyguards and closest advisors, were standing next to her as always. Another dozen men were finishing preparations for what was to follow. Alexandra had chosen this warehouse as a centre of operations, though as was typical of those working underground, in time she would move elsewhere to avoid detection. Being mobile had become even more critical since the drug war had started.  The local groups, both Mafia and biker gangs, who had been in Miami long before Alexandra moved in on their turf were eager to see her out of the way – and were they to find her, even the Dragon Lady’s ruthlessness would not be enough to save her.

Unfortunately, one of her longest standing rivals, the dago Valentino had managed to strike a serious blow to her narcotics income by introducing Blue Velvet. The new drug spread quickly across the streets and bars of Miami, causing major headaches for Alexandra.  Profits from the traditional drugs she sold began to decrease, greatly reducing her share. Coronado, who had grown to depend on the drug revenues Alexandra provided, had voiced his displeasure and demanded that she fix the problem.

After three months and a heavy investment in time and money, Alexandra’s men uncovered Valentino’s smuggling operation and tracked down the source of the Blue Velvet shipments. A traitor in his organization gave her the name of one of his couriers as well as the courier's schedule. To deal with this woman, a whore from Valentino's stable of prostitutes, Alexandra was careful to select an appropriate team to assist in her capture and interrogation.  The men in the warehouse that night, even her two Chinese bodyguards, all shared Alexandra’s penchant for sadism. Yet unlike their boss, who was comfortable torturing members of either sex, they much preferred to vent their aggression on comely females.  All were well paid, but every one of these men would have performed the evening’s duties for free.

There were a few Latinos amongst Alexandra’s men, but except for the two Asians, most were either white or black. All were very well endowed. Psychology was an important aspect of interrogations, and Alexandra was a master of screwing information from uncooperative people. Psychology was also the perfect tool to intimidate her enemies. She intended not only to break the courier in order to learn about the Blue Velvet operation, but also to plant fear into the hearts of her rivals.

To that end, everything would be recorded.  In the middle of the warehouse, a large dirty mattress was already surrounded by several cameras. To protect their anonymity, Alexandra’s men wore black masks; even if their tattoos or scars were sometimes visible, their faces would remain concealed. Whatever was to happen that night, Alexandra would make sure as many of Valentino's people as possible would get to see it. Demoralizing the enemy had been key to Alexandra’s success, and she was not about to let this opportunity go to waste.

Biologically and genetically, Alexandra Huang may have been human, but her mind and soul were anything but.  She would easily have scared even the most experienced psychiatrists, for her life and training had left her devoid of normal emotions. She callously divided humankind into two main groups: those who didn’t matter to her, and those she hated. In the latter group were all her enemies, in the former was everyone else. In time, many of those who once did not matter joined the ranks of the hated, and when they entered this less favoured category, they rarely lived much longer.  Alexandra simply was not the forgiving type. In fact, she did not know anything about forgiveness. She was a machine, an organic terminator, albeit one who had physical needs – which included sex. And Alexandra was very sexual indeed; all of her male lovers agreed on that, even if none would ever dare say so aloud.

As always, Alexandra was attired in a most exquisite dress. It was similar to a traditional Chinese cheongsam, but considerably more decadent and revealing. Though bisexual, Alexandra did not allow her men to touch her in public – only her female pets were given that privilege – but she was keen to keep the men’s sexual excitement high because it made them more efficient and loyal. She ensured her male staff always got enough women and drugs, closely following Empress Cixi's well-proven methods.

In order to maintain the sexually charged atmosphere, Alexandra made sure to combine more than a hint of carnality with her elegant manner. As such, she invariably sported a loose, deep décolletage to expose slivers of her areolae and on occasion, completely reveal her large, permanently hard nipples. It was difficult to estimate Alexandra’s exact age – she was somewhere between 30 and 45 – but despite a few wrinkles around her eyes and on her hands, she was an enticing woman, an exotic, oriental beauty. She was thin, tall and possessed a perfect body. She changed her hairstyle every week, currently choosing to wear it shoulder length in a cut similar to the one made famous by Cleopatra.

Though she smiled often, Alexandra’s expression was cold and hard. Oddly, this critical gaze made her appear even more attractive – and dangerous – to the men around her. She had a dainty, slightly flattened nose and an impossibly long neck. Adorned with a dragon motif, Alexandra’s red dress was loosely done up at the front, immodestly exposing much of her chest and abdomen.  The outfit also left her arms bare, allowing her to flaunt an array of expensive wristlets. More jewellery, a half dozen shiny rings, adorned her fingers. Her long nails were painted a glistening shade of black. Of course, Alexandra had a preference for high heels, and as usual was wearing a pair this evening.

Given her cold, detached personality, Alexandra had never loved anyone, including herself. But despite being emotionally bereft, one feeling was not beyond her. Jealousy.  It was jealousy, and envy of other women, which frequently fuelled her hatred. Alexandra was slim and her curves, though more than feminine, were less developed than those of non-Asian women.  And so, the Dragon Lady, already possessed of racist tendencies, was simultaneously envious and angered by the sometimes extreme measurements of many white and black females. To suppress her feelings of inferiority, Alexandra hated bulging breasts and considered their bearers to be more like animals than humans. So deep was her jealousy that well-endowed women who crossed her even slightly – and some who otherwise did not offend her at all – were subject to cruelties beyond the torments she inflicted on her more modestly proportioned foes.

For this reason, all Alexandra’s pets, like blonde and pretty Petra, were never more busty than she was. The pets were used mostly for sex, which required Alexandra's sadistic side be kept in check. A week earlier, Alexandra had picked sexy, young Petra from one of her model agencies. The naive and simple girl knew little of her new patron and even less of what went on at the run-down warehouse. But she was a good lay, always willing in bed, and also quite charming – which was enough to please Alexandra... for now.

A child of poor parents, Petra became a low-paid photo model, and for her boss, a nice but otherwise disposable fuck toy. Alexandra didn't think Petra would be around for long. If she was able to accept the cruel and brutal world of her mistress, she could stay with Alexandra as a part of her “household”. Otherwise, she would be kept hooked on drugs and used as a whore, or simply eliminated. That decision would be made later. At the moment, Alexandra had more pressing matters to attend to.

A large garage door opened and the warm night air flooded inside. The Camaro’s headlights beamed into the warehouse as the car slowly rolled in, stopping about 10 metres from Alexandra’s chair.  The car was immediately surrounded by her men, their guns at the ready. As a contract professional, Nazar was not one of Alexandra's long-term employees, and even if had been, she wasn’t taking any risks. The Dragon Lady had learned not to trust anyone, and her own safety was her absolute first priority.

The car idled as the door to the warehouse closed behind it.  Eventually, Nazar cut the engine and stepped out smiling despite the weapons pointed at him. The precautions were unnecessary, and Alexandra was pleased to see Nazar’s confident attitude.  It meant he had been successful, and she would soon have the goods she lusted for.

“My dear Ms. Huang...” Nazar greeted her with exaggerated warmth, as if they had been friends for years. He strode up to her and gently shook her hand. Alexandra smiled, then craned her neck to look past him and inside the car.  Her expression grew worried as she saw it was empty.  “Do not fear,” he reassured her, “your shipment is securely locked in the trunk. One does not treat such trash to a luxury ride.”  He threw his keys to one of Alexandra’s masked men, who caught it with one hand.  Alexandra nodded, and he and two others set about removing the cargo.

At the same time, another of her men approached Nazar with a large valise.  He presented it to the hired killer, whose smile grew broader.  Nazar accepted the case without looking inside.

“Aren’t you going to count it?” Alexandra asked.

“Only a fool would short-change someone who kills for a living, and in the short time I’ve known you, I’ve learned you are anything but foolish.  I trust it is all here, and I thank you kindly for doing business with me.”

"My pleasure, assassin," Alexandra replied calmly. With her chair raised on a platform, she was able to stare directly into the eyes of the smooth-talking Turk. She motioned towards the men who had opened the car’s trunk and were removing the body of the unconscious female.

"Introduce me to my merchandise.  How did the abduction go?" she said as casually as if she were discussing the weather.

“The bitch offered little resistance,” Nazar replied. “She is no more than a stooge for Valentino, so she was an easy mark for me.  She does have a mouth on her, though, and she may not break as easily as you think. If you ask me, the little whore is too proud for her own good.”  Two of the men were dragging Tara’s limp body to the mattress by her shoulders, her hands still cuffed behind her back.  Alexandra commanded them to stop and hold the girl up for inspection.  Tara’s head lolled to one side and her broken leg dripped blood on the floor.

“Stupid cunt,” Alexandra said under her breath. She nodded, and the men threw Tara roughly onto the mattress.

“The important thing is that no one saw me grab her,” Nazar continued. “I did everything to ensure Valentino doesn’t know who’s behind the take-down. Normally, the dumb tramp would be expendable, and he wouldn’t give a shit what happened to her.  But with her knowledge of the Blue Velvet operation, she can cause him a lot of grief.”

"Yes. By this time, all the Valentino boys will be looking for this..." she stopped for a moment as she noticed Tara's physical attributes.  "...this cow.  I see you weren't very gentle with her."  As the disheveled blonde lay on the mattress, her cuts and bruises and her broken leg were more than apparent. But what most caught Alexandra’s attention were Tara’s big, bulbous breasts, both of which remained partially exposed by her badly torn dress.

Alexandra knew very well what kind of women were favoured in Western Countries – a lot of high class prostitutes, strippers and porn stars in America were built just like Tara. Every time Alexandra saw one of these bitches, it was as if she had been insulted, as if her femininity had been disparaged. And now, here was another one – captured and at her mercy. A smile crossed Alexandra's face; she knew she would enjoy the night’s activities.

She looked around the warehouse. Scattered among the shelves, palettes and storage boxes were the devices which had helped build her reputation as a formidable interrogator, someone who could break any man... and any woman. There was an old fashioned iron maiden, complete with body puncturing spikes, a transparent plastic cylinder with acid injector tubes, a glass walled incinerator, and much, much more. She focused her attention back on the Turk.

Nazar replied somewhat sheepishly.  “Yeah... sorry about her condition, but it couldn’t be helped,” he lied.  “I had to incapacitate her when she made a break for it.  She’s got a gash and a busted right leg, but other than that and some bruises and torn clothing, she’s fine.”

"Good enough. I don’t care if she can’t dance, so long as she can still talk. Nice job... I appreciate your work. Please, refresh yourself and stay a while. The kickoff was yours but the rest of the game is ahead of us. You may as well stay and enjoy it."  Alexandra whispered something to Petra, who immediately jumped to Nazar’s side and gave him a strange, forced smile. The blonde pet still did not realize what was going on, but the arrival of the bleeding girl obviously made her nervous.

Alexandra’s hushed instructions to Petra did not go unnoticed by Nazar, who instinctively understood she was being loaned to him as a temporary escort. Though very possessive when it came to her wealth and her men, Alexandra generously shared her playthings with those she wished to keep under her influence.  Nazar had performed well, and it was customary for the boss to reward good work. But more importantly, he could easily betray her to Valentino, so she had to ensure he would remain loyal.  And while Petra’s skills were somewhat limited, she was an expert at establishing a man’s loyalty.  Besides, Alexandra would be far too busy attending to her latest acquisition to play with her pet.

"This way, sir." Petra led Nazar toward a large couch, one which was out of the range of the cameras, and offered him a whiskey. Her red painted finger nails shook visibly as Nazar took the glass and sat down. Petra had eagerly become the lover of the strange Chinese woman who ran the modeling agencies. She wanted only to get her career off the ground, but the seedy warehouse, the masked men with their weapons, and now this evil-looking Turk with the busty, battered blonde all combined to confirm her suspicions. She knew that Alexandra was a mob boss and that her business involved criminal activities, but until today she didn’t realize how brutal and deadly that business could be.

"If you need anything else... just let me know." she stammered nervously.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Nazar chuckled.  “I’m not the least bit shy about expressing my, um... needs.”  He settled back on the couch, making it clear that he expected Petra to pleasure him as the night’s proceedings progressed. “I’m not sure what’s in store for the poor slut I brought here, but I know it’s going to turn me on something fierce, and I’m sure you can make that experience a lot more... memorable.”  Nazar laughed and unzipped his trousers.  Petra sighed.  As much as she feared the evil intentions of her supposed comrades, the thought of servicing this uncouth, smelly Turk revolted her even more.

Petra was a sweet, little thing indeed, not much more than twenty years old. She was a natural blond with long hair and charming blue eyes, moderately tall and slender with kissable lips accented by a charming mole just above them. She was not a total knock-out, but still cut a nice figure in her elegant magenta dress which covered her long legs to mid- thigh. Petra certainly seemed to appeal to Nazar, whose gaze shamelessly roamed over her face and body. He made Petra uncomfortable, but she knew she was there to please him, so she did not object. Suddenly, Alexandra clapped her hands, and to Petra’s relief, Nazar’s attention was momentarily diverted from her.

"Okay boys, let's begin by softening up this cunt. Inject her with some stimulants and let’s start the show.  You all know what needs to be done first. And remember, the video of this performance will be sent to our enemies all over the city, so I want to see a REALLY hardcore gangbang. Do your best... which means do your worst... to her," she pointed at Tara and laughed with a chilling cheerfulness. "First, work her over for an hour or so, then we can start with the actual interrogation."  Alexandra sat back to enjoy the performance, but not before noticing  Petra's face grow pale with terror. “Weakling,” she murmured quietly to herself.  “There’s not much hope for you either.”

Chapter IV – Gangbanged

Tara knew all about rape. Abused as a child by her alcoholic father, she had been repeatedly assaulted in her teens by her town’s leather-clad bully boys, who just couldn’t get enough of Tara’s enticing young body. Long before she even thought to have cosmetic surgery, she had developed into a pulchritudinous prize sought after by virtually all the young men in her neighborhood.  Most everyone agreed her beauty was a gift of nature, but for Tara, it was also a curse.

Though she tried to remain chaste, her suitors could not resist her charms, and what they could not get with flowers and wine, they simply took by force. Until she left Europe, rarely did a month go by without Tara finding herself savagely stripped and penetrated by some lust-struck teenager.  On arriving in America, her new life as a whore made rape a part of her daily routine.  Few of her clients were gentle, and many made her play the part of a victim, even if she reluctantly had agreed to let them fuck her.  Not surprisingly, over time, the once innocent, small-town girl had become a sex-obsessed slut who could no longer distinguish between making love and being forcibly ravished.  It was all the same to her.

But tonight, things would be different for Tara.  What Alexandra had in store for her would go far beyond the date rapes and the brief, back-alley assaults of her youth.  And unlike the beatings and humiliation she was forced to endure as a hooker, her treatment in the warehouse would earn her nothing but pain and anguish.  Alexandra knew the best way to prepare a woman for interrogation, to soften her up, was to first destroy her sexually.  Once a sustained attack on her womanhood had completely crushed her spirit, the tortures which followed would be all the more effective.  And so, poor Tara was about to experience sexual defilement which went far beyond the abuse she had learned to accept in the past.

But first, the ill-fated blonde had to be brought to consciousness.  One of the men, a hulking, shirtless Swede, approached the girl on the mattress carrying an oversized syringe.  Its needle was over twice the size of a standard hypodermic, and it was filled with Dextro-Meth, a powerful stimulant. Tara lay on her back, her cuffed arms twisted awkwardly behind her. Her large, partially exposed bosom thrust upward, presenting a most enticing target to the beefy Swede.  He bent over her and plunged the needle into her right breast, burying it to the hilt before injecting all of the drug into the soft tissue.  Somehow, the injection missed the Blue Velvet filled implant and the stimulant quickly coursed through her blood stream.

Within seconds, Tara let out a low, almost orgasmic moan. Reflexively, she stretched out her legs, unconsciously parting them as if preparing to accept the advances of one of her clients.  Her dress rode up her thighs, exposing just a hint of her tiny black thong. Tara’s sensual writhing on the mattress as she slowly came to had all of Alexandra’s men, and even the Dragon Lady herself growing more and more aroused. It was as if their captive were entertaining them with an involuntary sex show – foreplay for the violence to come.

It took several minutes for the stimulant to take full effect, but once it did Tara revived with a start.  Her eyes flickered open and her slow squirming turned to frantic struggles.  She had no idea where she was, and of the many people in the cavernous warehouse, she recognized only Nazar.  Remembering what he had done to her, and realizing she was restrained, helpless and outnumbered, she whimpered fearfully. Though she was afraid of the answers, Tara summoned enough strength to ask some questions.  Seeing the imposing Dragon Lady on her throne, she could tell that this Asian woman was the one she needed to address.

"Mmmmm... Miss... Dragonfly," she stammered, incorrectly remembering the name Nazar had mentioned earlier.  Her head needed a few seconds to clear as the stimulant slowly took full effect. Tara focused on the woman, the beautiful but icy-eyed oriental queen sitting on her throne just a few meters away. She tried to ignore the dozen muscular males with their thick biceps and bulging trousers. As an experienced hooker, Tara easily sensed the men’s arousal, felt their eyes drinking in the lithe curves of her partially exposed body. Tara knew what they were thinking, that they were wild dogs with raging hard-ons ready to impale her and tear her to pieces.

"Miss Dragon Lady," she remembered the right name, but remained naively unaware that no one dared call Alexandra by that moniker. "I'm... what is this place? Why am I here? What do you want to do with me?" she asked one question after another, her voice squeaking in terror. Her throat was dry and her injured leg radiated pain. Tears flowed down her face, making a mess of her mascara.

Alexandra did not want to reveal everything to her victim, at least not yet.  But she saw no harm in providing her with enough information to increase her anxiety.  She wanted the hapless blonde to realize that what was in store for her would be extremely unpleasant.

"You and your bosses are fucking things up for me, cow. And since I really hate when somebody spits into my soup, we brought you here for a nice little chit-chat. We will start that soon enough, but first my boys are going to have a bit of fun with you. I’m sure a well-used whore like you would expect nothing less form such fine specimens.  And don't fool yourself, honey pie.  No matter how loose your cunt and ass are, these guys are big enough to stuff your holes until it REALLY hurts!" Alexandra spoke with a patrician English accent, carefully pronouncing her evil threats as a wicked smile spread across her face.

Tara felt as if she had been punched in the gut.  She had always known she was in a risky profession, and that the drug smuggling had increased those risks. But this… this was far worse than anything she had imagined. She was powerless and broken, at the mercy of this psychotic Chinese woman and over a dozen men.  What did they want?  It had to be about the drugs, she thought, but what could she tell them?  Tara knew so little that she felt it best not to say anything at all – especially the one thing she did know: that the shipment was hidden inside her tits.

Instead, she decided to play tough. To act as if she had been wrongly targeted for whatever these people were after.  She convinced herself that Alexandra was just bluffing, so she decided to call that bluff.  Tara’s leg hurt like hell, and she was so terrified she could barely contain her bladder, but she somehow found the strength to talk back, to lash out at this heinous bitch who had the audacity to abduct her.

"You’re making a fucking big mistake!" she shouted. "I’ve got nothing to do with you.  You and that stupid bloodhound who nabbed me screwed up. I strongly recommend you let me go immediately, or you will be in fucking big trouble, bitch!" Tara tried to sound angry and fearless, but as she spat the word 'bitch', it sounded rather weak, more comical than threatening.

Alexandra laughed uproariously. “You stupid slut.  You have the gall to threaten me?  Fine… make it worse for yourself.  I suspect you already know why you’re here, and in case you’re so dumb that you don’t, I promise you it will become very apparent later.  But for now, I want you to realize that I’m not fucking around.  This is real. And you will soon learn that there is nothing – absolutely nothing – I won’t do to get what I want.”

Tara quivered, but tried to maintain her false bravado. Foolishly, she continued to lashed out at her evil tormentor.

"Are you deaf, you Chink monkey? You’ve got the wrong girl. If you don't let me go right now my friends will come after you and tear open your cunt.  They’ll slice your tits apart, cut off your fucking head and shit down your throat!" The blonde vainly used the tough talk she had learned from Valentino’s ethnic whores.  It had no effect on Alexandra, and served more to amuse her rather than instil fear.  Her men had to suppress their laughter, as any sign that Tara’s insults mocked the Dragon Lady could have had lethal consequences.

“Okay, elephant-jugs, that tears it.”  Alexandra had had enough.  “Let this blonde bitch’s suffering begin.”  She signaled the two Asian bodyguards who manned the cameras and began filming the action. Then she pointed at the Swede, who remained standing next to the supine girl. “Lars… you first.”

Lars flashed a wide smile which was visible through his mask, revealing an inordinate number of gleaming white teeth. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Tara’s dress where the torn material gathered below her midsection. He pulled up, causing the girl to arch backwards as she was lifted off the mattress by her outfit. With his biceps bulging, Lars shook Tara up and down, forcing her body to lurch about like a broken doll.  After a half dozen jerks, her dress ripped apart, freeing Tara, who fell back to the mattress almost naked. She let out a cry of pain as her broken leg absorbed the brunt of the impact.

Lars tossed aside the shredded remains of her dress and took a moment to admire Tara’s flawless curves.  Her breasts were now fully visible, rising like near-perfect globes of flesh the way enhanced tits always do.  Her torso tapered inward to an unbelievable tiny waste of no more than twenty-three inches, then flared outward just as suddenly to trim, but still very feminine hips.  And then there were her legs: long, lean and screaming for male attention. The entire, perfect package was covered with smooth, lightly tanned skin which gleamed enticingly as Tara perspired.

Aside from her heels, all she wore now was a filmy thong which barely covered her pudenda.  In fact, the wispy tufts of her carefully trimmed pubic hair were completely exposed.  Lars reached down, and with one finger ripped away this last sliver of clothing, exposing Tara’s glistening vagina which to his surprise, sat naked on the shaven flesh of her lower pussy.  Any woman who keeps some pubes visible on top, but goes bald below is flaunting herself for just one reason, thought Lars. He unzipped his pants, and without even touching himself, let his engorged eight inch cock lunge into the open.

“Spread your legs, bitch,” he commanded.  Tara looked up at the masked Swede in horror, too frightened to respond.  Lars did not tell her again.  Instead, he kicked his right foot directly into her groin, burying the toe of his boot several inches in her snatch. Tara yelped, and instinctively pulled her thighs apart. She knew these men would rape her.  It was exactly what the Dragon Lady had threatened.  But Tara had been raped before, so how could this be any worse? In mere seconds, she found out.

"Aoooohhhhhhhhh! Fuck you... you animaaaaal, that hurts!" she shrieked in a high pitched voice as Lars’ impressive manhood completely penetrated her slit with a single thrust. Her pain and terror, together with the stimulant had left Tara’s vagina much drier than usual, making the assault of the oversized cock extremely rough and brutal.  She felt the rock-hard pole scratch along her vaginal wall, stripping away the lining and exposing the raw flesh underneath. As a whore, Tara fucked almost every day of her life, but few of her clients had such a massive member. She was used to more modest dicks spearing her moist cunt, not being chafed in such an extreme manner. Unconcerned with his victim’s discomfort, the Swede began to pump like a machine – an organic piston pulling and pushing his cock in and out of her dry, parched pussy.

The assault seemed to go on for hours, but in fact Lars had spewed his come inside her in less than ten minutes. The viciousness of his thrusting, had pushed Tara completely off the mattress, and with her arms cuffed behind her, she could offer no resistance at all.  Her broken leg had been twisted about throughout the ordeal, and now was causing her twice the pain it had earlier.  It was bleeding, and though she could not see it, so was her vagina.  A satisfied and still grinning Lars walked away, pleased with his performance.

Without a word, Alexandra pointed to the next man to take Tara.  Jim was a black stud, even bigger than the robust Swede who had preceded him.  Sloppy seconds, he thought to himself, but he had to admit this likely was going to be the best looking piece he would ever get without paying for it.  Better still, he was getting money to do her.  Unlike Lars, he pulled down his pants and jumped on Tara completely naked.  She screamed as he landed on top of her, forcing her legs apart, and not bothering to pull her back onto the mattress.

"Ohh nooooo! You dirty nigger... noooo!" The blonde screamed as the man’s hideous penis found its way into her aching slit. As the shiny, ebony rod slid inside her, it felt like she was being reamed with barbed wire. His prick was not only long but unnaturally thick, stretching her inner walls to their limits and making her feel as if her vagina was being ripped to pieces. His cockhead reached the end of her vaginal cavity and punched against her cervix, causing Tara to shake as if she were possessed by demons.  She lost her voice and her screams turned to barely audible gasps of agony. As her body writhed and spasmed, drool leaked from the corners of her mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head.

As Jim raped Tara, Nazar was becoming more and more aroused.  In his culture, black men never fucked white women, especially blondes.  Watching the sweaty, dark-skinned man defile the helpless girl, he could not help but grow hard himself.  Petra, who was casually stroking him, noticed the bulge in Nazar’s pants and instantly knew what she had to do.  It was not something she enjoyed, but if she disappointed her mistress, she knew the consequences would be grave indeed. Terrified by the sounds coming from the mattress behind her, she did not dare turn around to witness the savage rape. The repulsive noises already told her more than she wanted to know.

“Would you like me… to… “ she began meekly.

“Does the pope shit in the woods?” Nazar replied, mixing his metaphors.  Petra suppressed a giggle then got to work. Carefully manoeuvring her red-painted fingernails, she unzipped his pants then used her dainty hands to pull Nazar's already growing cock from his briefs. She expected his prick to be a dirty, smelly thing, but to her surprise the contents of Nazar's underwear proved to be clean. Of course, she had no idea that the hapless blonde he had captured had involuntarily washed it clean with her saliva just an hour ago. Petra was glad to see the cock was circumcised and she watched wide-eyed as it grew to its maximum size, its blue veins bulging. She was a model, not a whore, and even if she did suck the occasional cock to get the better paying jobs, she was far from being an experienced professional.

She spat onto Nazar’s penis, and used her index finger to spread the saliva all over it. She formed a cone with her fingers, placing the tips all around the head and playfully rolling her fingers over the exposed glans for half a minute. She forced herself to stare at the cock, trying to imagine that it was not the Turk's rod but that of a handsome young man. She also pretended the terrifying noises behind her were from a porn video instead of a brutal rape. The cock seemed to pulsate in her hands and became rock hard – an encouraging sign. This was the very first time that Alexandra had given her to a man, and although she had expected this to happen some day, she was not happy about it. Still, she understood that to please the Turk was to please Alexandra, and that gave her enough incentive to continue her job.

Petra lowered her head and formed an O with her lips, placing them around the head of Nazar’s prick. She reached out with her tongue and gently licked the opening at the cock’s tip, forcing her tongue into the slit while her hands gently massaged the man’s cock and the balls. She felt him begin to quiver and soon tasted the salty-sweet juice of Nazar's pre-cum. Instead of swallowing it she let it flow onto the head, then smeared it around with her tongue to further lubricate the shaft. Her nodding movements went deeper and deeper, but apparently not deep enough. She had never learned or used deep throat techniques and did not intend to do so now, even if Alexandra expected it.

Petra kept on pumping on the cock, sometimes letting it slide out of her mouth so she could lick the head  like an ice cream cone. With her free hand she continued to massage Nazar’s balls. Like a well-trained, obedient employee, she worked on the cock for over ten minutes before the Turk finally shot his load into her mouth.  She obligingly swallowed every drop before licking the slowly shrinking cock clean.

Although Petra had done her best to drain him, Nazar felt unsatisfied.  It wasn’t enough for him to experience just another slut-house orgasm.  He wanted to be in on the action.  He wanted to be like the big, black cocksman who was just now finishing up with the unfortunate Tara.  Like most of the others in the warehouse, Nazar enjoyed sex only if he could completely dominate, torture and crush his conquests.

Petra’s docile subservience might have suited most men, but it was not what the Turk enjoyed.  He looked at Alexandra’s blonde pet, wondering what he could do to her if she were completely in his power.  He sighed. The Dragon Lady would never allow her favorite out of her sight.  Then again… how long would this one be her favorite?  Alexandra was a flighty mistress and Petra would not be in her privileged position forever.  Some day, when her protector no longer cared for her, Nazar would make his move, and Petra would become his bitch… his victim… his corpse.

“Did I satisfy you?” Petra asked in her annoyingly gushing voice. 

“Yes, my dear.  You did well.” Nazar lied, and began imagining how he would make her life a living hell.

On the warehouse floor, Jim had finally finished with Tara, leaving the girl battered and fucked half to death.  Still on the concrete instead of the mattress, she was in more pain than ever, gasping for breath and moaning in agony.

By this point, the remaining men had stripped off their clothes and stood nude, hoping they would get their chance to fuck Tara sooner rather than later. Alexandra decided to speed up the proceedings by allowing three of them to ravage the girl at once.  Somewhat arbitrarily, the Dragon Lady pointed at those who caught her fancy, all of whom were more well-hung than average.  The trio would have preferred to have the blonde bitch to themselves, like Lars and Jim had, but they were in no position to argue.  After all, sharing the prize was better than no prize at all.

Tara looked up to see the three beefy males march toward her from several directions.  “Oh god… noooo!!” she wailed as they surrounded her.  More for their own comfort than that of the captive girl, they decided to enjoy their improvised foursome on the mattress. The tallest of the three, another well-muscled black man, grabbed Tara by the hair and roughly pulled her back on the filthy cushion. In seconds, the men had piled on top of her, each one plunging his massive member in the nearest orifice. Tara was barely visible under the squirming mass of naked flesh.

One man slid under her and pushed his dick up her ass. She screamed like a banshee as her sphincter was almost ruptured. Another man stepped over her face, grabbed her chin, then gouged his fingers into her jaws to force her mouth wide open. He held her by the hair with his other hand and forced his cock deep into Tara's throat. A third man kneeled between Tara's widespread legs and pushed his cock into her bleeding pussy with a brutal thrust. Only Tara's dangling legs, trembling arms, and clawing hands were visible as the three men viciously fucked all three of her holes. With her neck forced backward and one man’s meat filling her throat, Tara couldn't scream, or even groan.  Instead, she made pitiful squawking noises as her gag reflex pushed slime up her esophagus until it bubbled out of her nostrils. From time to time she ran out of air and sank her nails into the back of the man bent over her. The sudden pain only made him fuck her harder, and did nothing to help her breathing problems.

As the captive girl’s ordeal grew more intense, Petra noticed Nazar was paying more attention to Tara’s defilement than to her. His cock stood proud and erect again, but this time she had done nothing to assist it.  She knew it was the savage assault on Tara, rather than her feeble attempts at seduction which was arousing him.  And that meant Petra was not doing her job.  The occasional scowling glance from Alexandra told her as much.  Unless she did better to satisfy the evil Turk, she would suffer her mistress's wrath later. Spurred on by fear, Petra resolved to give Nazar what he wanted.

Ignoring the barbaric rape behind her, she undressed in front of Nazar, giving him a sexy smile while trying to hide the fear in her eyes. She was clearly worried that the performance she was giving would disappoint him.  Naked except for her slutty heels, she dropped to her knees in front of him and started to suck his cock a second time. Petra had a luscious body. She was tall with slender, attractive curves, and her tits were pert, sexy globes of natural flesh with small but perfectly shaped nipples. She was shaved completely clean because Alexandra demanded absolute smoothness, and so there was not a hair on her body below her eyelashes. Petra was hardly as perfectly formed as Tara – her boobs were less than half as large as those of the busty blonde captive – but she was still a classy and beautiful woman with an exceptional body.  And, for what it was worth, unlike the more voluptuous Tara, Petra was not being ravaged by a trio of Neanderthals.

Petra kept sucking for two minutes, then stood up, spun around and sat on Nazar's lap, letting him drive his cock into her glistening vagina. Unfortunately, by turning around, she could now see what was happening to poor Tara.  Petra closed her eyes and concentrated on how best to move herself up and down in order to stimulate Nazar. She was tight, she was young and she was surprisingly wholesome. She even emitted the sensual moans which implied she was enjoying the Turk’s efforts, though her bad acting made it obvious that her orgasmic sounds were fake. At last Nazar came again, shooting his seed into the girl's hot pussy, not because of Petra’s attempts to pleasure him, but because he had a clear view of Tara’s violation.

Petra had done her best, but it still was not enough.  Nazar threw her naked body to the floor and literally kicked her to the side. After five drinks, he no longer cared what his employer thought, and he was not afraid to show his own annoyance. Alexandra witnessed the scene and was not pleased with the blonde’s inability to satisfy the assassin. Petra crawled away and tried to hide behind Nazar’s couch. She wept silently, scared to death after failing to satisfy the guest of her mistress.

By contrast, the brutalization of Tara was going far better. She had endured the continuous onslaught of eleven of Alexandra’s men, sometimes three at a time, and none had shown her the slightest shred of mercy.  It was as if these brutes were ramming their giant dicks into a side of beef… albeit a particularly well-proportioned side of beef.

Tara lay on the mattress, naked and on her back, arms still cuffed behind her. Her legs were splayed wide, her vagina torn and bleeding and oozing cum. Her body glistened with a sheen of sweat and semen as she gasped like a beached fish.  The men had taken no notice of her injured leg, and as a result, it had become even more bloody and twisted than before.  It was clear that Tara's pain was overwhelming, but to Alexandra’s delight, her captive was still very much alive.

Yet before her interrogation could begin, Tara would have to service one more man. Alexandra had promised twelve of her recruits the privilege of participating in the girl’s gang rape, and she was not about to deny the last of them his reward.  His name was Ivan, a short Slavic man with a barrel chest and thick muscles to make up for his stature. She knew Ivan well; he had been with her a long time, and so she was aware of his idiosyncrasies when it came to having sex.

Ivan was a hypoxyphiliac, but one who preferred to practice his peculiar passion on his partners, not himself.  He enjoyed cutting off the air-supply of the women he screwed, ostensibly to heighten their orgasms as well as his own.  In the past, Ivan had taken his hobby a bit too far on more than one occasion, leading to the accidental demise of some of his ‘girlfriends’.  However, he knew well that killing Tara at this point would lead directly to his own execution.  He had been instructed to choke her to the brink of death, but no further.  He would be careful.  Unfortunately for her, Tara did not know this.

As the stout, masked man approached her, Tara begged him to be gentle.  But she knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears.  Why would he be any different?  Yet as she soon learned, Ivan was not like the others – he was far, far worse.

Ivan grabbed Tara by the hair and pulled her to her knees.  Like most of the rapists who had preceded him, he was nude, his cock easily becoming fully erect at the sight of the naked, busty blonde. To her horror, Tara saw his manhood extend to over ten inches.  It was easily the longest and thickest of the cocks that had penetrated her previously. Her eyes went wide as saucers as he aligned his engorged penis with her mouth.

“No… Noooo…  NOOOO…  gorprphlfff…”  Before she could protest further, Ivan had rammed his massive member into Tara’s mouth.  As she gasped for air, he thrust it in to the hilt, plunging his meat deep into the poor girl’s throat. With her hands useless and Ivan pulling her head forward by the hair, she was powerless to resist his brutal thrust.  She felt as if someone had rammed a ten inch long salami down her esophagus.

As if being forced to suck a huge cock was not sufficient torment for poor Tara, Ivan uncoiled a thin leather strap he had wrapped around his wrist. He let the two foot length of cord dangle above the girl, and she quickly surmised its purpose. Her eyes widened with alarm as the stocky Slav wrapped the strap around her neck, then tightened it by pulling the ends in opposite directions.

“Grrrk,” choked Tara before being rendered completely mute.  Her air supply, already minimal thanks to Ivan’s manhood being lodged in her throat, was completely cut off.  Unable to fight back or protest, Tara writhed about like a worm on a fish hook.  To the spectators, particularly Alexandra and Nazar, the blonde’s pathetic struggles were intensely erotic.  She looked as if she were in her death throes, naked, on her knees, and unwillingly giving this ugly brute a blow job as she slowly expired.  She wasn’t meant to die of course, only to feel that way.

In Tara’s mind, panic set in.  Her thoughts raced.  How could they kill her so soon?  Her captors had hardly asked her anything.  She had not even had a chance to confess or bargain for her life.  Was this all they wanted: a series of rapes followed by a savage, sex-fueled execution? No, she thought to herself desperately… it can’t be like this.  And yet, it certainly seemed that way.

Ivan grunted fiercely as his orgasm approached.  Tara’s head turned a sickening bluish color and her eyes bulged.  Her struggles grew more extreme, leaving her tormentor to pull even harder on the strap to keep her in place.  Then suddenly, he thrust back his head and bellowed as he came to a most obvious and powerful climax.  Deep inside Tara’s throat, a flood of semen erupted from Ivan’s cock, making her feel as if she were drowning in the thick, foul tasting liquid.

Ivan continued to thrust while pulling on the strap.  For Tara, who had been deprived of oxygen for almost two minutes, this ordeal had become too much.  Without thinking of the consequences, she reacted in the only way she could, making a last desperate attempt to stop this man from asphyxiating her to death.  With all her might, Tara bit down on Ivan’s cock.  He was so consumed with his own pleasure, that at first he barely noticed his victim’s retaliation.  Not until she had brought her teeth together for the third time did he realize he had been gravely wounded.  And by then it was too late.  As Ivan screamed and let go of the strap, Tara yanked her head to one side and completely severed his penis.

Both Tara and the Slav toppled to the ground, she gasping for air, he wailing in agony.  Blood was everywhere: on the mattress, all over the blonde’s face, but mainly spraying from the ragged hole in Ivan’s groin.  Tara gagged as she desperately tried to force the now considerably shrunken cock out of her mouth. But without the use of her hands, she was unable to do so.  Once she caught her breath, she lay still, trying not to think about the large wad of bloody, dead flesh stuck in her mouth. She was just grateful to be alive.

Overwhelmed with pain, Ivan tore off his mask and called out for help.  His comrades ran toward him, but seemed unsure of what to do.  They looked to Alexandra for guidance.  The Dragon Lady was shaking her head, obviously displeased with Ivan’s performance.  She waited for a moment, then gave her instructions.

“There is nothing you can do for him,” she said coldly.  “He foolishly pushed her too far, and this time, he will pay the consequences for his excessive behavior. Kill him, then bring the girl over to me.”  One of the men drew a gun and stuck the barrel in Ivan’ mouth.  Before the injured man could protest, a shot rang out and with a final death shudder, he expired on the mattress, blood still pouring freely from between his legs.  Two other men, both still naked and masked, picked Tara up by the shoulders and, holding her limp body between them, dragged her in front of their boss.

Alexandra rose from her throne-like chair and walked up to the girl. “I just knew you’d be trouble from the minute we targeted you. You stacked and skinny cocksuckers are all alike: not very smart, but somehow those oversized tits, that blonde hair, and those big, blue eyes turn any man’s brains to mush, and those with no self-control, like poor Ivan, don’t have a chance. Like a bull in a china shop, you’re too stupid to know what you’re doing, but I’ll bet somehow you manage to fuck things up wherever you go.”

Tara looked at Alexandra with pleading eyes.  She wanted to talk, to tell her she was wrong… that she was innocent and didn’t even know why she was being tortured.  But when Tara tried to speak, she only managed to chew Ivan’s severed cock, forcing more blood to spurt from her mouth.  Inadvertently, some of that blood splattered on Alexandra’s face and cleavage, causing her to become livid with rage. She plunged her fist into Tara’s abdomen, causing the blonde to double over despite the efforts of the two men who were holding her upright.

“You fucking cunt!” Alexandra was barely able to contain herself.  She wiped as much of the blood away as she could. “You did that on purpose!”  Tara shook her head, but it was clear Alexandra would not let this affront go unpunished. She pushed Tara’s jaws together and forced her to chew on the remnants of Ivan’s prick.  “Eat it bitch!  Chew it… swallow… or die!”

Fearing for her life, Tara obeyed.  She did not resist as the Dragon Lady moved her jaws up and down, forcing her to eat Ivan’s raw flesh. As Alexandra's nails cut into her jaws, blood squirted from between her lips and poured down her throat as the once tumescent meat of the Slav’s penis was slowly ground to a pulp between Tara’s teeth. Eventually, it broke apart into smaller pieces, which she gulped down while simultaneously gagging with each swallow.

When at last it was done, Tara began retching, puking up a few pieces of the man’s regurgitated meat.  But for the most part, Ivan’s masticated manhood was in her stomach, providing the necessary nutrients to sustain her through the nightmares to come.

“Now that your throat is no longer obstructed,” said Alexandra, “we can begin questioning you.”

“Why?” asked Tara, somewhat surprised that she could speak again. “I know nothing.”

“Come now, little slut… we both know you are lying.  You are a courier for Valentino and you are smuggling Blue Velvet into the States. All I want to know is how.  Tell me the details of your operation, and perhaps… perhaps I will let you live.”

“I don’t know what the hell you are talking about.” Tara lied bravely, but not very convincingly.  Alexandra laughed.  She had expected this after Nazar told her of Tara’s pride and stubbornness. At this point, had the blonde courier given in, Alexandra would have been a bit disappointed.  She liked a challenge. And even more, she liked to see gormless porn queens like Tara scream and suffer.  She was not worried in the least.  She knew Tara would reveal all she knew about the Blue Velvet operation.  But before she cracked, Tara would serve to entertain both Alexandra and her men.  After all, when it came to reaching a destination, getting there was half the fun.

“Prepare her for interrogation,” Alexandra commanded.

The two men turned and dragged the bare and broken blonde off to begin the next stage of her harrowing journey to oblivion.

Chapter V – Footlo(o)se

Following Alexandra's instructions, two men retrieved a massive wooden chair, sliding it from behind some stacked palettes on planks hammered into its legs. The men’s muscles bulged as they pushed the oversized chair into the middle of the room, positioning it in place of the mattress. It was high backed with long legs and horizontal armrests. In the middle of the seat, there was a privy-sized hole, and the seat itself could be raised or lowered. The area under the seat was double what one would normally expect.

The chair was completely made of dark wood, its surface rough and unrefined, its legs sturdy and almost as thick as those of a human. Almost two dozen leather straps were fastened along the chair’s armrest, back and legs.  Its wooden surface was covered in filth and blood, with numerous stains and smudges, mostly around the straps. Perhaps most disconcerting, the rim of the hole in the seat was darkly singed, as if it had been burned several times.

Tara's eyes widened with fear. After her brutal rape and Ivan’s cold-blooded murder, she expected more nastiness to follow, but this hideous, antique torture device sent a shiver up her spine. She was in a lot of pain, her fractured leg throbbing along with her distended ass and cunt. Blood dripped from both openings as well as from her earlier wounds, and her throat ached from having been savagely stretched by Ivan’s engorged member. She still tasted blood and raw flesh, and shuddered at the memory of having been forced to chew and swallow a freshly severed human cock. But even after enduring such a disgusting and humiliating ordeal, the sight of this chair made her tremble.

Once the chair was in place, the men wrestled the struggling girl into it. Her shapely buttocks, covered in semen and sweat, sank through the hole in the seat. To keep the naked blonde from falling through the aperture, one of the stronger men grabbed her hair and pulled her up while another secured a backrest strap around her waist. This prevented Tara from sinking through the opening.   Her calves were forced against the front legs of the chair and more straps were fastened around her shapely ankles, shins and knees. This kept her thighs spread, revealing her torn and bleeding vagina. The extreme pressure on her calves caused considerable pain, especially to her already injured right leg.

The chair was so high that Tara’s feet were several inches above the floor. She had lost one of her heels during the rape, so while one foot dangled uncovered, the other hung still attired in the remaining stiletto, the last piece of her original outfit still on her body. Tara’s wrists were uncuffed, only to be painfully strapped to the armrests. She let out another high-pitched whine as more bonds were tightened around her elbows.  Finally, a thin strip of leather was pulled around her neck, pinning her head against the backrest. The neck strap was not tight enough to block her air supply, but made lowering her head extremely painful

Alexandra walked in front of the girl and examined her captive. The bitch was a most provocative specimen. No matter how battered she appeared; no matter how much her makeup was mussed; she was still a titillating sex bomb. In fact, to a carnally driven sadist like Alexandra, the sight of the nude, sweat soaked beauty writhing in the chair as blood leaked from her wounds was enough to induce an orgasmic swoon. Alexandra bit her lower lip and enjoyed the sensual tingle in her loins.  She let out an almost inaudible moan, then quickly turned her attention to the business at hand.

"I know your kind, cunt -- you sluts don’t exactly have complex personalities. Instead, you spend all your time and energy keeping your body in perfect condition.  Perfect makeup, perfect jugs, perfectly trimmed cunt, perfect nails, perfect skin." She slowly walked around the chair, admiring her prey from all angles. Tara followed the Asian woman with her eyes as long as she could, but once Alexandra’s clicking heels stopped behind the chair, she could only sense her malevolent presence hover over her. Knowing this would intimidate her captive, Alexandra continued her monologue from where Tara could not see her.

"I will use an extremely simple but surprisingly effective method to make you tell me all I want to know. You will be interrogated, of that you can be sure, and the interrogation will focus on that which is most important to you: your body.  But do not fear... we will not begin by overwhelming you with torture.  That would be counterproductive. Instead, we will start with the less essential parts of your anatomy, those which can heal or be replaced. But if these measures do not encourage your cooperation, then we will move on to more oppressive techniques, ones so severe you cannot imagine the destruction they can cause a delicate creature like yourself.”  The Dragon Lady spoke in a cold, clinical tone, then used the long nail of her index finger to caress the nape of Tara’s neck. The terrified blonde trembled uncontrollably.

"You might be interested to know that interrogation is a hobby of mine, so I intend to perform much of your questioning myself. Once I begin, you should remember there is one important rule: I will not entertain any response from you until after each stage of your punishment is completed.  I like to finish what I have started – I suppose it is part of my anal nature – but it is also quite effective as it will make you think very carefully before I proceed with the next step in the procedure.  Remember, after each punishment, before I start the next, you will have a chance to reply to my questions. If I’m not satisfied with your answer, you will be forced to endure whatever follows until that too is finished.”  Alexandra moved around Tara so that she again stood in front of her.  She smiled as she saw the fear in the blonde’s eyes, her trembling lips and the sweat streaming from her brow, all of which betrayed Tara’s rising panic.  Alexandra’s calm, detached account of the interrogation had served its purpose.  Her victim was consumed by terror.

"I think we will start with a pedicure,” said Alexandra, bending down to inspect Tara’s supple and pampered feet.  Of course, what I have in mind is more painful than relaxing. The damage will not be all that severe, though you may need to switch to closed-toed shoes once we are through. After that, perhaps we will work on your fingers, or maybe we can play dentist. And if those games don’t loosen your tongue, there will still be much to work with: your cunt, your ass, your tits – and these are just the most obvious targets. What I like about this chair is that I have easy access to every part of your body.  There is nothing you can do to protect yourself." Alexandra’s smile grew broader; like that of a wolf savouring a freshly downed sheep.

"But I really don't know anything!  You must believe me!" Tara protested desperately, tears streaming from her eyes. Alexandra only shook her head slowly, then snapped her fingers.  Within seconds, one of her men arrived with a small, cushioned bench which he placed in front of Tara. Alexandra sat on it, opening her legs wide. She never wore thongs or panties, so her deliberately immodest position revealed her shaved pubic mound to anyone sitting across from her.  None of her men had the courage to squat down to take a peak, so only Tara was able to glimpse the Dragon Lady’s exposed sex.  Of course, this was Alexandra’s intent. It was just another way to confuse and intimidate her victim.

"As you might guess,” she said, holding up her hands, “I'm a big fan of sexy fingernails. Long, painted nails are an important part of my culture, even more than they are of yours. Nonetheless, I can see that you too understand a brightly coloured set of talons can be a most alluring asset." Alexandra moved her foot next to Tara’s, contrasting her long black nails to the bright red pedicure of the blonde.  She gently unstrapped Tara's remaining shoe and removed it from her dangling foot before tossing it away.

"Now I will show you how your nails can become much more than a thing of beauty... they can also be a source of indescribable pain." Alexandra smiled, this time almost warmly. The man who had brought the bench rolled a serving cart next to his boss. The cart’s tray was well stocked with a variety of hideous implements, including an assortment of pliers, forceps, tongs, scalpels, needles, pins, syringes, a set of matches, a small electric drill with variable tips, a propane torch and a small hammer. There was also a selection of small, glass vials containing sulphuric acid, chilli tincture and other nasty compounds.

Alexandra reached for Tara's left foot and began gently massaging it, playfully running her long nails along the sole until the blonde responded involuntarily to the tickling sensation.

"Do you have something to tell me about Valentino's Blue Velvet supply chain, dear?" Alexandra asked softly, her otherwise cold eyes betraying her true intentions. Tara shook in her bonds, the false bravado she displayed earlier long abandoned.  Yet she knew she could not reveal what little information she had.  The consequences would be far worse than the pain she faced at the hands of this Chinese sadist.

Tara was overwhelmed with dread.  Her mind raced as she finally grasped her dire predicament. 'Oh my God! This fucking bitch will do it! She will really do it! She wants to torture me! But if I speak I'm dead. I can't... I must keep the secret! My God, I have to be strong, for myself, for Ella! I love you Ella, please give me strength. It's only my foot, this can't be so bad! I hope this won't be so bad! I'm afraid, I'm so very afraid!'

"You’ve really got the wrong girl!" she said in a trembling voice, making one last, futile attempt to proclaim her innocence.

"As you wish. You are so fucking dumb, you blonde cunt.  But I don't mind. I love stupidity... it gives me an excuse to indulge in one of my favourite pastimes." Alexandra smiled and reached for the tray.

Tara watched in horror as the Dragon Lady selected a heavy pair of iron pliers and held them up for inspection. Their metal surface was dark grey and flecked with patches of rust.  Dried blood was visible on the jaws.  It was such a simple, seemingly harmless implement, but Tara knew it would soon become as menacing as a gun or a knife.  She shook her head and gasped out a feeble “No!”

As Alexandra moved the cold object along Tara’s bare leg, the girl quickly guessed what her first ordeal would be.  She was naïve about many things, but she was surprisingly knowledgeable when it came to torture. More times than she cared to remember, Valentino had his henchmen punish a disobedient slut as an example to the other whores. Tara knew the many ways common tools could be used to cause pain and death.  She had seen pliers used on some of the other girls so she was aware of the damage they could do to the more delicate parts of a woman’s anatomy… her tongue, her fingers, her nipples, her toes.

Sure enough, Alexandra slowly brought the tool down to Tara’s left foot.  Seconds later, the jaws closed around the glossy red nail of her little toe. Like any trained interrogator, Alexandra waited as her victim’s fear mounted. Tara felt the pressure of the pliers as they began to pull on the tiny nail; she braced herself for what she knew would soon follow.

Alexandra did not repeat her question to give Tara a final chance.  As promised, once a torture commenced, the hapless blonde would have to endure all of it before she was given another opportunity to comply.

And so, without a word of warning, the pitiless Asian woman ripped Tara’s toenail from its moorings.  It seemed like such a minor wound: a bit of squirting blood and torn flesh, but the intense screech that escaped Tara’s lips made the onlookers think one of her limbs had been hacked off. 

"Aooooohhhhhhhhh... shiiiiiiiit! Aaaaahhhhhh!" the blonde's voice sang as if she was warming up her vocal cords to sing an aria. Her body stretched against her bonds as every muscle tightened to its limits.  The veins in her neck and calves bulged, her fingernails cut into her palms, and her toes curved convulsively. The pain was far worse than Tara had expected, born at the very tip of the toe and radiating along her foot, legs, and up through her spine. She could not help but release a stream of blood-tinged urine through the seathole and onto the concrete floor. 'This can't be real!' she thought. Tara’s mind was sharp and lucid due to the stimulants she had received, allowing her to feel every tormented nerve pulse with utter clarity.

With a casual nonchalance that belied the grueling abuse she was inflicting on poor Tara, Alexandra continued her work. She placed the tiny, torn nail onto the tray, then at the rate of about one per minute, she yanked out each of the toenails on the girl’s foot.  Following removal of the smallest, she moved to its neighbor, and with only a bit more difficulty easily pulled it free.  Tara shook as much as her bonds would allow and let out another ear-piercing scream.  Alexandra struggled to keep Tara’s foot steady as she moved the pliers to her middle toe and ripped out the third nail.  The fourth was considerably more difficult, larger with deeper roots, but after twisting it to and fro several times, it met the same fate as the others. The girl did not emit a single comprehensible word after losing her first nail; all she let out were agonized shrieks – rich melodies of hellish pain.

And then, at last Alexandra tackled the nail of Tara’s big toe.  By this point, the anguished girl was crying out continuously, begging her tormentor to stop – but all to no avail. Alexandra had to wriggle the pliers in all directions, pulling the jaws up and down and side to side before the largest nail finally loosened enough to allow her to tear it away. Blood poured freely from the mangled flesh, and cascaded into the growing puddle which had formed under Tara’s left foot.

All five of her toes were mutilated and bleeding, but this was not yet enough for Alexandra. She continued using the pliers, but this time she clamped the jaws completely around Tara’s little toe. Letting go of the girl’s foot, she used both hands to squeeze the handles together, snapping the jaws shut and crushing the tiny appendage to kindling.  Had a sickening crunch not signaled the destruction of Tara’s toe, her deafening cries would have served as well.  The pain was beyond anything she had ever felt, at least until a minute later when another toe was squashed into oblivion… and then another… and another… until what had once been a sexy, well-manicured array of feminine digits was nothing more than gory pieces of pulverized meat dangling from Tara’s once perfect left foot.

With the pain ebbing somewhat, her cries turned to sobs.  Even if she wanted to talk, at this point she knew the Dragon Lady would not respond to her.  Tara mourned the loss of her beautiful toes, but she knew there were five more that would soon meet the same destiny – and there was nothing she could do to stop it.  As Alexandra moved the pliers to Tara’s right foot, the blonde began pleading desperately, begging for mercy and offering anything she could think of, anything but what her captors wanted to know.

"Stop! For God's sake...  Stop! No more, I'm begging you. No more of my toes!  Ohhh pleeease stop this! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything I know, but have mercy on me.  I'm sorry. I’m really sorry, I insulted you. I'm ready to talk.  I’ll tell you everything I can! I’ll talk! I can tell you so many things about my bosses!  Don't torture me any more! I'm a lesbian! I can make you happy. I know how to make a beautiful woman like you happy – I can do everything you have ever dreamed of!"  Between her blathering, Tara wept shamelessly, her tears  leaving trails of make-up across her face.

Of course, Alexandra was not interested in any of this.  She cursed Tara for wasting her time and told her she’d have a chance to offer up the information once the destruction of all her toes was complete.  Maybe then, she would realize how high the stakes had become.  Maybe then she would realize the cost of betraying Valentino was nothing compared to what she would endure if she refused to submit to Alexandra.

"How dare you beg! Can't you see how busy I am? I'm not interested in your pathetic whining and your whorish offers. You brought all this on yourself. You cows must learn that decisions have consequences! Your toes, all fucking ten of them, are condemned to obliteration, and once they’re gone, we can talk. I'm playing hard but I'm playing fair, cunt. Sit back and enjoy... there’s more fun to come..." Alexandra laughed and let the bloody jaws of the pliers touch the top of Tara's right foot, making the girl cry out in fear.

"You know what? As I'm in a generous mood today, I’ll give you one chance. But don’t bullshit me. I'm not interested in useless dirt about Valentino; I only want to know one specific thing: the details of his Blue Velvet operation.  What can you tell me about it?" Alexandra played with Tara, narrowing the conversation and staring right into the blonde's eyes.  She licked her lips and flashed a sadistic smile.

“No…  nothing… there’s nothing for me to tell about that,” Tara babbled.  “I don’t know anything… and even if I did, giving it up to you would  be suicide. You have no idea what that man would do to me if I crossed him…”

“You stupid slut.  How could it be any worse than this?”  Alexandra grabbed Tara’s demolished foot, causing the girl to yelp. “So maybe you’ll die in agony either way, but it’s not Valentino you need to worry about right this minute.  Think about that while I destroy the toes of your other foot. You’ll get a chance to respond when I’m done.”  In horror, Tara watched the Dragon Lady continue her gruesome task.

“No!!  God Nooo!!  NOOOOO!!!”   The blonde’s screaming was music to Alexandra’s ears. And Tara could not help but sing her shrill song of pure anguish as the rusty pliers made mincemeat of her luscious toes. She proved to be a very talented singer, with an extraordinarily wide scale of vocals – everything from ear piercing, high pitched screams down to the deepest, guttural rattles.  Tara emitted sounds which were more animalistic than human. "Noooo! Stooop! My toe! Shiiit! Fuuuck!"  Involuntarily, and all by herself Tara created the perfect audio accompaniment to her slow descent into hell.

It took Alexandra almost a half hour, but in time she had suitably maimed Tara’s right foot so that it looked very similar to its mate.  If anything, even more blood spurted from the ravaged remnants of the toes which once proudly crowned this exquisite part of her body.  Tara looked down to assess the damage, past the smooth curves of her naked torso to the tattered mess at the very tip of her lower limbs. She let out a despairing wail, not because of the pain – though that too was considerable – but because her beauty had been forever spoiled.  Her broken leg would heal, but her toes would never be the same.  The damage was so severe that she would never be able to walk properly again.

“You fucking bitch… you’ve ruined me!”  Tara lashed out at her adversary as her self-pity gave way to anger.

“You were warned,” said Alexandra, as if that justified her brutality. “You have only yourself to blame.  And now, unless you want to experience further mistreatment, I suggest you tell me about Valentino’s Blue Velvet operation… specifically how he is getting the drug into the country.” Alexandra finished by sweeping the ten ripped toenails into a small mound on her tray.

It took all her strength to resist, but Tara knew she could not give in to the Asian woman’s demands.  Whatever this perverse witch would do next, it would be unspeakably dreadful, but what she would do if Tara revealed her secrets would certainly be worse.  She knew she had no choice.

“Go fuck yourself, you evil piece of shit!”  Tara spat at Alexandra, and managed a half-hearted smirk of disgust.  It was a foolish act of defiance.  Instantly, the Dragon Lady ploughed her fist into Tara’s abdomen, causing her to thrust against her bonds and heave as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. Before she could recover, Alexandra grabbed her subject’s large breasts, one in each hand, and began pulling and twisting them with all her might. Her razor sharp nails cut into Tara's glorious globes, the claws digging into the blonde's flesh and ripping the skin. Snarling with rage, Alexandra twisted the firm melons.

"You miserable, bubble-chested bitch!" she roared.  A foam of saliva drooled from between her lips as if she had suddenly turned rabid. She dug her nails even deeper into Tara's breasts, drawing blood and tearing into the sensitive, meaty globes as if she was about to rip them apart with her bare hands. And Tara, the helpless but still brave drug courier, responded the only way she could – by thrashing her head back and forth and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Eventually, the enraged Asian pulled herself together and returned to the controlled demeanor she had affected earlier.  After all, she was a professional; she could not let her subject’s taunts distract her from the task at hand. Her nails left ten bloody trails across Tara's breasts, but no serious damage was done.  Still, the extreme pain caused the blonde girl to weep pitifully. Alexandra felt good, having had the opportunity to physically vent her rage by twisting her victim’s pliable flesh. She looked at the mangled remains of Tara’s toes and noticed the growing red puddles forming beneath the girl’s feet.  Loss of blood was becoming a problem. She decided to deal with it while initiating the next phase of the blonde’s interrogation – in effect, killing two birds with one stone.

“If you have even the slightest inclination to speak, I urge you to do so now,” she said calmly. “You will not enjoy what I will do to you next.”

“Do your worst, you slant-eyed cocksucker…”  Tara again tried to provoke her nemesis, this time unsuccessfully. “Even if I had something to tell you, I’d never give you the satisfaction…”

“Very well.  We’ve barely just begun, and since I do so much enjoy attending to a pair of beautiful feet, I may as well continue what I’ve started.  But first, let us make sure you don’t bleed to death.”  From the array of tools on the serving cart, Alexandra selected the propane torch.  The gas canister was less than a foot long and could easily be held in one hand; the valve assembly was also quite small. But once the gas was ignited, the nozzle produced a five inch blue flame, narrow but intensely hot.  Alexandra held it in front of Tara’s terror-filled eyes.

“Can you guess what I will do with this?” she asked rhetorically. “It will stem the bleeding from your crushed toes, but I suspect that will not be a very pleasant experience for you.” Alexandra smiled as Tara turned away from the torch. “Let us see if my suspicions are correct.” Alexandra lowered the torch and began moving the flame over the bloody bits of carrion which once were the well-formed toes of the blonde’s foot. After she had bravely submitted to losing her toenails and the subsequent grotesque mangling of the toes themselves, the threatening flame stole all of Tara's remaining courage in an instant. 

"Wait! I... Aaarrggghhhhhhh!" Before Tara could protest further, the hissing flame touched the tip of her once beautiful big toe. The girl grew instantly rigid and her eyes rolled back as she let out an animalistic shriek. Like a possessed madwoman, she  snorted between horrible screams, furiously banging her head against the back of her chair.  Every one of Tara’s muscles tightened under her skin, her veins bulging as she struggled to tear herself free of her restraints. She twisted her bound ankles as much as she could in hopes of moving her bloody feet away from the torch, but her efforts were in vain.  Her movements were limited and her torturer could easily position her toy wherever she wished.

The bluish flame spread around its target, burning the skin and evaporating every drop of moisture within moments. Steam and smoke rose in the air as it was filled with the disgusting smell of burnt human flesh. Tara's skin reddened, then blackened quickly under the intense heat. Blisters formed and popped in seconds. Her melting fat dripped from the destroyed tissue as if her toes and soles were pieces of ham in a frying pan.

Alexandra took her time, letting the flame traverse every inch of Tara's once flawless feet. She roasted the girl's splayed toes from all directions until they were no more than unrecognizable, smoking black stubs.  Burning the silky skin on the tops of Tara's feet, Alexandra soon turned the smooth contours into something resembling grilled chicken.

It seemed a miracle that Tara did not lose consciousness during the cruel torture, but Alexandra knew very well that the human nervous system could function unimpeded even when the body was endangered by fire. Centuries of evolution became a curse for Tara as she remained conscious while enduring the seemingly endless twenty minutes during which her feet were exposed to the flame. Besides her crazed shaking and thrusting, all she could do was wail and moan in anguish.

When Alexandra finally pulled the propane torch away, Tara stared in disbelief at the damage inflicted.  In place of her once supple, shapely feet there were two blackened lumps of bloated flesh.  A pus-like liquid oozed from the severe burns and combined with coagulated blood to form a gooey substance which dripped slowly to the floor. The flame had welded her crushed toes into amorphous masses of tattered tissue and bone splinters. Her heels had the consistency of burnt charcoal, having literally been carbonized under the intense heat.  What little skin remained below her ankles hung in discolored, glistening shreds.

Tara retched at the grisly sight. Her vocal chords shredded from constantly screaming, she could only let out pathetic mewls of anguish. Swooning and barely conscious, she shivered uncontrollably, her body succumbing to the shock of her ordeal. Overwhelmed by the pain, her eyes rolled back and her head slumped forward onto her chest as she passed out.

“Shit!” Alexandra cursed. “Just when I was going to question her again.” She slapped and punched her unconscious subject, but was unable to revive her. “Lars!” The Dragon Lady snapped her fingers at the well-muscled Swede. “We need more Dextro-Meth.  You know what to do.”

Lars picked up a medical kit which contained the large syringe he had used earlier, and brought it to his boss.  With a nod from Alexandra, he took the empty hypodermic, refilled it with the stimulant, and again injected the contents into Tara’s overinflated chest.  As it had earlier, the needle miraculously missed the drug-filled implant.  This time, however, the serum had little effect – after several minutes, the blonde remained motionless, slumping limply in the straps which bound her to the chair.

Alexandra was growing impatient.  “More.  Stab it into her other tit.”

“But Mistress Huang…  another dose might…”

“I don’t care what happens to this piece of garbage.”  Alexandra cut him off before he could finish. “Just wake her up so she can suffer and talk.”

“As you wish.” Lars filled the syringe and plunged the needle into Tara’s soft flesh for the third time.  He thrust it directly into the nipple of her other breast, injecting more stimulant, but also nicking the implant just enough to allow a tiny flow of Blue Velvet to begin leaking into Tara’s gland.  While the Dextro-Meth quickly coursed through her blood stream, unbeknownst to both Tara and her captors, the other drug, the one she had smuggled inside her boobs, was slowly being absorbed into her body.

Thanks to the double dose of Dextro-Meth, Tara’s now over-stimulated nervous system gradually brought her back to an unwelcome state of consciousness. At first groggy and unaware of what was going on around her, she did not hear Alexandra command her men to prepare the next phase of the interrogation.  Tara felt a powerful wave of pain as her lower legs were unstrapped from the chair and her badly injured feet were apparently locked into some other device.  She heard the men scurry around her as Alexandra gave clipped orders, but she was too dazed and woozy to understand what was happening.  Tara willed herself to pass out again, to make the horrors go away, but as the stimulant gained full potency, she eventually found herself fully revived and facing Alexandra’s wrath.

"So nice of you to come back to play with us, bitch. We were beginning to miss your honored company." Alexandra mocked her captive before spitting in the girl’s face, landing a gob of saliva on her nose. "Now that you’re fully awake again, let me ask you one more time: is there anything you wish to tell me about how Valentino gets Blue Velvet into the country?"

Tara withstood Alexandra’s questions and her ever-increasing anger in stoic silence.  The blonde captive knew her obstinacy would raise the stakes of her punishment, that the tortures she would be forced to endure would escalate in direct proportion to the Dragon Lady’s rage and viciousness. But what else could she do?  She moaned.  She whimpered.  But as usual, she did not talk.

“Bloody, fucking hell!!”  Alexandra threw up her hands and shouted at no one in particular.  “It’s as if she enjoys this!”  The Asian woman grabbed Tara’s jaw and forced the girl to look directly at her from less than a foot away.  Alexandra’s eyes widened and her sharp teeth were exposed as she drew back her lips; her stunning face suddenly looked like a cross between a wild beast and a vampiress.

“You think you can hold out,” she said.  “But you’re wrong…”

“Just kill me… you wretched psycho!!”  Tara found the energy to scream at her tormentor, then took the opportunity to spit back in her face.  She braced for the inevitable retaliation, a physical blow to some part of her naked body, but it did not come.  Instead, Alexandra coolly wiped the spittle from her cheek and stepped back.

“Look,” she said, pointing down to the base of the chair. Tara did as she was told.  On the floor in front of her, the men had placed a rectangular glass box. It looked like a small aquarium with transparent panes on all sides.  The top pane was made of two hinged sections which locked together like a pillory, complete with semi-circular cut-outs which formed two round apertures when the sections were closed.  These openings had been locked around Tara’s ankles, trapping her feet inside the aquarium.  Through the glass, she could see the burned, mutilated remains of her feet hanging a few inches above the aquarium’s base.

The pain had subsided only a little, and on seeing the damage inflicted earlier, Tara again became aware of the excruciating stabs of agony. There was also the shock of seeing these treasured parts of her body mangled beyond repair.  But why were they encased in this weird contraption?  What else could these wicked people do to her?  Tara looked more carefully and soon had her answer. A shudder ran up her spine as she realized the glass base of the aquarium seemed to be moving… as if it was alive!  In fact, it was covered almost a half inch deep with insects.

“Oh fuck…  no…  what the fuck… what the fuck is that?!!”  Tara stammered, her eyes wide with terror.

“Flesh-eating fire ants from the upper Amazon,” Alexandra answered proudly.  “The larger ones are almost an inch long.  Their mandibles are strong enough to chew through solid oak, and a single colony can skeletonize a cow in less than a day.  There are just a few hundred in that glass box, but I’m sure you can imagine what they would do to you if only they could reach a little higher.  All we need do…  “  Alexandra motioned at one of her men, who adjusted the height of Tara’s chair by a fraction of an inch, “… is lower you just a bit further, and these cute little carnivores will envelop your feet and strip them to the bone!”

"Noooo! Fuck noooo! You can't do this to meee!" Fear overwhelmed Tara at the sight of the swarming insects. Her feet had already been destroyed beyond recognition, but the sight of the insects made her shiver as she realized that the charred remnants were about to be fed to these disgusting creatures.

“Then talk bitch!  It’s the only way you can stop this.  Your feet are already so badly damaged that you will be crippled for life.  Do you want them completely annihilated?”  The man adjusting Tara’s chair lowered it a bit further.  The blonde wailed as she felt the deadly ants tickle her soles. Or was she only imagining the tickle? After all, few of her nerve endings could have survived the nasty roasting she endured earlier. Still, Tara was sure she was sensing the hungry critters. A few of them had already managed to clamber over her flesh to begin feasting on it.  “They certainly are hungry little buggers,” Alexandra observed.  “And it seems they like cooked meat even more than the raw stuff they usually eat.”

“NOOOOOO!!!”  Tara screamed.

“Then talk, you fucking twat…  TALK!!!”

“I don’t…  I don’t know… any… thing!”

“You fool!”  Alexandra gave a thumbs down signal and the man lowering the chair let it drop so that Tara’s soles were pressed flat against the base of the glass container.  Inadvertently, the long-suffering blonde crushed a few dozen ants, but hundreds more immediately clambered all over their suddenly accessible food source. Alexandra watched in fascination as the swarm of insects blanketed Tara’s feet to begin their buffet.  In seconds, new rivulets of blood were flowing across the girl’s charred skin and the larger ants had ripped off some of her previously shredded flesh.  So gruesome was the sight of the carnage, that even Alexandra felt queasy and briefly turned away. But when Tara let out a bestial howl of agony, she continued to watch the savage torture, relishing every moment of the blonde beauty’s suffering.

Even though the nerves on the outer layers of her skin were burnt away, those imbedded deeper in Tara’s tissue still were able to feel pain. The ants quickly chomped through the surface of the blonde’s cooked flesh to get at the moist and tender, blood filled meat underneath. Tara was on the verge of giving in, to tell everything in hopes of letting the Oriental demoness end her life quickly. Her eyes widened until her face looked oddly distorted, and the hoarse, agonized sounds coming from her throat pierced the air. Alexandra was still smiling.

Tara had no energy left to fight against the inevitable. Her feet were in such bad condition that she was incapable of moving them even slightly to shake off the tiny monsters. Hundreds of ants gnawed deep into her flesh, savouring the bleeding meat, tearing small chunks of it away with every bite. They dug under the loose flaps to get at the most succulent morsels, leaving Alexandra thinking the burnt shreds of skin resembled small, wrinkled sheets blowing in the wind as the insects moved underneath them.

'Ella! Ella! I do this for you! I die for you! I love you!' Tara repeated again and again to herself.  But in fact she was squealing pathetically, chewing on her tongue until her teeth drew blood. Willing herself away from the horrors around her, she imagined the pretty, smiling face of Ella. That gave Tara strength. Having her feet devoured by ants was unbearable, but as Alexandra did not give her any other option, she had no choice but to endure it. And Tara did. She filled the warehouse with her horrified screaming, involuntarely urinating again, and cutting her fingernails so deep into her palms that the blood began trickling along the arms of the chair.  She struggled with all her strength against her tight bonds, but only succeeded in bruising her wrists and ankles.

No matter how disgusting this final destruction of Tara's feet appeared, Alexandra could not help but feel her arousal grow. She hated the blonde bitch. She hated everything about her, including her feet, and felt tremendous satisfaction in destroying them. And because she hated the girl so much, she was not altogether disappointed that the bitch did not give in easily – it gave her great pleasure to watch Tara suffer. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder how such a dumb, feeble and spoiled slut was proving to be tougher than Japanese gangsters. The Dragon Lady watched in fascination as her prized ants enjoyed their feast, and when they ripped away the biggest toepad from Tara’s left foot, she almost yelled out with childish glee.

For almost an hour, the destruction of Tara’s feet continued, but even Alexandra knew that no torture could last forever.  The ants became sated before the girl’s bones had been completely stripped of flesh, but what was left was nothing that could be considered recognizably human.  At the point where Tara’s ankles entered the glass container, they suddenly tapered from the shapely calves of a comely female to what looked like something found in a butcher’s waste bin:  bloody strips of flesh clinging to exposed bone, sometimes charred and burnt, but mainly red and raw and moist.  What little flesh was still attached to the complex network of bones in Tara’s feet was tattered and torn, hanging along with tendons and ligaments in strips of shredded tissue. Much of the skeletal structure was exposed, and whatever was left of her toes was indistinguishable from the gelatinous stumps which remained.

Alexandra whistled in amazement.  Several of her men moved in for a closer look.  Even Nazar rose from his couch to see what all the fuss was about, once again neglecting Petra’s renewed attentions in favor of the Dragon Lady’s sadistic delights. Petra stayed put, looking more than a little worried. She was clearly scared to death by the hellish nightmare she was witnessing, and so did her best to entertain Nazar as her Mistress commanded. But despite being motivated to perform her very best, her client still seemed to prefer the sadistic perils being meted out to the big-boobed blonde who remained the center of everyone’s attention.

The fire ant torture had been most impressive, but it had done little to loosen Tara’s tongue.  If nothing else, this comely vixen was a tough nut to crack – far more tenacious than Alexandra had thought.  Nazar had been right.  Nonetheless, though there was little more they could do to the poor girl’s feet, most of her body was still intact – a most enticing and accessible means by which to encourage her cooperation.

As for Tara herself, the unimaginable anguish caused by the rapacious insects had left her gasping and barely conscious.  Alexandra feared that once again, her subject would pass out before she could begin the next phase of her interrogation.  Lars had already filled his syringe with another dose of stimulant, even though he knew a fourth injection would almost certainly prove fatal. But Tara did not care.  She prayed for death.  She wanted only to escape whatever ordeals this Chinese hell spawn had in store for her.  If the Dextro-Meth hastened her demise, so be it.  Another stab in the tit followed by a quick death was far preferable to Alexandra’s creative torture kit.

Unfortunately for Tara, her hopes for a quick exit had been dashed when Lars had ruptured the implant in her right breast.  As Blue Velvet slowly seeped into her body, its arousing properties had the same stimulating effect as the Dextro-Meth, supercharging the blonde’s nervous system and making her far more resilient to pain and torture.  In essence, by energizing her libido, the Blue Velvet was turning Tara into a pain and punishment resistant woman who could withstand Alexandra’s abuse far beyond the limits of the average female.

Alexandra, Nazar, Lars, and all the others in the warehouse had expected Tara to fall unconscious after the inconceivable pain induced by the flesh eating ants.  And for a while, it seemed the gasping, barely sentient girl would meet their expectations.  Lars prepared to inject her with another dose of stimulant, fearing that it would cut short the interrogation plans of his boss.

Yet, much to everyone’s surprise, Tara did not pass out. In fact, her eyes fluttered open and she seemed to regain much of the strength she had lost during her previous ordeals.  She twisted in her bonds and cursed her tormentors with newfound energy.  No one, least of all Tara, knew why this was so.  But it was a pleasant surprise for Alexandra, as she realized there was so much more she could do to persuade her subject to cooperate… that the obliteration of her feet had only been a sample of what was to come.

She grabbed a handful of Tara’s hair and twisted her head to face her own. “Now do you want to tell me about Valentino’s smuggling operation?”

“Fuck you, bitch… I'll never tell you, you cunt-faced whore…”  Tara coughed, clearly in pain, but she didn’t hesitate to use her unexpected strength to taunt her foe.

“Whatever…”  Alexandra brushed off Tara’s reproach.  “I’m not the one strapped to a chair.  And I’m not the one who will never stand on her two feet again.  And I’m not the one being tortured. Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to tell us anything before I continue your journey to hell?”

“Are you deaf?  I said…. FUCK YOU!!”

Alexandra sighed. “No cunt… Fuck YOU!!”

Chapter VI – Defeminizing Consequences

"So what do we do with her feet... or rather what’s left of them?  They’re bleeding badly." Lars spoke to the Dragon Lady as she took a short walk towards the warehouse's door.  Interrogation was an exhausting hobby.

"Truncate and cauterize them,” Alexandra replied as she slowly marched in front of her men, all standing about unconcernedly in various states of undress. “Those pitiful remnants are useless to her now, and they just look disgusting anyway." Even if she did not pay any attention to the men, from the corner of her eye she saw many sported partial or full erections.  They had already recovered from cumming inside Tara earlier. After witnessing the girl’s diabolical torture and now seeing their boss flagrantly exhibit her body, they were extremely horny.

Alexandra's lips curved into a knowing smile; she had chosen the right men for this job. Meanwhile, Lars placed a knee-high bench in front of Tara and released the straps which immobilized her calves. He placed her ankles onto the bench, leaving the bloody stumps of her feet dangling freely.  Long strands of shredded tendons and loosened, burnt skin hung down in gory tatters.  A hulking black man held Tara's calves firmly as Lars raised a large meat cleaver, the kind preferred by psycho killers in slasher movies

"Fuck no!" was all Tara could cry out before the shiny blade swung down, cutting off the remains of her right foot at the ankle. Tara did not scream. She just gasped soundlessly like a beached fish, then watched in horror as the blade was raised again before chopping off her other foot. Again, she was too weak to scream, managing only a series of painful moans and nasal whines.  Blood spurted out from the ruptured arteries – but not for long.  Lars was ready to stem the bleeding.

He held a short metal shaft to which was fastened a searing, electric hot-plate. He brought the improvised tool close to the raw meat and the white bone of Tara's stumps. A sickening hissing sound was followed by rising plumes of smoke. At last, the long-suffering blonde emitted a fearsome scream to shatter the eerie quiet.

The muscular Swede removed the plate a few seconds later and immediately pushed it against the other destroyed leg. In less than a minute, both of Tara's feet had been amputated and the resulting wounds cauterized.  Alexandra and her men knew well how to deal with situations such as this, how to keep an otherwise mortally injured subject alive.  After all, they were trained professionals. As soon as Tara's screams faded away Alexandra returned to her captive.

With the sole of her shoe the oriental woman poked at the amputated hunks of meat on the floor. She grimaced in disgust.  "Take these to the guard dogs outside,” she ordered. “They do so enjoy prime quality meat." Lars collected the mutilated remains into a plastic bag and headed towards the door.

"Oh yes... and check for ants, I don't want the dogs to suffer because of my treat," Alexandra called after him before ordering the others to re-fasten Tara's shins to the chair. Now that the girl’s feet were gone, two pairs of straps were required to keep her lower legs properly restrained.

"Well, well, slut, it seems your body has become a few pounds lighter since you arrived. Most girls would be pleased to lose weight so quickly.  Why aren’t you smiling?  Maybe it’s because you are no longer that tall, elegant cunt you used to be.  What do you think? How much height have you lost?  Six inches? Maybe ten if you include the heels you will never wear again.” Alexandra mocked her victim with a mordant smile.

"You are a sick fuck!" Tara hissed, but her anger did not erase the smile from Alexandra's face.

"I am sick, honey," Alexandra replied in a mellifluous voice. "But you have no idea how much sicker I can become when the mood strikes me."

When Lars returned, the door opened momentarily to the sounds of barking and vicious snarling outside. Once again Alexandra took a seat in front of Tara, placing her fingers onto the blonde's sweat-soaked thighs. She playfully pinched Tara's silky skin between her sharp nails as she let her fingers wander upwards toward the girl’s crotch. The chair was big and her legs were wide open, so Alexandra had easy access to Tara's bloody, cum-covered, but still neatly trimmed pussy.

"Hmm, what a lovely little kitty you have," she purred, pinching Tara's inner labia between her nails and pulling them out. The blonde had broad, protruding petals, which was not surprising given all the penetration she had endured whoring for the mob. Alexandra, a self-taught expert on female anatomy, was extraordinarily skilled at using a woman’s sexual organs for two main purposes: as instruments of pleasure and as instruments of pain. She gently forced her index finger between the pliant lips and touched the shiny, warm flesh that connected Tara's clitoris and vaginal opening. She rubbed it a bit with the pad of her finger, then playfully flicked Tara's clitoris.

Alexandra used two fingers to squeeze the girl’s clitoral hood until the tiny bud emerged from under it. She did not expect Tara to react to this. What woman could possibly enjoy being sexually stimulated, after hours of extreme torture? But to Alexandra’s great surprise, her victim's pussy reacted to her titillating touch. Not only did the clit start to swell and redden, but Tara's vagina grew moist, her glands excreting slippery sexual juices to lubricate her savagely raped cunt.

"Fuck! I can’t believe this!" Alexandra said in astonishment. She looked into Tara's eyes and realized her tormented subject was just as surprised as she was. Tara had to force herself not to open her lips and moan. She was shocked that her torturer's touch aroused her just as if the demonic woman had been her beloved Ella. Of course, unbeknownst to both captor and captive, was that the Blue Velvet in Tara's bloodstream had taken control of the girl’s hormonal system, simultaneously increasing production of adrenaline, endorphins, estrogen and testosterone. The result was to heighten both sexual desire and pain tolerance tenfold.  No wonder Blue Velvet had become the most popular drug in town within a few months.

"And you have the nerve to call ME sick?” Alexandra exclaimed. "You are the sick one, you whore! You must be some weird, masochistic freak! Confess slut... do you actually enjoy what I'm doing to you?" Alexandra again pushed her index finger into Tara's pussy, scraping a sharp nail roughly along the sensitive inner wall of the blonde's vaginal cavity. Unbelievably, Tara’s cunt grew moister, as if responding to a lover’s soft caress.

For a moment, Alexandra’s expression grew worried. "How will I know if you are suffering or if you are enjoying it when I torture that sorry cunt of yours?" she said, more to herself than to her victim.  Then, assuming that Tara’s ability to endure punishment was simply much greater than that of other females, Alexandra happily realized this meant the unfortunate beauty was a much more resilient plaything – one which would last longer than the others, and could be taken to much more extreme levels of agony.

"You might think being a pain slut will help you... that it will enable you to resist what I have in store for you,” said Alexandra. "But in fact, it will only prolong your agony, and allow me to make you suffer like no woman – like no human being ever has before!”

Tara shook her head in disbelief.  What was happening to her?  She had never felt like this before.  In fact she hated it when her johns routinely beat up on her.  "I’m not a masochist!” she protested weakly.  But she knew she had no hope of placating the wicked Dragon Lady. She wondered if she should give in, if anything that would happen to her if she talked could be worse than what she was facing now.  Too afraid to speak, she remained silent when Alexandra once again demanded information. And then it was too late.  The next phase of Tara’s slow descent into hell had begun.

Alexandra looked at the array of torture implements on the tray beside her and lifted up several in turn, looking at Tara as she did so.  By gauging the girl’s reaction to each possible selection, she hoped to find the tool which would at least instill the most fear, if not the most punishment.  She raised an ice pick and Tara winced. She raised a scalpel, and Tara winced some more.  An electric drill produced an audible gasp, but in the end, Alexandra was not pleased with any of the blonde’s responses.  The hand-tools clearly wouldn’t be sufficient to persuade such a stubborn slut. 

Her men had prepared well, stocking the warehouse with a variety of specialty apparatus, devices which were meant to be used only as tools of torture, not just ones which originally were designed for a carpenter or a welder. The men also knew the choreography of Alexandra’s interrogation, and so it took only a nod, a look, or a pointed finger to indicate what she had in mind.  This time, their boss’s somewhat frustrated expression was enough to tell them what she was thinking.  Tara didn’t know it, but the stakes had just gone up a few notches.

One of the men, a biker type with long, greasy hair, retrieved a seemingly innocuous metal cube, dull gray and about eighteen inches on each side.  Along the top panel were a few switches, dials, and a small digital display. An electric cord dangled from one side, so although it appeared to be a harmless box, it required power and, one would gather it could actually do something. It could be lifted by handles on opposite sides, and given biker-guy’s grunting and straining as he carried it, the gizmo was quite heavy.  He plunked it down on the raised platform, directly in front of Tara’s chair.  She looked down at it with an unsettled expression.  This can’t be good, she thought to herself.

Her fears were soon confirmed.  After plugging it in, Alexandra flicked one of the switches.  The device whirred to life, and a round aperture opened in the middle of the cube’s top, just a few inches past the controls.  Seconds later, a shiny metal rod emerged from the opening.  The tip of the rod tapered to a dull point, but after the first few inches emerged, Tara noticed it grew wider until it was almost four inches in diameter.  It rose slowly, like a missile rising up from an underground silo.  But unlike a missile, the gleaming pole did not have a smooth surface.  Instead, it was studded with hundreds of small, sharp metal projections, as if it had been covered with thumb tacks.  This feature, combined with the phallic shape of the thing, made it instantly apparent to Tara what it could do.

"Oh god nooooo!!" she shrieked. "It will rip me apart!  Please.... don't..."  She shook her head and tugged at the straps securing her.

"Oh come now," mocked the grinning Dragon Lady.  "I'm sure you've had bigger things stuffed into your snatch before.  And those spiked prongs along the shaft?  Just think of them as providing a little extra stimulation."  Alexandra laughed and continued letting the oversized phallus emerge from its container.  Eventually it reached its limit, and to Tara's dismay, the metal monster was almost as long as the box it came from.  The pointed end had come to a stop just below her breasts.  If it was allowed to rise that far inside her, she would never survive.

Seeing the terror in her victim's eyes, Alexandra reassured her.  "Don't worry, my dear.  I would never let you die so easily.  As much as l would enjoy letting this lovely machine impale the life out of you, its main purpose is somewhat different than you may think."  She flipped another switch, then slowly cranked one of the dials.  The machine began to hum and an ever increasing sequence of numbers flashed by on the digital display.  Once Alexandra had twisted the dial as far as it would go, the humming noise was almost deafening, and bright arcs of current crackled menacingly while flashing along the vertical shaft.  Even when reading the display upside down, Tara could see it showed the number five followed by three zeros.

"That's right, baby," said Alexandra proudly.  "5000 volts of searing current.  Can you imagine what it would feel like to touch it?  To have it... inside you?"  She watched as the blonde squirmed in abject terror. "Now talk, you cunt.  Otherwise, the demonstration is over and I make you test drive this little gadget."  Tara could only babble incoherently.  Once again, she lost control of her bladder, letting a bit more urine dribble to the floor.

"No...  pissing yourself is not the right answer." Alexandra shook her head slowly in disgust.  "But the wetter you are the better your body will transmit the current.  So feel free to get moist down there."  She laughed, then turned the dial back to zero.  The humming stopped.  She lowered the shaft until the tip was just below the seat of the chair.  She pushed the metal box forward, sliding the entire machine under the chair until the pole was centered beneath the opening under Tara's ass.  The tapered end of the rod was just an inch away from the girl's outer labia.  She braced herself for what was about to happen.

Calmly, and showing no mercy, Alexandra reached under the chair and activated the switch to begin raising the spiked shaft. It rose even more slowly than before, taking almost a minute to reach Tara's pussy.  When the tip touched her flesh, the girl yelped, even though it caused her no pain.  But that was soon to change.  After the heartless Dragon Lady flipped another switch, the phallic invader began to rotate, and soon it was drilling its way into Tara's snatch, cleaving her vaginal lips and burrowing into the moist warmth of her womanhood.

Tara felt the familiar, pleasant sensation of a hard cock poking against her sex.  Involuntarily, she gave in to her urges, moaning and twisting her hips.  The sensation was intensified because of the Blue Velvet leaking into her body, and for a minute or two, she forgot all about her deadly dilemma. She closed her eyes and thought of Ella, reveling in the orgasmic bliss of having her clit massaged by the rotating, mechanical lover.

Tara's mind was far from clear. Even though Blue Velvet wasn't a hallucinogenic drug, it acted as a catalyst when users began to fantasize. In Tara's world, her sexual pleasure was strictly linked to Ella, and this is what came to mind as the drug enveloped her. Whenever she saw Ella, she wanted to make love to her, and whenever she felt horny, Ella is what came to her mind.  No wonder that after her imagination was boosted by the Blue Velvet, her visions of her lover filled her mind. Ella, that beautiful, cute and sexy girl – with her charming oriental eyes, her perfectly tanned skin, and that naughty, sensual smile – walked towards her. Ella's natural and – for Asians – unusually large boobs, with their dark areolas and proud, erect nipples, were pure eye candy – irresistible and always arousing.

Ella playfully curled her long-nailed index finger and invited her lover closer and closer, her image embellished by the phallic rod spinning inside Tara with mechanical precision. The machine and the fantasy combined to lubricate Tara's sex until her juices flowed along the shaft and coated the metallic spikes. Ella's lips pressed against Tara's in a deep, passionate, wet kiss, her tongue exploring Tara's mouth, causing the tortured girl to moan loudly as her desire grew. Ella kneeled in front of Tara's trembling legs – in her fantasy she still had her feet – and lapped the blonde's moist pussy with her skilled tongue. In the torture chair, Tara opened her mouth and she let out short, gasping cries of pleasure, her extraordinary tits bouncing, her pussy inviting the rod to penetrate deeper. Orgasm after orgasm rocked Tara's body; her fingers clenched into fists and she emitted moans of ecstasy. Tara drooled uncontrollably and rotated her hips as if to get the shaft to further stimulate her vagina.

Once again, Alexandra was taken aback.  How could this woman, her feet gone and her body beaten and ravished, be enjoying herself? 

"I don't know what is wrong with you, but you are the most shameless, screwed-up cunt I have ever worked on," Alexandra said, but her tortured captive was so delirious that Alexandra knew she wasn't listening. That was about to change, but for the moment Alexandra was amazed by the depths of her victim's lust. She knew a lot about masochism, but she also realized all humans had limits. Every woman had a stimulus threshold, beyond which real suffering would eclipse her lust for pain. Having her feet tortured and amputated should have taken Tara far beyond her limits, if only because of the incredible pain radiating from her stumps. Yet despite all she had endured, the whore was acting as if she was being serviced by lesbians in a Thai bordello. To Alexandra, this was inexplicable.

"Enjoy it, you sick fuck," she said in a malicious voice. "This probably is the last time in your life during which you will enjoy anything..."

The top two inches of the shaft were free of the sharp spikes which covered it from that point down. It was also much narrower than at its full circumference.  In fact, were it not for the heinous pole below, that smooth and spinning tip would have made an ideal sex toy.  Too bad for Tara that her pleasure would be so short-lived.

Yet so intense were the orgasms forced upon her that the hapless blonde did not even notice the metal spikes when they began tearing into her flesh.  For almost half a minute, the pole rose further, now chewing apart the puffy pink lips of Tara's pussy, but with no reaction from its owner.  Blood began streaming from her groin, but the girl remained oddly unconcerned, lost in her libidinous fantasy.  Only when the pointed protrusions began ripping into her clitoris did the relentless machine break her reverie.  And when at last it did, Tara was instantly consumed by agony so overwhelming, she thought her entire body was being torn apart.

Ella's sexy image instantly dissolved in a bright flash of searing pain. The Blue Velvet which previously had given her so much pleasure now became a transmitter of torment. The tone of her screams changed as her anguished cries became shrill, high pitched and longer than before – they were the bestial shrieks of a woman whose femininity was being ground into a bloody pulp. Still, Tara's body rocked and quivered wildly, just as it had earlier, but as her eyes widened, they revealed her feelings had swayed from sensual pleasure to unrelenting anguish. It wasn't just simple pain that consumed her; it was pure and inhuman suffering of the worst kind, beyond what most women could ever endure.

After what seemed an eternity to poor Tara, but was no more than twenty minutes, Alexandra ended the blonde's slow impalement.  Ten inches of the shaft had penetrated into her cunt, literally shredding apart the fragile lining of her vagina as it bored deep inside her. But it was the opening to her most intimate orifice that had received the worst of the torture.  It was a mangled piece of raw meat, bloody and no longer identifiable as human, let alone part of the female anatomy.  Yet somewhere in that maze of gore between her legs, her badly mangled clit still pulsed with life.  With the metal pole finally at rest, the pain subsided slightly, and as Tara groaned in an anguished stupor, the Blue Velvet continued to desecrate her body in other ways.

Drawing on the last of Tara's ability to feel pleasure, her clit sent weakening signals to her brain.  This time there were no fantasy images, only raw, carnal impulses. Like the final sparks of a dying campfire, these impulses mixed together with the pain she was enduring, contributing additional torment to Tara's already overloaded nervous system.

Alexandra could only stand by and watch her victim's lascivious behavior in rapt fascination.  She was dumbfounded.  She could not tell if Tara was suffering because of extreme pain or from some kind of sensory overload due to her masochistic desires.  But one thing was certain: she was suffering a great deal.  Her body was perspiring uncontrollably.  She twisted and thrust in her restraints like a trapped tigress.  She was screaming like the proverbial banshee – nothing understandable, only howls of bestial fury.  Still, the look on her face was just as much orgasmic as it was anguished.  In her many years interrogating her foes, Alexandra had never seen anything like this.

At last the Dragon Lady had had enough.  "Time for playtime to end," she said, eager to ensure this big-breasted bitch would not get even the slightest pleasure from her treatment.  She reached under the chair and cranked the voltage dial.  Normally, Alexandra would have started on low power, slowly increasing the current so her subject would become aware of it bit by bit and letting the terror build gradually.  But in this case it would be pointless to do so.  She needed to flood Tara's nervous system.  She had to crush the girl's masochism with stimulation so all-consuming that anything but pure, searing agony would be obliterated.

And so, Tara's writhing body suddenly jerked and stiffened as one thousand volts of electricity surged into her.  She looked like she had been flash frozen, her features unmoving on her face and her torso sitting bolt upright as if suddenly turned to stone.  The loud buzz of the machine filled the air, and a muffled crackling could be heard as the shaft erupted inside Tara's pussy.  Tiny bolts of current arced bizarrely from the blonde's mutilated crotch, causing Alexandra to step back a few paces for safety.  The sweat glistening on the blonde’s skin soon began to condense, and tiny tendrils of steam rose from her flesh.

Tara's fingers spread open as the current caused her digits to shake and spasm until they became an undistinguishable blur. She snarled and gritted her teeth as even the tiny muscles in her lips were cramped by the electricity. Luckily her tongue did not become trapped between her teeth; otherwise she would surely have chewed it off. Tara bit down so hard that several pieces of shattered, white enamel fell from her mouth as she destroyed her once perfect smile.

The scene was riveting.  Even Nazar, who had returned to his couch to enjoy Petra's attentions, again pushed his 'gift' aside to watch the incredible show.  He could not take his eyes off the beautiful captive as she suffered, unable to cry out or move a single muscle.  She clearly was feeling extraordinary pain, but the powerful current made any form of struggle or protest impossible. At least until Alexandra cut the electricity.  At that point, Tara recovered control of her body and reacted with the extreme fervor one would expect.

"Fuuuuck!" she screamed out, even though her throat was so dry that her voice was shaky and significantly weaker than before. She couldn't believe what she was feeling. She was at the very edge of sanity, and understood why death would be preferable to what she was experiencing now. The loss of her feet and especially her beloved toes was bad enough, but the slow destruction of her sex seemed even more brutal. As the rod was spinning inside her and grinding her pussy to mush, she knew she had lost her womanhood. And despite her foggy, pain-addled thoughts, Tara realized one additional thing: only her death would stop this sick woman from torturing her. At the same time, her death also would save Ella's life – at least as long as Tara did not reveal any information about her beloved. Tara realized she had only one option: to force Alexandra to kill her. Tara had to drive her tormentor made with rage until she applied lethal force.

"Eat shit you fucking Chink!" she spat out the words which were barely audible over the hum of the machine.  Alexandra didn't hear the insult, or simply chose to ignore her victim.

Once Tara regained some control over her twitching, badly shocked body, Alexandra launched a second assault.  This time she doubled the voltage to 2000 volts – not sufficient to kill, but enough to induce unconsciousness in most women after a minute or two.  Of course, with an ever increasing dose of Blue Velvet coursing through her veins, not to mention the stimulants she had received, Tara was no longer like most women. Again, her body went rigid.  She felt as if a jackhammer had been started inside her pussy, driving powerful, white hot blasts of energy up into her torso, igniting every nerve with burning pain.

This time Tara's tongue did not escape unscathed. Her teeth snapped together and a small portion of pink flesh was trapped between her jaws. As the current shook her body, her teeth literally sheared it off, leaving the bloody hunk of tissue to fall between her trembling tits.

At last Alexandra turned off the current.  Tara slumped in her bonds, gasping for breath and barely conscious. The Dragon Lady moved in close, grabbed the girl by the chin and pulled her head up to stare into her eyes.

“How long do you think you can hold out, bitch?”  The sadistic smile she gave earlier had disappeared from Alexandra’s face.  Instead, her features had become a mask of pure menace. “Can you imagine what the inside of that sorry twat of yours must look like now?  Can you imagine what will happen when I double the voltage again?”

Tara collected blood, saliva and a few pieces of her shattered teeth in her mouth, intending to spit the revolting mixture into Alexandra's face. But even this act of defiance proved to be a pathetic failure.  Too weak after the shocks to properly spit at her foe, Tara only managed to dribble the disgusting fluid from her lower lip.

"Fuck you..." she groaned in a faltering voice.

"Actually, it's not me who is fucked, cunt." Alexandra clarified the situation. "It is not me who is having her snatch skinned and pulverized by a torture dildo. How does it feel to have your cunt's inner walls stripped off, layer by layer? Are you still enjoying yourself, you disgusting little tart?" Alexandra laughed.  "No?  Well that's too bad because I'm having a great time. I just love watching useless sluts like you suffer."

As her captor taunted her, Tara could not help but feel the familiar sexual urges rising within her yet again.  It couldn’t be possible, she thought to herself.  The electrical torture had pushed her to the verge of death, and still this completely inappropriate response began to envelope her.  Desperately, Tara tried to resist.  But her body was no longer under her control, succumbing first to the pain of electrocution, and then to a relentless surge of sexual stimulation.  Soon it became impossible for Tara to hold back any more.

Her mouth opened, her eyes glazed over, and soon her agony gave way to a familiar surge of unstoppable desire. Tara emitted a suppressed but audible moan and although her ruined cunt could hardly show any sign of her orgasmic response, the libidinous rush inside her body had found its way through the incredible agony she was suffering. Alexandra recognized the signs, if only by observing the gleam in the girl's eyes.

Tara’s timing could not have been worse, or given her plan to anger the Dragon Lady, it could not have been better.  With Alexandra standing right in front of her, she could not hide what had just happened.  As expected, her tormentor was not the least bit pleased.  Tara might as well have just said “Give it to me harder, you sadistic crone.”  Alexandra’s anger was immediate.

“Cunt!!” she shouted, then reached down to restart the device.  As promised, the dial was set to 4000 volts, enough to kill all but the strongest of recipients.

Tara's world exploded in a sharp white flash and once again her body pulled against her bonds while every muscle spasmed and twitched. As if to increase Tara's torment to the fullest, the current served to heat up the spinning shaft, turning it into a red-hot poker.  The intensity was not sufficient to completely cauterize the girl's bleeding wounds, but it did serve to roast her flesh and multiply her pain further still. Puffs of smoke rose from Tara's crotch, and the smell of burning human tissue filled the air yet again. Blue sparks danced along Tara's body and the sweat which covered her hissed noisily as it constantly evaporated from her skin. This time she completely broke two of her molars as she tightly clenched her jaws together.

Miraculously, Tara had survived after more than two minutes of continuous current streaming through her body. Not surprisingly, she had lost consciousness and once again slumped limply in the chair, her head drooping sideways.  Once in a while, the blonde’s body twitched involuntarily as residual electrical charges autonomically activated her muscles.  Steam rose from her exposed flesh and a plume of smoke billowed from between her thighs.

Her frustration growing, Alexandra admitted to herself that the electro-torture of Tara’s sex would not be enough to gain her cooperation.  She flipped the switch to retract the metal shaft imbedded in the girl’s vagina.  It slowly descended, once again ripping through Tara’s fragile tissue.  But there was little more damage which could be done.  The extreme heat generated by the powerful current had incinerated virtually all of Tara’s reproductive system. When the rapacious rod finally emerged from her pussy with a sickening squelch, it was covered with blood and the charred, shredded remnants of the girl’s vaginal lining.  Her pudenda had been reduced to the same unrecognizable, gore-covered mass her feet had become less than an hour earlier.

Not even the pain of having the spiked shaft pulled from her sex was enough to revive Tara.  Falling so deeply into unconsciousness was one of the few small mercies which had been granted her since she had been captured.  Yet mercy was in extremely short supply in this warehouse from hell, and the blonde’s respite would be short lived.

Alexandra called on one of her men to remove the torture device from under Tara’s chair.  It had become covered with blood and bits of flesh during the course of the girl’s ordeal, and as a result was now even more difficult to carry than before. Careful not to let the slippery metal slide from his grasp, the man carried it away.  Blood continued to spurt from Tara’s ravaged pussy, forcing Alexandra to once again stem the flow to ensure her victim did not bleed to death prematurely.

This time the hot-plate, the one she had used to cauterize Tara’s stumps following the amputation of her feet, was too large to do the job properly. Instead, Alexandra picked up the propane torch and set it alight.  She sat in front of Tara and moved the blue flame slowly over the gory mass which had once been the source of the girl’s most intimate cravings.  The moist flesh hissed and crackled, and eventually it began to carbonize under the extreme heat. The resulting pain soon resuscitated Tara from her unconscious trance and once again, the warehouse echoed with her piercing, high-pitched shrieks of agony.

"Ohhhh nooo, fuuuck nooo! It burns! It's too hot!" she screamed hysterically. After the long electro-torture session Tara was again able to form understandable words as she expressed her suffering loudly and clearly. Alexandra wondered how her victim could still feel pain in her mangled and incinerated cunt, but obviously there were sufficient nerve endings left intact to cause Tara ongoing anguish. It's not what Alexandra expected, but unlike Tara, this did not bother her in the least.

When the Dragon Lady at last moved the torch away from the blonde’s groin, she could see the one-thousand degree flame had done its work well.  No more blood dripped to the floor under the chair.  The gaping laceration which had once been Tara’s cunt had been transformed into a burnt, blackened mass of dead tissue, a cauterized barrier of meat which neatly contained the gelatinous, mutilated remnants of her internal genitalia. Alexandra wondered what had happened to Tara’s clit, whether it had been completely annihilated or whether it was now fused amidst the globs of destroyed flesh, its nerves forever destined to send signals of pain instead of pleasure.

“Let’s see this masochistic slut have an orgasm, now,” she said to herself, smacking her lips with satisfaction.

In time, Tara’s screaming stopped.  She sobbed pitifully, her eyes barely able to see her obliterated sex by looking down between her deep cleavage.  At least she would never be raped again down there, she thought to herself.  But that was small consolation.  Alexandra stood up and proudly invited some of her men to inspect her handiwork.  A few of them were brave and curious enough to do so.

“Very well done, M’lady,” said Jim, the black man who had enjoyed Tara’s charms earlier that evening.  “But this means we will…  it means we will no longer… we won’t be able to…” He caught himself, and decided not to say what was on his mind for fear of putting his own desires ahead his employer’s.  But Alexandra knew what he was asking.

“You’d still want to fuck this footless tramp?” she asked, making sure Tara could hear her.

“Well she still is quite presentable above the waist,” he replied.  “Her tits are perfect.”

“Unless she cooperates, that will change as well,” Alexandra threatened.  “Believe me, when I’m done with her, you won’t want to touch this bitch, let alone stick your cock in her. But just in case some of you want to ram her later on, I can always recreate her tight little cunt with this…”  Alexandra grinned and lifted a large hunting knife from the tool tray for all to see. “But first, I have other plans.”

On hearing Alexandra’s words, Tara once more lost control of her bladder.  This time however, her sealed urethra forced the urine to expel inside her body, mixing with the decimated entrails in her lower abdomen.

Chapter VII – Manicure From Hell

"We have arrived at the next phase of your interrogation, stupid bitch, so I'll give you another chance to tell me what I want to know. During that last exciting hour, perhaps something jogged your memory?" the elegant torturess asked as she bent over Tara's smoking, charred crotch to examine her handiwork. She inhaled deeply, savored the burnt smell, then grimaced in disgust.

"Don't worry too much about your cunt, bitch. It smells bad, but as it was probably infected to begin with, you should thank me for getting rid of any disease you might have had down there," she said, smiling like a predator. Tara reacted with disbelief and terror.

"How can you...  say this to me? Why don't you just kill me?" she stammered in a trembling voice. Even though her lips and gums were bleeding and her teeth were shattered, Tara's face was still attractive. She was the kind of beauty who in spite of all the horrors and diabolical torments she had endured, maintained her desirability and remained a true turn-on for Alexandra. The more that Tara's body was destroyed, the more the Dragon Lady enjoyed herself, and the more sexually excited she became.

"Is there something wrong with your ears, you masochistic piece of shit? You won't die before you tell me everything I want to know. Oh no. You will sing. And just to make myself perfectly clear, I'll say this again: I fucking love to torture you, so the longer you resist the more fun there is for me." Alexandra turned her attention to Tara’s hands. She pushed the girl's palm onto the chair's armrest and examined her fingers, tapping along the joints and testing her carefully manicured nails by bending the tips slightly.

"First class hands," remarked Alexandra. "So pampered and soft. And real nails – how surprising. Sluts like you normally prefer fake nails, given how you break them while whoring yourself out."

"Fuck you!"

"Ssshh. And your fingers seem well cared for and strong too. That is good news for me, but rather bad for you, I'm afraid. You will soon understand!" Alexandra turned to her men.

"Hang her up, and use the finger chains. It’s about time we tried them out," she ordered and walked back to her throne-like chair to watch the proceedings. Tara was tough, thought Alexandra, but there was no way she could outlast all the creative techniques in her repertoire.

Two identical, odd-looking devices were brought to Tara. Each one consisted of five small, wire loops which could be  tightened once pressure was applied. The five loops ended in chains, each one a different length, and the chains in turn were joined to a knob which had a large metal ring on one side. Two of the men began to apply the strange devices to Tara’s hands. They pinned down her fingers, then laced them one by one through the loops. They positioned the loops at the base of her fingers and tightened them by pulling on the chains until the wires cut into her flesh. They were careful not to break the skin, but pulled the loops tight enough to distend the flesh around her digits. The shortest chains were attached to the loops around Tara's two pinky fingers and each progressively longer chain was secured to the next finger in order.  As a result, the longest chains were attached to the loops on Tara’s thumbs.

The unfortunate girl was observing these preparations with increasing concern. She had no idea what fresh hell Alexandra would force her to endure next, but the thought of something being done to her delicate hands was more than she could bear. She knew she was going to die, and after having her sexual organs completely destroyed, she didn’t want to live anyway. But why did her tormentor have to systematically destroy all that she was most proud of: her feet, her cunt and now her hands? Tara did not understand what would happen next, but she had no doubt that it would be gruesome and nasty.

Alexandra switched on an overhead winch, lowering a pair of ropes with hooks fastened to their ends. The ropes descended until the hooks dangled just above Tara. The two men released the blonde’s arms and forced her hands high above her head. The hooks were pulled through the rings of the knobs on the odd devices on Tara’s hands. The winch was used to draw the ropes higher, painfully stretching Tara’s arms upward.  In an instant, she understood the diabolical purpose of the apparatus. With her suspended body acting as a counterweight, it would exact tremendous force on the chains connected to the finger loops. As the chains to her pinky fingers, were the shortest, her entire weight was being supported by these tiny digits. As the finger rings gouged into her flesh, Tara felt a new wave of intense pain overwhelm her.

"As you’ve likely figured out, bitch, you are being hanged by your fingers.” Alexandra was delighted as Tara gasped in agony. ”Two fingers at a time to be more specific. If you don't move too much, they should be able to hold your weight for a while, but if you start to twist and squirm, the wires will force the rings to cut through to the bone,  literally stripping away the flesh. But you won't fall because the next longest chains will then tighten around the next two fingers.  The process will repeat itself until all your fingers have been skeletonized. It’s my very own design.  Creative, don’t you agree?" The Dragon Lady described her invention proudly as she gulped down a glass of red wine.  After so much hard work, she had become thirsty.

"Of course, I have several ways to ensure you won’t just hang there motionless. If the pain of having your fingers mutilated isn’t enough to make you struggle, I can still use my favorite whips, or I can spray acid on your legs, or I can cover your lower body with chocolate and let our guard dogs play with you.  And then there are all the things I can do with that shapely ass of yours. Even if you stay still, you’ll likely lose all your fingers in about half an hour, but I wouldn't mind if you ’hung in’ there a little longer.  Why don’t you show us what you can do?"

The bonds securing Tara to the torture chair were released and the overhead winch was used to slowly pull up the half-destroyed beauty by her inflamed and swollen pinky fingers. Once she was completely suspended, with the stumps of her legs dangling off the floor, the chair was moved away, leaving poor Tara hanging in mid-air and emitting short, terrified shrieks.

As soon as the entire weight of her body hung from her two little fingers, the wires immediately cut through her soft flesh until they circled the relatively durable bones beneath. Instinctively, Tara knew that even slight movement would aggravate the pressure on her slender fingers with potentially dire results – so she did all she could to hold still. But she also realized the increasing pain would soon make this impossible.

"Hmmm...  that does look painful," said Alexandra as she walked around her strung-up victim, inspecting the devious dilemma the girl faced.  She pushed lightly on Tara's abdomen, causing her to sway back and forth only a few inches.  To Tara, it felt as if someone was ripping apart her two smallest fingers with a large pair of pliers. She could not help but cry out as she felt a sudden stab of pain. She was afraid to look up, but even without seeing the damage being inflicted by the tightening loops, she knew it was severe.  Tara felt streams of blood run down her extended arms, which confirmed that the wire had indeed cut through her skin.

"Please," she begged. "Haven't you done enough?  I can't take anymore...  Please... let me down!"

Alexandra laughed.  "It's good to see that my device works so well, but you haven't really experienced all it can do yet.  No darling... you missed your chance to avoid all this when you denied me the information I want.  Now you must pay the price for your obstinacy."  The heartless Dragon Lady looked up at Tara's hands.  The thin wires were doing their job, but at this rate, it would take far too long to complete the process.  Alexandra wanted results soon, and so she decided to speed things up a bit.

"Lars, Jim... come here."  She called on the two largest and well-muscled of her men.  They joined their boss  next to Tara, grinning broadly at the opportunity to get back in on the action. "My new technique seems to work, but I think it would be even more effective if our big-boobed guest were a little more active. Perhaps you could assist by doing your boxing work-out.  Since you don't have your usual suspended heavy bag, I suggest you use this lovely creature as a handy substitute.  I'm sure she won't mind."

"Noooo," shouted Tara. "I mind... I do mind... really...  god...  please... don't..."

Alexandra ignored her, as did her two beefy henchmen, who were already clenching their fists in anticipation of what was to come.  "But to make this more entertaining," Alexandra added, "use these."  From the tool tray, she took four simple, metal objects and held them up for all to see – two pair of large, menacing brass knuckles.  But these were even more insidious than most.  Along the outer edge of each one, six, half-inch long steel spikes projected like miniature dagger blades.  As if the powerful blows delivered by Lars and Jim were not enough, Tara could also look forward to having her luscious body punctured and torn by these fiendish weapons.

The two men happily put on the brass knuckles, one on each fist.  They swung at the air to test them, their powerful arms making ominous whooshing sounds as they sailed past Tara's hanging torso, missing her by inches. 

Tara could not turn her terrified gaze away from the two sweating, muscular men as they flexed their bulging arms and flashed their metal bedecked fists. Her screams filled the air as the men warmed up their muscles.  Poor Tara could do nothing but kick weakly with her footless legs, wriggling as she reflexively dodged the  blind punches. These movements caused her to swing from the ropes, straining the finger loops until the flesh began ripping from her little fingers. Tara cries grew louder as the pain became too much to bear. Her pitiful, terrified shrieks were so piercing, many of the onlookers had to cover their ears.

"Nooo! My God nooo! Stop! Don't hit me! My God! Help me. Somebody help me! Mercy! Mercy! Merrrcy!" she wailed. Her body kept on swinging, causing the wires to shred enough flesh to reveal some of the delicate, whitish bone of Tara’s imperiled digits. Rivulets of blood trailed from the wounds, across her hands and down her arms.

“Quit your babbling, you big-titted twat.” Alexandra had had enough of Tara’s pathetic pleading. “Nothing can save you now. Maybe if you tell me about Valentino’s smuggling operation, I’ll just cut your tongue out and slit your throat.  Now that would be merciful.  What do you say, cunt?  You’d be dead in ten minutes… fifteen tops – and all the pain will be gone.  Just tell me what I want to know!”

Tara shivered.  She would do anything to stop the pain, but she knew the instant Alexandra was aware of where the Blue Velvet was stashed, any hope of a quick, compassionate death was gone.  Her ample breasts would be ripped to pieces as her captors looked for the shipment hidden inside them.  And then there was Ella… she would have to implicate her lover and consign her to a fate which could be even worse than her own. No, she thought to herself, she would rather endure a beating at the hands of Alexandra’s brutes than betray the only person she cared about.

Not to mention that what already had been done to her would lead to her inevitable death. Tara knew all to well she could not possibly survive, that her once superb body had suffered irreversible damage. Even though she had little knowledge of anatomy, she knew that with her urethra destroyed and seared she would be unable to urinate. Once her bladder filled, it would rupture, flooding her abdomen with her own toxic waste. It would not be a pleasant death, but still, Tara wished for it.  If she died, nobody could hurt her anymore, and no one would find out about  Ella. Her tormentors would bury her corpse and never discover her secret. No, she would not talk.  Instead, she would choose death – and that way she would win. Alexandra would learn nothing about the drug shipments and all the Dragon Lady’s efforts would have been in vain.  If only the bastards would let her die!

Yet what Tara didn’t realize was that almost a third of the Blue Velvet in her tits had already leaked into her body, infusing her with the powerful drug and making her more resistant than ever to the worst of Alexandra’s tortures. It was why she was still conscious, or even alive for that matter. And it was why she would be able to take so much more.  It also gave her the courage to vent her anger when Alexandra refused to show mercy.

“You damned witch,” Tara spat. “I’ll never provide you the satisfaction of surrendering to you.  Give me all you’ve got… I can take it.”  Almost immediately, the foolish girl regretted her words.  Where did they come from?  Why did she think she had to voice her hostility?  She knew it would only make matters worse.  But it already was too late for her to take back her impulsive statements.

The Dragon Lady's eyes widened as she stared at Tara for quite some time. Never had she dealt with such a resistant subject.  Tara’s tenacity was something completely new, unexpected and unexplainable. No victim, neither man or woman, in Alexandra's long and bloody career had displayed such endurance. None had had the willpower of this whore. None had survived this long without breaking. For the first time, Alexandra had doubts. Would this pathetic sex slut cause her to lose face in front of her minions?  How could she have the strength to provoke the very woman who was interrogating her? Certainly she felt pain when she was tortured, but after all that had been done to her, how could she still resist?  Not knowing what else to do,  Alexandra let out a forced laugh, pretending to be entertained by Tara's stubbornness. But she realized her reaction was feeble at best.

"I'm a witch and I may be damned, but it will be you who arrives in hell first, you sick little fuck." Alexandra spat the words at Tara. “Boys…” she turned to Lars and Jim. “You may begin.  Hit her wherever you like, except her face and tits. If she survives this, I want her to still have something worth saving.”

It was Jim who took the first punch, plowing his fist deep into Tara’s stomach.  The brass knuckles gave his swing extra power and the spikes easily ripped into the girl’s soft flesh.

“Mmmmmummffff,” gasped Tara, feeling as if a cannonball had been fired into her midsection. Her body was flung backwards as she twisted in agony, trying to get her breath back.  Blood seeped from the small punctures left by the spikes, compounding the blonde’s pain.  But even before she could recover from the blow, she felt another one tear into her from behind.  Lars, eager to take his first jab, had thrust his fist into Tara’s lower back as she swung towards him.  He hit her just above the ass, the spikes crunching into her spine. The force of the blow propelled her in the opposite direction, back towards Jim.

Aaarrrggh!” she screamed, before being suddenly cut off as Jim landed a crushing wallop just below her right breast, shattering a rib and sending a spray of blood outwards when he withdrew the spiked knuckles.  Tara coughed up some blood and swung back towards Lars.  This time, before the hulking Swede could land his second blow, the girl felt a searing pain radiate from her hands.  The wires around her little fingers could no longer support her weight and had slipped free, literally stripping the flesh off both digits as if removing the fingers of a glove. Amidst sprays of blood, the soft tissue of each finger – the well-kept nails still attached – landed in one piece on the floor under the swinging girl.

“Aaaiiieeeeghh!” shrieked Tara.  Her body jerked slightly, and in an instant she found herself suspended by the wires looping around her ring fingers, the next shortest in the chain.  Alexandra and her men looked on in awe.  The hapless girl’s two smallest fingers were no more than mangled bones covered in gory bits of bloody tissue.  And the next two fingers had already been ensnared by the wires, which once again had cut through to the bone at their base.  As Tara’s beating continued, it would not be much longer before her ring fingers met the same horrific fate as her smallest ones.  Jim quickly focused his attention back to the business at hand and landed a fearsome punch just above Tara’s mutilated pussy.

The horrific scream which followed could hardly be called human. It was not loud, but filled with such agony that even Alexandra's toes curled. Of course for her this was a sign of delight. Unknown to all, Lars’ wicked blow had burst Tara's bladder, causing the stored piss in the organ to pour into her abdominal cavity. The poor girl shook and trembled wildly, causing the wires to stripped half of the flesh from her ring fingers. But the  brutal boxers could hardly have cared less. Punch after punch landed on her body, the hardest ones coming from Lars who repeatedly targeted the fleshy globes of Tara’s perfect ass.

As her sweaty buttocks became a mess of blood-soaked, fatty tissue, Tara's ring fingers were stripped to the bone and torn asunder, leaving her middle fingers next in line to bear her weight. Even though these were the longest and thickest of her digits, they were no match for the powerful punches rocking her body.

After several more blows, the flesh of the battered blonde’s middle fingers was ripped away.  Amidst two more  eruptions of blood, a torn fingernail landed at Alexandra’s feet. The Dragon Lady smiled and squatted down to pick up the bloody remnant. Though crudely severed, the nail was in near perfect condition – not even cracked. Alexandra pocketed it as a souvenir.

Once again Tara’s body lurched, and once again she wailed in anguish as more flesh was stripped from her fingers.  She now hung precariously by her two index fingers, with six digits completely skeletonized by Alexandra’s devious device.  Blood dripped freely from the mangled remnants of the blonde’s hands, and her cries of torment were ample evidence of the pain she was suffering.  But Lars and Jim felt no pity for their weakening victim and continued their relentless pummeling of her curvaceous form.

Jim had done a thorough job of demolishing the front of Tara’s body. From just below her breasts down past her knees, her torso was a bruised and bleeding travesty of what it once was.  Flesh hung in tatters from the countless rents where the spiked brass knuckles had torn into her. Blood dripped unabated to ever-growing puddles on the floor beneath her. Yet as per Alexandra’s orders, Tara’s perfect breasts remained untouched, looking like two fresh peaches surrounded by raw hamburger.

Lars had been no less diligent in laying waste to Tara’s back.  So savage were her wounds that it looked as if the once luscious girl had been attacked by wild animals.  Scores of punctures covered almost every inch of her exposed skin, marring her sinuous torso from her shoulders to her thighs. Ribbons of oozing tissue hung in tatters from the once soft, round globes which had been Tara’s flawless ass.  Just as it did along her front, blood streamed in torrents down her back until it cascaded into the puddles beneath her suspended form.  For most people, the sight would have caused them to turn away in disgust.  For Alexandra and her men, Tara’s naked and brutalized body was a work of art.

The Dragon Lady was in a carnal swoon of bloodlust.  Though she tried to keep any sign of her deviant desires in check, a slight smile and her breathy panting gave her away. She felt an almost irresistible urge to masturbate, to touch herself sexually and satisfy her barbaric urges.  But at this phase of the interrogation, such a display would seem quite indecent. Her men needed to learn how to focus on the work instead of any pleasures the circumstances might provide. As their boss, Alexandra had to set a good example.

"Come on bitch, scream!  Louder you fucking cunt, scream your pretty head off.  I want to hear more!" she shouted, grinning broadly and revealing her true sadistic nature. She listened to Tara’s tortured groans and ordered Lars and Jim to complete this phase of the girl’s interrogation.  “You’ll need to go further,” she said impatiently.  “Using her as a punching bag is probably just getting her off.  Why don’t you get in some batting practice as well?”  The two men smiled.  They had been hoping to raise the stakes a bit themselves, and gladly went off to find a pair of wooden clubs.

Tara had barely a minute to recover from her inexorable beating.  Her body hung limply, head flung back, swaying back and forth as if a slight breeze was blowing through the warehouse. Opening her eyes, she looked up in shock at what was left of her once beautiful hands, the bones projecting like decayed twigs while the wires ensnaring her index fingers already began to strip them of their flesh.  Soon she would be supported only by her thumbs… and then they too would be transformed into gore-covered cartilage.  She sobbed quietly and waited for the next atrocity to unfold.

It did not take long.  Before Tara realized the two brutes had returned, she felt a sudden eruption of pain across her buttocks as Lars smashed a large, hickory bat into her ass with all his might.  She heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones and emitted a feral howl of agony as loud as any of her previous cries.  Seconds later, Tara saw Jim step in front of her and swing his bat into her lower abdomen.  Whatever organs had not already been destroyed by the spiraling, electrified dildo were instantly pulverized by Jim’s powerful blow.  In horror Tara noticed the bats the men were wielding, like the brass knuckles they used earlier, were studded with small, metal projections – more spikes to tear her body asunder.

“Oh… god…  nooooo..” she wailed.  But her words soon transformed into an inarticulate scream as Tara felt the wooden cudgels thump into her soft flesh over and over again.  Lars struck her across the shoulder blades with devastating results.  Jim smashed her ribcage just below the tits. Even her upper arms became targets, with one man striking the right from behind while the other shattered the left from the front.  Both humerus bones were instantly fractured, sending poor Tara into paroxysms of anguish.  As if this were not enough, the wires around her index fingers slipped free, once more peeling the flesh away as they did so. Tara now hung by her thumbs, and given how much she was flailing about while being clubbed, she would not hang much longer.

Jim and Lars were exhausted.  Their shirtless torsos were covered with sweat. After battering the helpless blonde for almost thirty minutes, they decided to step back for a break.  Amazingly, Tara was still hanging by her thumbs, though the tissue around them was badly torn and it was clear that soon these last two digits would succumb like the others.  But for now, she remained suspended, her sexy carcass a mass of lacerated flesh and dripping gore.  Her breasts were untouched of course, but it was hard to tell given the deluge of blood which streamed across those buxom mounds.

Tara whimpered softly while emitting breathy gurgles as blood and stomach fluids welled up in her throat.  The liquids occasionally erupted from between her lips in disgusting globs, only to dribble across her body to meld with the gore which covered it.  Tara may have been more dead than alive, but to Alexandra, all that mattered was that she still lived… and that she was still able to speak.  It looked like she could, but the Dragon Lady had to make sure.

She stepped in front of her victim and waited until the blonde’s eyelids fluttered.  “Talk, you cunt!”

At first, more fluids poured from Tara’s mouth, but she forced herself to respond.  “Fuck… you…” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

“God-damn-it!”  Alexandra could not believe the bitch was still holding out.  In frustration, she grabbed Tara’s breasts, one in each hand, then tightly squeezed her fingers around the soft, malleable tissue.  Tara groaned, but was too weak to resist.  Alexandra pulled downwards, adding to the already considerable weight straining the girl’s thumbs, and with relatively little effort was able to debone the last two digits on her victim’s hands.  The wires slipped free and Tara’s body crashed to the floor, where she landed splayed out on her back.

For a minute, the blonde lay motionless, barely breathing. But as more of the Blue Velvet surged through her body, she began slowly, almost sensuously writhing on the cold stone tiles. Squirming in a puddle of her own blood and gore, Tara looked more like some alien mutant than a human being.  Her feet gone, her sex obliterated and  her skeleton-hands resembling the clawed talons of a vulture, it was hard to imagine her as the perfect woman she had once been.  Still, despite the blood, guts and mutilation, she remained oddly alluring, like some obscene caricature of femininity, one which would appeal especially to sadists and other deviants.

No doubt, such deviants included Alexandra and her men.  They all moved in to stand over their victim, taking a few minutes to savor the arousing scene of her slithering in anguish on the floor.  Once again abandoning Petra, Nazar joined them to get a closer view.

“A very good performance,” he said to Alexandra, “but I see she has still not talked.”

“Perhaps she never will,” replied the Dragon Lady.  It was not like her to admit defeat, but she knew she was  running out of options.

“Well, I see you have been careful to preserve some of the things the bitch cares about,” Nazar offered helpfully.  “Here for instance,” he said, pushing the toe of his boot against Tara’s face.  “And here...”  He stepped on her relatively undamaged chest.  “But perhaps there is something else?”

Alexandra looked confused.  “Like what?  The only thing sluts like this care about are their looks and their tits.  Once I rip off her face and demolish her boobs, it’s over.”

“Unless she cares about someone else.  Perhaps she has a lover?”

“This whore?  A lover?”  Alexandra was incredulous, but she had to admit it was something she had not considered.  “Even if that’s true, how would that help me?”

“By letting her know that if you will not get what you want, the next subject of yours will be the one she loves. For her, perhaps this threat is even worse than death.  Perhaps the fear of exposing her love to the same fate is enough to ensure her cooperation. If so, she will tell you what you wish to know.”

"I have to admit there is truth in your words." The Dragon Lady smiled and looked at the demolished human wreck which had once been the delectable Tara. “And if you are right, my friend,” Alexandra said to Nazar, “I will be happy to provide you with a sizable bonus.”

“Thank-you, Ms. Huang.  I already have an idea of how you might repay me.”  Nazar turned his gaze to the naked Petra, who was still sitting on his couch with a look of ever increasing worry on her face. Alexandra caught his glimpse and nodded knowingly.

"We will see. Now let me plan," she said then walked around the remnants of the beautiful blonde. She stood thoughtfully over the battered figure for a while, then arched an eyebrow and spoke.

“She looks to be disoriented enough... why don’t we give this a try?” She squatted next to Tara’s head. The girl’s eyes were closed and she was moaning pitifully while shivers ran through her bleeding body as if she were freezing. The Dragon Lady reached out and gently cradled Tara’s face between her palms, her long fingers lovingly caressing the girl’s sweat-covered forehead.

“My dear love, come back to me... speak to me,” Alexandra said. Nazar marveled at the sudden change in her tone. Her normally cold and gruff voice instantly became sweet and soothing, like that of a submissive Asian female.

“Tara, my lovely darling, are you awake? Please, say something!” she continued as Tara’s body shuddered noticeably.

“Ella? Ella? Is that you?” Tara’s parched lips opened and whispered the words.

“Yes, my love, it’s me, I found you, I’m with you. You had an accident, but you will be fine, I promise. You were screaming while you slept. Did you have a bad dream? Poor baby,” Alexandra continued softly.

“Hurrrts… everything hurts!” Tara babbled.

“Ssshh. Listen to my voice. Remember when we kissed the first time? How wonderful that was?”

“I was… cleaning you up… those bastards almost… ruptured you… animals… fucking gang rapists. And you were… so grateful… I’ve loved you ever since then…” Tara coughed but continued talking as Alexandra  bent closer to understand her words.

“So do you love your one and only Ella?”

“Forever… ohhh… Ella… I will love you forever…” Tara said with sudden passion.  Alexandra watched the girl’s eyes pop open and felt her begin to writhe. Tara was delirious but started to regain her senses.  Alexandra did not have too much time left.

“Baby. you need to tell me something important. They will hurt me if you don’t help. Where is the Blue Velvet? Where did you hide… FUCK!” Alexandra shouted and yanked her hand away from Tara’s face. The blonde had bitten her and blood leaked from the tiny wound. “You fucking animal! You will regret this!” Alexandra hissed in her coldest voice, the Ella-imitating kindness gone in an instant.

“You lied to me! You fucking cunt! You’re not Ella!” Tara screamed and bucked on the floor, unable to control her movements without feet and hands.

“Yes, I did,” Alexandra said in a sinister voice. She held her hand to her mouth and licked the wound. “But  now I know your lover’s name. Once I find her,  I promise you... this slut of yours will suffer ten times more than you did!” Alexandra’s hate-filled eyes glared at Tara’s ravaged torso.

“You can’t do this…” Tara protested weakly and tried to support her upper body on her arms. Her bloody and useless limbs couldn’t hold her weight and she collapsed onto her back.

“You of all people know what I am capable of. And I will do anything to get what I want. Mark my words, bitch!”

Alexandra turned to her men.  “Prepare her for some chest calisthenics," Alexandra commanded. But her men just stood motionless, having no clue what she was talking about. The Dragon Lady whistled between her teeth and spoke directly to Lars.

"The table! Bring the fucking tit-vice," she explained angrily. This time the thugs understood.  They smiled and did as instructed.

Chapter VIII – Mammary Mutilation

A solid table of thick, rough-hewn wood was dragged into the center of the warehouse. Like the torture chair, it resembled oversized furniture from the middle ages. It looked like a typical four-legged antique except for the strange accessory mounted on its surface. Two vertical metal rods about a metre and a half apart rose up a half metre from the table top. These rods were threaded like oversized bolts. A flat metal bar, about five centimetres wide, connected the rods along the top.  The bar was held in place by screws running up and down the threaded rods. By twisting the screws the bar could be raised or lowered, the rods acting as rails along which it moved.

Moaning pitifully, Tara was lifted from the ground by two men who balanced her on a backless chair. As the chair offered no support, something else was needed to keep the girl upright.  A thirty centimetre post, resembling the end of a small baseball bat rose up from the seat of the chair. With Tara's cunt forever sealed, the men roughly pushed the wide end of the projection against the girl's bleeding anus. Despite her gurgling protests, Tara was pushed down, forcing the phallic pole into her battered sphincter and splitting her bowels. Tara flailed about, but her struggles proved useless. Soon the full length of the projection was inside her, leaving her impaled and securely mounted on the chair.

"This is the throne of queens,” mocked one of the men as Tara gasped. “Ass queens! Only the loosest bitches can take that club up their intestines without being ripped apart."  With the wooden pole keeping her upright, they forced her body forward until her large tits were placed directly under the horizontal bar. The men began to twist the screws downward, slowly lowering the bar until it made contact with the tops of Tara's remarkable breasts.

The men twisted the screws still further, causing the bar to push down on Tara's tits, eventually forcing the soft flesh of her bosom to compress.  The base of her breasts flattened awkwardly as the trapped globes seemed to enlarge like balloons being inflated. Her pliant glands were no match for the rigid metal bar and were easily crushed as the men continued turning the screws. Tortured whines escaped from Tara's throat as her luscious tits were squashed against the table top.

As the pressure increased, the already large spheres of flesh were forced to bulge outward. First they turned red, then after a few minutes to blue, and finally a sickly shade of dark purple. The skin on their surface was stretched so tight that it became unusually smooth and  shiny. Sweat oozed from her pores, making the breasts glisten even more. Tara desperately kicked with her broken, footless legs , but only managed to knock them painfully against the underside of the table while tearing herself further on the wooden pole inside her rectum.  She soon gave up her futile struggles and forced herself to remain still despite the agony coursing through her tortured chest.

But it was too much to bear. As the bar continued its relentless journey downward, Tara reached towards her distended tits with the skeletal remnants of her hands.  Not pleased with their victim’s efforts to ease her pain, the two men stopped turning the screws for a moment and used hammers to land repeated blows to the girl’s elbows. Tara's screams were soon followed by ghastly crunching sounds as her bones were smashed to kindling.  Tara’s arms fell to her sides where they hung uselessly like wet noodles. No further flailing was expected.

Eventually, the metal bar was just a few centimetres from the table top. It could be brought down no further. Tara’s bounteous breasts had swollen to almost twice their already copious size and seemed ready to burst apart.

With the blonde’s tits firmly secured, Alexandra sat at the other side of the table, facing her victim. She sorted through a selection of tools which had been placed on the table top: scalpels, knives, scissors, hypodermic needles, small flasks with labels like "pepper spray" or "H2SO4" along with a few small power tools and a soldering iron.  All these were lined up in front of Tara’s ensnared mammaries while Alexandra hummed and hawed over which one to use first.  Tara shook her head in disbelief.

“Please no,” she begged in a barely audible whisper. “Just kill me...”

Alexandra ignored her.  "We are ready, darling. This is going to be our last conversation. Unlike before, I’ll listen to whatever you tell me whenever you like. But now I have two questions. First, I still want to know how you and your friends smuggle the Blue Velvet into the country.  But now that I know about this bitch called Ella, I also want you to tell me where I can find her.  Not until I have this information will your suffering end.  Of that you can be sure.”  Alexandra spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, letting her fingers caress the smooth, moist skin of Tara’s crushed udders.  "Now then...  how should we begin?"

The hapless blonde shuddered as she felt one of the Dragon Lady’s long, sharp fingernails trace a line along the top of her left breast, eventually coming to rest against her engorged nipple.  Alexandra noticed a thin trickle of blood leaking from the tip of the ruddy, pink bud.  She  closed her thumb and forefinger around the spongy nub of flesh and squeezed.  More blood erupted, squirting dangerously close to Alexandra’s clothing.  Tara groaned.

“Yech!” Alexandra exclaimed. “The bitch is ejaculating.”  She laughed as she pulled and twisted Tara’s delicate nipple with increasing pressure. With each tug, a small jet of crimson liquid spurted from Tara’s tit, much to the amusement of her tormentor, who obviously enjoyed adding to her victim’s suffering and shame.  After a while, the blood seemed to become more diluted, its colour becoming more pinkish than red.

“What’s this?”  said Alexandra.  “It looks like....  well, I’ll be damned...  it’s milk.”  She laughed out loud, and called over her men for a closer look.  Nazar and some of the others stepped up to witness the curious spectacle.

“She’s giving up milk, just like the stupid cow she is!”  said one of them.  “Someone should get a tiny bucket so we can draw cream for our morning coffee.”   This caused the onlookers to laugh uproariously.  Despite being in the throes of inconceivable pain, Tara was overcome by humiliation.  It was bad enough to be tortured in front of these animals, but now she also had been reduced to little more than a source of ridicule.

Yet to no one’s knowledge, not even Tara’s, Alexandra’s taunts were unfounded.  The girl was not lactating, as they all assumed.  It was not milk that was leaking from her squashed melons, but rather it was the very thing Alexandra was looking for: the Blue Velvet.  With Tara’s punctured implants already releasing their contents, the added pressure of the breast vice was squeezing the drug out more quickly. The tiny openings which were meant to release milk from her glands, now served to eject not only the trapped blood in her tits, but also the contraband substance.

Despite its name, Blue Velvet was in fact not blue at all. It was a white powder in its base form, and was almost undetectable visually when dissolved in liquid.  As the fluid in Tara's implants was clear, the diluted drug did no more than make the contents of each pouch somewhat cloudy, resembling breast milk. But no one would have suspected the liquid dribbling from the blonde's tits was anything else.  Not even Alexandra’s devious mind could guess it.

As more fluids sprayed out from Tara’s nipples, puddles of the rose coloured secretions spread out on the table.  “The sloppy cunt is making a real mess,” said Alexandra in mock disgust. “I think we need to do something about this.”  She pulled a chisel-tipped soldering iron from its holder and noted with satisfaction that it had already been heated to its maximum setting.  “Time to turn off the twat’s taps.”

"Noooo!!!" screamed Tara as she felt Alexandra press the blistering metal against the sensitive nodule crowning her right breast.  There was a long, crackling hiss as the long-suffering girl was again burned by her tormentors.  The smell of roasted meat filled the air as the iron was held against the tip of Tara's tit for over a minute.  At last, the Dragon Lady moved the tool away, along with a good amount of her victim's melted flesh.  Long strings of fatty tissue pulled like taffy from the gory wound before snapping apart when Alexandra gave the iron a quick tug.  Nothing remained of Tara's nipple except a bloody crater of oozing  slime.

"That seems to have stemmed the flow a bit," said Alexandra while inspecting her handiwork.  "But more importantly, I'll bet it hurt like hell, didn't it bitch?"

Tara looked pleadingly into Alexandra's eyes.  "Stop…  mercy…" she whispered.  "I'll never talk, so why go on?  It's… it's… pointless."  She choked on her own blood then coughed it up and let it stream from her lips.  "Why torture me if you know it won't help you?"

"Perhaps because I enjoy it," replied Alexandra helpfully, then pushed the scorching iron against Tara's left nipple.  If anything, the blonde's wails of anguish grew even louder as her punishment was repeated.  Soon both the fleshy buds were no more, savagely incinerated by the Asian sadist with nary a second thought.  Tara sobbed not only from the pain, but from the realization that her last source of sexual pleasure had been obliterated.  Now she was little more than a receptacle for pain.

And with almost two thirds of the Blue Velvet shipment coursing through her veins, that pain would be beyond anything imaginable.  With the last of her libidinous urges crushed as surely as her oversized boobs, unrelenting agony is all she would be able to feel.  And the drug not only ensured that these sensations would be amplified many times over, it would keep her from slipping into the unconsciousness or death by fortifying her stamina to almost superhuman levels.

"Onwards," announced Alexandra, picking up a handful of steel skewers from the table.  Each of the metal rods was about half the width of a pencil, but almost forty centimetres long with a needle-sharp point at one end and a small haft at the other.  Holding one of the skewers by the haft, Alexandra position the spiked end against the side of Tara's left breast, then slowly pushed it into the girl's soft, spongy flesh.  The blonde's tightly stretched skin burst with a satisfying pop and the same diluted blood which had flowed from her nipples streamed from the puncture.

"Gaaaarrrggghhh," gurgled Tara as more pain swamped her shredded nerves. The steel skewer tore through her mashed mammary with almost no resistance, emerging seconds later in a bloody spray from the opposite side.  The girl's eyes looked ahead in a daze, as if she could no longer focus on her adversary. 

Alexandra held up another spiked rod.  "I have two dozen of these," she said matter-of-factly.  "Do you want to talk, or would you prefer to have each and every one stuffed into those over-inflated hooters?"

"I…  nooo…  d… don't…"  Tara's voice was fading, and despite her trapped bosom, she rocked slightly to and fro on her ass-impaling perch.  "C… c… can't…"  she stuttered.  Within moments, Alexandra had thrust the second skewer through Tara's other tit, leaving her panting but as obstinate as ever.  The Dragon Lady shook her head and plunged a third skewer into the top of Tara's right globe, pushing it down until its tip jammed into the table top.

And so it continued.  Alexandra methodically drove one metal rod after another through Tara's crushed melons, sometimes alternating between them, sometimes perforating the same one two or three times in succession. Not knowing where the next spike would penetrate contributed to Tara's considerable terror.  Initially, the pain was less than that of other tortures the unfortunate girl had endured, but the insidious element of this ongoing assault on her breasts was the slow accumulation of agony which built as more and more of the lances pierced her sensitive jugs.

By the time Alexandra finally ran out of skewers, Tara's tits looked like two oversized pin-cushions, each one speared by twelve steel rods and bleeding from two dozen puncture wounds.  Instinctively, Tara twisted her body against the vice which ensnared her bulging breasts, but this just resulted in additional pain and caused the metal skewers to clink against each other.  Exhausted, she let her head fall forward, pushing aside several of the metal spears and leaving her jaw pressed against her cleavage.

But still, she did not talk. Even when Alexandra twisted the skewers back and forth to cause the girl further anguish, she refused to respond.  When the cruel Asian woman began viciously yanking out the rods one by one, Tara shrieked with new-found energy, but did not say a word to save herself.  Instead, she endured the ever-increasing paroxysms of pain, silently praying for death to claim her.  Thanks to the drugs in her body, her prayers went unanswered, leaving nothing for her to do but suffer.

With all the skewers withdrawn, Tara's lovely bosom was criss-crossed with Blue Velvet-laced blood which poured from the numerous perforations in her tits.  Large puddles of the oddly tinged fluid had formed on the table and streamed over the edges onto the floor. Alexandra had to step aside quickly to avoid getting her shoes splattered.  Angrily, she picked up a wooden mallet and smashed it across Tara's face, instantly breaking her jaw.

"You cunt!" Alexandra exclaimed. "You almost wrecked my Louboutins.  Watch where you bleed, you inconsiderate whore."  As if to emphasize her fury, she whacked the mallet down on one of the blonde's bleeding breasts, leaving the meaty mammary to deform briefly, then jiggle back into shape.  Ironically, this caused more blood to spray upwards and splatter across the Dragon Lady's face and cleavage, staining her expensive cheongsam dress as well.  In a rage, Alexandra pounded the mallet into Tara's other breast, not caring whether she would be pelted with even more of her victim's fluids.  Sure enough, another geyser of reddish gore erupted from Tara's tit and added to the accumulation on Alexandra's head and shoulders.

The poor girl's howls of agony filled the air, and even the hardened killers watching this sordid display were somewhat taken aback.  Many feared that their boss had finally snapped.  Like a blood-soaked, female Moloch, Alexandra stood over her swooning victim, preparing to continue the mallet assault on the girl's badly maimed melons.  She raised the wooden hammer high, but just as she was about to bring it down, she stopped in mid-swing, struck by a sudden realization.

As the men looked on in fascination, Alexandra lowered the mallet to her side. She stood motionless, looking off into the distance. Those close to her could see her lick her tongue across her blood-spattered lips, drawing some of Tara's juices into her mouth.  She pursed her lips and stared intently, as if sampling a fine wine.  After ten seconds, she spat out the contents of her mouth, grimaced briefly, then smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Well fuck me," Alexandra said to herself, then looked over the attendant onlookers. "Gentlemen, I believe we have the answer to at least one of our questions."  As the others furrowed their brows in confusion, the Dragon Lady put down the mallet and picked up two large butcher knives, each sporting a twenty centimetre, steel blade.  No longer caring whether she stained her shoes, Alexandra stood in front of Tara and looked down at the blonde's throbbing breasts as they lay like two raw roasts on the table top. With one knife in each hand, Alexandra raised them both high, like a matador preparing to lance a bull.

The men gasped as their leader plunged the knives downward, thrusting one in each of Tara's tits, impaling the fleshy globes to the table.  As the girl yowled like never before, Alexandra pulled the blades forward, the sharp edges cutting away from her victim.  With relatively little effort, she sliced lengthwise through Tara's once lovely breasts, bisecting them from their base to where the nipples once were.

"Yeeeeeeaaaaagghhhh!!!" shrieked Tara until she ran out of breath and started gasping for air.  Alexandra ignored the girl's cries and pulled the knives from the remnants of the blonde's tits.  With unbelievable savagery, she threw the implements aside and reached into the blood-spewing hunk of meat which had been Tara's left udder.  Alexandra pulled the tissue apart until she found what she was looking for.  From the unrecognizable mass of flesh, the Dragon Lady wrenched the punctured, partially empty pouch which had been one of the girl's implants. She then burrowed into the girl's butchered right breast to retrieve the second sac.

Alexandra raised the gore covered objects high so all could see them.  At first, many of the men thought their boss had ripped Tara's lungs from her chest, but since the girl still was able to jerk about wildly while alternately wheezing and crying out in pain, this could not have been the case.  Soon they all realized what Alexandra was holding up.  She stood proudly and beamed as if she had just won Olympic gold.

"These contained the Blue Velvet!" she announced triumphantly, then threw the bloody implants at Tara, striking her in the face and chest. Tara did her best to free herself by pulling her destroyed breasts from the vice-like contraption, but the crushing bar held them fast.  The girl struggled with so much force that she broke off the wooden dildo imbedded in her rectum.  The chair slid out from under her and Tara fell forward, her charred stumps sliding uselessly on the bloody floor and her skeletal hands providing no support at all.  Unable to stand or kneel, she was left hanging awkwardly from her trapped tits, which continued to spurt blood and gore in all directions.

"You blundering fool," Alexandra laughed as she watched Tara's clumsy efforts to free herself.  "You've got to be the most inept courier in history.  I suppose hiding the drug in your tits wasn't you're idea – that was pretty ingenious and way beyond your feeble intellect – but thinking that we wouldn't find out… how damn stupid can you be?"

"How… how did you know?" Tara sobbed as she drooped from the remnants of her ensnared boobs, her skinned fingers clawing pathetically at the edge of table.

"Blue Velvet has a very distinct citrus taste.  It even smells lemony.  Since you were kind enough to spray some of your tit juices on my face, it didn't take me long to figure things out." Alexandra gave a self-satisfied smirk.  Not only had she finally beaten her slutty captive, she'd also impressed her men, all of whom nodded in admiration at her skills as an interrogator. "By the way, darling… it's never a good idea to smuggle anything inside your body, especially a highly potent drug.  But I suppose Valentino never gave you much choice.  And he wouldn't give a rat's ass knowing that the stuff has completely permeated your system.  Well… other than losing the revenue it would have brought in, I suppose."

"Please," Tara begged. "You've got what you wanted… now just…  just kill me quickly.  I've told you everything I know."

"Not quite everything," corrected Alexandra.  "This bitch… Ella… she is your partner is she not?  We can use her to get at Valentino – to bring him down once and for all.  I want to know where I can find her."

"No…  she's innocent!  I can't betray her," Tara pleaded. Tears streamed down her face. "I…  I will help you.  I'll help you nail that bastard.  He's the one who got me into this mess." The blonde girl choked out the words, trying to show her disdain for Valentino and divert her captor's attention away from Ella.  Tara was not very convincing.

"You?" Alexandra exclaimed in astonishment. "You'll be lucky to live through the night.  How the fucking hell could you help us shut down Valentino?  You've got no feet… no hands… shit – even your cunt and tits are destroyed. You're nothing but dog food now."

"I…  I know things…" Tara was desperate. The pain was overwhelming but she fought to stay conscious and croaked out anything she could think of to entice the Dragon Lady.  "I know… some of Valentino's hide-outs… contacts… passwords... codes…"

Alexandra was not impressed. "I'm sure your precious Ella can tell me all that too, and as I expect she will prove very cooperative when we show her your sorry corpse, she will assist us as an able-bodied accomplice. Now tell us where we can find her, and if she proves to be more accommodating than you, I promise that no harm will come to her.  If you don't talk, we will be forced to track her down ourselves, but make no mistake, we still will find her. However, if I am angry because your stubbornness caused me extra effort, her abduction will be far less… gentle."

Tara's mind was reeling.  It was clear there was nothing she could do to keep Ella safe from this evil witch.  Alexandra held all the cards, and though Tara knew her dark-haired adversary could not be trusted, she also knew she had no choice.  She held off a little longer, but soon a new wave of agony cascaded through her torso.  She felt as if her entire bosom was about to be ripped from her sternum, and she could hold on no longer.

"128 Miramar…  Unit 5," Tara gasped.  "Now… help… me…"

Alexandra motioned to Lars, who walked to the table and reversed the screws so the dreadful bar could be raised.  The shredded mounds of bloody, torn flesh which had been Tara's beautiful breasts slipped out of the vice, and with nothing left to support her, the girl crashed to the floor.  Barely conscious, she sprawled limply on her back like some once resplendent bird which had been blown to pieces in a hail of buckshot.  Tara was not quite dead yet, but she was ready to complete her harrowing journey to oblivion.

Chapter IX – Merciless Farewell

"Seems we have finished here," said Alexandra as she washed her gore-covered hands in a basin full of soapy, warm water. It took a long while for her to wipe all the blood and tissue fragments from her delicate fingers but finally all the putrid matter had been removed.

Tara was more dead than alive, but even with the Blue Velvet coursing through her body, it was obvious the wrecked slut had only a few hours to live.  If her extensive external trauma and blood loss did not kill her, her internal injuries would certainly get the job done.  Not only had she suffered numerous broken bones and collapsed organs, her burst bladder had flooded her abdomen with toxic waste.  With the snapped wooden rod stuffed up her bowels, it would not be long before the backed up excrement in her intestines would leak out as well.

"You see?" said Alexandra. "In the end I got what I needed to know, so all your fucking heroism was for nothing. You disgusting bitch… you really pissed off the wrong person."  Alexandra leaned over the supine blonde and spat between Tara's eyes, not only to emphasize her words, but to show how much she loathed her failed enemy. Given her condition, Tara could hardly have cared less. She barely flinched.  Instead, she moaned, babbled and whined as if she had lost her sanity, her mind overcome with thoughts of how her perfect breasts had been destroyed.

"In the end, all you did was waste a lot of my time," Alexandra continued.  She looked at her watch and noticed it was five thirty in the morning. "On the other hand, you gave a great performance and  it was a real pleasure to work on you. I must commend you, and thank you for being such an entertaining subject. To show my gratitude, I'll ensure your execution is a fitting climax to the many ordeals you have suffered – your death will be just as impressive as the many tortures you have endured, perhaps even more so."

"No… " Tara whispered. "You… you promised… I would die...  quickly."

"Hardly," said Alexandra. In fact she had made no such promise. "A quick death?  For you?  After all the trouble you've caused, why would I do such a thing?  And where would the fun in that be?"  The men all nodded.  They wanted the final act of Tara's slow demise to be the most exciting event of all.  None of them cared to see the blonde beauty expire painlessly.

"No my dear, you will be finished while trapped in a most ingenious device, another invention of mine."  Following Alexandra's instructions, the men rolled in the apparatus from a corner of the warehouse. It was quite large, consisting of a glass cylinder two metres high resting on a thick pedestal.  Along the inside of the cylinder at half metre increments were a series of metal rings, circular bars attached to the inner surface of the glass.  These rings were connected by wires which originated at the foundation of the device. 

Projecting upward from the pedestal and rising in the exact centre of the cylinder was a gleaming metal stake, thick and fearsome looking and almost a metre high. At its base, it was connected to a pneumatic mechanism which served to control its height. At the top of the cylinder, it was covered by a flat lid with a hole in its centre. A high voltage electric cord was pulled from the machine and plugged into a socket on a nearby pillar.  One of the men opened the side of the cylinder, which functioned as a transparent door and allowed access to the rings and stake inside.  Clearly, this bizarre contraption was meant to be occupied by an ill-fated victim.

"I call it a cunt sauna," said Alexandra proudly.  "But as you will soon discover, it does much more than just make you sweat. It is actually considerably more agonizing than you might guess… I can set it to prolong a victim's suffering for minutes, even hours – and it's all automatic.  For you I will let the lengthiest program run. It may take you over two hours to die. You really challenged me tonight, and I think it's only fair that I return the favor."

"Ghhh… go… to… hell…" sputtered Tara almost inaudibly.  Although Alexandra wasn't sure whether the dying girl understood the detailed description of the cunt sauna, she was glad to see Tara was clearly distressed by what was in store for her.

Two men grabbed the blonde by her broken arms and pulled her off the floor.  They dragged her to Alexandra's devious device and easily positioned her flaccid body over the stake.  They had intended on mounting the girl on the thick pole, impaling her upright by jamming it in either her pussy or her ass.  But with Tara's cunt incinerated shut and the wooden club buried in her ass blocking the way, they were suddenly baffled.  They looked helplessly at their boss and shrugged their shoulders.

Alexandra rolled her eyes. "Come, come boys," she scolded them.  "I'm sure you can come up with a creative solution."  She pointed at the butcher knives she had discarded after slashing through Tara's tits and gave the men a wink. As one of the thugs held the blonde upright, the other retrieved one of the knives and returned to their victim.  He knew exactly what the Dragon Lady had in mind. He kneeled down and held the blade upright, the sharp point pushing against the narrow ridge between Tara's punctured anus and fused vagina. He looked up at the tottering girl; it seemed she barely knew what was going on.

With a savage thrust, the man wielding the knife shoved it upwards, pushing the full length of the blade deep into Tara's lower abdomen.  He twisted the blade and sliced the sharp edge up and down in several directions, slowly carving out a ragged tunnel in Tara's flesh. Blood poured from between the girl's legs in torrents, and when the knife was finally withdrawn, a disgusting deluge of piss, shit and other vile fluids cascaded from the wound.  Despite her weakened state, Tara managed yet another deafening shriek before collapsing in the second man's arms and babbling incoherently.

With most of her internal anatomy already destroyed, the brutal assault to the girl's nether regions could have done little to add to the damage, but from a practical standpoint, tearing her a new orifice at the exact centre of her groin proved most convenient.  Tara was lifted and lowered onto the stake, the thickening metal easily sliding into the bloody cavern gouged between her legs. More than thirty centimetres of the pole impaled her before her compressed entrails finally blocked it. The stake was not pointed enough to puncture her internal organs as its purpose was to hold the subject in place, not to kill her.

Once Tara was mounted and secured, the men switched on the pneumatic mechanism and turned a dial. This raised the stake, forcing Tara to ascend until her head was sticking through the hole in the lid which covered the top of the cylinder. A rubber collar was closed around her neck just above her shoulders, creating an air-tight seal.  Once the rounded glass door was closed, Tara's badly maimed but still shapely body was entrapped in the hermitically sealed cylinder, painfully skewered on the metal spike.  The unfortunate girl's head emerged from the top of the device, looking as if it was no longer attached to her torso – but sadly for her, it was.

One of the men climbed a ladder and injected two needles into the sides of Tara's neck strapping them against her skin with duct tape. Next, two bags of transparent liquid were hung from standing hooks and connected to the needles by plastic tubes like a medical intravenous drip. 

"You are being injected with a mixture of water, minerals and stimulants," said Alexandra, still wondering whether Tara had any understanding of what was happening to her. "We need to prevent you from losing consciousness or dehydrating too soon. We want to be able to enjoy the show as long as possible, and of course that means you must be able to do so, too… though perhaps it is too much to expect you to enjoy it."

At last, the preparations for Tara's final ordeal were in place.

But Alexandra remembered there was one more thing she needed to attend to.  Curving her long index finger, she invited Nazar to join her on some comfortable lounge chairs which had been moved in front of the cunt sauna machine. She also waved towards Petra, and another man dragged the terrified blonde over by her long hair.  Alexandra and Nazar reclined on the cushiony chairs and looked up at the shivering, whimpering body of Tara which was obscenely mounted in the glass cylinder.

"Your hint proved to be very useful," said Alexandra to the man she had hired, "even though I believe the bitch would have told me what I wanted to know in the end. Nonetheless, as you have performed an excellent job so far Mr. Nazar, I must be good to my word and reward your efforts."

"Thank-you, Ms. Huang," Nazar smiled appreciatively.  He narrowed his eyes and looked at Petra, who was forced to kneel naked between himself and Alexandra.

"For your services, I will transfer this slut's life to you."  Alexandra nodded at Petra, who grimaced and shivered, but did not respond. "Do whatever you want with her.  And if necessary, we will cover her disappearance should you choose to partake of activities which… well, let's just say we will handle any loose ends.  Just remember to leave us her corpse so we can stage some kind of… 'accident'"  Alexandra winked at Nazar, who nodded that he understood.  On hearing Alexandra's words, Petra almost fainted.  Tears ran down her cheeks and a thin trickle of piss streamed along the inside of her legs.  Never before had she been so terrified.

"And you..." Alexandra turned towards the trembling, sobbing Petra, "... your performance this evening was appalling.  You might have a cute face and a fantastic body, but otherwise you are completely useless. I know how frightened you must be after all you have seen here, and I can assure you that you have good reason to be afraid."

Alexandra grabbed Petra's hair and twisted her head so she was forced to look up at Tara.  The Dragon Lady ordered her to keep her eyes open. "Now I will show you how I deal with useless cunts. You will first witness what happens to this stubborn slut, then the gentleman who you so badly serviced will decide your fate." Alexandra spat at Petra in disgust, adding saliva to the tears and sperm which already covered the girl's face.

"And now… let the show begin," Alexandra commanded. "Switch on the long program: 'slow roasting'. This has been an exhausting night and I want to relax a bit while I enjoy the grand finale." She settled back in the huge armchair and made herself comfortable.  Alexandra expected Tara's demise to be very entertaining despite the fact that the blonde's gruesome ordeals had already brought her to the brink of death.  The massive dose of stimulants the girl had received, not to mention the Blue Velvet which virtually permeated her body, would ensure her execution would provide the spectacle Alexandra craved.

Though at the moment her victim slumped motionless, skewered like a crippled zombie on the stake thrust inside her, Alexandra knew the cunt sauna would revive even the most depleted subject.  The machine would ensure Tara would not go quietly into that good night.  It would only be a matter of time – and as it happened, Alexandra did not have long to wait.

For a few treasured minutes, Tara thought she had died.  Her doped-up body was temporarily numb to the otherwise intolerable pain, and her mind was all but shattered by the abominable interrogation she had endured.  And then there was the strange, soothing warmth which seemed to envelope her like a soft, sensual shroud.  It was as if the horrors of the real world were drifting away and fading into a distant haze, only to be replaced by the welcome vacuum of oblivion. "I am on my way to heaven," thought Tara to herself as the warmth grew more apparent.  Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Alexandra scowled as she watched the girl's blissful face as it poked through the top of the cylinder, eyes closed and a slight smile on her lips,.  The Dragon Lady did no want Tara to enjoy even a moment's respite, and the thought of her not suffering was most annoying.  But just as she was considering speeding up the program, Tara's brief reverie came to an abrupt halt.  The blonde's eyes fluttered wide open, and the beatific smile was replaced with a grimace.

"Oh… god…  noooo…" Tara gasped as she regained awareness of her harrowing circumstances. The stimulants combined with the Blue Velvet to jolt her nervous system with a frenzied wave of panic and terror.  Instantly, every nerve in her body exploded with paroxysms of agony and the massive trauma she had endured seemed to combine into one boundless sphere of torment.  The spike driven into her lower abdomen radiated pain in all directions, serving both the practical purpose of supporting her torso in the cylinder as well as adding to her extraordinary anguish.

And then, Tara's suffering grew worse.  The metal rings which circled the inside of the cylinder at regular intervals were heating up quickly, and soon the gentle warmth which Tara had enjoyed just a few minutes earlier was transforming into something far less pleasant. Though the girl could not see inside the cylinder to watch the rings slowly change colour, it did not take her long to figure out what was happening.  Nazar and Alexandra, on the other hand, had a perfect view through the glass.  They grinned expectantly as they noticed the metal take on a slight reddish hue.

"Now you know why I call it a cunt sauna," Alexandra said, leaving no doubt in Tara's mind what was in store for her.  "They say saunas are actually good for your health… but somehow, I don't think that is true for this particular model."  Both Nazar and the Dragon Lady laughed.  Petra knelt between them, her expression a mask of dread.  Yet she was too terrified to take her eyes off the horrific scene.

"Pl… please…  anything… I'll do anything… but not… not this!"  Tara pleaded as she felt the sudden rise in temperature.  A thermometer mounted inside the cylinder indicated fifty degrees centigrade.  Alexandra made sure to share this information with the girl so that Tara realized the sauna was just beginning to warm up.  As an experienced sadist, Alexandra knew anticipation of pain was sometimes greater than the actual pain itself.  But this time… she guessed perhaps not.  How could anything compare to being roasted alive?  What could possibly be worse than this?

Alexandra smiled.  She knew that any torture, no matter how agonizing and extreme, could always be made worse.  Tara had endured torments beyond anything she could have imagined, and now she was going to expire in a hellish inferno of pain, but still, Alexandra could add more.  Figuratively speaking, the knife could be twisted one more time. As Tara writhed on her perch, Alexandra spoke to her for the last time.

“I do so hope you are enjoying your spa treatment,” she began.  “I reserve this special therapy for only the most deserving girls.  That’s why it’s called the cunt sauna.  It’s only for cunts... and you, my pretty blonde bitch, are most certainly a cunt.  But sadly, in a very short while you will be a dead cunt.  And when you finally croak, that’s the end of my entertainment.  What will I do to amuse myself then?  And my men... what will they do for fun?  You can’t find the sort of diversions we enjoy on television, you know.”

“Wh...  what are... y...  you t... talking a... bout...”  Tara’s voice was shallow.  The heat made it difficult for her to breathe and the pain impeded her concentration. She swooned as she tried to make sense of Alexandra’s words.  “Y...  you’ve already d... destroyed me.  What more d... do you w... want?”

“Another plaything of course,” Alexandra said with a laugh.  “Another victim to perform for us... just the way you have.”  She paused, wondering if now her meaning would become clear to the dying blonde.  Tara still looked confused, so Alexandra decided to be more direct – much more direct.  “It’s Ella, you dumb slut... you’re precious lesbo lover.  Once we have her, we’ll make sure she gets to experience everything you have... and more!  I just thought you’d like to know that while you’re being baked alive.”

“But you... you s... said... you wouldn’t h... harm...  harm her...” Tara felt her heart shatter.  She had foolishly bargained with this wicked she-devil and lost everything, even that which she cherished most.  All her suffering, her attempts to hold out on her tormentor and to spare Ella such a terrible fate had been in vain.  She had been tricked... and now she would die knowing that even after she was gone, her beloved Ella would face Alexandra’s wrath.  It was more than Tara could bear, but as always, there was nothing she could do.  The Dragon Lady had completely crushed her, both physically and psychologically.  “Oh...  g... god no...” She choked out the words, then stared blankly ahead in silence.

“It’s not my fault you’re a gullible twat,” said Alexandra. “I must admit, you did hold out rather well for such a brainless, bubble-boobed bimbo, but in the end, you never had a chance.  And now it’s time for us to sit back and watch as you make your grand exit.  Your performance has been most enjoyable so far.  I’m sure you won’t disappoint us.”

As Alexandra had hoped, her formerly lethargic victim began to react quite noticeably as the heat continued to rise.  Tara's mutilated, blood-covered torso writhed seductively on the stake. Her skin, where it was still visible, was soon dripping with perspiration.  Her face, still relatively untouched, also glistened with sweat and her thick blond hair became matted to her scalp.  As the temperature approached sixty degrees, the girl's breath became more laboured, and her struggles increased.  Blood and bits of fatty tissue dripped down along the stake as the hole in her groin was torn wider, but because Tara's neck was trapped by the aperture in the cylinder’s cover, she did not slide further down the pole.

"Aaaaaaaiiiieeegh!!" she cried as the pain increased.  "Kill meeeeee!!!"  Soon the temperature was over seventy and the metal rings glowed bright red. The girl's skin took on the colour of a bad sunburn, then slowly faded to every deepening shades of brown.  Tara’s punishment was slow, as Alexandra intended, and it took almost a half hour for the thermometer to reach eighty degrees.

“Now we’re cooking!” joked Alexandra, leading to more laughter from the enthralled audience.  Nazar gave the occasional sidelong glance at Petra, partly to make sure she was not turning away from the ghastly scene, but also to savor her look of abject horror.  He knew she was thinking it could be her turn next, and though Nazar’s plans were not nearly as elaborate, he gained great pleasure in watching his personal victim consumed by fear.

Alexandra could hardly care less about Petra.  Her attentions were completely focused on the pathetic girl who was gradually being roasted alive in the devious contraption.  She watched in awe as Tara’s body began to steam as the blood and sweat which covered her began to vaporize in the heat.  Unfortunately, this caused a thin mist to form inside the cylinder, somewhat obscuring the destruction of the blonde’s body, but enough remained visible for the spectators to enjoy Tara’s torture.

What no one could see was the devastating effects the device was inflicting inside the poor girl. With her urinary system blocked and obliterated, the remaining liquid excrement which exploded from her ruptured bladder was trapped in her bowels where now it was being heated, along with the drugs which coursed unabated through her body. It was as if Tara’s vital organs were being marinated in toxic waste and chemicals while being poached by the incredible heat.  Not only was Tara being cooked from the outside, she was being boiled in noxious fluids from within. This elevated her suffering to levels beyond what any woman – or even any man – had encountered before.

“Ninety degrees!”  announced Alexandra proudly.  “Soon we will reach the boiling point.”  Tara’s head was covered with perspiration, the salty liquid streaming across her face as if she had been caught in a raging downpour.  Her neck was tilted back and her eyes were half closed, the irises rolling upwards. Her lips were wide apart as she wheezed and gasped for air.  Occasionally, a mixture of blood and bile would rise in her throat and spew from her mouth in a disgusting discharge. 

“Ghhhhaaahhhh...” she blubbered incoherently, then choked on another mouthful of crimson vomit. Inside the cylinder, whenever the sauna-like fog parted, Alexandra and Nazar could see that Tara’s flesh was turning the colour of broiled meat.  Her skin blistered and slowly pulled apart, exposing the underlying tissue which quickly baked in the intense heat.  As the temperature finally passed one hundred degrees centigrade, whatever blood and fluids had not yet evaporated from the blonde’s body began to bubble and boil away, searing her flesh in the process.  Inside her torso, a cauldron of septic juices had the same effect on her withering organs.

“I’ve heard some people have spent up to five minutes in one-hundred degree saunas,” said Nazar without taking his eyes of the astonishing sight of Tara’s torture.  The inside of the cylinder now was aglow in a bright orange haze as the heating elements which circled the interior blazed at their maximum output.  On occasion, he could see a part of Tara’s gruesomely cooked torso but for the most part, he and the others could only imagine what was happening to the doomed girl.

“I doubt we will have to wait that long,” replied Alexandra.  The thermometer read one-hundred and twenty degrees and continued to climb.  Most humans would be dead at this point – but the incredible stamina boost administered to Tara allowed her to cling to the final thin threads of life even at such an extreme temperature.  Her eyes still blinked and on occasion her head quivered slightly.  Alexandra knew the blonde’s remaining lifespan could be measured in minutes, but she revelled in every second that she remained conscious and suffering.

The Dragon Lady felt a familiar tingle between her thighs.  She did nothing to resist her libido as she felt the orgasmic sensation build and race through her body.  Nor did she try to hide it. At this point, why should she? After all, several of her men had already withdrawn their cocks to tug on them while Tara slowly expired before their eyes.  Even the more restrained Nazar had his hand at his crotch, apparently preferring self stimulation over Petra’s feeble attempts to pleasure him.  Petra, still gaping in wide eyed horror at the grisly display, was the only one in the warehouse who was not enjoying the show – other than Tara of course.

Alexandra moved her right hand under the neckline of her low-cut dress and caressed her breast.  She moaned softly as her flesh responded, and once her burgeoning nipple had grown fully erect, she grabbed it between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed.  Her left hand went down between her legs where she rubbed it over her moistening pussy.  It was fitting to celebrate Tara’s death by arousing herself, thought Alexandra to herself.  For her, and for her men, nothing was more erotic than the brutal annihilation of a young and beautiful female, especially a stubborn, stupid sexpot like this one.

Tara had played her part well.  Unlike most girls who fell into the Dragon Lady's heinous hands, the blonde courier had resisted with all her might, and thanks to the Blue Velvet and other stimulants, she held on far longer than any of her predecessors. Her struggles were transcendent, and for Alexandra and her minions, watching such a sublime creature have her beauty gradually ruined and forever extinguished was the most thrilling of pastimes.  And of course, in the end Tara gave it all up – she revealed the secret of Valentino's smuggling operation and betrayed her best friend and lover.  The evening could not have gone better.

And now the show was coming to a close.  Tara's head was bent at an awkward angle, her bloated tongue slightly protruding from the corner of her partially open mouth.  The steady stream of blood which had pumped from between her lips was slowing to a trickle, and she stared glassy-eyed into a void only she could see.  Tara's mind was almost as fried as her body, her last thoughts were a jumble of incoherent, panic-stricken tribulations afloat in an ocean of agony and pain.

In the midst of her anxiety, one final vision rose like a demon spectre in Tara's consciousness.  She saw the ravishing body of Ella, naked and spread-eagle, bound by endless lengths of chain and barbed wire which stretch her to her limits.  In a blinding flash, her exquisite form is torn to pieces by unseen forces, her flesh shredded and her bones broken into kindling.  Tara knew the shattering hallucination was a preview of what would ultimately befall the woman she loved, a mirage which would soon become reality.  The thought was the last she would ever have, and it left her drained, devastated…  and dead. 

At that very instant, Alexandra reached an all-consuming orgasm, also draining but far less lethal.  She let out a satisfied sigh of contentment, then quickly composed herself before any of her men could tell what happened.  She hardly need have bothered.  Most of them had already succumbed to their own desires and were busily cleaning themselves.  Even Nazar could not help but let his sadistic lust get the better of him, though he modestly had kept his manhood concealed.  Petra lay naked on her side, having fainted from fear as the ghastly spectacle concluded.

"I must say that was a most gratifying climax," said Alexandra, wondering how many of her men picked up on the sly double meaning.  Nazar gave her a brief smile, so it was obvious he caught the reference.

"Indeed, it was an exhilarating performance," he added.  "But are you sure the bitch is dead?"

"She has not blinked or breathed in over a minute and the temperature in the cylinder is two-hundred and sixty degrees centigrade. Still, we should check to make sure."  Alexandra clapped her hands.  "Lars, be so kind as to settle Mr. Nazar's doubts."

Lars switched off the apparatus, causing the glowing elements to dim.  Careful not to burn himself, he gingerly unlocked the rounded glass door of the cylinder and opened it.  A large plume of steam and smoke escaped and dissipated into the air.  The smell was abhorrent and caused several of the men standing nearby to gag and cough. But Alexandra was strangely unaffected, even though she was seated just a few metres from the device.  As the cloud enveloped her, she inhaled deeply, as if savoring the noxious vapors.  Nazar grimaced.  He was more than familiar with the nauseating aroma.  It was the unmistakable odor of burnt human flesh.

When the smoke cleared, all could see there was little doubt that the once enticing blonde had met a most grisly end.  Her body was still impaled on the metal spike thrust up between her legs, but the searing heat of the ‘sauna’ had scorched every inch of her torso until what remained looked more like barbecued meat than a human being.  The shape of the corpse was definitely female – curvy, voluptuous and with large, though  badly mutilated breasts – yet the footless legs, the skeletal hands, and the charred, smoldering flesh resembled a nightmarish prop from a horror movie.

From the neck down, Tara was a mess.  But thanks to Alexandra’s careful choreography of the girl’s torture, the blonde’s face was as beautiful as ever. Safely shielded from the machine’s burning cauldron, her head protruded like some carefully preserved trophy from the cylinder’s cover. Though spattered with blood and dried semen, her features remained defiantly radiant, bewitching even in death.  Yet no one could look at Tara’s face without appreciating the torment she had endured.  Her expression was that of a girl who had journeyed into the depths of hell – consigned to everlasting suffering and pain. Tara’s once gorgeous countenance had been contorted into a monstrous mask of infinite horror.

With the help of big black Jim, Lars opened the cylinder cover to release Tara’s neck from the aperture which had kept her from sliding down the pole. As the gelatinous mass of sludge which had been the girl’s entrails offered no resistance, her body easily slithered along the metal spike until its sharp tip emerged in a gory burst from between her mangled tits.  With their victim fully impaled on the steel shaft, the men pulled her free of the cylinder so the ghoulish cadaver was prominently displayed.

For Alexandra, for Nazar, and for all the men who participated in Tara’s slow and agonizing demise, the sight of the blonde’s devastated, desecrated body was compensation for a job well done. The men congratulated each other, and Alexandra thanked them for their services.  They knew their next paycheques would include a generous bonus.  And Nazar... he had the luscious Petra to do with as he liked.  Nude and unconscious, she could scarcely imagine the atrocities which awaited her. 

Soon after, the sun began to rise outside the warehouse. As the first rays of morning light shone through the high warehouse windows, Alexandra got up from her chair and stretched like a contented cat.

"We've had a long and successful night. It's time to get some sleep," she said, then turned to her two Asian bodyguards who had dutifully recorded the entire night's activities. "Make sure you get the video on the streets as soon as possible. I want to make sure the highlights are distributed to all of Valentino's sluts so those whores are scared to death. Now that we know how he gets the drugs into the country, we can take him down for good. By getting copies of this material out now, we'll send a message to these assholes.  We're declaring war, and there are no limits to what we'll do to win it. "

Epilogue

It was early morning when Ella finally arrived home. As always, she'd had an exhausting night, but this evening's session had been even longer than usual. She and some other girls had accompanied a group of businessmen from Germany. The men had been exceptionally rough and animalistic. From eleven o'clock until four in the morning, the girls had spent the night in a hotel suite being savagely raped and abused. Ella had been fucked multiple times in all her holes and she had been beaten. Her throat was sore and all she could taste was the cum and piss she had been forced to swallow. Her anal passage was bleeding from the chair leg which had been forced into her body.

But most of all, she was worried about Tara. She had expected her lover to arrive the night before, after undergoing her surgery, something Ella always had misgivings about. The last time the blonde beauty returned from Brazil, they also needed to wait an extra day to meet, but this time their pimp sounded strange when he called to give Ella the night's assignment. He avoided her questions about Tara and sounded nervous. Ella was pleased that he didn't require her to attend the usual strip bar that evening, but that too concerned her because it happened so seldomly.

Fortunately she was able to take some pills and drink glasses of whisky to ease her pain and forget her troubled memories. When she arrived at the door of her small apartment in the slums, Ella looked worn out and battered. The small flat had two rooms, one for Ella and the other for the two girls with whom she shared the place. The flat was across the street from one of Valentino's dirty clubs, the Captain Hook, where the girls' pimp could usually be found.  The pimp lived very close to over a dozen hookers he represented, including Tara, who lived in the basement of a larger and fancier club called the Blue Diamond but was allowed to sleep at Ella's flat two or three times a week.

Ella entered the little apartment and switched on the lights. Everything appeared unchanged, and her roommates Kylie and Bell had not returned from their night shift. Ella collapsed exhausted on a wobbly chair and kicked off her high heels. She checked her mobile again but no text had arrived from Tara, and Ella could not reach her because outcalls had been disabled on her phone.

Ella plodded into the tiny kitchen and was alarmed that her pimp had not brought her daily drug dose. In a small bucket she found only some unused needles, but the small bags of white powders were missing. Ella  sighed in despair. All she wanted was to pump some dope into herself, kiss Tara and go to sleep. Had she done something wrong? Why did her pimp not provide her daily dose? Fucking asshole. This was bad news, even if the drugs she got from the Germans could keep her high until she was able to fall asleep.

In the tiny bathroom, Ella washed away the remnants of her ruined make up and some dried sperm that she had failed to clean up in the hotel suite. A cute and beautiful girl stared back at her in the mirror, even though she was completely drained. The rings around her eyes, her bulging lips, and the marks on her skin were already fading away and could do little to mar her exotic Asian features. Ella was young and strong, even though nights such as this one were sapping away her youth. She removed her dirty clothes, which were sodden with alcohol, sperm and piss, then took a shower to wash away all the ugly residue on her body. If Tara were to wake her with a kiss later that morning, Ella wanted to be ready to welcome her love.

Now naked, Ella walked towards her room, leaving wet footprints on the floor.  In the main room she noticed something unusual. There was an open disc case in front of the DVD player and the device had been turned on to play a video. Ella sat on the well-worn sofa and grabbed the remote control. Curious about the strange DVD, she switched on the TV. No sound came from the speakers but Ella did not need audio to recognize what she was watching. It was Tara being barbarically raped by a group of muscular, masked men!

Ella remained seated as she watched the montage of different scenes – five minutes of horrible highlights depicting Tara's defilement, torture and death. She was frozen in shock, unable to do anything but stare at the screen in utter terror. At last, after watching the DVD three times, Ella let out a bloodcurdling scream… one which continued for a long, long time.

THE END