Model Bus

Model Bus Three.

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Jackie Joins The Clan.

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Part One.

Introductions.

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Jackie sat in the farmhouse lounge. She was wearing a short grey pleated skirt and a

thin white angora sweater. She was nervous and a little frightened.

Next to her on the settee sat Terry. He was 28 years old, good looking, well off, and a depraved murdering pervert. He had said he was going to marry her.

His brother Jason, two years older, sat opposite, one arm around the shoulders of his lovely 27 year old wife Marion.

She and her mother and father, Sally, 45, and Robert, 49, made up the numbers. Only the driver, Bert, was missing.

The family had just told Jackie how they had become murderers, describing in graphic detail some of the diabolical tortures they had performed on unwilling girls.

They were telling her because she had admitted a deep secret of her own. She got a sexual thrill out of reading stories about women in agony!

Her hidden depravity had saved her life.

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Just three days ago, though it seemed much longer, Jackie boarded the luxury coach that collected her and twenty-one other beauty queens to go to Stanstead airport, fly to Spain, and take part in a competition to become the advertising model for an international make up company.

Jackie was seventeen, a very pretty but quite tough young woman with a sometimes startling aptitude for crude language that hardly fitted her angelic appearance.

When very young, she had found a strange excitement in tales of captured princesses cast into dungeons and that sort of thing. Pre-teen, she was finding that imagining nasty things happening to said princesses made the little slit from which she peed feel ever so nice. Early teen, and she was hiding her feelings because she knew they were wicked, but they were getting ever more disgusting. She was finding odd passages in books, heroines being interrogated, witches being condemned, and so on.

Later she found De Sade, and then the internet.

Partly because of what was now a definite perversion, Jackie didn’t bother with boys. She masturbated to her wicked guilty thoughts and did not need a man to distract her.

Then the coach was hi-jacked and she became a prisoner of this bizarre family.

When they came for her and chained her in a cell facing another prisoner spread out for torture, her cunt got sticky despite her terror. She couldn’t stop thinking that this was so like her dirty dreams. Then the older man began to assault her, rape her standing against the wall, and she could not hide her sexual excitement.

Her secret was out……but far from despising her, these people loved her depravity, and now they were telling her their secrets, too.

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“Terry got serious about one girl and she dumped him. That’s when Marion and Jason suggested they give the girl a beating. They managed to slip her a really heavy dose of LSD, got her somewhere nice and quiet, then Terry joined them, stripping and beating her, even cutting off her nipples. They dumped her on a council rubbish tip. She couldn’t tell the police a thing, too far out on acid, and she’s still having treatment, the bitch. But at last it got Terry to find that he got a thrill out of messing a girl up, and now he’s found you, a sadistic little whore he will be able to share everything with!”

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Terry slipped his hand up Jackie’s skirt, slid a finger under the gusset of her panties, and found extremely damp conditions down there. His forefinger slid into her, and she sort of arched back, eyes closed, squirming with desire.

Suddenly, a wet naked cunt landed on her face. She could hardly breathe. She had never tasted a woman before, or wanted to. Now she found her mouth squashed against a pink flare of pussy lips that were being rubbed up and down, soaking her in come juice. Before she could really make any move or come to a decision, she felt Terry drag her panties down and bury his face against her pussy, tongue delving between her labia and worming up into her vagina. Someone pulled her arm out, and her hand encountered a stiff cock, her fingers being wrapped around its girth.

She heard Bob saying “Tell her about that cunt we just killed, how you pushed your hand inside her and ripped her fucking womb apart!”….and she was lost.

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It was an hour or so later when Jackie disentangled herself from the naked bodies all sprawled on the soft carpet, slick with sex juices, all nearly exhausted by the multiple exchanges of cock, pussy, hand, mouth, and behind.

She knew she had taken two at once, possibly Marion up her pussy using a strap on dildoe while Terry broke her virginity in the anal passage.

She had swallowed at least two loads of sperm and lapped Sally into a violent squirting orgasm.

She had told them details from her favourite stories, the Torture of Princess Leya, the pornographic Star Wars story on the net in which she was torn to shreds in the most fiendish series of tortures, and the S.S. tale where brutally sadistic female wardens gleefully help sex crazed S.S. men rape, flog, burn, cut, impale and destroy dozens of victims, ranging from pre-teen youngsters to pregnant women.

And all it had done was made them randier, not a moment of revulsion, no blame, just total delight that she could enjoy such horrors.

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Terry took her hand and led her to a bathroom. They shared a warm bath.

“You know, I really do want to marry you. Properly. Give you kids, look after you, share everything with you. I think we were made for each other.”

She looked into his eyes, blue like hers. She could see he really meant what he was saying. Despite just having just used her body like a whore, sharing her with his family, and seeing them fuck and suck her as they pleased, he did want her for his wife.

She kissed him. Totally different. Tender, with feeling. Not sexy but loving. Jackie could feel tears on her cheeks. She had fallen in love!

When they went back to the others, they were a couple. And they were going to have an engagement party in the morning!

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Part Two.

Blood Bonding.

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Olivia Grayson was twenty seven, the oldest of the beauty queens on the coach. She ran a very successful make up and nail painting boutique in Gloucester, employing six very pretty girls. When the annual call had been made for young ladies to enter the Miss Gloucester competition, the girls had said they would enter “for a laugh” and had cajoled her into coming with them to the contest.

It was a surprise to all of them when she was selected, almost all the other contestants being in their teens.

But Olivia was a very attractive woman, tall, with dark chestnut hair that shone like that of a shampoo commercial model, an aristocratic face, high cheek bones, full lips, and deep brown large shining eyes. Her waist was extremely tiny which made her long legs and full hips very eye-catching, and her exquisite breasts had a deep cleavage that any man would love to explore. She was intelligent and well spoken.

At the moment, she was groaning with the pain in her wrists and ankles caused by her body being suspended face up a few feet off the ground.

A small pair of satin briefs and a matching half cup bra. were all she had to wear

Her wrists had leather cuffs secured to two steel posts set wide apart. Her ankles were secured to wire cables leading to winches in the other corners of the cell-like room.

She had been secured by Bob and Jason. They easily overcame her struggles as she had been fettered by handcuffs until they got the winch wires connected, then she was raised from the floor by tightening the wires. She had begged and pleaded, but they had totally ignored her and not spoken a word.

She was very very frightened.

After the capture and the awful degrading public washing the next morning, she had been locked in a cell with another girl. They had assumed that they were the victims of an elaborate kidnapping, all held for ransom, and not really in any physical danger.

There was the possibility of rape, of course. Olivia was not a fool, and knew that captured pretty women had a strong likelihood of suffering some form of sexual harassment, but there had been no threats of mistreatment, just very basic food and virtually total silence by her captors.

Now, however, she was spread eagled, in pain, totally helpless, and secured on what was virtually a rack. And she had been hanging like this for over an hour. 

The door opened and three men walked in. Apart from their shoes, they were naked.

Behind them came three women, dressed like characters in a porno fetish movie.

A very young looking blonde, micro skirt in black leather, peephole bra., nipples rouged, face made up with bright scarlet lipstick, dark eye shadow, hair coiled in a severe bun held up by long steel hat pins.

A somehow more mature looking girl, black net stockings, tiny suspender belt, crotchless black lace panties, undercup half bra lifting very large-nippled breasts into eye-catching prominence, shoulder length pale blonde hair and ice blue eyes that looked at Olivia with a hungry cruel desire.

Lastly, an older woman, corseted, high heeled, carrying a coiled whip.

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“Please, listen to me. I can pay you a lot of money to let me go. I’m sure we can sort this out. I won’t cause you any trouble if you just let me out of here! Please let me down. My wrists feel like they’re breaking!”

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Everyone but Olivia smiled. The young girl moved round until she was standing between the parted thighs. She reached down, hooked a finger under the gusset of the little panties, and tried to jerk them off.

The fabric was stronger than she expected, and all she did was make Olivia squeal as her body jerked up then dropped, hurting her wrists a lot.

“Oh shit! That’s fucking strong cloth! Anyone got a knife?” Jackie said, and her fiancée went to a small cupboard and came back with a Stanley knife. The blade slit the waistband, and the cloth fell to one side to expose a neatly trimmed deep auburn bush of tight little curls. Obviously no stranger to a razor, Olivia had shaped her pudenda thatch into a neat triangle, no wispy hairs spoiling the symmetry. Another cut through the opposite leg of the satin, and Olivia now had only a bra. that didn’t even fully conceal her nipples, everywhere else on her body being blatantly on view.

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you married, girl?”

“No…please, don’t do this. There must be something I can do….please!”

“Can you suck pussy?”

Olivia groaned. She knew sex was inevitable when they came in dressed like weirdoes. Her keen business mind was weighing up the alternatives. Panic would not help. Bound this securely, escape was out of the question. She would be unable to resist or prevent them from doing whatever they pleased to her in this position. So try the only remaining alternative, play for time and hope a chance of escape may arise later.

“I have never done that . . . I’m not a lesbian!”

“Don’t need to be queer to enjoy one of your own, bitch. Sucking pussy gives pleasure, at least to the one being sucked! I’m going to give you a taste of mine. Now, you might think you could chomp your teeth on my cunt and really hurt me, and that is certainly a possibility, sweetheart, but if you do, I will take this knife and cut your cunt lips off and stuff them up your arce, right?”

“Please lower me down first. My arms are really hurting!” Olivia begged.

“We’ll see how good you are, first” Jackie grinned. And she walked round and straddled the lovely woman’s head. Under the micro skirt, Jackie had nothing on. The horrified business woman was looking up into the arse crack and cunt bulge of another woman, a view she had never had before. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. There was a definite smell. Sometimes when she bathed after jogging, the flannel had that odour from washing herself between her legs, just slightly fishy. And then Jackie slowly lowered her parted thighs and moved her hips to rock her cuntflesh over Olivia’s face……  

The five spectators were silent, eager to see if Jackie could degrade and then torment a real person, hoping she would not back out from this crucial test. If she joined them now in the rape and torture of this unfortunate woman, it would be a blood bonding that would guarantee her faithfulness. Any possible guilty feelings later could not allow her to even consider leaving them or reporting them to the police. She would be one of them in every way, a sadistic killer, equally guilty of all their crimes.

Olivia, meanwhile, had her eyes and mouth firmly shut, trying not to even breath as this dreadful indignity took place. She could actually feel wetness smearing her nose and chin. It was horrible!

Suddenly her face was free of the dreadful contact. Jackie had swung her leg over the hanging captive and casually strolled round to between the hanging legs once more.

She knelt down, put her face against the vee of Olivia’s open thighs, and delved her tongue into the unresponsive pussy, sucking the labia between her scarlet lip-sticked lips and suckling on the intimate flesh like a passionate lover!

After about a minute of this unexpected action, she stood up, walked back, and straddled Olivia again.

“That is cunt-sucking, bitch. Now do it, or I’ll fuckin’ teach you a lesson in manners!” 

Olivia was shivering with fear. The attention to her groin had made her desperate to pee. She had not found any pleasure in the disgusting act. And now, as the blonde fringed slot of the cruel young woman lowered once more onto her face, she felt sick, totally unable to force herself to open her lips and actually use her tongue in that awful place.

Above her, Jackie was beginning to feel good.

Before she had actually seen her intended victim, she had been having panic attacks virtually non stop, struggling to keep a smile on her face in front of the others while inside she was almost literally shitting herself. It was all very well getting an orgasm dreaming of awful brutality, and the group sex had been astonishingly easy to adapt to, but now she was expected too do real things to a real girl, and her heart was pounding with dread in case she simply couldn’t go through with it.

Then she had entered the cell and seen that lovely woman so helplessly suspended, so shapely, almost a perfect match for her ideal phantasy victim. And when she had actually lowered herself onto that wide-eyed frightened face, it was as though some-one had jolted her deep in her womb with a cattle prod of pleasure. A feeling of power was starting to flow through her veins. She was the goddess, the high priestess of pain, the mistress of her terrified slave……

And the fucking slave was not doing what she was fucking-well told. She was not servicing her mistress’s cunt! 

“Well, if you won’t lick, feel pain” Jackie thought, and she sat on the helpless face, all her weight just dropped onto Olivias’ head.

She had never thought of feeling a scream, but that was exactly what happened. As her ankles and wrists bore the strain of Jackie, the unfortunate victim emitted a shriek of sudden agony. Her mouth being pressed so firmly to Jackie’s cunt meant the sound had to virtually fart through the pressing flesh, and Jackie really did feel the scream against her sex lips….and it was delicious!

She also slid off the writhing woman, but quickly got to her feet.

The spectators saw the difference. In Jackie’s eyes there had been a distinct change. All at once there was no hesitation, now there was a hunger, an evil, cruel, merciless look of eagerness to hurt.

They were all shocked by the speed of the change. No-one had really noticed she was still holding the small knife in her hand after cutting free the briefs, but suddenly it was buried in the upper slope of Olivias left breast, just above the aureole of the part hidden nipple.

“I said suck, bitch, or I cut your fuckin’ nipple right off!”

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Pain and fear are good teachers. Olivia tasted the slightly breath-catching flavour of excited cunt meat. She didn’t just taste it, she lapped and sucked and rubbed her nose in it until the teenager above her gave a squeal of bliss and flooded her face with come-pee.

Unfortunately, far from being rewarded for such an enthusiastic attempt at lesbian loving, Olivia then began to shriek like an animal as the sated young blonde calmly took the knife blade out of the stabbed breast, only to slowly and carefully cut off Olivias, left nipple completely, holding the severed bud like a trophy and giving it to her fiancée as a token of her love.

Blood spewed from the tip-less tit, so Sally moved in quickly with a soldering iron, burning the sizzling wound until she had cauterized the flesh. Of course, this experience was not pleasant for Olivia. She shrieked her way into a faint, hanging there at last with smoke still curling from the roasted tit tip, the little bra still on her torso, soaked with blood.

“Time for a coffee break, I think!” Terry suggested, and the sextet of sadists left Olivia to recover.

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Bert the driver was introduced to the new member of the Clan.

He had given up trying to wrestle with his conscience. A devout coward, his own life came first, so if that meant doing what he was told and hurting the poor cows that had been his passengers, so be it.

He surprised himself how quickly he could accept the horrific things that were being done. Having been made to join in the burning and cooking of Naomi and Clair had been a high speed lesson in total horror, and he had done things and seen things that were beyond his comprehension only a few days ago.

Sure, he had felt sick to see that poor creatures breast chopped off, but afterwards he had shot a hot load of jism up Sallys’ wet and welcoming cunt, rapidly pushing the horrors of the torture session out of his mind.

Now there was another stunning blonde bimbo on the scene, flashing her pussy at him under that ridiculous little micro skirt, her rouged nipples poking out of her sexy black bra. He was immediately wondering whether she would be as ready to open her legs for him as were Sally and Marion, and he was quite disappointed when the older man and Jason told him to go with them to do some clearing up.

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Cold corpses are not sexy unless you happen to be into necrophilia. Corpses that have been mutilated almost beyond belief are even less exciting. Lovely girl faces staring at you with lifeless eyes wide open in expressions of terrible pain are certainly not pleasant, and Bert retched a few times as he helped the other men unfasten and carry the remains of the tortured corpses into a small barn. The remains were thrown into a large hopper, along with a few hundredweight of meal and cereal. 

Bob switched on a noisy machine, and Bert gave a sort of groan of horror and fainted when he saw what was happening.

Large whirling blades were disposing of the bodies, or rather mincing them into a  slurry which poured into a steel vat. The sound was awful, bones being crunched and then ground between rollers, flesh pulped and mixed into what ultimately became very nutritious pig food.

Large fans sucked the smell into a special gas flame chamber designed to extract bad odours before pumping the air up through a small chimney. Though forensic scientists could no doubt find evidence of the dead girls if they tried, the fact that the remains were no longer recognisably human meant it would be unlikely to be put to the test.

Indeed, once the pigs had guzzled at the trough, it was an interesting possibility that the only traces of those poor lassies would be in a pork chop frozen in a supermarket fridge a few weeks later!

When he came round, Bert had to sound really enthusiastic about staying on the side of the Ungodly, apologising for his weakness and assuring the other men that he would not hesitate to do whatever they said to any of the girls.

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Terry and his bride to be went back to dispose of Olivia themselves. She had proved her trustworthiness. Time to let the lovebirds enjoy a bit of private amusement.

The blood soaked bra was removed, a wet sponge used to clean up the tortured tit, and Olivia was nearly as good as new.

She came round as the cold water washed her clean, opened her deep brown eyes, and saw a smiling young blonde girl carefully mopping the black scar where had stood a lovely nipple on her big round breast.

“Oh, my God!  What have you done to me?” she groaned.

“Oh, come on….I only cut one little nipple off. We’ve hardly started yet, Sweetheart. I’m going to see if the rack is as good as they always say it is in stories about the Inquisition. I know it isn’t a big wooden thing with ratchets and rollers, but these winches do just the same job. Here, let me show you!”

And Jackie started to wind the handle of the winch wired to Olivias’ left wrist. Click for click, Terry did the same for the other arm.

At first the discomfort of being suspended just got more uncomfortable, and Olivia found herself straightening the sag of her backbone. She knew what was coming, of course, and started to sob and beg the sadists to have mercy. Then her arms became straight, reaching for the winches, her shoulders straining to try to somehow arch to relieve the pull. Her parted legs were taut, a knife-like pain in her hips. She screamed at them to stop, but they just smiled and ratcheted the winches a few clicks tighter.

Olivia was sweating. Her face had become white, her breathing was becoming difficult. She could no longer scream, unable to draw enough air into her tightening chest.

Jackie prodded her in the midriff. There was little give in the belly, stomach muscles drawn, skin beginning to feel quite taut.

“Wouldn’t you like to fuck her now, Darling?” she giggled.

“Get me hard, and I’ll open her up if you like!” Terry grinned. His fiancée dropped to her knees and took his penis between her lips. She fondled his balls, squeezed the buns of his buttocks, and let her tongue run riot around the ridge of his glans. He went to pull her head close to his groin, and swore loudly.

“What the hell….oh, it’s those damned hair pins. I’ve stabbed my bloody hand!”

He had punctured the skin, so thoughts of rape took a back seat for a while as he sucked the bloody spot. “Get those things out of your hair, Darling, before you go and stab my cock as well!”

“O.K., I’ll find somewhere more interesting to put them” Jackie smiled, her hair tumbling down as she withdrew the fastenings.

Six long steel pins.

And a nicely spread nude.

Olivia found that she could scream after all. The teenage sadist stood between her straining thighs and began to prick one of the needles into the pout of those sweet labial lips. She delicately peeled them apart, gripped one between thumb and forefinger to draw it aside, then lanced the translucent flesh over and over again with a pin. Her actions had the effect on her fiancées cock that she had been plotting with fellatio. It started to rise immediately.

“Her clit. Do her clit!” Terry drooled, and he became almost fully erect as he watched his new love tease Olivias’ clitoral hood into prominence before driving a needle sideways right through that ultra sensitive nerve laden g-spot, causing a wail of dreadful agony from the helpless victim.

“Let me get up her…you do her breasts!” he cried, and he took Jackies’ place between Olivias’ thighs, lodged the dome of his purple cock head between the punctured pussy lips, located the soft pink ring of her opening, and drove violently inside her.

She was no virgin, but she felt like one. Being racked had tightened everything up. Terry really had to make four or five savage lunges to get his pube mashing against her neatly coiffured mons. Not only was her vagina extremely tight, but thudding into her loins met with an almost spring like rebound as her raised body was held in mid air by the restraints. The pain it caused was wonderful, making her vaginal muscles shudder and contract even more on the shaft of his plunging weapon.

Add to this the sheer delight of watching his fiancée start to drive needles through the victims’ breasts, and Terry had entered into Paradise!

When Jackie had inserted all the pins, she withdrew them and stabbed them in again, into the burned scar of the severed nipple, right through the unmarked one, upwards into the rounded underflesh, sideways , down, piercing and then deliberately twisting to make the agony more intense.

What would the Marquis do, she thought. Piss down her screaming throat!

She straddled Olivia’s face, rubbed her wetness over the tear streaked face, then tensed her muscles and pressurised her bladder. Yes….oh, yes! Hot pee squirting into the open screeching mouth, choking her, making her cough and splutter, urine in her eyes, flowing up her nostrils, soaking that mane of lovely chestnut hair, and all while Terry rammed the tortured pussy harder and deeper than it had ever been rammed before…..

The only problem with having such immensely exciting fun is that it is exhausting. When Terry had spent himself in the gurgling beauty queen and Jackie had frotted her quim over the piss wet face to bring herself to a climax, they were both too worn out to continue straight away. Time for a break to recharge the batteries.

Unfortunately for Olivia, they did not release her or even reduce the strain on her limbs, but left her gasping for breath, her mind in a turmoil of sick horror as she now fully understood that these maniacs were going to keep tormenting her until she died.

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Part Three.

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That’s Disgusting!

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They found the others enjoying a combined hanging and impalement, one Gia Hassan, the only non-white beauty queen, dangling from a rope to amuse the sadists. They were letting her get to the blue in the face stage, laughing as her bladder made sprays of pee jet from her dark haired mount, then they were thrusting a rough wooden pole into her rather badly torn vagina to hoist her up enough to regain her breath.

She would have water poured down her throat, using a funnel if she succeeded in not swallowing enough to make her belly swell nicely, then they would whip and beat her some more, and hoist her up to slowly strangle again.

For a change, she would be rescued by the shaft entering her poor bleeding anus instead of the ripped cunt.

Her body was striped with bloody wealts, Bob and his wife harking back to their South African roots and enjoying flogging a bit of dusky flesh, Asian rather than African, but still nice and tender to lash.

Bob liked tits and belly, his wife preferred the back and buttocks. It meant that poor Gia was being striped on virtually all parts of her slowly revolving body. She gurgled, water dribbling from her mouth. They had fed her almost six litres down the funnel before this hanging, and her belly had a swell like a woman three or four months pregnant. Her feet kicked weakly. She could hardly see the people around her, a sort of red haze robbing her eyes of clarity. She could feel the blackness coming, welcomed it, hoped to Allah she could escape this insanity and pass through to the land of rest. Then she gasped as that terrible lunging agony tore into her backside, rousing consciousness once more. One of the grinning monsters stopped her being able to take her final gasp, hoisting her up just far enough to take the pressure off her throat.

A whip tore open her right nipple, blood spraying over her attackers nude bodies. She heard someone laugh.

Relentlessly, and totally against her will, her lungs dragged in fresh supplies of oxygen. The horrors gradually became clear again, as did the ability to feel the pain.

Each time she was raised, one of the players would quickly make sure the noose around her neck was loosened. The last thing they wanted was for Gia to die, at least, not while her body still had interesting bits to torture.

Marion grabbed the hose and washed the girls’ body down. There was quite a serious flow of blood from the impaled arcehole. Her husband forced the funnel into the Asian beauty’s mouth, not caring that he made her throat bleed so blood leaked from her swollen lips. The hose went in, and she started to cough and choke, swallowing in a reflex effort to stop herself drowning. The built in survival instinct made her fight to stay alive even though she wanted to die and escape the consuming pain that racked her body.

“Hey, her belly is really swelling. Keep the hose in. Give me something to stop her peeing!”

A bamboo shoot was carefully forced into Gias’ urethra, the tiny hole quite hard to find as her cunt lips had split at the top of her vulva and been ripped a few times on the stake. It stopped the leak of piss running down her thighs, pink rather than yellow as it mixed with blood from the whip wealts.

“Watch it, she’s sliding a bit far down the post. Lift her up before it punctures her lungs.”

The rope tightened, and the girls body slid up a few inches. Both whips tore into her, Bob ripping a line over the full curve of the swollen belly, his wife giving a cry of satisfaction as her aim proved true and the remaining nipple split like an over ripe strawberry.

Gia tried to close her throat, but the water rushed up and filled her nasal passages. She had to swallow. Her eyes cleared and she saw the near naked people around her, all looking at her swinging body with greedy appreciation of her suffering. The woman in front of her, blonde, older than her, her eyes glittering with pleasure, swung her whip and it landed on Gia’s pubic mound, so much damage already done to that area that another whip cut made little difference. The woman had her legs wide apart, the better stance for balance as she hefted the long lash. Gia distinctly heard her say “Suck my cunt, for God’s sake. I’m desperate…”

She saw a naked man drop to his knees and bury his face in the whip-woman’s groin.

A truly astounding pain seemed to flower in Gia’s body, as though someone had somehow lit a fire inside her stomach. She gave a gurgling cry, and something in her water expanded belly tore. A flood of scarlet coloured water literally exploded out of the ruptured gash made by the stake. Like a violently terminated pregnancy, the swelling of her womb vanished.

“Allaha akbar!” Gia groaned as her life force diminished.

A cynic could be forgiven for asking what was great about a God that let his follower die in such unholy agony….

“Up….up….quick, let’s see her dance!” Sally gasped, coming like a bitch on heat against Bert’s probing tongue.

And the rope was jerked tight, the blood-streaked legs kicked and the torso writhed, the once beautiful face turned a purple puce shade, and with a last shudder of relief, the poor creature breathed her last.

Jason picked up a knife and slashed off the rounded breasts, enjoying that special wet “SPLAT” sound as the orbs of meat hit the ground.

His lovely young wife took the blade from him and began to carve pieces from the hanging dead girl’s rear.

“How about we try a bit of girl steak, fresh rump?” she giggled.

Jackie, who had watched the desecration of the Asian beauty with no sign of revulsion, did find that a bit extreme.

“Oh, Marion. That’s disgusting !”

“Really? Well, I’ll cook it and see that you eat some” her husband to be grinned wickedly. “You’ve got to learn that nothing we do is too way out, Darling. So it’s a nice slice of girl steak for you later on!”

Everyone except Jackie laughed.

But they all knew she would have to do as she was told to cement her joining of the clan.

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Part Four.

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Hot Stuff.

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Olivia had been stretched in mid air all night.

Her torturers had found other things to do, and not bothered to slacken the rack.

She had gone through a state of dreadful pain, but then her arms and legs had lost all feeling. Her body had virtually shut down, although her brain had tortured her for a long time imagining the things her captors could do to her in this open position. A lot later, she had fallen into a trance like state, similar to sleep but somehow feeling as though she was a couple of yards above her actual body, looking down on her lewd display.

When new girl Jackie and her eager fiancé returned after breakfast in the morning, the first thing they did was hose her down. She had unwittingly vacated both orifices, a small pile surrounded by a yellow puddle under her buttocks.

Next they let her down, and thus caused her more dreadful pain as blood seeped back into tortured arteries and she experienced a Hellish version of all-over pins and needles for almost half an hour.

Slowly her limbs began to move, stretched muscles regaining control at last.

Terry was feeling up Olivia’s holes. Her anus was extremely tight, actually totally virgo intacto, and the pussy he had raped so deeply the day before had a pretty firm grip as he worked his forefinger inside her.

In fact, three men other than Terry had been inside the twenty-seven year old. A youth when she was at university, taking advantage of her after she foolishly mixed too many drinks at a friends’ party. Having broken her cherry, he managed to get her drunk a couple of times to re-visit her garden of delight, but she did not really like his attentions and vowed to be more selective in future.

At twenty, she became engaged to a tall good looking Welsh soldier. He enjoyed her body fully, teaching her how to suck a man and how to enjoy being sucked. Unfortunately, he was blown up whilst on active duty trying to tame the Taliban.

Applying herself to business, Olivia had virtually given up on men until a chance meeting with an old school friend led to a brief passionate fling two years ago. It ended when she found out he was married with two children.

Now, being tied face down bent over a fifty gallon oil drum with her arce provocatively presented, Olivia screamed as she lost her remaining virginity.

While Terry forced his cock deeper into the reluctant eye of Olivia’s anus, Jackie made sure his partner wriggled excitingly by using a soldering iron to burn off the remaining nipple and decorate the lovely rounded breast meat with lewd words branded agonisingly into the charring flesh.

“Fuck pig” and “Sex Slut” were printed around her breasts, Jackie reminded of her schooldays when the art class were taught to use a soldering iron to decorate thin sheets of wood by scorching a design into the board. This was much more exciting, however. The smell of burned breast meat was much nicer than smoking wood, and the accompanying sound track of a shrieking woman was delightful…..

Just before he climaxed, Terry pulled out of his victim, moved in front of her, and used a hammer to break her jaw each side of her face, hitting her below her ears. With her now unable to bite, he then fed his shit-smeared penis into her mouth and pushed down her throat, jerking a few quick thrusts to achieve his climax and squirt his cream down her gurgling gullet. Pulling out, he smeared the last few sticky droplets over her eyes. There was something very satisfying in such cruel mastery of an intelligent woman. They appreciated the thought and care you put into destroying them!

The lovebirds shackled the groaning woman to their wire hawser rack once more and quickly drew her up off the floor into a taut “X”. This enabled Jackie to continue her soldering iron etchings, but this time between Olivia’s legs.

Blistered arrows on her inner thighs soon pointed to a pubic triangle emblazoned with dozens of seared burns spelling “CUNT” above her neatly shaved thatch. Then Jackie started poking the burning iron tip between the delicate labia, and Olivia’s voice reached a new level of desperation.

While Jackie amused herself destroying the squishy crinkly cunt lips and poking the steaming iron deep inside Olivia’s vagina, Terry started to stretch the victim to the absolute limit. He could see the muscles of her spread legs start to knot, then twitch in little spasms as though he was using electricity on her, but this was a weird phenomenon that happened when ligatures and muscles were about to give way.

He didn’t stop. The ratchets clicked, and the unfortunate woman suffering this most horrible of tortures heard the creaking of her joints.

Between her legs, so much damage had already been done that, actually, she no longer felt the soldering iron burning deep charred pits into her flesh. The devilish activity still made Jackie squirm with lust, however, and she was now burning a channel from the black lipless cunt-hole to the seared anus, combining both orifices into one roasted gash.

It took her by surprise when she heard the crack and the tearing sound of Olivia’s arms being wrenched from their sockets. She rammed the smoking iron womb deep in the roasted vagina, spearing the ring of the os, leaving it inside to slowly cook the smoking belly. 

Terry yelled with triumph. He had broken the bitch. It was no good keeping stretching her lengthways now, as her arms would simply tear off.

Instead, he quickly loosened the wrist cables to lower Olivia onto the floor, unhitched her wrists, then fixed the two cables to curved stainless steel meat hooks. He took one breast and his grinning wife to be took the other, driving the points of the S-shaped hooks deep into the rounded underflesh.

They spun the ratchets, and slowly the spiked tits took the strain and Olivia saw her breasts begin to pull towards her face. At the critical point where the ground could no longer take her weight, the poor girl was gradually lifted between her widespread ankle restraints and her impaled tits.

Her arms hung uselessly, unable to give any support. The hooks elongated the branded breasts, so far that her nipples were each side of her broken jaw when the flesh gave way. Both breasts were simply ripped in half, and the croaking mindless woman, insane from the pain and horror of her torture, dropped to the floor and writhed around for a short time in the widening pool of blood, bubbling eruptions of melted fat oozing from the blackened horror between her legs.

Terry put his arms round his blood-splattered lover and gave her a long deep kiss.

“That was wonderful, you evil little minx. I don’t think I’ve ever had a better kill!”

They switched off the equipment and after a relaxing shower to wash the remains of their victim from their bodies, they went to bed together.

Terry eased his length inside the very wet and receptive slot of Jackie’s cunt, slowly, just enjoying the warmth of her clinging vagina. He didn’t want to come, just lie buried in her body.

“You really went for it with Olivia, didn’t you?” he whispered, nuzzling into her neck.

“I know….I just didn’t have any feeling of guilt at all. It was marvellous. I kept burning her and every scream just made me feel like I was stroking my g-spot. It was like masturbating without touching myself. I can’t believe how easy it is. I mean, I used to read my De Sade or those lovely torture stories on the web, and never think for one minute of actually doing it. And pushing those hooks into her breasts…wow! That was really delicious. I was remembering some old drawings I found on the Extreme site….some strippers being killed by a group called The Fiends. One of the girls in that was racked by hooks in her breasts. Always turned me on…..”

“And you liked the soldering iron?”

“Mmmmm….hot stuff! Especially when I was burning her pussy lips and her little clit off!”

“You know” Terry growled, “I don’t know how I’m going to manage when we get married. I think you’ll have to feed me ground up Viagra in my food!”

Jackie wriggled under him. “Well, it seems hard enough now. Come on, Big Boy, fuck me!”

.

Part Five.

The Ladyboy.

.

Tracy Dart was just sixteen. She looked older, being tall and shapely, but she was actually the youngest of the beauty queen captives.

She was also the only one to have a cock.

Her life had not been easy. Only her mother knew her secret, and she had brought Tracy up as best she could, teaching her to conceal that little trio of male bits between her legs. It was easy, really, because Tracy’s father had buggered off before she was even born, and no-one other than her mother and a few doctors had ever seen her little man.

At school, tucking the jewels tightly back between her thighs inside her tight school knickers had proved perfectly adequate.

She just had to be careful in the toilets, making sure she was almost sitting on the seat before she pulled her panties down.

When she was about twelve, there had been talk of an operation to remove the masculine appendages, but the doctors had said it may be best to wait until Tracy became fully mature before anything radical was done, just in case she began to have male tendencies and would start to value her unusual features.

Though she had not actually told anyone, even her mother, Tracy grew to actually quite enjoy her secret. She found it very satisfying to play with, and by thirteen or fourteen, she had decided she would probably be a Lesbian because girls aroused her more than men. When her breasts put a spurt on as she reached fifteen, Tracy quite suddenly turned from a tall and rather gawky girl into a really good looking young woman.

She was not only tall, but very shapely, with wide straight shoulders, narrow waist, flaired hips and long shapely legs. Her sharply protruding breasts looked bigger than they actually were, but were still a very tempting handful.

No one had yet handled the goodies, however. Knowing that any boy would be horrified if she let him feel between her thighs, and too young and innocent to know how to start a lesbian friendship, in her sixteenth year Tracy’s mind could be dirty at times, but her body was untouched and totally virginal.

Friends at school talked her in to entering the beauty contest, which she found more than a little interesting in a sexual way. Looking at her fellow competitors in their undies or changing into the obligatory swim suit made her quite deliciously aware of her hidden erogenous zone. Her hidden little man even became a bit of a problem sometimes, trying to pop out from its tucked in hiding place as rather naughty thoughts crept into Tracy’s mind.

She was amazed when she won the competition. Almost all the other girls had been buxom blondes, often by virtue of the peroxide bottle, with deep cleavages and slutty faces. Yet the judges had preferred her tall good looks and somewhat classier appearance.

Now, of course, she wished to God she had never even thought of becoming a beauty queen.

She was standing in the middle of the cell, her arms raised above her head, wrists secured in straps which were in turn linked to two ropes going up and over pulleys about a yard apart on the ceiling. Her legs were free.

She had been brought here at gunpoint by two men who refused to answer any of her questions, only speaking when they ordered her to move or stand, simply telling her they would shoot her in the knee if she did not obey them.

She was wearing jeans and a thin cotton blouse. Beneath these items, she had a pair of white nylon panties and a matching brassiere. She had been allowed to wash and make up, had been fed, and was in totally undamaged condition. Since the shameful exposure at the horse bathing trough, no one had touched her.

In front of her there were four or five old leather settees, virtually filling three sides of the cell, and a metal chest of drawers on wheels, like a very big tool box. Another metal bench had a battery, lots of wires, and a blue painted foot square box with the words “Fence Pen Perimeter” in red. There was also a food mixer and a mound of red chilli peppers, a few hypodermic needles, and a frosted glass bottle with a black skull and crossbones etched on the front, a small artists paint box, and a coil of very fine piano wire.

Though Tracy did not have any idea what these things were for, she knew it not look too good for her immediate future. One of the problems about innocence is that it does not prepare you to face the depravity of others. If one of her captors had told Tracy what had already happened to the other girls, she would not believe it. No-one could do such awful things, so it simply could not happen.

However, when the door opened and the entire crew walked in to the small room, their appearance shocked the teenage virgin to the core of her being. Though they were all wearing clothes, of a sort, the garments were designed to expose every sexual orifice, organ, or protruberance. She could see four male appendages that made hers look like a toy, and three female slits that showed very plainly what she was missing.

Six breasts poked in blatant nakedness from a variety of kinky bras., and when they turned their backs on Tracy as they milled around, she saw that the male pants and the females’ skirts all exposed their arce cracks.

It was obvious that these bizarre clothes had been especially made. A brief image of the latest all girl pop group video flashed through Tracy’s mind……those “girlicious” beauties prancing around in a variety of kinky corselettes and underclothes had quite a similar effect. Long black stockings, shiny boots, frills of satin and lace. But theirs only highlighted their curvy figures….these were designed to highlight those organs normally well concealed !

The older man smiled at her. He looked quite a normal sort of chap apart from the silly clothes, weather beaten face, greying hair brushed back neatly, a straight nose and firm jaw. His smile revealed even white teeth. He could have been one of Tracy’s uncles, a nice family man.

“I suppose this is a bit of a shock for you, Tracy. All set to fly to Spain and take part in your beauty contest, and suddenly you are locked away by complete strangers. But we aren’t total strangers, are we, Dear? I bet very few other people know about your little extra we saw when you were washed down, eh? Makes us sort of, well, intimate could be the word. We all know this pretty little beauty queen is a fraud, a man pretending to be a girl, don’t we? And nobody else knew about it. Well, what a little cheat you are. Fooling all those people, shaking that little ass of yours, showing a nice bit of cleavage, and all the time you’ve got a John Thomas tucked where your pussy ought to be. Gave you a thrill in the dressing rooms with the real girls, did it? You dirty little slut.”

Tracy’s cheeks were very pink, blushing with acute embarrassment. “I’m not a man!” she protested. “I’m a girl!”

“You’re a fucking Ladyboy!” Bob grinned. “A whore with a Hampton! Hampton Wick --- prick, in case you don’t know rhyming slang. A slag with a Percy where a pussy should be! Not that we care, actually. My wife and daughter both want to see what you can do with your extra bit of kit. Marion, that’s my daughter, quite fancies getting you to fuck her. She’s never had it with a hermaphrodite or whatever the fuck you really are.”

“Come on, Dad. Let’s see what she’s hiding!” Marion giggled, and Tracy began to scream in a vain hope she might be rescued if she made enough noise as the men and women started pawing her body, unzipping and unbuttoning her clothes.

She struggled, but with her arms above her head there was not a lot she could do, although one wild kick did catch Robert in the groin and he collapsed on a sofa to nurse his pain for a while.

Her jeans were pulled down and off, her blouse was shredded and torn from her torso. In just white briefs and bra., she looked deliciously virginal and innocent. Her tear-streaked face, the eye shadow making dark lines as the salty tears ran it down her cheeks, her voice pleading and scared as she begged them to let her go, her lovely eyes wide with fear…..she could see the reaction of the men. All their cocks were now swollen and erect, jutting out of their bizarre clothing like flag staffs, purpled domes bobbing as they moved around her, pawing her body, leering at her helplessness, and obviously aroused by her shapely form.

Marion and her father took one side each, slipping a finger under the waistband of the white panties and very slowly dragging the fine fabric downwards.

Terry began to chant “De dum dum dum, der rum dum dum” to the tune of “The Stripper”, Bert and the recovering Robert joining in.

The panties were lowered, a nice dark thatch appeared, neatly trimmed into a triangle, then the signs of a cunt crease, but this was a deception as it signalled the tucked back length of Tracy’s secret.
Marion and Jackie took an ankle each and pulled the sixteen year old’s legs apart once the panties had been wrenched off. This released the tucked back penis, and everyone stopped and stared at the small but perfectly formed five inch cock hanging below the well kept bush.

"Viagra!" Marion grinned. "Let's see if we can warm this little fellow up some!"

Crushed and administered disolved in spirit, three tablets were enough to give any man a very uncomfortable time, a hard on that became physically painful when no amount of sex activity seemed able to relieve the blood pressure keeping the old pleasure pencil erect. It was a fast acting variety, too, so the sadists did not have long to wait before Tracy started to sweat slightly and breathe very rapidly. Her face became flushed. She was experiencing a rush of blood to her loins, and was unable to stop the inevitable result. Slowly, her penis began to swell and stiffen, gradually rising as it engorged.

There is something very peculiar about seeing a pretty girl with a hard on. It seems to jar with one’s ideas of correctness, the women finding it unsettling and not really sexy, the men being equally disturbed but in a different way. It was as if the girl was somehow an imposter. Indeed, it was really the fact that a girl with male appendages offered a new challenge in the torture stakes that mainly interested the sadists, although a few ideas about unusual combinations of copulation were being tossed around.

They secured Tracy’s ankles to each end of a spreader bar which had a short central chain secured to a bolt ring in the concrete floor. Now she could not kick or close her legs, but could still move more than if she had been spreadeagled.

Marion dropped to her knees in front of the helpless girl, and without any preamble, slid her mouth over the girl-cock as if she was giving head to her man. She ran her tongue around the glans, pushing back the fairly tight foreskin until she could rim the actual ridge of the nob. It was slightly flavoured, but not with that breath catching taste of a man, a more perfumed flavour. She eased her face into Tracy’s groin, letting the slim but now completely engorged cock meet the back of her throat, tilting the angle of her head so she could allow every centimetre into her mouth and slightly down her throat. Then she pressed her lips around the intruder and slowly drew back, knowing that most men she had ever sucked found this clinging suction one of the most exquisite pleasures. And, despite her fear and acute embarrassment, Tracy was already shuddering with feelings of extreme arousal. This was so much better than when she played with herself. She found herself arching forward when Marion began to glide her mouth over the sensitive shaft again, trying to push herself deep into that knowing oral arousal. This shameful reaction was noted with interest by the grinning spectators, who began calling encouragement to the virgin prisoner.

"That's it, you sexy little bitch, move your cock in her mouth....lovely, isn't it?"

"Look at her nipples...they're jutting out like flints!"

"Want to stick it up Marion's cunt, do you?"

"Go on, jerk your hips, cunt. Let's see if you can come for us!"

The poor girl didn't know what to do. She was tied up in a room full of obvious perverts, her body more exposed than it had ever been in her life, and the shameful secret of her diferent sex part was totally taking control of her senses. It was  making her writhe in a sinuous dance like some well-trained stripper, the desire building up inside her like a burning flame. The fact that it was a woman on her knees in front of her, shamelessly sucking on her secret parts, should have horrified her....but it didn't. In fact, it was turning her on with a vengeance.

She glanced round at the other people watching her, seeing the men with much bigger cocks than hers, openly holding them, fondling, stroking, keeping them stiff. And the women, grinning, standing with their legs apart so they could stroke their fingers up and down the creased folds of their vulvas in blatant arousal.

Suddenly Marion stood up, allowing everyone to see that Tracy's ladycock was now stiff and jutting at a nice up-tilted angle in a perfect parody of a young boys cock, about seven inches long but not very thick. Marion carefully arched her belly forward and located the straining cockhead in the wet gash of her ever-hungry cunt. She oozed herself forward, and Tracy found her deepest darkest dream suddenly turned into shameful fact. She was fucking another woman !

The human sexual response is an extraordinarily powerful thing. It can make normally pleasant men become heartless rapists, turn a well educated and well spoken lady into a gutter-talking slut, give emotional charges so powerful that the subject looses all bodily control for an appreciable amount of time, emits un-planned screams and shouts, twitches, trembles, spasms and spurts in quite undignified ways, and in this case it turned a virginal young lady born with an unwanted appendage into a randy little fucker whether she wanted to be or not !

Tracy groaned and gurgled, her lithe hips bucking back and forth like a turned on rabbit. She was suffering shame and elation, fear and desire, horror and lust, all mixed into a powerful cocktail that controlled her body. If her hands had not been tied above her head, she would have grabbed Marion, not to escape, but to pull her more forcefully on her pistoning penis. As it was, with Marion responding like the slut she was, the strange four breasted couple gave the other perverts a magnificent display of animal lust at its best.

Jason was so impressed with his wife's erotic display, he decided it was time to show Tracy what a real cock could do, and he got behind the rutting girl, quickly spat on his fingers to provide a bit of lubrication to her backside, and forced the head of his cock into her very tight and totally virginal arce hole.

The lovely sixteen year old screamed, the pain of her anus being forced around the bulbous knob of Jason's impressive penis enough to make most women yelp, and yet despite the sudden pain and the soul-destroying knowledge of what he was doing, the Viagra laden teenager could not stop her desperate need to plunge herself as deep as possible inside Marions' receptive loins. Even as she felt the length of the intruder start to enter her, a strange feeling a bit like being constipated but forcing out a huge turd except it was in reverse, the degradation and fear was outweighed by the urge to rut. With Jason now seriously shagging the gorgeous girl from behind while his wife was in turn being shagged in front, this was a wonderfully perverted display. The others forgot about torture for a while, and everyone joined in a general orgy of cock-cunt-anus-mouth exchange, bouncing on the settees while the main trio stood centre stage, fucking tirelessly.

Unfortunately, particularly in the case of the menfolk, such pleasant exchanges quickly reduce the ability to maintain the pace, and eventually everyone was left panting, sweating slightly, and drained of the first orgasms of the session. Oddly, it was the victim, fuelled by the powdered Viagra, who was actually still in a state of arousal after the others had subsided. Her cunt-juice covered lady cock still jutted upwards, despite having had a climax and actually ejaculating a clear sticky substance a bit like spunk without the white spermatazoas.

Bert wanted to taste it. He had been the first to see the secret part of poor Tracy, and, although the idea of sucking off another man would certainly not turn him on, the idea of sucking a female cock was strangely appealing.

The teenager groaned with pleasure as her glans was licked and rimmed, helplessly pushing her hips forward to stick that little tube of sensation into Berts' mouth. He had one hand up behind her, fingers delving into her still parted anus. That was another thing Bert had found interesting. How come when you had a shit, your arcehole just closed again into a tight little rosebud, but when these women were fucked up there, they seemed to stay open like a pouting mouth for quite a long time before their sphincters shut ?

He was really enjoying this, making a lovely girl moan and gasp with pleasure. He bobbed his head back and forth, lips dragging the silky skin of the little cock, tasting Marions' cunt juice all over it and a slightly perfumed taste, possibly from beauty products the teenager regularly used. It took him quite by surprise when Tracy bucked forward so sharply that she almost knocked him over, the jerking movement accompanied by a dreadful shriek of pain.

Terry had decided it was time for the youngster to learn why she was tied up like this. He had slashed her across her back with a length of piano wire. The wire was so light that it would not really hurt a lot, but as Terry sort of jerked the wire just as it hit the girls' back, it actually cut a fine line through her skin in a couple of places. In any event, it made her scream, and this was the signal for the party to get down to more brutal pleasures with their youngest beauty queen captive.

Terry and his mother-in-law started the proceedings. With all the others sitting comfortably, Sally started a cooking lesson. She took a handful of chilli peppers and put them into the food blender, switched it on, and reduced the peppers to a juicy red pulp. Then she strained the fleshy particles from the mixture and ended up with a slightly pink tinted fairly clear liquid.

Sally filled one of the hypodermic syringes with the liquid.

"I'm trying this out because I read about a Russian interrogator who wanted to get information without damaging his subject. Seemed to work for him, so I wanted to see if it was fiction or actually would work. In the book, he reckoned an injection of chilli extract flowed round the body and caused outrageous pain for a short while. He did it once to show his captive how much it hurt, then threatened to do it again if they did not do what he wanted. In the book, they gave in, not able to face the pain again. So let's see if it works."

Terry held the girl still while the fiendish blonde selected a vein and plunged the needle home. She slowly pressed the hypodermic, and the liquid entered the bloodstream.

No-one expected the result to be quite so startling.

Tracy shrieked "It HURTS !" and began to writhe as if she was doing some weird voodoo dance. Her eyes bulged and her mouth opened wide. She started to scream, but a fiery agony gripped her lungs, and the scream became a tortured croak. Her legs spasmed as if she was getting electric shocks, and she arched her body against the bindings, gurgling, red-faced, sweat pouring from her brow as though she was in a very extreme sauna. Suddenly she pissed and shit all together, her body voiding in a vain attempt to expel whatever was causing it such dreadful pain. Her tormentors could not remotely consider the pain she was experiencing. It was inside her, seeming to flow all over her body in sickening waves of heat, a surging tide of flame pulsing with every heart beat and spreading to the extremities of her body. She really thought her head was going to explode, the intensity of agony swimming round inside her skull something no words could describe. And just as she knew she was going to burst open in a violent conflagration, the pain began to flow away, cooling as fresh blood sluiced her arteries and flushed the chilli poison from her sensory system.

Amazingly, she had not fainted. The internal power of the pain was somehow too immediate to allow her body the luxury of shutting down, and now it was over, she hung sobbing and twitching, drenched with sweat, totally limp. If this was an interrogation, Tracy would have given away every secret she posessed rather than face another injection. Her audience had found her experience very entertaining, though she had made rather an obnoxious mess on the floor, so Bert was deputed to get a hose to wash her down and rinse away her waste to freshen up the atmosphere. The cold water also freshened Tracy up. All traces of her Viagra stimulated interest in sex seemed to have vanished. She was her old self, a frightened young girl with no idea of how or why she was being made to suffer.

"Now let's see how the chilli heat compares with a bit of good old voltage !" Sally smiled, and she started to wire the girl up for a shocking experience. Using the fine piano wire, Sally made loops around the base of each breast, Terry helping to keep the nooses in place as Sally tightened them until the wire vanished in a deep crease cicling each firm bosom. This made Tracys' admirable globes stand out in eye-catching splendour, the dark aureoles of each nipple starting to become a deeper pink colour as the blood flow slowed down and the trapped breast meat began to swell slightly.

A loop of wire around the girls' waist, then two lengths running from that waistband down and between her open thighs and up to rejoin the other wire behind her, the fine wires carefully positioned to lie at each side of her miniature scrotum, the now softened cock trapped between them. Next came the inevitable butt plug dildoe,a  quite slim version with a lattice-work of wire around its length and one inch metal spur projecting at the tip of the intruder. Forced up her back passage, it was designed to just reach the first acute turn in her intestinal plumbing. Lastly, two small crocodile clips, one on each now almost purple nipple bud.

The Fence Pen Perimeter shock machine was wired in to the circuits together with a TV remote control which had been adapted to select one or more circuits  to go live at the touch of the control buttons. This amazing contraption actually ran off a mere 12 volt battery, but the transformers boosted the voltage to an incredible 22000 volts. Whilst this sounds awfully dangerous, the current is controlled so that the amperage is minute. If one is brave enough to grab hold of the terminals firmly, the shocks are hardly noticeable, but the same shock administered through the small surface area of a wire gives a savage blast strong enough to hold a wild bull inside a field. On Tracy, it would be devastating.

The poor girl was begging Sally and Terry not to hurt her, whimpering and sobbing as each new contact was put in place. Her youth and innocence gave her no clue as to what was about to happen, but the wires running to the red box were frightening and she was certainly expecting pain. When it came, it galvanised her body into a taut trembling bow, arched, rigid, her muscles seeming to lock her in position, then vibrate as electricity surged from wires round her breasts down to the dildoe inside her bottom. She made a sort of high pitched whine, unable to draw enough breath for a powerful scream. The sound quavered, too. Even the little spurts of urine that remained from her bladder shot out in a sort of stacatto rhythm. And then it stopped, suddenly, no left over pain like you would get from a punch or a burn, just deflation, a sort of helpless disolve into shocked relaxation.

She drew breath, her eyes spilling fresh tears down her cheeks. "Why ? Oh, please, stop it....why are you hurting me ?"

This time she had enough air to shriek as the jolt went from the two groin laid wires to the tip of the anal plug.

"Because you look lovely when you squirm with agony, because you sound great when you are screaming, and because we just love torturing sexy little sluts like you, ladyboy bitch !" Sally giggled, and started to vary the selectors on her hand control, her free hand busy between her own thighs to masturbate her sluicing wet quim as she made Tracy dance, shiver, buck and leap with dreadful agony from a variety of electric shocks with both varied strength, length, and location.

The sixteen year old was in an all-consuming world of pain, every fibre of her being enduring galvanic shocks, muscles twitching, contracting, locking and shuddering, lungs burning, mind slowly losing track of time and reality as her whole being became one shuddering vessel of anguish. She had no idea of time. It was eternity, and she had been cast down into the flaming pits of Hell.

Sheer exhaustion actually gave her respite when she passed out after an hour of this fiendish torture.

Her wired breasts were extremely swollen, almost purple in colour. Her nipples had grown into finger like stalks, puffy, dark, and cherry coloured, the electric shocks having actually disolved some of her fatty tissue below the surface of her aureoles. A similar softened ring went around the wired base of each breast. And between her thighs, her poor lady cock dangled between ribbed swellings of purple tissue. Unseen, inside her anal passage, similar destruction had taken place, the spiked end also having torn and shredded the inside walls of her gut. Some blood was leaking from her sphincter, and when Sally wrenched the dildoe from her shit hole, a pint of blood and grated tissue flooded down her legs.

It was quite difficult to release the wires, as they had been buried even deeper into the softened swollen flesh, but eventually the girl was free of the terrible piano wire.....though that only meant she was ready for perhaps the most diabolical torure yet !

First she was fucked again up her ravaged back passage. The men enjoyed forcing their cocks into a hole with scraped and bleeding tissue that hurt their victim with every cruel thrust. It was a bit of a shame she had that little cock. They would have enjoyed fucking her in front had it been a possibility.

Concious once again, Tracy was forced to drink a glass of  vodka which revived her somewhat, then everyone but Sally sat on the couches and settled down to watch the unfortunate girl taken beyond human endurance by the 45 year old sadistic she-devil.

.

Part Six.

Acid Trip.

.

Sally had done something like this years ago to a black servant on the plantation. It had been one of the few times she and Robert had worked on a man. The fellow was a big very black brute who had been caught stealing bags of rice from the stores and had chosen to be disciplined by the boss man and his wife rather than be reported to the constabulary. The latter would have been at the least a ten year prison sentence. The thief had expected a whipping....that was a common enough form of punishment on white owned plantations.....but instead he found himself naked and spread eagled against a barn door. "Missey" was in front of him with a little artists paint brush and a tractor battery. For three hours, the big black man screamed like a woman as Sally painted his huge black manhood and enormous scrotum with battery acid.

Now Sally was going to do it again, but with a much stronger acid. The problem had been finding a brush that did not dissolve in the acid, but a specialist chemical laboratory had these small brushes made with a resistant substance fashioned to look just like fine water colour brushes.

Wearing protective gloves and a rubber apron in case of splashes, Sally began her satanic destruction of the lovely teen age girl.  First she painted the very tip of the left nipple. The liquid from the skull and crossbone etched bottle was thin and clear, just like water. The fine brush layered a very thin coating over the purple peaked milk glands. Tracy was looking down at her swollen breast, watching the smiling blonde woman carefully paint her nipple tip. She had no idea what this was all about and was just wondering what was to come next when she saw a fine grey coil of smoke, thin, almost like a wisp of steam. Her eyes widened in surprise, brain searching for explanations, and then the pain nerves  lying a millionth of an inch below the surface of her skin were eaten by the acid and a pain that made what she had suffered so far seem almost a pleasure rocketed her into Hell. If Sally had taken the teenager to a furnace and forced her to stick her naked breast inside the firebox, the sensation would have been similar. The result may have looked more dramatic, her tit bursting into flame rather than having a small extra red area of skin, but the pain factor would have had the same reaction in Tracys' mind.

Everyone winced at the power of the shriek issueing from Tracys' throat. It seemed to bounce off the concrete walls like a physical thing.

Sally grinned like a Cheshire cat. The reaction had been so much better than when she painted the black mans' balls. Battery acid took ages to first sting and feel hot, needing two or three layers to start to disolve the tissue. This nitric acid was virtually instantaneous. It just melted the skin in seconds. And there was a lot of Tracy to paint ! The temptation was to do her all over her tits straight away, but Sally was a real sadist. She wanted her victims to appreciate their pain, extract every morsel of agony and fear from each action. So she sat in front of the shaking girl and waited for her paroxysms of pain to subside......then she painted the extremity of the other nipple !

The very tip of Tracys' little girl-cock came next. By Christ, that made her yell as the little piss hole slit was disolved by the bubbling acid. Fine lines down the slope of the swollen breasts, meeting and soon destroying the aureoles, the nipples now bloody stubs. Then a change of pace, a hypodermic loaded with the acid, thrust inside the base of her cock and squirted inside, just about where her clit ought to have been. The eruption of smoking bubbling flesh was quite spectacular. Tracy almost looked like a proper girl now, as her cock fell off, sizzling as it disolved on the concrete floor. In fact, this proved so popular that the sadists wanted Sally to inject Tracys' tits, too, so the hypo went in the raw red ooze of the ruined nipples, the needle thrust deep into the soft breast meat before the plunger ejected destruction on an explosive scale. It was quite fascinating to watch....the full breasts seemed to swell at first, the girl going absolutely insane, her body jerking so hard she broke her spread ankles, then the globes shrank, rather like burst balloons, shrivelled into empty sacs, then just sort of fell apart to leave two big circles of melted flesh.

From teenage beauty queen to repulsive broken hag, quite insane now, drooling from her slack mouth, her once lovely eyes now bulging and vacant, breath rattling as she somehow stayed alive. Terry forced a stainless steel funnel down her throat and stood back as his mother in law carefully poured the rest of the acid into the funnel. Needless to say, Tracy died as the nitric acid simply poured through her lungs and ate her heart, actually reaching down so far that a hole appeared at the top of her arce crack, smoking with acrid fumes that made everyone cough. They left the room quickly. No-one was quite sure how dangerous those fumes could be, and the girl was certainly not nice to look at any more.....but it had been a spectacular killing !

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End of Model Bus Three.