First, the standard disclaimer: What follows is a work of FICTION. If you are incapable of distinguishing fact from fiction, STOP READING. Go tune in to something harmless and innocuous. This is NOT FOR YOU. Second, this story features acts of forced sex, brutal torture, and snuff. If this offends you, please leave now. Really, we don't mind. Finally, of course, the obligatory warning: Do not try this at home. The activities in this story are carried out by highly trained fictional characters, with many years of experience. Attempting any of this in real life will likely result in embarrassment, incarceration, or being forced to watch a Pauly Shore marathon. You have been warned. For the rest of you perverts, those who are still with me, enjoy! Also, this story is copyrighted by The Chairman in 2004. You may post this story in other venues, with three caveats: One, if you do, the author would appreciate the courtesy of an email, with a URL, so he can see where his work is going. Two, if you wish to post this on a pay site, contact the author to make arrangements. Three, you must keep the copyright notice intact. Thank you. email chairman [d-a-s-h] bdsmlibrary [a-t] scubed [d-o-t] org *** Joe was bummed. More than bummed, he was just about flat broke. In fact, he probably shouldn't have bought that lottery ticket on the way home, but like they say, lotteries are a tax on people who are bad at math. Annette could tell from his expression that it had been a bad day. "What is it, dear?" "Lost my job today. And you know it is only a few weeks 'til you hit mandatory retirement age. How am I gonna pay for that now?" "Don't worry, honey. You can always take me to the County Snuff Center." "Yeah, but what a waste. I mean, look at our choices. Lethal injection or hanging. You wouldn't last more than half-an-hour or so. I was hoping to be able to go to someplace nice, like The Snuff Emporium, and get the six-hour Death By Slow Torture." "Well, my love, take the gallows, and I will just do my best to hang in there." *** "Honey, did you buy a lottery ticket today?" "Yeah. Why?" "I just got a phone call from the lottery. You won the Total Annihilation package!" "Great! What does that mean?" "Well, according to the website the man pointed me to, it means a guaranteed minimum twelve hours of torment followed by an excruciating snuff. We get to pick three of the torments, and they pick three. During my torments, the audience gets to vote on how I will be snuffed." "Wait a sec. Audience?" "Yes. Part of the deal is that my snuff will be broadcast live on TV as well as being taped for later sale." "Gotcha. This is just too cool, my slut. I can't wait to watch them slowly and painfully tear you apart, before finally putting you down. Get it scheduled, will ya?" "Certainly, Master. How about this Saturday?" "Cool." *** They arrived at the lottery offices at 7pm that Saturday night. Her snuff was not scheduled to start until 8pm, but they had been instructed to arrive an hour early for preparation. When they walked in, they were greeted by the receptionist, a stunning brunette, naked as the day she was born. Of course, this was not surprising, as females were not permitted clothing, save when explicitly ordered by their owners. She looked up with a bright smile and said, "You must be Joe." He nodded. "And your bitch is?" "Annette." "Good. We just need a bit of information to process her. First, how old is she?" "Just a few weeks shy of forty." "Lucky break for you, then, winning the lottery." She chuckled. "Has she been spayed?" "Yes." "How about her general health, stamina, endurance, and pain tolerance?" "All excellent. She is required to work out no less than two hours per day, every day, and has at least four torture sessions per week, each lasting at least two hours, and one for six. I think she will do fine." "Great. What three torments have you chosen for her?" "We were thinking Whipping and Caning, Burning, and finally, having all of her bones smashed." "Excellent choices. Now we just need you to sign this release, giving us permission to torment and snuff her, and to broadcast and record the performance, and lastly, to dispose of her remains. You will of course receive a copy of the recording as a courtesy." Joe signed, and the receptionist pushed a buzzer. A large man walked in to the lobby, over to Annette, and grabbed her leash. "I'm Erik, and I am in charge of torturing you, and putting you down, in as painful and entertaining way as possible. Come with me, snuff-bitch!" And with that, he lead her back in to the preparation area. "So what happens to her now?" Joe asked. "Well, she will be weighed and measured, given a physical, douched, given many cleansing enemas, and finally, she will be injected with special drugs, developed to both keep her from passing out, and to enhance her suffering." "So what do I do until eight o'clock?" "Get to know Vivian." "Vivian?" "Of course, Sir. You won the Total Annihilation package, and part of the package is a new bitch: Vivian." And with that, a woman that Joe assumed was Vivian entered by a different door than the one they had taken Annette through. Actually, the phrase woman was wholly inadequate to describe her. Goddess would perhaps be better. Annette was certainly foxy, and never failed to make his dick get hard, but Vivian...Wow! Joe could see that he was going to have a lot of fun owning her. She was in perfect physical condition, without a gram of misplaced fat anywhere. Her tits were quite large, but obviously natural, her waist was absolutely tiny, and her hips flared like the hood of a cobra. She couldn't be more than about five foot or so in height, and her honey blonde hair fell below her waist. It was lust at first sight. She walked up to Joe, knelt at his feet, and spoke the words of the Ritual of Ownership. "I am yours, Master, to use and abuse in any way you desire, until such time as you decide to put me down. I exist only to please you, with my body, with my tears and screams, and ultimately, with my death." Joe completed the Ritual. "I accept you, bitch, as my fuck-toy, my pain slut, and my snuff-bunny. You are mine." *** Joe walked into the small auditorium, Vivian two steps behind him. He walked all the way down to the "Owner's Chair", a large and comfortable one that was reserved for the owner of the snuff-bitch starring in that evening's entertainment. He took his seat, Vivian kneeling between his legs, gently sucking his cock, not with the intent of making him come, but just to get him in the right mood. He looked back, watching the seats fill, seeing the others taking advantage of the wide space between the rows to get their bitches kneeling and sucking cock. There was a flickering of the lights, once, twice, and everyone knew that that was the five minute signal. Those few folks who had not yet taken their seats did so. The house lights dimmed, and the stage lights came up. Annette was strapped down to a medical exam table. Her legs were spread wide by the stirrups, and the entire audience had an excellent view of her shaved cunt. Overhead was a large mirror, angled so that those in the audience could see her face easily. There were also large video screens on either side of the stage. Currently, they were zoomed in on Annette's tits. Joe guessed that that was where the action would begin. And he was not mistaken. Erik wheeled a large tray covered with stainless steel implements beside Annette. He picked up one of several large hypodermic syringes. "This is bees' venom," he explained. "I am going to inject this bitch with it in several places, to cause her to swell up, and be more sensitive, thus making her future torments all the worse." He pressed the needle against the side of her breast, and gradually forced it deep into her tit-meat. She groaned a bit as he began, but quickly subsided. Then he pressed the plunger home. Almost immediately, she began to writhe and moan. "It stings, oh, it stings so bad," she cried. But Erik ignored her suffering, and grabbed another syringe. He repeated the cruel treatment with her other tit. Next he grabbed a metal speculum, forced it into her cunt, and spread it wide. When she was wide open, he took another syringe and injected one side of her cunt. She began to sob and cry. There was not a soft dick in the house. He got another syringe, and injected the other side of her cunt, and then got a smaller syringe, and injected her clit. This brought a prolonged scream from her, the first of many, as the audience knew. Finally, Erik took two additional syringes, and injected each ass cheek. Looking up at her tits, Joe could see that they were already beginning to swell, and turn red. Clearly they were hurting quite a bit. Joe looked down at Vivian's blonde head, bobbing up and down. She was sucking his cock as if her life depended on it, since of course, it did. "If I come before that bitch does, you are going to be up on that stage tomorrow night. Is that clear?" he asked. She raised her head to say, "Yes, Master." "Did I tell you you could talk, or even stop sucking, cunt? Do that again, and you will suffer torments you can't imagine." Vivian quickly resumed sucking his cock, and Joe turned his attention back to the stage. He saw that Erik had picked up a tit-press (two large pieces of wood, connected by long bolts, with wing-nuts, that can be used to press the victim's tits flat, hence the name). He put Annette's already swollen tits in, and began to tighten the wing-nuts. He continued to tighten them, more and more, until her tits were mashed flat, and bulging out the front of the press. Her screams were incredible, and practically inhuman. Next, Erik turned Annette's swollen and bulging tits into large, and very full, pin-cushions. Each tit had what looked to be over a hundred pins stuck into it, and there were four through each nipple, marking the points of a compass. Erik now turned his attention to the slut's pussy. He began to stick pins through her pussy lips. Her renewed screams were music to the assembled onlookers. After he finished turning her into a pin cushion, he picked up a large knife, and held it up where the bitch could see it. "I am going to use this to carve my initials in your ass. What do you think about that?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, or indeed caring, he began to slice her ass cheeks. Not deeply, he was not interested in mutilating her this early in the programme, but just enough to scratch the skin and draw blood. He reached for a container of salt. *** It was 10pm. Annette had been screaming for two hours. Joe was enjoying himself immensely. Vivian had proven herself a talented cock-sucker, and when she heard Annette scream her way through a pain-induced orgasm, she redoubled her efforts, and within a minute, Joe had come. Meanwhile, Erik had taken Annette down from the medical exam table, and strapped her to a St Andrew's cross. He picked up a flogger, and began to beat her ass. She howled and screamed, but then again, that was why she was there. He switched to a knotted flogger after a while, which raised welts immediately. He tore scream after scream from her, for minute after minute. After she had been flogged for at least an hour, Erik said, "Enough of this warm up. It's time to make you suffer." He picked up a sjambok. The sjambok is a very severe instrument of discipline, and in the hands of an expert, can elicit screams with every blow. It was clear that Erik was such an expert. He knew how to time the blows, so that each had reached its peak before he gave the next. Annette soon became hoarse from screaming, but her body still shook with deep and uncontrollable sobs. It was clear that her sudden silence was not due to any decrease in her agony. *** And so it continued for another hour. It was now just after midnight. Erik strapped Annette back to the medical exam table. Then he inserted an enema nozzle in her ass. But this was no ordinary enema setup. No drip bag, hung from an IV stand. This was hooked up to the Enemator(TM), the very best that modern science had been able to devise. The Enemator had the ability to heat the solution to any desired temperature. It had a pump with a variable speed control, so it could force any amount of solution desired at any rate of flow desired into the victim's ass. Erik had set the temperature of the solution to 150 degrees, and set the pumps to force five quarts into Annette's ass at a speed of 1 quart per minute. Annette's belly was swollen very quickly, and her discomfort was obvious. She was made to hold the enema for five minutes, and then allowed to release it. The next enema began, and for this one, the solution was 175 degrees, and six quarts were forced up her ass in only four minutes. This was definitely very painful, and her relief, ten minutes later when she was allowed to expel it, was palpable. But the third enema was far worse. Erik had set it to heat the solution to 200 degrees, and to pump a staggering eight quarts of liquid up Annette's ass. Her belly was swollen like that of a woman nine months pregnant. While she struggled to hold the monster enema, Erik pulled out a very large latex toy. It was shaped like a man's fist and forearm, but a man whose wrists were 12 inches around. When he jammed it into her cunt, she howled. She begged, she pleaded. She would do anything to have it removed. Of course, Erik obliged her, removing it slowly...then jamming it in again. And again. Blood ran down her thighs from where the fist-dildo had torn her cunt. *** It was now about 2 am. Annette was six hours into her ordeal. Erik looked at her and said, "Okay, bitch. Enough of the easy stuff. Let's have some fun." He allowed her to expel the monster enema at long last, and took the fist-dildo from her stretched and bleeding cunt. He unstrapped her from the medical exam table, and attached her wrists to the ends of a spreader bar, dangling on a chain from the ceiling. After making sure she was securely hooked up, Erik hit a switch, and the bar was raised, taking Annette with it. He stopped when her feet were about six inches off the floor. Walking over to one of the storage cabinets, he took out a large candle, with a long wick. He lit it, and approached the girl. He began to burn her skin, lightly at first, singeing a nipple here, burning off armpit hair there. Just little burns, enough to make her twitch and howl, but not really hurting her very much. After a bit, he began holding the candle in place longer, getting the flame closer to her. The audience could now sometimes smell a faint aroma of burnt meat. When he had "warmed her up" sufficiently, Erik went back to the supply cabinet. He returned with a propane torch. He lit it, and the audience grew so still that all could hear the evil hiss of the gas, escaping and igniting. "Oh, God, please, no!" Annette begged. But she knew it would avail her nothing. And she was right. Erik began to burn her in earnest, raising blisters on her feet, her belly, her tits, her cunt. On every part of her. She screamed like a woman suffering the torments of the damned, but then again, she was. *** By fourish, she was blistered all over. The slightest touch was painful. Her nipples had been completely burned off, as had her clit and labia. Since she could no longer feel much on her skin, it was time to switch to direct nerve stimulation. Erik attached a number of electrodes to various points on her body. Electricity was a wonderful torture method. It could be turned on and off, quite literally with a switch. The intensity could be varied, from slightly annoying to "Please kill me now!" One skilled in the art of torturing females electrically can cause unbelievable agony. By watching her reactions, by listening to the duration and intensity of her screams, by observing how she shakes, how much she sweats, the master can make the victim suffer more greatly than she ever has in her life, and yet, when he turns it off, it is done. There is no lingering after-effect like there is with a whipping, or burning, or other forms of direct physical stimulation. Since it is only nerve endings being stimulated, and only because of an external input, the pain is completely controllable. Some amateurs, torturers unskilled in the art of female electrical torment, like to set the electrodes up to have variable intensities, variable points of application, variable durations, and variable pauses. While this is adequate for the beginner, or for someone who desires a simple, painful, controllable unattended torture, for the true connoisseur of agony, nothing can beat the experience and judgement of a master. And it was clear that Erik was such a master. He played her body like Yo-yo Ma on a Stradivarius. He wrung a sonata of screams from Annette's throat, played a concerto of pain and agony on her tits, cunt, and ass. He was magnificent. *** After a few hours of refreshing screams, it was clear that Annette had not lost her ability to suffer. Erik lowered her from the attachment that had held her suspended for so long, and strapped her once more to the St Andrew's cross. But he took the time to really strap her down tight. The audience wondered what he had planned next. They soon found out. Erik picked up a baseball bat, stepped up to the girl, and swung for the outfield. He shattered her kneecap. Then he reached down and ground the pieces of bone together, to increase her agony. Just when Annette thought she couldn't suffer any more greatly than she already had, she found out she was wrong. Erik continued to use the bat, methodically breaking her other kneecap, her ribs, her thighs, her pelvis, her calves, her upper and lower arms, her elbows, and every other large bone in her body. When he had finished with the large bones, he grabbed a small hammer and went to work on her fingers, one by one. Then her toes. Her hands. Her feet. There are over 200 bones in the human body, and when he finished, all of hers were broken. Even if they were not planning to snuff her, she would never be any use to anyone ever again. Fortunately, that was not a problem for her, or him. *** It was now eight in the morning. Annette had indeed suffered dreadful torments for twelve hours, and it was now time to snuff her out. "Well, gentlemen," Erik began, "while I have been tormenting this slut, our home viewing audience has had the chance to vote on how I should put her down. The votes have been tallied, and by a large margin, the winning selection is ... Death by lethal injection." Many in the audience groaned, their disappointment palpable. "Wait, wait," he continued. "This is not the relatively painless shit they use at the County Snuff Center. This is a special concoction, devised by our top scientists. She is guaranteed an extremely painful, and extremely slow death. Our drug causes intense muscle contractions, and also includes agents to keep her alert and awake, and to heighten her sensitivity to pain. Gradually, the muscle contractions get longer and more severe, until her lungs seize up, or her heart does. Either way, it is an excruciatingly painful way to die. None of our test bunnies died in fewer than forty-five minutes, and two extraordinary ones took over two hours to die. So prepare for some serious, and ultimately terminal, agony." With that, he injected her. At first, nothing happened, and many of those watching thought it had had no effect. Slowly, she began to twitch. The muscular contractions grew more intense. Suddenly, she went rigid, and screamed. The poison had begun its devilish work. Annette continued to scream. Her screams were quite agonised, and would have inspired pity in the hearts of some, but for those watching, the only emotion anyone felt was the desire to see her die in as much agony as possible. Finally, after a little more than an hour, she shuddered, and died. Everyone gave Erik a standing ovation. Joe hoped that when it was time to put Vivian down, she provided at least as good a show.
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