Model Bus.

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Torture, snuff, non-consensual, m/f/f, extreme content.

.If you do not like bloodthirsty tales of brutality, do not read any further. This story is a phantasy of sadistic cruelty that bears no resemblance to reality. Women endure hours of vile torments that would kill a real person in five minutes, and their tormentors seem endowed with magical sexual prowess that a Viagra salesman would envy. If you do read it, I hope it releases your own sexual needs harmlessly in this phantasy world.

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A torture story by Susan.

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This tale is phantasy and made for people who enjoy over the top tales of outlandish and quite unrealistic cruelty and torture, snuff, and forced sex. Do not even start to read on if this is not your scene. There. Two warnings. Now enjoy!

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Chapter one. Twenty-Two Pussies.

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The coach was top of the range, each of the twenty-four seats a testament to ergonomic design, comfortable to sit in, able to recline and convert into surprisingly comfortable sleeping couches. They were arranged in four seat booths to give an air of privacy to communal travel. Fold down tables, each with private lap top connection, phone charger and pull down video/T.V. screen were provided in front of each seat. Not only was there a spacious and sweet smelling toilet compartment at the rear of the coach, but even a shower and a beautifully fitted out dressing room with well lit make up mirrors and a superb stock of top fashion lip sticks, blushers, eye-liners, and so on. Stereo speakers were angled to provide a selection of music to each booth, the highest volume carefully maximised at a level that did not intrude into the next booth. To aid the illusion of privacy, sound-deadening curtains could be drawn across the footway. This ran along the offside of the coach rather than down the centre, thus maximising passenger space.

Two of the seats were empty. Miss Ipswich and Miss Colchester had not yet been collected as the coach swept through the drizzle towards Stansted airport where the girls were booked on a flight to sunny Spain. They were going to compete in the finals of the beauty contest organised by one of the major make up companies of America, the prize being a one-year contract as the advertising model for the company products Worldwide.

They passed Stowmarket, heading down the A14, only about fifty miles from the last pick up in Cambridge, but it was time for a refreshment break and the driver pulled in to the service station at Beacon Hill.

Giggling girls ran from the coach to the bright lights of the service station, plastic,

PVC or leather protecting them from the inclement weather.

“Fifteen minutes maximum!” the driver shouted after them, grinning, as he felt good about driving round such a sexy looking collection of glamour. He walked round the side of the main building, heading for the truckers café.

The two men who came alongside him were grinning. “Jesus, Mate. Got yourself a prime cargo in those little dollies. What is it? Some posh hen night? “

They were one each side of him as they swung round the corner of the building. Each took hold of one of his arms as he collapsed when the stun gun met the base of his spine. The trio continued walking, the middle man appearing to be rather drunk, unable to use his legs properly, stumbling and sagging between his supportive escorts. They went straight on, into the car park, a third man opening the rear door of a large black four by four. “Alright, Mate. In you go. Rest up a bit. There!”…. and the door closed. One man went back towards the now empty coach, keys neatly retrieved from the stunned driver. He swung up into the driving seat, anonymous in dark clothes behind the smoked windows. After a few moments, one of his colleagues strolled over and handed him the uniform jacket of the driver together with a small metal suitcase. He put the jacket on, then opened the case and fitted the small gas cylinder below one of the seats half way down the coach. He primed the release valve, and then waited for his passengers to return.

The air operated doors hissed open halfway along the side corridor and the groups of returning passengers entered the coach without even looking at the driver.

He counted them in, then extinguished the bright lights and started the engine. He drove slowly at first, well used to commercial vehicles but finding the fancy controls of this luxury vehicle a bit strange to get used to. Back on the dual carriageway A14 he could relax. In a few miles, he was confident he could handle the vehicle properly and had seen that his colleagues were behind him with the 4x4.

Contrary to popular myth, it is extremely difficult to gas people without either killing them or causing such distress that they become highly agitated before succumbing to narcosis. The cylinder planted in the coach would have no effect other than to emit a most unpleasant smell, a mix of rotten eggs and burnt rubber.

Just before the next junction, the driver released the gas. He switched on the speaker system and said he would pull off the dual carriageway and sort out the problem as soon as possible. Behind him, girls were coughing and gasping as the acrid smell affected their breathing. The driver flashed his rear lights, and took the small left junction, which would lead to a small village, Claydon. Almost at once there was a lay-by and he pulled off the road. He opened his door and went round to meet the other two men who jumped out of the 4x4. They handed him two repeater stun guns, and each had two for themselves. Six zappers, twenty-two female passengers, all to be stunned before they panicked and tried to leave the vehicle. There was little traffic around, but the occasional car drove by. The rain meant there were no pedestrians in sight. The driver opened the main side door and all the men leaped inside. Fast and efficient, the men stunned the passengers so quickly that there were only a couple of shouts of dismay, nothing that would even have been heard outside the coach.

Twenty-two pretty girls slumped in their seats, shuddering and twitching as the electrical impulses of all their muscular activity struggled to recover from the devastating tazar shock. Zip lock nylon closers went around wrists and ankles, then one man brought a small case from the 4x4 and handed out rubber ball gags. Within less than three minutes, the passengers were helpless and gagged.

One man jumped out and drove the car away after zapping the real coach driver once more and throwing him back into the coach. The “relief” coach driver started his vehicle and returned to the main road. The third man stayed with him on the coach and began to inject each of the girl passengers with an anaesthetic that would send them to sleep for at least three hours.

When he withdrew the needle from the arm of the last girl, the anaesthetist took a deep breath and paused for a minute to let his own heart rate slow down, then went to the seat beside the driver.

“They’re all sleeping like babes,” he grunted. “And some of them are stunners! Jesus, we are going to need a bloody case of Viagra to cope with that lot. Twenty-two pussies, and every one a looker. How are we going to deal with so many? We only ever had four at once, that black girl and the hitchhikers. And that took some planning with the food and so on. Can we manage twenty bloody two?”

“No problem. We just don’t need to keep them so long. D’you realize, we can snuff half a dozen at once if we feel like it? Just wade in and slaughter some really prime pussy meat. It’s like my dirtiest dream ever coming true.”

“What about the coach? We’ve never had anything so big to get rid of before.”

“As soon as we make the farm the girls will vanish, and before anyone even starts to look for the coach it will be neatly parked, nice and empty. Don’t worry. We’ve planned the moves pretty well.”

At the next main junction, they turned left. This was the first time, other than the brief zapping stop, they had deviated from the expected route. It took just over an hour and a half to reach the small private lane leading to the farm. It was dark and there seemed to be not a soul around. This was the critically dangerous move, getting off the road and inside the huge barn without anybody noticing. Well, if someone had seen a coach turn in, and reported it when the media went berserk about a missing party of beauty queens, the farm would be discovered…but it was only the first stop. The men had a bit of work to do before they could start to enjoy themselves.

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Chapter Two.

Horse Box to Hell.

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Two women and the other man were waiting in the farm. They worked with speed, controlling the urge to panic, as there was so much to do and so little time to do it. The unconscious passengers were carried from the coach and secured inside a large horsebox transporter truck. The stalls inside had been modified with removable sections of padding formed into coffin like shapes. Straps at top, middle and bottom secured a girl inside each lidless “coffin” in a standing position, albeit slumped a little as they were unconscious. If they came to before reaching their next destination, the captives would be helpless, any struggles absorbed by the padding. All the workers were to be congratulated on resisting the temptation to explore or interfere with any of the helpless goods they stacked so securely. With all twenty-two girls and the unfortunate driver secured, the workers set about cleaning the coach of all traces of their having been inside it. Then one man, carefully gloved and wearing a hair net and untraceable coveralls, drove the coach to the park and ride area outside Ipswich. He inserted carefully cleaned coins in the commercial meter, locked the coach, dropped the keys down a road drain, and quietly walked away. Pre-planning had plotted the location of all security cameras along their routes. With care, one could get to a residential street close by in which parking was not restricted, get in to a previously parked vehicle, and drive away without having been recorded on a single camera.

The two women drove the horsebox. This was because policemen do not think horsey type ladies can possibly be criminals. There was a virtually zero chance of them being challenged. The vehicle was in top condition, fully taxed and insured, driving well within any speed limits, (which was to be expected when carrying livestock), and it is not unusual in that part of the country to see horses being transported between stables, often at night when the roads are less busy.

In the back, the three men were looking at their captives and were already getting excited.

Jason Clark was a property developer. He had the foresight to buy a complete housing development “off the plans” in 2001, the value of each of the one hundred and fifty six properties had more than quadrupled. He was in the multi million bracket, paying his taxes, living with his pretty wife Marion in a very exclusive area near Epsom in Surrey, supporting local charities, a model of propriety except when he and Marion made love. Then they both became monsters of depravity.

Marion was driving the horsebox. She was twenty-seven years old, a natural blonde, and had been perverted by her father when she was a child in South Africa. He had enjoyed whipping women, and brought her up to enjoy the sight of a servant stripped and tied and being whipped and sexually assaulted. Her mother, Sally, had been a willing participant in these events. When Marion sat on her mothers lap watching Daddy thrust his manhood into the well striped rear of a sobbing black girl, Mommy’s fingers had brought a wet excitement to her daughters nether regions. They used to call it “tickling”, and Marion was tickling both her Mother and Father and herself long before she became a teenager.

The Clarks lived about twenty miles away. There was some trouble with blacks protesting about working conditions and Marion’s father, Robert Henderson, and Mr. Clark dealt with it unwisely. Two servants and a couple of farm hands were killed, so both families sold up and returned to “the old country” before facing charges. Jason, one of two Clark sons, found the young Marion exciting, especially as he found that by talking about what their parents did to the servants made her want to share a bit of “tickling” with him.

Marion was sixteen at the time, a long legged coltish girl with a ready smile, athletic disposition, and a mind like a sewer. Jason, three years her senior, set about perverting her even more. She was a willing pupil. They became inseparable, and married two years later.

Terry was Jason’s brother, two years younger. It had taken quite a long time to drag him down into the mire of sadism the couple inhabited, but he became hooked when a girl called Siobhan turned him down, in a heartless and cruel manner.

“She’s a bitch, Terry!” Marion had said. “I’d like to strip the cow, tie her on a table, whip the skin off her, then watch you and Jason fuck the shit out of her!”

Terry was not shocked by this outburst. He knew the peculiar likes of his brother and sister-in-law, frequently saw the filthy books they read and the disgusting comics they pored over. Just for once, though, he actually pictured what such a scene would be like, and to his surprise and embarrassment, he suddenly had a raging hard-on as he imagined fucking a well-whipped Siobham in front of Marion. He tried to conceal it, but Marion saw his attempt to cover the bulge in his pants and laughed with glee.

“You like the idea, don’t you? All that morality stuff about Jason and me liking cruelty and sex, then you think of flogging that heartless bitch and get turned on. Come on, don’t be shy. Admit it. You know I’ve always wanted you to fuck me, don’t you? Jason knows. I tell him sometimes how I’d like both of you to have me at once. If you were not such a prude we could get some serious fun going, you know.”

The poor sod had no chance. Despite his holier than thou protestations about his brothers dirty predilections, Terry secretly envied the blatant sexuality of Jasons lovely wife. And he had lain in his bed, hand on hardness, visualizing her splayed legs and the pouting cleft eager for his penetration more times than was healthy.

Two weeks later, poor Siobhan didn’t know what had happened when her world turned into a blaze of impossibly vivid colours and her mind seemed to explode into waves of sound that didn’t enter her ears. The LSD tabs she had been slipped took reality away from her big-time. It was like taking a lamb to the slaughter.

She had no idea where she was or who she was with as hands pulled at her clothing. She had no idea that she was being stripped and roped over an old discarded pallet in a tumbled down ex-stable to the north of Epsom Downs.  She heard the screams without knowing it was her voice. The colours were turning violent, dark purples, deep crimson, shot with pain spikes as fire etched her naked flesh. The white doves soaring in a stormy sky turned into dragons, equipped with long curved talons, swooping out of the whirling clouds to claw at her flesh. The acid fuelled phantasy grew ever more frightening, ruptures in her flesh admitting monsters that grew and surged deep inside her flesh, fish-scented wet soft pillows of womanhood pressing her face, pain, deep serious savage hurt from in front and behind at the same time, awful lurking fears that she was being crazily abused by laughing sexual demons implanting their Devil seed in every orifice of her body…….

They had not killed Siobhan. They had whipped her, cut off both her nipples, burned her vulva with lighted cigarettes, and repeatedly raped her. Then they almost drowned her washing her body and cleaning her inner orifices with bleach. They dumped her on a council rubbish tip, naked and unconscious, still delusional on her acid trip.

The police were unable to get any sense from her, even after weeks of intensive hospital care. She could not remember anything but horror and pain, and is still undergoing treatment for mental problems.

And Terry had become a convert. Having tasted the power of rape and the cruel satisfaction of violence upon helpless girl-flesh, a combination of natural lust and eager teaching by his brother and sister in law soon had him as perverted as they were, and eager to taste the forbidden fruits of brutal lust on another woman.

Both sets of parents, meanwhile, lived by the sea near Eastbourne, spending much of their time as a foursome both in bed and in general companionship. Strangely, as sometimes happens when parents have enjoyed illicit sexual pleasures with their young daughter, Robert and Sally had found their deviant sexual interests in Marion faded as she became a confidant teen. Instead, they now shared fond memories of their cruel sport abroad with the Clarks, frequently holding foursomes at which they would gleefully excite each other talking about the black girls they had flogged.

They had no idea that both the Clarks boys were far more depraved than they were.

Or that Marion had already killed four young women.

Things changed when a fox ran across the A27 road between Eastbourne and Lewes. The Clarks were driving home late at night. He swerved, lost control, and met a Polish juggernaut head on. Neither of them survived the impact.

The funeral was at Pevensey Bay, and Marion, Jason, and Terry naturally attended, staying the night with her parents.

The drink was flowing. And the talk naturally veered to the old times in Africa. It was Jason who said “Remember how Dad used to whip those black bitches arses raw? Jesus, that used to turn me on like hell, seeing their naked tits bouncing while he flogged their backsides, and hearing them scream!”

There was a moment or two of silence, then Sally said “I never knew you saw any of those things, Jason. That was not really what children should see!”

Marion laughed. “Come on, Mom. I sat on your knee watching Dad flog a few bitches too, didn’t I ? Don’t kid me you didn’t know it turned us all on seeing them struggle!

You certainly had a few orgasms watching him fuck them, too.” 

Everyone looked at each other, almost as if they were wavering between denial and truth, then Robert reached forward and poured himself another whisky.

“No use denying it, Jason. Your father and I did have a lot of somewhat illicit pleasure out of disciplining the female staff. We found it highly erotic and very satisfying. Most white land-owners did the same out there back in those days.”

“It’s a lot more fun doing it to a white girl!” Jason grinned. “You ever tried it, Mr. Henderson?”

This time there was an almost electric charge in the air. Marion caught her breath, staring at her father with her bright blue eyes wide with expectation. Her mother was blushing.

Robert put down his glass and leaned back in his chair. He looked around the faces, saw the tense expressions. “Have you?” he smiled.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Frequently. And I was accompanied by my lovely wife on those occasions,” Jason said, reaching out and squeezing Marion’s hand. “And she is very good at it.”

“You’ve whipped girls?” Sally gasped, looking at her daughter in amazement.

“Mom, we’ve done a lot of things. I didn’t know Jason was going to talk about it, but it’s enough for you to know we don’t have any hang ups about what you did in Africa. If we’d been older, we’d have joined in and loved it. So stop treading on egg-shells and drop the polite chat, alright? Jason, Terry and me are all sadists. There, now you know.”

“Is that true, Terry too?” Sally said, her eyebrows trying to climb off her forehead.

“Yep. He’s a convert. We share sex and cruelty. Why not? You and Dad fucked with his Mom and Dad for years.”

Nothing like a bit of plain speaking to clear the air. After a stunned silence, suddenly everyone started talking. Two hours later, Marion was telling her parents how she and the boys had captured a total of four young women and tortured them to death.

Modesty had been banished. Both women had removed their panties. All three men had their cocks out. The parents listened with rapt attention as their pretty daughter and their son-in-law detailed fiendish outrages they had performed on the helpless naked bodies of their captives. It was way past the burning cigarette on the pussy. Now it was how a breast sounded as it landed with a delicious wet “splat” when it was sawn off a girl hanging from a hook driven into her vagina, suspended upside down over a barbecue grill. 

In the morning, the talking resumed. The details of how the girls had been captured, and how their corpses had been disposed of, reviews of some of the most depraved tortures, and some very advanced “tickling” once more between parents and daughter, this time in the presence of and with the full support of her husband and brother-in-law.

Both Marion and the men were astonished how casually the older couple accepted talk about murder and savagery, not a suggestion of disapproval or even distaste as some really gruesome details were revealed. It seemed the Hendersons had enjoyed violent sexual torture in their minds for years, even though they had been unable to actually inflict more than minor injuries on their victims. After Marion had been “tickled” by her mother whilst watching Daddy ravish the whipped behind of one of the plantation blacks, she had not known that her parents went to their bed and made love whilst talking about how they would slaughter their arse-whipped slave in the most diabolical ways, if it were possible. Mummy and Daddy had thought such advanced ideas were not suitable for their pre-teen daughter…… 

Thus the terrible trio became five, and plans for the most ambitious torture-fest began, at first in the “what if” mode, but rapidly progressing to the “we could” stage. Serious and careful planning followed. The idea, proposed by Robert, was simple. The most likely parts of any plan involving murder were the abduction and the disposal. No-one had ever been caught in the act of actually killing an abducted female. As the farm owned by Jason gave virtual carte blanche to the disposal problem, it was the capture that posed the most threat of capture. So Robert suggested they abduct a whole group of victims in one operation, thus providing them with more pleasure at less risk.

The collecting coach for the Max Factor Beauty Pageant in Spain was the ultimate prize for those who wish to despoil lovely females. Up to twenty four of the prettiest young women in the South of England on one vehicle……

Through business contacts in the transport world, tenuous enough to defeat investigation, routes and times were obtained.

The horse box, already owned and used on the Essex farm, was modified. A block of dilapidated farm storage buildings including deep grain and silage storage pits was transformed inside with sound proofing and hidden cells, all wired to an elaborate security camera system. The cost was dear, but Terry used part of the estate of his deceased parents to provide much of the finance. Most of the work was done by Polish immigrants who could hardly speak English and had no idea what they were creating. The final touches were added by the five after all the Polish workers had left, the chains, restraints, frames and other special devices….

Weeks later, as the first fingers of a rosy dawn lightened the big open sky over the flat landscape of  Norfolk, twenty two young unconscious girls and one man were unloaded from a horsebox and locked in soundproofed safety on a big rambling old farm in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by flat fields in which horses grazed and only grass was growing. They had been transported to Hell and their nightmare was about to begin.

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Chapter Three.

Pussy Galore.

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Although all of the sadists were desperately keen to start on their captives, they had a lot of work to do before they could relax. Valet the vehicles, burn clothing, arrange false records of stock movements, check for unexpected phone calls, and so on. If they were ever to be approached by the authorities about their whereabouts on the night of the abduction, they had to be secure in their stories so nothing could tie them in with the abduction.

None of them had any criminal record. Not even a parking ticket. They eventually relaxed, sure that they had covered all possible problems. Although the prospect of what was to come was exciting, all of them were exhausted and decided to sleep for a few hours before starting their adventure into savagery.

In the cells there was a slight smell of urine. A few of the girls had come round, found themselves trussed up and ball-gagged, and promptly wet themselves. Most were still drugged out. The coach driver was awake, also bound and gagged, but not woozy from drugs as he had been shocked unconscious. He had a horrible premonition that he was not going to like finding out why he lay in a dark concrete cell, and was hoping that somehow his passengers were safe. He hoped this could be some sort of terrorist kidnap deal that he might be able to emerge from unscathed. On the other hand, he had been carrying a very special cargo…..

Sally pulled the drawstrings tight on the black leather wasp-waisted corselette Marion was wearing. “Darling, you look like one of those old American bondage cartoon mistresses” she laughed. “Sadie Stern or something.”

Thigh length black shiny leather boots emphasised the look. With no panties on and the low cut of the corselette exposing her cherry red nipples, Marion knew she looked sensationally sexy and imperious. She coiled a short supple black leather whip and clipped it to a loop fashioned on the waist of the corselette. Normally shoulder length and flowing, her blonde hair was drawn back into a severe bun. She had used brilliant red lipstick and plenty of mascara and eye shadow to make her features suggest sex and dominance.

Her mother, still a good looking and well preserved woman at the age of forty-five, wore black lace panties and a peep-hole bra. that only just contained her ample breasts. Her long sun-tanned legs were featured with black mesh stockings held up by a wispy black suspender belt. Ann Summers Specials, Christmas,2006.

Her husband had on light cotton trousers and a sports shirt. He had no underpants beneath the trousers.

The brothers wore jeans and tee shirts.

The survey cameras covering the exterior of the property could see for miles over the flat countryside. No-one was around as the five went to inspect their captives, and, naturally, any casual farming staff had been given time off. No deliveries were expected. Even the post could be left at the box almost one and a half miles along the private lane.

Jessica Holdaway lay curled up on the concrete floor of the first cubicle. Jet black hair, petite but curveatious frame, slightly Italian features, but a lovely looking piece of girl-flesh, she was crying, finding even that was not easy with the big ball gag strapped into her mouth. She had tried to get up, but her ankles were roped together and fastened to a metal ring set in the floor. Her wrists were secured behind her back. She was terrified, aware that she had wet herself, totally unable to comprehend how her wonderful exciting trip to Spain could possibly have become a horrible experience like this. She whimpered as the door to her cell opened and a little more light illuminated the almost bare surroundings.

With the stupid optimism of the human race, Jessica felt a surge of happiness flood her body. She had been discovered, rescued, all the horrors were behind her. She rolled slightly onto her back, looked up at her rescuers, and saw a man unzip his jeans and pull out his erect penis. Beside him was a woman standing open-legged, fingering her bare crotch, dressed like some kinky cartoon character.

“Mmmmnnnmmm” through the gag.

“Dirty slut has peed herself!” from the woman, and suddenly, sickeningly, and totally without any reason whatsoever, the man kicked her viciously right in her stomach.

Jessica doubled up, gurgling. She could hardly breath. Pain lanced into her, and there was nothing she could do to make it better. Another kick, from the woman this time. Point toed leather boots. In her side, just below the ribs. Christ, that hurt….

She rolled and squirmed, retching for breath, unable to stop them as they hoisted her to her feet. The woman was smiling at her, big blue eyes sparkling as if she was high on coke. Her nipples were on show. What the Hell was going on?

“Have a good look, Sweetie. In about an hour you will be licking those little love buds and trying ever so hard to get me all excited so my husband will stop hurting you. Or maybe you’d rather suck my pretty pussy for me, huh?”

The man let go of his penis, but only so he could start to wrench open Jessica’s blouse. She couldn’t step back, her hands were locked behind her, and she suddenly realized that this crazy couple meant it. The bizarre dress of the blonde was for real. She was some sort of sexual psycho. And her stiff-cocked man was now ripping off the teenagers bra. to expose her fine 38” beauty contest winning breasts! His fingers grabbed her nipples and screwed them round with brutal savagery. The gag muffled her first real shriek of agony, but it was enough to turn on Jason.

His wicked wife helped him free the girl from the floor ring and drag her into one of the play rooms. In less than five minutes, Jessica was strapped face up on an “X” shaped wooden cross, naked.

The cross was supported by ropes, holding it some two foot six off the ground, just the right height for Marion to be able to stand astride the victim’s head and by bending her knees slightly, rub her juicy cunt over Jessica’s face.

“Take the gag out, Darling. She can’t lick my pussy with that in her mouth!”

The girl started to protest and beg as soon as she could speak. Jason smashed his fist into her face, cutting her upper lip.

“Shut up, cunt. You only talk if we tell you to. Your new job is to suck cunts and cocks. Do it well and you might live. Fuck up, and we’ll cut you into little pieces. One more word and I’ll hurt you like you can’t even imagine!”

“Oh, hurt her anyway, Darling” Marion cooed. “I like to hear her scream!”

Jason grinned. His cock wanted relief. He stood between the open thighs, positioned his glans at the pink pout of the teenagers love tunnel, and thrust two inches into her dry vagina. The heavy cross swung slightly away from him, but then swung back. He held his ground, and four inches more went into the pretty girls pussy. Kinetic energy at work. A swinging fuck table. Two more weighty surges, and his black curls meshed with hers. She was deliciously tight. He rode her, reached forward to grab those big swinging breast, dug his fingers in as hard as he could, and twisted her trapped tits until she was absolutely shrieking in pain. To his absolute delight, he saw his wife start to pee into the teenagers screaming mouth, the hot yellow shower filling her throat, choking her and making her cough violently, which splashed hot piss all over Marion’s corselette.

“Look what the cunt has done!” Marion snapped. “Pass me your knife, Darling.”

Jason handed her his small folding blade. She snapped it open and slid the point into Jessica’s right breast, slitting open the side curve of the underflesh, a bloody gash from which scarlet streams flowed at once.

“Oh, yes. Cut her!” Jason cried, starting to shaft the spread-eagled girl with deep brutal strokes, wildly excited by the brutality of his grinning wife.

Marion grabbed the bleeding tit by the nipple, pulling upwards until the weighty orb was a cone of creamy flesh with blood pouring from the cut in the base. She stabbed the blade repeatedly into the breast meat, in time with her husband’s deep thrusts, waiting until she could tell he was about to come before she hacked through the aureole and sliced the whole nipple free. He came just as the suddenly tip-less tit sagged down, sliced, pierced, a bloody remnant of its former glorious firmness. With his depraved wife stabbing the helpless blonde, each thrust he had made into the ravished cunt had been made extra delicious because the violent pain made the poor bitch contract her muscles, effectively giving his weapon a vaginal suck-off.

As Jason was grunting in the throes of his climax, another unearthly scream could be heard. Marion chuckled, waving the dripping severed nipple over Jessica’s face, letting blood drip into her mouth. “Sounds like Mom, Dad, and Terry are having some fun, too!”

Galina Wilson was from Bristol. Eighteen, of Eurasian stock, light coffee complexion, tiny waist, sharply peaked breasts, and lovely long legs. She was upside down in another playroom, already naked. Her lovely coils of jet black hair swept the concrete floor as she was buffeted back and forth by the two men fucking her. Bob was enjoying anal rape for the first time since leaving South Africa, Terry faced him, shagging Galina’s cunt. She could do nothing to prevent this brutal double penetration as her arms had been broken at the elbow by Sally, who was now tightening the winch pulling the coffee coloured legs wide apart, urging her husband to fuck their screaming victim ever faster and deeper. Already the muscles in Galina’s thighs were corded. Her body weight hung from her roped ankles, the ropes leading over the winding drums of the makeshift rack. The men could feel each other’s weapons driving deep into vagina and anus, the thin wall of muscular tissue between the two orifices letting the thrusting knobs sometimes rub so tightly they could sense their foreskins peeled back by the ridge of the other glans.

“You want to come or hurt her some more first?” Sally asked, sensing that only a few more turns would probably dislocate the girl’s hips.

Reluctantly, the men pulled out. Bob had brown smears on his penis.

“Make her suck her shit off you, Bob!” Terry suggested, his own cock showing a few traces of blood. Possibly Galina had been a virgin. She certainly screamed loud enough when he first drove into her slit.

They pushed a table under her torso so she now lay face up with her taut stretched legs angled upwards and wide apart, her broken arms dangling helplessly off the edge of the table top.

Bob climbed on the table, straddled the girl, sitting on her belly. “You heard my wife, slut. Your going to suck your filthy arse shit off my cock, understand? You refuse or dare to try and bite me, and I’m going to cut your tits off slice by slice and push the bits right up your filthy fuckhole arse.”

“Let’s just show her how much pain she can feel if she refuses, Darling. Come on, Terry. Grab a pair of pliers and let’s take a cunt petal each.”

As he walked round to get to the spread pussy, Terry grabbed one of the girl’s hands and brutally jerked her broken arm, actually hearing the shattered elbow make a grating noise before the sound was obliterated by her agonised shriek. He had been surprised how vicious Sally had been, using a lump hammer to smash the elbows without seeming to experience any remorse. He knew, of course, that in South Africa she had helped flog and sexually mistreat the servants, but smashing a girl’s elbows was a bit more drastic than flogging her backside with an elephant cock quirt.

He stood beside her, following her lead, clamping his pliers onto one of the swollen pussy lips below the black fur triangle. Despite the age gap, he found Sally sexually very exciting. She had a fine body, the Ann Summers outfit showing it to full advantage, and she was amazingly depraved. That made her highly desirable, and in the build up to this torture fest, Terry had fucked her quite a few times and loved every second of her company. Now, squeezing the fleshy petal of a helpless nude captive’s pussy and standing alongside her as she did the same to the other labia, Terry realized he had been a fool not to welcome sadism into his life a lot, lot, earlier.

“Now!”

“AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!”

They stretched Galina’s pussy lips wide apart, stretching them like puppy dog ears, twisting and crushing the sensitive petals at the same time.

“You ready to suck, bitch?” Bob grinned.

“Yesss…I’ll do it….please don’t hurt me again…..please…”

He lifted his loins over her face, lowered his shitty knob into her mouth, and instructed her on how she was to lick around the ridge, push the foreskin back with her tongue, rim him and then suck the knob into her mouth.

Her shapely tits were squashing against his hairy arse cheeks, exciting, begging to be hurt……

“Now all the way, slut. Suck me good!” and he thrust his hard shaft down into her throat. Never having had a man in her mouth before, though she had once rubbed a boy until his dick sprayed globs of sticky stuff over her hand, Galina was sure she was going to be suffocated, choked, or both, and coughed and tried to twist her head away. With seven inches of manhood in her larynx, that was not a wise move. Her teeth caught Bob’s shaft and he withdrew angrily.

“You filthy nigger whore…you bit me, you bitch. Now you’ll learn what real pain is,” he shouted. “Hurt her cunt. Do it now!”

Between her legs, Terry and Sally needed no second bidding. Their pincers clamped harder than ever, and they began to wrench the girl’s cunt lips to shreds.

Bob grabbed a hammer and began to smash the offending teeth out of Galina’s mouth, crushing her lips and breaking her jaw and cheek-bone in the process. Her blood made nice warm lubrication as he shoved his cock back down her throat. The bitch couldn’t bite now.

Between her legs, the pincers ripped her cunt lips into bloody shreds, digging deeper in the scarlet slit to grab morsels of her vaginal walls to rip from her body. Her clitoris was claimed by Sally, her own sex throbbing with unholy excitement as she seized the bloody nub of pleasure and after twisting it round three full circles ripped it out of the lip-less hole. They dug deeper, nipping unseen gobbets of meat from deep inside the poor creature’s pussy and dropping the slivers of flesh back in the gushing hole, ramming them cervix deep with the steel pincers.

Bob pressed down on the squirming girl, his cock as far as it could go down her throat. He was still using the hammer, smashing it onto her shoulders, her ribs, her pert breasts, hearing bones crack, feeling the shocks of agony like ripples of bliss along the length of his buried penis. He drove the hammer inside her eyes, two tremendous blows that pulped the sockets and exploded the eyeballs as he shot his sperm into her throat in a mad ecstasy of savage lust.

She was probably unconscious, but her body was still responding as the strips of raw meat were being torn from a wide scarlet gash between her legs. Her face was almost destroyed.

Sally saw the bloody pulp where Galina’s eyes had been. “Jesus, Bob. You gonna skull-fuck her?”

They had often logged on to Hafnium’s site….it was one of his predilections, to drive his cock into a girl’s brain through the eye socket.

If he had any erection left, Bob might have tried it. If the hole through the socket bone was big enough, you could possibly drive a good stiff cock right into her living brain!

Maybe worth a try on another victim…

He picked up a knife and started to carve off her breasts. The other two changed their pincers for blades and began to slit open Galina’s belly and slice pieces off her rump.

In South Africa on the farm one got used to gutting animals, and it held no horrors for them to slit the shuddering female open from vulva to breast bone. There was the smell, of course, but that unpleasantness was more than compensated for by the incredible feeling of total supreme power as they took a pretty girl’s life.

Meanwhile Marion had sliced off Jessica’s right breast completely, and was now using a gas jet in an attempt to cauterise the huge circular wound to stop or at least slow down the blood loss. The smell of roasting meat was really appetising. This was the first time the couple had been able to torture a victim without regard for making it last. Before, burns had been individual, cigarettes or the tip of a heated brand. This time, Marion was virtually cooking the girl’s chest, the blue flame boiling blood and searing meat in a demented wave of cruelty that had the poor girl squealing and shuddering, almost out of her mind with pain and the horror of what was being done to her body.

Her husband had taken back the knife and was skinning the trimmed dark pelt of Marion’s pudenda, a neat cut up from the very base side-line off her swollen outer labia majoris, twist and slit over the mound just above the hairline of dark tightly wound black curls, then down the far side and make a slit into the bottom of both petals. Grip them at that base line, twist fingers really hard, and wrench upwards as hard as one possibly can.

The slut goes even more insane as her pube starts to rip and  Jason feels his wrist sprayed with hot blood and piss. Twist even harder, inhaling the roast meat smell of bubbling fat as he watches his evil wife playing the blue gas jet over the sizzling raw circle, tug and actually feel the meat start to tear, his hand rising slowly at first, then with  a sudden rush as the slit edges can not prevent his cruel fingers from literally tearing off her cunt meat…..

He cuts up and downwards in the lipless vagina, opening her so he can force his fist inside her, pointing the knife in the sperm-wet tunnel first so that as he fist fucks her the blade slides straight into the ring of her raised cervix and he can start to slice his way into her womb with every brutal fisting thrust.

Marion giggles. “Christ, you’ll kill the bitch, Darling!”

“So we’ve got plenty more. Cut the other tit off. Slice her to fuckin’ shreds. Let’s really fuck her up !”

Marion found a long-handled carving knife. With the deadly gas jet held in her left hand, now playing randomly over breast, arms, shoulders and belly, she used the carving knife like a light-weight machete, swinging it in a wide arc to lop off Jessica’s remaining nipple, then whip thin meaty slices off the fountaining udder with repeated slicing strokes that cut actual wafers of slightly oval shape getting larger and larger as the knife neared the wider base of the meaty cone.

Suddenly, as she was just having to saw off the meat from the rib bones, Marion saw her husband’s knife blade rip upwards from inside the girl’s womb, erupting like those monsters in Alien. She had to drop the knife and the gas jet in order to grab her own shuddering pussy and manipulate the surge of shuddering climactic energy that erupted into a fantastic tingling orgasm, spasming her thighs, tingling right down to her toes, and making her yelp almost as if in pain as it burst inside her with a fire-cracker detonation.

Sweating, her blonde hair shaken loose from the severe bun and now tumbling to her shoulders, Marion gasped for breath like an asthmatic.

“Oh, my fucking God….That was the dirtiest most gorgeous fucking sight I’ve ever had…..Oh, God….is she dead yet?”

“I think she’s past caring, anyway” Jason growled as he pulled his arm out of the slashed and ruptured sex hole of the lightly shuddering but now silent victim.

“One down, plenty more to go !”

Model Bus Two .

This is part two of the story. It will make more sense if you refresh your memory by re-reading Part One before continuing.

DO NOT PROCEED UNLESS YOU ENJOY STORIES ABOUT EXTREME TORTURE, VIOLENCE, SNUFF AND OTHER FICTIONAL HORRORS.

Part Two.

The terrible tale of torture continues:-

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Day Two.

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Part one.

.

.Clair Melbourne.

Seventeen years old, roped in a small and dark cell, the smell of her own pee making her feel sick, her tight jeans clinging damp on her legs, wet down to below her knees. She had tried so hard, but it was no use. Even though she had not eaten anything for what seemed like forever, she had to relieve herself. The idea of doing it in her panties was disgusting, but she had been holding it in for ages and was now suffering serious stomach cramps. She just had to let go, face darkening as she blushed with shame to feel her own excrement squish between the fabric of her tight jeans and her own flesh. The smell was even worse now. What on Earth was happening? Who had captured her, and why was she strapped to this infernal board?

Under her shapely chest, her strong heart beat faster than it should, fear driving her into a panic. She seemed to be alternately hot and cold, not quite sure if it was the actual temperature of the cell that changed or her own fluctuating levels of dread.

She was strapped to a sort of sloping board, ankles together, wrists drawn to the side, then bent down and pulled under the board to be roped together behind it. A third rope went over her throat, loose enough for her to breathe easily, but preventing her from being able to tilt her torso forward far enough to look down at her own roped body.

Clair Melbourne had been the carnival queen at Tamworth for two years running. She had shoulder length jet black hair, a slightly Spanish complexion, the sort of figure that should carry a health warning to stop young men having a heart attack, and was quite astonishingly, a complete virgin in the arts of sex.

Not mentally….she knew all about what went where and so on, but her upbringing had been very Catholic, mother actually a Spanish immigrant and a devoted Mary worshipper.

With her mother and father, she attended mass every week, went to confession, and raised the young priests’ blood pressure when she told him of any impure thoughts she had had about the boys in her favourite pop group. But she had kept her legs closed and her hands and mouth unsullied by manly organs, and this despite having tits like two rockets and hips above the most shapely legs a man could wish for, and a pert shapely bottom that had a way of swishing from side to side when she walked that attracted a mans’ eyes like bees to honey…..

Which is why she was selected to go to the beauty contest, of course, and why the poor bitch was now destined to suffer the agonies of Hell despite being such a good little Catholic girl! Life just isn’t fair, sometimes.

The five sadists had slept well. As the farm was fully equipped to feed and stable up to sixty horses, things like cooking for all their new guests were reasonably easy….a huge vat of oats, milk, sugar, and that would make a nourishing porridge that could feed the girls without a lot of work.

They decided to take food to their captives and enjoy gloating over their helplessness. Only when the smell of  the first cell hit them did they realize the extent of a personal hygiene problem. The girls had all crapped themselves and stank like a shithouse. That was the result of tying them up in immobile positions. They should have given their guests buckets and chained them on some sort of short leash so they could at least attend to calls of nature. But then, if the girls were clothed, they would have needed their hands free to be able to undress. See, there’s always a problem when you start thinking about the details!

“Let’s strip them all, wash them down. Get the shot guns. They won’t give us any trouble.”

“No. Do them one or two at a time. We’re in no hurry, and it should be fun making them get naked and wash their shitty arces.”

“Yes….two at a time…make them wash each other and maybe do a bit of fiddling around on the side!”

“Start with the driver. He might enjoy being told to wash some beauty queens’ backside!”………

And so Clair Melbourne found herself being unbound in the presence of four men and two women. One of the men was obviously a captive, gagged and shackled. Despite Clairs’ pleas and desperate requests, they refused to talk to her other than to order her about.

Two of them were pointing double barrelled   shotguns at her all the time, so she did not dare to refuse to do as she was told.

The sadists found it almost funny that the girl kept trying to apologise for having soiled herself, obviously as embarrassed by that as she was frightened by being ordered about. They had looped a chain around her throat to lead her from the cell to an oddly shaped swimming pool full of warm water. It was long and narrow, with a sloping ramp entry and exit at either end. Not being a horsey type, Clair did not recognise it as an equine exercise bath.

The driver, (chained by leg shackles and wearing a metal collar inside which were inch long blunt spikes that were no problem if you didn’t try and pull against the leash Sally led him by,) had not messed himself and had been allowed to have a pee before being led along for these nasty little games.

“Listen, Clair. I’ll tell you this once, and you need to understand that if you do not obey every order we give you, we will hurt you. It won’t be a little smack on the wrist sort of hurt, but something really unpleasant like having one of your fingers cut off. Nod your head if you understand……Good girl. Now this is a sort of swimming pool bath, and we want you to get all that disgusting mess off, so first you have to undress.

Don’t worry. We’ve all seen girls in the nude before, so spare your blushes. You might be a beauty queen, but you’ve just got two tits and a pussy like all the others.”

It was Jason organising the threats. He had the sort of no-nonsense voice that made you not want to doubt he meant what he said.

He unfastened the drivers’ gag, half expecting a torrent of threats and swearing. To his surprise, the man just licked his dry lips and watched silently as Clair reluctantly started to unfasten her soiled jeans and wriggle them down her legs, horribly aware of the shitty streaks doing so caused.

“What’s your name, Driver?” he said.

“Bert….Bert Landers. What’s going on here?…JESUS!!!”

The man staggered sideways, suddenly violently reminded that the spiked collar could cut his throat to shreds with very little effort on Sallys’ part. She had just given a sharp tug on the leash. “My son asked your name, Bert, not anything else. Learn to speak only when you are told to, or you could find yourself bleeding to death ever so quickly !”

“Oh, come on, Mom. He’s bound to wonder how he got so lucky….I mean, not many blokes get to see prime pussy like this stripping off in front of them. I’ll tell you, Bert. We sort of kidnapped your passengers, and we kept them tied up for so long that they’ve all got a bit dirty….so we thought you might like to give a few of them a rinse down. Hope you don’t mind them smelling a bit, but when they are cleaned up, it should be worth the effort. You up to it, a bit of posh totty cleaning? It’s got to be more fun than rinsing down your fucking coach !”

The driver looked at the others. They were all smiling expectantly as if he had walked in to a party at a golf course and they were asking if he’d like to play a round.

Despite not showing it, he was actually scared witless. If these crazy bastards had got all his passengers, they must be a well organised mob, not just some mixed up fucking rapist on the prowl. And if they were able to abduct his entire coach, they would probably have no qualms about putting a bullet in his head if he proved troublesome.

Best to stay compliant, wait and see, plan escape or await rescue. If in doubt, side with the bastard with the biggest gun.

“Sure. What do I do ?”

“Help Clair down the slope and wash the shit off her. Walk her through the bath and out the other side, then maybe towel her down a bit. You up for that ?”

Bert nodded. “Clothes?”

“No. Don’t worry about your trousers. If you’re a good lad, we might take the leg irons off so you can strip later.”

Clair was peeling her panties down. About a third of her backside was brown  with a fairly loose bowel movement spread around by being made to walk. It was over her hands, and she was starting to weep very quietly.

“And your top, Dearie !” Marion  snapped. “Naked, then you can let Bert wash you down !”

“There’s a hose, Bert. Use that first to get the worst off before she goes down into the main bath. Then take that pail and sponge, lather her up with that soap, and rub her down properly.”

Naked, Clair sobbed with shame as the shackled man turned the hose on her. The water was cold, and to her dismay, Clair felt her nipples sharpen into peaks as the cold affected her circulation.

“Turns you on, does it, Sweetie? Like a man to wash you down, eh? I bet you’re a hot little bitch judging by those pointy tit tips! ” Marion laughed, delighted by the rosy flush of shame on the sobbing girls’ cheeks.

Following orders, Bert directed the hose all over the sobbing girl, walking through the bath and up the slope the other side. He carried the bucket over and used the soapy water to sponge her down.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ve got to do what they say!” he said, reaching towards the shivering naked girl with the sponge. She had tried to keep her back to him, hands covering her breasts and pubic areas, and Bert gently mopped her shoulders with the warmer soapy water.

Sally yanked the neck chain, and Bert screeched with pain. “What?”

“Come on, you stupid man. She’s naked, she’s good looking, and you’ve got the chance to feel her all over. Rub her tits, wash her pussy, get that shit out of her arce crack or we’ll make you fucking suffer!”

Bert swallowed his nervousness. Two shot guns, a chained neck, threats of punishment, or rub some poor naked girls cunt!  No contest…. He caught hold of her arm, pulled it out of the way, and pushed the sponge between her legs, rubbing upwards into her slit.

She tried to pull away, screaming “No…you can’t do this…” and she was taken completely by surprise when Robert stepped behind her and smashed the stock of his shot gun into the small of her back, sending her crashing face down on the concrete.

She grazed her face, scrambled to her knees, and was trying to feel where she was bleeding when a second vicious blow with the gun hit the back of her head. She fell down, almost unconscious.

“Jesus, you’ll kill her!” Bert cried, dropping to his knees to roll the groaning girl onto her back and tenderly sponge the blood from cuts to her cheeks and forehead.

Jason laughed. “That’s the general idea, Bert, but not until after we’ve had some fun with her. Stop being so gentle with the silly cow. Come on, shove that sponge up her cunt.”

Marion giggled. “Ooogh, yes. Come on, let’s see you open her pussy and give her a nice intimate clean out!”

Robert used the barrel of his shotgun to push the girls’ legs apart then rested it against her chest. “Lie still, Cunt, or I’ll see what you look like with your tits shot off! Go on, Bert. Let’s see a bit of enthusiasm. Feel her up the pussy, now!”

The driver glanced around for some possibility of help, but saw only the five sadists smiling expectantly, no pity, just evil lust in their eyes.

He spread the tightly furled smooth satin petals of Clairs’ sex apart. He hadn’t been this close to such a young pussy for a long time. What would his wife say if she could see him now, kneeling over a spread-eagled naked teenage girl, slowly working a wet sponge inside her vagina? He tried not to let the sight of that fresh light pink crease affect him, but it was impossible not to imagine kissing her down there, or sliding his cock up instead of the sponge….oh, Christ, he was getting a hard-on….

Only a small amount of the sponge went in her before he could feel resistance. He looked round at the woman holding his leash. “She…well…I think she’s a virgin…I mean, it won’t go in any further….”

Sally laughed, delighted with the news. Plucking a cherry was always a special treat.

Her daughter got down on her knees the other side of the sobbing girl and pushed Berts’ hand aside to check. Sure enough, her probing finger encountered that elastic web the other side of the urethra. The pretty little beauty queen had an intact cherry.

“Yes, she’s never been broken in. Who’s going to have the honour? You want another notch on your score-card Darling?” she smiled at her husband.

Jason shook his head. “No…let the driver have her. Come on, right there on the ground. Break her in, Bert. If you do a good job, maybe we won’t shoot you after all!”

Marion unfastened the leg shackles and pulled the wet trousers from the driver. She gave a delighted laugh when she saw his prick was already at half mast. Obviously, touching up the girl had not been so dreadful after all.

“The randy sod’s already getting a stiffie”  she grinned. “Shall I give him a starter?”

Her husband nodded. He knew how skilled Marions’ fingers could be when wrapped around a mans’ cock. The driver did not try to resist. He knew these people would have no qualms about shooting him if he refused their demands, and the sight of  Clairs’ open thighs was still making his blood pressure rise.

He groaned as Marion folded her fingers round his penis. She somehow managed to alternate the pressure of her fingers while slowly moving her hand in the traditional wanking rhythm, the result feeling just like being sucked off……and if there was one thing Bert enjoyed above all else it was being sucked off.

His wife wouldn’t do it since they got married, saying that she had only performed fellatio before they wed, but now it would be a sin as they could “do it properly”, and, anyway, she hated the taste.

His manhood grew almost instantly, a good sized dong with a large convex knob and a thick foreskin already getting shiny with pre-come as Marions’ actions roused his lust.

Why not? It wasn’t his fault the poor cow had been kidnapped, and if he didn’t fuck her, one of the other three men would.

“Get down…lick her out, Bert. Give her a bit of lubrication before you break her open”, Marion growled, grinning up at her parents as the man eagerly sank his face into the open valley, tongue probing the slightly soapy slit. She let go of the now fully aroused penis, and Bert immediately shifted round and dropped his loins onto the squealing beauty queen. “I think he’s going to enjoy this” she laughed.

Clair was not enjoying it at all. She tried to struggle, starting to beat Berts’ shoulders with her clenched fists. Marion and Jason grabbed her arms and stretched her out. She was helpless.

“Go on, Bert. Fuck the bitch….Shag the little stuck up cow senseless…”

There was a high pitched shriek and Clair arched up in pain as the thrusting manhood split open her hymen and Bert lunged deep inside her virginal sheath, lubricated by her maidens blood.

God, she was tight. He had never had such a thrilling fuck. The way she was squirming and crying underneath him was fantastic.

He felt a distinct flow of guilt counterbalanced by the enormous pleasure of domination. Never a violent man, he was amazed at his own ferocity, humping up and down on the wriggling nude with brutal eagerness, driving his cock as deep as he could without any feeling of compassion for the unwilling victim.

He heard her screams, and to his shamed dismay found that they heightened his pleasure. He wanted to hurt her, ravish, despoil, subjugate her to the power of his manhood, spear her open and hear her cries of despair as his body triumphed over her womanhood.

Christ, he must be a fucking pervert, a bloody rapist.

He grabbed her tits and let his fingers gouge into the warmth of the full firm globes, hurting her, seeing her eyes wide with shock and full of fear and pain.

He drew his cock almost out of the clinging tube, raising his loins on high, then crashing down with all his power, battering his pube into hers with all the force he could muster.

“Take that, you fuckslut” he growled, twisting her trapped breasts violently, hearing her scream get louder as the added pain brought her to greater desperation.

He was hardly aware of his captors, intent on shafting the deepest recesses of his poor squirming victim, not hearing their crude shouts of gleeful encouragement.

He was driving hard and fast, balls tightening as the release of his load became an overpowering necessity, and suddenly he could feel a womans’ hands on his arce cheeks, spreading them, helping with downward pressure on the in strokes, a wriggling female finger probing inside his rectum.

God, it felt sexy. He gave a roar of pure lust and slammed down with every ounce of power, releasing the spurting jets of jism deep inside the bleeding cunt.

When Sally hauled him to his feet, the driver stood in a sort of shocked silence, looking down at the blood leaking slit of  Clairs pussy, a grey bubble trail of come oozing out and trickling between her spread thighs.

He looked at his own shrunken penis, smeared with her juices and her blood.

The older man with the gun slapped him on the back. “Fucking good job, Son. You broke that sluts’ virginity really well. And I saw how you liked to squash her tits. Maybe you are going to enjoy your stay with us after all. We’ve got them all, you know. And we’re going to fuck the lot of them, so you might be able to work that prick of yours in a few more tight cunts if you play your cards right.”

“Or up their arces!” Sally cooed. “Do you like fucking girls up the back door, Bert?”

He shook his head. “I….I never….I mean, have you really got all my passengers?”

“Course we have. And they’re all shitty from being tied up with their knickers on. So are you going to help wash them off, or are you still going to need to be forced?”

“I…..well, I suppose I’ve got to do what you say, haven’t I?”.

Terry lowered his gun. “Take the collar off. I think he loves fucking unwilling pussy just like us. If he tries to escape or do anything wrong, we’ll let you girls cut his cock off.”

Marion dropped down in front of the poor man and took hold of his dangling weapon. She parted her lips and suddenly his cock was in her mouth and she was sucking him, her tongue reaming around the ridge of his glans, probing under his foreskin, licking the salty blood from his tool.

Her mother unlocked the studded choker. Free of all restraint, if Bert was going to try and resist, now was the time. But he was experiencing the most exquisite sensations in his cock, already feeling the blood flow and his shrunken tool expanding. This young and very good looking woman was on her knees, fondling his balls, bobbing her head up and down on his rising tool, sending waves of pleasure through every nerve in his body. This was the sort of experience a man only dreamt of.

The seventeen year old bitch on the concrete was trying to get to her feet, both her hands sort of pressing and kneading the lower part of her belly as if she could squeeze out the man juice so brutally deposited deep inside her vagina. Her long black hair hung forward over her face, hiding her tears, and the bruised scratches on her forehead. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. It was not only the physical pain of being raped but the more distressing mental suffering of her Catholic religious beliefs that hurt her so badly.

Poor bitch had no idea that this was nothing compared to what lay in store for her shapely teenage body!

Bob jabbed her with his shotgun. “Come on, fuckslut, back to your cell. We’ve got other dirty cunts to clean up.”

Just for a moment, she looked as if she might resist. Bob was all prepared to slam her in the belly with the gun, but she suddenly drooped her shoulders, giving in to the inevitable, walking ahead of him, crying and defeated.

His wife went with him, and they soon returned leading two hooded girls bound together, stumbling along and cursing in a most unladylike way.

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Day Two.

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Part Two.

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Jackie and Brenda.

..

“What the hell are you bastards doing? I’ll have the law on you fucking creeps. Let us go right now or you’ll go to fuckin’ jail for fuckin’ life!”

Further expletives may have followed, but Bob had pulled and pushed the bound girls right to the edge of the horse wash, and he stepped aside and laughed as Sally gave the girls an almighty shove that sent them over the edge and into the cold deep water, effectively stopping the stream of threats and abusive language.

Marion, still tongueing the driver, was delighted to feel his already swollen prick give a little jolt to further erection as he saw two lovely but soiled beauty queens being ill treated.

She slid her lips off his length and patted the purple dome gently.

“Hold it, Tiger. You’ve got to work for your jollies. There’s a couple of fillies to clean up, then maybe we’ll get back to using that stiffie of yours some more. Go on, strip and clean the new girls!”

The said girls were spluttering and coughing, trying to stand up to avoid being drowned and finding it very difficult whilst roped and blind folded.

Bert looked at them and saw how the water had made their chests show every detail, like in those wet tee shirt shows. There were four great hard-nippled tits down there.

He realised his hard on was still bobbing like a flagpole. His brain tried to tell him that he should be feeling outrage and concern for the two girls splashing in the water.

His cock told him to go and strip the bitches naked!

His cock won.

They gave him a knife, like a thin Bowie, one side blunt, the other honed razor sharp. It enabled him to cut soaking wet clothing from struggling girl meat without damaging the goods, and he set to work slitting open the short skirts and tight tee shirts covering beauty queen assets.

Being almost up to their necks in water, the girls were unable to do much to stop this frightening attack. At least, being in water, their shit stained bodies were virtually cleaned as they were stripped, little brown clouds swirling from their lower regions.

It was actually quite hard work. Bert was panting from his exertions as he finally got to slit the bra. straps and the pantie sides to reveal the bodies to their captors.

He followed orders, pushing the girls up the sloping exit of the horse bath, his eyes feasting on two sets of shapely buttocks jiggling in front of him. Both girls were still hooded and bound with their wrists together, making them have to move sort of crab-like and ensuring they could offer absolutely no effective resistance.

“Well done, Bert. Meet Jackie Dawson and Brenda Parsons. Both sweet seventeen. Let’s see which one was bad-mouthing us, shall we? You can pull their hoods off now.”

The girls shook their wet hair, blinked in the bright light, and gasped with shock to see the naked driver with his cock at half mast, a drooling grin on his face as he let his eyes roam over their nude bodies.

“What the fuck do you think you’re fuckin’ doing?” the taller girl snarled, pulling at her bound wrists but only succeeding in making the other girl yelp as her wrists were jerked upwards.“Jackie!” Bob chuckled. “God, girl, you’ve got some mouth on you. Pretty little blonde bimbo and you swear like a trooper.”

“Just get these sodding ropes off me, Mister, and you fuckin’ wait. I’ll have the law on you. You’ll fuckin’ die inside for doing this to us!”

Then Bob hit her.

It was not a gentle blow.

He slammed his balled fist with savage force, hitting her just below her belly button.

She doubled up, making a sort of “whoosh” noise and jerked Brenda over, so both of them tumbled to the ground.

Bob’s right foot hit her full force between her legs. She tried to roll into a ball, but his boot slammed into her waist just above the kidneys. He gave her one more in the belly.

“Alright, bitch? Want to swear at me some more? You think you’re going to get help?Don’t be so stupid. You are a cunt, and we are your owners. You’ll be fucked senseless or beaten black and blue if we feel like it. And you’ll do what you’re told or I will take that knife from Bert and cut your breasts off just for the fun of it!”

The sudden violence shook Bert. It was one thing to use a woman sexually, even against her will, but hitting her like this was……well, it did seem a bit extreme.

Marion saw that his cock had drooped. Time to test him. See if sex was strong enough to pervert his morality.

She stood beside him, looking down at the two young nudes. “Come on, Bert. Don’t get all soft and tender. These two are just fuck meat. Think of all the men who have wanted to touch them and got nowhere. A right pair of cock-teasers, these two. But we are going to teach them all about sex, Bert. My husband and my father and mother and I will enjoy ravishing them. My brother in law will join in, of course. It’s a family thing….we like unwilling pussy!

And then there’s you, Bert. And you have got to choose sides. Lone defender of these beauty queen sluts, which means we’ll probably have to kill you, or happy rapist getting to stick his cock up some very luscious pussy? I know you like being sucked…..how’d you like this mouthy bitch to do it for you?”

Bert looked round at the others. Oddly, he realised he had not been ashamed of standing in front of them virtually naked. They were all smiling, but not in a normal friendly sort of way. It was more like they were ready to pounce, the smiles just a thin veneer over their real faces which were full of lust and cruelty.

Sally licked her lips and began to rub her hand over the crotch of her jeans.

“Come on, Bert. You’ve got a nice cock. I’d like to feel you up my pussy some time. Don’t worry about Robert. He likes his wife to love cock just like he loves cunt!”

This actually turned Bert on more than a little. The forty five year old was a very desirable woman, and Bert knew the value of experienced partners. They may have a few lines or a bit of spare flesh, but they knew how to use their bodies…..and if her daughter was anything to go by, Sally would be fantastic.

“You’ve got to help us!” squealed Brenda, realizing the driver was the only person present who could be on her side.

Bert looked down at her, seeing the wide blue eyes below the wet frame of tousled blonde locks, the fear and desperate hope in those eyes. He looked at her breasts, bigger than the other girls. Large nipples, pointing in the cold.

And lower down, the fine line of her crease, fair hair so fine that at first glance it looked as if she was shaved. Christ, she was a nice piece of ass!

So he kicked her in her stomach.

It wasn’t hard, like the kicks Bob gave the other girl, but it shattered the hope in Brendas’ eyes, her face seeming to crumple as she knew with sickening clarity that any hope of help had just been denied.

It was a sort of pivotal moment for the kidnappers, welcoming a new man. They realized that things were moving too slowly. At this rate, they would not de-crap the captives before dark. So everyone joined in, dragging terrified soiled captives from their cells, stripping and hosing them down, then bundling them back to captivity, naked and wet, steel anchor chains to their ankles to prevent escape.

The last girl was Tracy Dart, a very tall big-built girl with short dark hair set in tight curls. She fought with astonishing strength as Robert and Terry dragged her to the horse dip. Eventually, they had to punch her in the belly a few times before she sank to the ground and they could start to hack off her soiled clothing.

Down to her panties, and she tried with amazing courage to wriggle free of the four male hands.

Terry chopped her in the throat, and she collapsed on her back, legs trembling as if in a spastic attack, gasping for air.

Bob bent forward, gripped the waistband of the shit filled panties, and yanked them down her legs.

For a moment or two, no-one noticed. Things were a bit brown and smelly.

Then Terry gasped “She’s got a cock!”

And the gang collected to stare down at the lovely full breasted curly haired captive, and her small but seemingly perfectly formed prick!

“God, we’ve got ourselves a Lady-boy!” Jason laughed, turning the hose on the area of attraction and exposing Tracy’s “manhood” in stark clarity.

“Well, that’s a first!” Marion laughed. “We thought we were going to fuck her, but it looks like she’ll fuck us instead!”

.

Day Two.

.

Part Three. Evening.

.

Hear Them Screaming.

.

Clair was naked and spread out in the centre of the small concrete block stable, suspended about two foot off the ground. Her long black hair swept the floor as she turned her head from side to side, looking vainly for some help, whimpering with the pain of being suspended in such an open position, and terribly terribly frightened. These monsters had raped her without pity. God alone knew what they were going to do now!

Her ankles and wrists had leather collars fitted with steel shackles, and the shackles were tied by nylon rope to iron rings set in the blockwork high at each corner of the converted stable.

Against the wall and facing her wide-spread legs, a second girl wept softly, spread in a similar “X” but this time upright. Naomi Watts, nineteen years old, a girl with quite small but very pointed breasts, a tiny waist that somehow made her breasts look bigger than they were, and a shaved pussy that had very pouting lips as if she was turned on and swollen, even though sex was certainly not on her mind as she looked at the hanging nude in front of her and shivered despite the warmth of the cell. That brazier suggested branding irons, and she was stripped and chained to a wall. Things did not look good.

Between the open legs of Clair stood a big copper vat and below it was a metal gas ring, heating cooking oil inside the vat.

In the corner of the cell stood a metal brazier full of glowing coals. Resting in the coals were various metal implements.

“Who are those awful people?” Naomi sobbed. “What are they going to do with us?”

“They raped me!” Clair gasped. “The driver did it. They made me undress and he washed me then they told him to ….well….he did it! I haven’t ever been with a man before. And ….oh,God…..I think they are crazy. They said things, horrible things, that they were going to do to me….”

“But…..I can’t move. They put these chains on my wrists. And there’s …. Well, what looks like iron rods and things heating in a fire over there. Oh, Clair, what are they going to do to us?”

“Make you scream!” a womans voice answered.

The reinforced door had opened, and kinkily attired men and women piled into the room. The men had leather gauntlets, boots, and aprons that hung down to below their groins. The women were in leather corselette type outfits, boots, suspenders and long mesh stockings.

Everyone carried whips or canes. It looked like the cast of some kinky porn movie.

It was Sally who had answered the question, a wicked lustful smile on her face as she surveyed the flawless curves of the helpless victims. “We’re going to hurt you. Torture you, actually. If you are lucky, you’ll die quite quickly. If not, you’ll live to suffer even more horrible torture until you can’t take any more!”

Bert was a bit shocked by Sally’s candour. He had spent an hour in bed with her earlier in the day, had been in the middle of fucking her when her husband and daughter came into the room, and then had been transported to a Heaven of utter delight when they joined in on the bed, tits and cocks and cunts and mouths blending in a sort of dream orgy that left him drained and exhausted.

They had all talked about things they had done to girls, and though to begin with some of the things they said had made him feel rather queasy, after a while he found the details less and less disturbing. So they were perverts….but by God, they were sexy bastards!

After a meal, they had given him Viagra and said they were going to fuck the daylights out of a couple of beauty queens.

Seeing the girls spread out so helpless and hearing Sally talk of torture was a bit frightening, but his cock was starting to need some relief, and his eye was drawn to Clairs delicious black bush above the tight little pussy lips he had broken into earlier…..

A whip whistled through the air, and Clair screamed as it landed on her gorgeous full breasts.

Her body bucked in mid air, a highly erotic sight, and the whip sliced up between her wide open thighs and cut into her cleft, promoting an even more desperate scream and frantic useless struggling.

Then a cane slammed into Naomis stomach, the air whooshing from her lungs in shocked pain. Jason snapped her again, top of the thighs, then a vicious uppercut into the swell of those sharp pointy tits.

Marion straddled Clairs head, lowering her crotchless panties down to rub excited pussy lips over the Catholic girls face, muffling the next scream as her husband flogged the spread thighs.

All at once, the cell became full of screams, two innocent young females suffering violent attacks on their helpless bodies with no hope of escape.

Bert found himself kneeling between Clairs open legs, stiff cock pointing at her slit. Sally got behind him, virtually pushed his buttocks forward so the tip of his prick nudged into that tight little pussy hole.

“Fuck the bitch!” she growled, and shoved him forward. He could not resist it, and rammed his hard prick forward into the suspended girl with a cruel lust, his feeling of power enhanced when he saw the whips and canes flog down onto her breasts in front of him and felt the contractions of her vagina clench his manhood when the pain spasmed her entire body…..

Robert took the standing girl, thudding into her, grinding her back and buttocks against the rough concrete walls as he shagged her deep and hard.

When both men came, there was a sort of general pause while the fiends planned their next outrage.

Both girls were re-secured the opposite way, Clair hanging arched down slightly with her beautiful bottom uppermost, Naomi facing the wall.

Terry and Jason had their turns now, but they took both girls up the arceholes.

Neither girl had experienced anal penetration before. They screamed delightfully when hard male flesh opened up their virginal backsides and thrust as far as possible into their forbidden holes.

A newcomer to Viagra, Bert was already hard again, watching in drooling delight to see the brutal penetrations. When Terry suggested he lie on the floor and ram up into Clairs cunt from below, he had no hesitation.

The feeling inside her as his own penis felt Terrys sliding in and out just the other side of a thin wall of tissue was something he could not have ever dreamed of, a sensation that tingled through his body as if he had been injected with some astounding sex drug. It was simply awesome, the tightness, the wickedness, and the sheer brutal dominance of double fucking the poor beauty queen was mind blowing. To his own surprise, Bert found himself thinking how good it would be to stick a knife up Clairs cunt and fuck her with that……..

The men needed rest, so the women took over.

This meant things got a lot worse for the captives.

Back in their original positions, Clair was being made to lick cunt, and Naomi was being shafted by Sally who was wearing her favourite giant spiked dildoe!

Blood seeped from Naomis pussy. The dildoe had quarter inch metal spines. They tore little grooves into the vaginal lining, every brutal thrust bringing a new shriek of pain from the suffering victim.

Then things got much more serious.

Robert had a various metal funnels, odd ladles, and a sort of metal injection kit with a six inch long needle made in stainless steel.

And Bert realized why they were wearing those leather aprons.

One of the more ordinary funnels was pushed into Clairs vagina. There were small loops of metal on the outer rim of the funnel, and Bob ran a leather strap through the loops, under the suspended girl, thus securing the funnel in her cunt.

Using a long handled copper ladle, he took some of the near boiling oil from the vat, and carefully let it trickle into the funnel.

The sadists watched closely, listening to the sizzle of sound as the bubbling oil met the deep inner part of Clairs vagina, right on the circular ridge forming her os, the mouth of her womb.

The cry that followed was extraordinary, vibrating off the walls, the poor girl arching upwards a seemingly impossible way as agony erupted deep within her belly. Bob dipped the ladle and poured a drop more down the funnel. Wisps of steam that smelled slightly of cooking emerged from the funnel. He did it again, more this time, a whole ladle full of sizzling oil burning into the depths of Clairs vagina, spreading into every fleshy nook and cranny, searing her delicate internal tissue in a totally unbelievable way. It ran into the uterus, it fried the skin inside her womb. She was mental, body bucking in a frantic reaction to the pain, quite unable to do anything at all to ease the agony or prevent more pain.

“Do her tits!” Sally purred, standing with her legs apart, lewdly rubbing her own swollen clitoris, her cunt hairs matted scarlet with blood she had drawn from fucking the other girl.

Bob did not need much encouragement. With a deliberate slowness, he brought a ladle full of spluttering oil over the big flawless breasts, holding it there until Clare calmed down enough to actually see it, only to shriek “No !”

at the top of her voice when she realized her tits were next.

Carefully, Bob lowered the copper ladle and let the hot metal briefly kiss each red nipple in turn. You could see the flesh actually flinch from the heat, the nipples flattening, seeming to suck themselves in. But then he tipped the ladle, and everyone watched a girls breasts leap and shake as if they were being electrocuted, so violently did Clares body shudder with the agony of scalding fat trickling down her glorious peaks.

It was too much for her. She gave one blood-curdling shriek, then quivered a few times and hung limp in her bonds, mercifully unconscious.

Everyone turned to look at Naomi. Her face was ashen, her eyes staring with horror and shock at the poor girl spread out in front of her.

“Oh, God….You’re insane!” she whimpered. “Why have you done that to her?”

“Fun!” Bob laughed. “There’s nothing better than having the ultimate power to destroy a pretty girl. It’s even better than the thrill we get fucking you poor sluts!”

Jason was pissing into the funnel in Clares cunt. It overflowed, urine and globules of fat pouring over her crotch and spreading out in a pool on the floor below her buttocks. He laughed, and kicked her between the legs. Piss sloshed from the funnel, and she groaned but stayed out cold.

His wife brought a container of cold water over, threw it on the girl to bring her round. No fun tormenting unconscious meat. One has to hear the screams and see the terror in the eyes……

“And now it’s your turn, Babe! Let’s see how you like a bit of hot steel!”

They started with remarkable restraint. Everyone except perhaps the driver was looking forward to seeing Naomi’s cunt react to red hot metal, but that would probably kill her too quickly, so they started with a selection of needles and long pins.

First they made Bert stick a six inch red hot needle through Naomi’s left nipple.

Holding the needle in pliers, the driver looked at the pert thrusting teenage breast and swallowed nervously. This was the crunch time. Rape was one thing, deliberately inflicting dreadful pain was something else.

It took only a few seconds in his head, but seemed longer as he weighed up his options.

It was unlikely that he could escape. Even if he did, he had actually raped Clare and arse-fucked her in a double penetration. No one outside this crazy room was likely to give him much credit for doing that, and to refuse meant he would most likely find out what it felt like to have red hot needles stuck in his own prick! He swallowed, drew a deep breath, and pushed the needle into Naomis’ tit flesh.

She screeched and shook her body so violently he let go the needle and it waved around, smoking and hissing in the aureole of the pointy little nipple.

“Grab her tit, man for fucks’ sake, and hold it while you stab her!” Jason laughed, and he and the rest of his murdering family watched in approval as Bert caught hold of Naomis nipple, pulled it taut away from her body, then gripped the hissing needle and drove it right through the aureole to suddenly erupt out the other side. Bert could smell the charred skin.

Marion passed him pliers with a thicker longer needle glowing red.

“Through from the top to the bottom, Bert!”

Jesus, didn’t she scream as he pushed it down into the upper slope, forced it further and further in, eventually seeing it pop out tight to her rib cage below her breast.

There was no blood. The red hot metal seared the wound.

“Now side to side with this big fucker!”

It was a steel pin, almost a quarter of an inch thick. It took a lot of pressing and screwing to break into the smoking burn where he pressed it to her breast, and he could hear it sizzling all the way into her, steam and smoke curling up from the small cone. Having to pinch her skewered nipple really hard to stop her escaping, he drove the metal right through her breast to emerge in her cleavage.

Now everyone joined in. The women knealt down and started working on Naomis feet. The red hot skewers driven under her toe nails hurt even more than those in her breasts.

Her cunt lips were tugged open, pulled forward like puppy dogs ears, then pierced repeatedly with red hot steel. Her clitoris was roasted, Bob holding a red hot soldering iron onto the little nub until he had turned it to a blackened charcoal lump.

Someone pressed big circular branding irons into her tits. Her belly button became a black hole.

The women, still low down, were driving increasingly big red hot items upwards into Naomis anal passage. A breast fell to the floor, the wound cauterized is a hissing eruption of smoke and steam.

Her legs were unchained and hauled upwards, ankles to wrists so she hung splay legged, the smoking ruin of her arcehole like a deep black tunnel. Sally used a red hot dildoe shaped implement, very slowly forcing it into the gurgling victims well displayed cunt. The sadists watched as the metal forced open the tight passage, roasting the soft tissue as it was driven deeper, meeting her os, burning through it, then pulled out to be re-heated for the final glorious push, spitting, steaming, hissing and flaming right into the dying bitches womb……

Now they went back to Clare. Using the oversize hypodermic, they injected her urethra with sizzling oil. They injected each beautiful nipple, watching the breasts swell amazingly and the nipples turn from a lovely pink to a deep brown as they were cooked from within.

They sliced off the nipples and ladled more fat onto the gushing blood, sealing the wounds.

The funnel was removed, but only so they could inject each cunt lip with oil.

Bill poured some down her screaming throat. It stopped the noise. Then one of the women rammed a huge funnel with a curved spout deep into Clares anal passage. Sizzling oil went in, slowly cooking the gurgling creatures guts.

She took a surprisingly long time to die. It was only after they untied her, hoisted her over the bubbling vat, and slowly lowered her body feet first into the vat that she actually became totally comatose, though it was still a thrill to watch her legs and belly go brown as they were fry boiled in the oil…….

.

Day Three.

.

Explosive Sex.

.

Sandra gagged as more sperm shot down her throat. Her mouth was held open by a sort of ring gag, allowing entry without the risk of her being able to bite. She couldn’t even scream as the thick white fluid filled her mouth with that breath catching odd taste of man come.

She had never swallowed come before, although she had sucked off a couple of boy friends. They had been given very strict instructions to pull out before they came on pain of instant dismissal, and as Sandra was a gorgeous blue eyed twenty one year old with a big bust and superb long legs, the boy friends had not dared to risk losing her for the sake of spunking in her mouth.

Jason, however, had no reason to pull out…the bitch was roped over a metal frame, arched backwards, head pulled down almost to the level of Jasons’ groin. On the other side of the arch formed by her lovely body, Terry was thrusting his hard prick deep into Sandra’s pussy.

He was on the short strokes, jerking his hips to ram hard into the bound girl, his hairy crotch thudding against the bone of her pube, the tip of his cock actually feeling the inner limit of her vagina as her arched position made it impossible for her to relax to take his length. He leaned hard into her, reached forward and grabbed her big firm tits. He dug his fingers into the globes, twisted brutally, and jerked them savagely as his load came spurting out into her depths. Grunting with pleasure, he stayed pressing hard against her crotch, feeling his own hot juices warm his slowly softening penis, savouring the feeling of total satisfaction and twisting and tugging her trapped breasts just to feel her pain squeeze his limp dick until he slipped out of her, followed by a bubbly grey flow of sperm oozing down her thighs.

Temporarily sated, the men stood back from their victim, strands of come drooling from the slit eyes of their shrivelled cocks like wet saliva.

“Man, that was good. She’s really tight, you know. You can feel her cunt ripple when you hurt her. Brilliant.”

“I’ll have her arce next. She didn’t like having it down her throat. Maybe I should have buggered her first, then it would have been shitty, too!”

“Lets turn her over…”

They untied her and rolled her onto her stomach over the frame. She did try to struggle, but Jason hit her in the belly twice and she was so winded it knocked all the fight out of her. In moments, she was helpless again, bottom sticking up to make a most tempting target.

“I’ve just got to hit that!” Jason growled, and he began to slap Sandra’s buttocks, first one cheek then the other, really slapping her hard. She yelped, coughing up some of the spunk from her throat, and tried to plead with them not to hurt her.

Terry slapped her face, then punched her hanging tits. That was nice. They seemed to swallow his hand in firm warm flesh. He hit with both hands, left hand to right breast and rights into the left one. He liked it so much, he hit her ever harder, smashing his fists into the reddening punch bags.

Jason was finding his hands had started to sting, so he grabbed a baseball bat and started thudding that down onto Sandra’s arce. The girl shrieked. This was seriously painful, the heavy bat really tenderising those lovely globes.

Blood vessels below the skin were rupturing, sudden dark discolorations marking the white curves, ridges and lines starting to swell remarkably fast.

The white was even turning quite blue in places, and the poor girl was shrieking for mercy, convinced that her backside was being pulped by the savage beating.

Seeing the lovely damage the bat was causing, Terry grabbed a lead weighted cosh and used that to smash the dangling breast meat. He hit her full power, the cosh vanishing into a deep crease in the selected breast, rupturing the flesh below the skin, both tits swelling amazingly fast, turning a purplish blue.

Violence turned both men into animals. Jason rammed the baseball bat up the girls pussy, the thick end bursting into her with dramatic results…..the entrance to her vagina tore, and blood poured from her cunt.

Terry smashed the cosh into her face, breaking her nose, then smashed her jaw.

Jason picked up a thick board and began to hit the end of the buried bat, the result being that her womb tore open and the bat suddenly went into her all the way. Blood gushed from the ruptured pussy. He wrenched the bat out of her, and replaced it with his hand, forcing up well past his wrist in the hot wet scarlet hole, his fingers deliberately formed to a point to ram into the ripped womb, then opened and dragged out again, clawing the walls of her uterus, tearing out morsels of bloody tissue.

Terry picked up the baseball bat and hit Sandra’s face hard, hearing bones crack. He giggled. Her lower jaw had almost been severed, hanging down, some of the teeth smashed off.

He drove the end of the bat into her eyes, pulping the left eye, knocking the right one out of its socket, which looked really gruesome, the eye dangling from a strip of white and red tissue.

It was so deliciously brutal that both men had hard-ons.

Terry forced his cock into the eyeless socket to skull fuck the whimpering creature. Jason raped her virgin arcehole, thrusting into the tight anal ring while feeling below his cock to shove his hand up the ruined cunt. He could almost toss himself off inside her….

Both men were in a sort of raging bloodlust, fucking the dying girl with total cruelty, soiling her corpse with their come.

“Oh, Christ….that was fucking marvellous! We were going to stretch her and so on, but she’s dead already. That was a bit wasteful, Terry. We should have kept her alive a lot longer than that!”

Jason pulled his hand out of the shattered vagina. He had been in almost up to his elbow. “Who cares. We’ve got plenty of the cunts to kill, so why not be a bit wasteful! It was worth it. I’ve never actually ripped a girls’ womb open by hand before. That was something special.”

………

Jackie Dawson and Tracy Dart were in a bedroom with Marion, Sally, and Bob. The sadists were fondling Tracy, examining her astonishing male appendage. It was a perfect cock, a bit small, and the scrotum was just a narrow sac at the root of the penis with two tiny bollocks just discernable in the smooth pouch.

Jackie was gagged, her arms tied to a hook in the ceiling. She was wearing frilly black nylon panties and a matching uplift bra that made her already full breasts look enormous.

Tracy was spread out on the bed, ankles and wrists loosely roped to the bedposts. She was stark naked, and it was her female manhood that was attracting all the attention. She was sobbing as the mother and daughter played with her little cock.

“Can you get a hard on, Tracy?” Sally asked, peeling the tight foreskin back from the pink dome of the knob.

Tracy did not answer, which was a mistake, because Sally grabbed the lady-boy cock and gave it a vicious jerk that made Tracy scream in pain.

“Don’t fuck with me, girl. If I ask a question, you answer or you feel pain. It doesn’t matter to me. I like hurting women, so I will be perfectly happy to screw this little fucker right off if you don’t behave. Now, can you get a hard on or not?”

The poor girl blushed. She nodded her head. “Sometimes….if….if there’s a girl I like!”

Sally was surprised. “You’re a dyke?”

The blush deepened. Even Tracy’s boobs seemed to become pink.

“I…..well….I can’t let a man see me there!”

“So can you fuck with it, get hard enough to shag another girl?” Sally asked, genuinely fascinated as she rolled the limp girly cock between her fingers.

“I might….I never have….it…well, I wouldn’t let anyone know!”

“You mean you’ve never let anyone see your cock, ever?”

Tears of embarrassment flowed down Tracy’s cheeks as she nodded.

“So, do you toss yourself off or what?”

Cheeks burning with shame, the tall beauty contestant nodded again. “Sometimes.”

Sally grinned. She ducked her head down over Tracy and closed her lips over the ladyboy penis. Her tongue rimmed the ridge of the glans, peeling back the foreskin. She brought one hand up to very gently stroke between Tracy’s legs, her forefinger lightly circling the puckered ring of the anus. She moved her head back and forth in a slow sexy rhythm. Her daughter got in on the act, bending down to start gently teasing Tracy’s nipples with her tongue, fondling the full breasts tenderly.

Seeing his wife and daughter making out with the cock girl had turned Bob on. He stood in front of Jackie and put one hand down the front of those sexy black panties, fingers curling to toy with the camels foot. She made quite a bit of noise despite the gag. Bob remembered she had a rather vulgar turn of phrase. No doubt she would be calling him some very crude names if she could articulate.

He eased the panties down and dropped to his knees so he could push his face into her groin and savour the aroma of fresh pussy. He began to lick her slot, and inserted a forefinger into her arsehole.

“Mmmmmfff” noises behind the gag.

He got his tongue between the labia, teasing into the eye of her vulva.

The aroma suddenly got stronger and slightly fishy. The bitch was getting turned on, he was sure of it. She was getting damp, the lips swelling and parting, inviting deeper exploration.

This was something new. Bob had never found a captured cunt that could actually react with desire to being ravished, despite all those porno stories where the raped woman suddenly starts shouting “Oh yes, fuck me deeper!” to the rapist.

He brought the other hand up, still keeping a finger in her anus, gently frotting the tight back passage, but now using his other hand on her pussy, squishing the lips sideways, spreading them and letting his tongue reach deeper into her pinkness.

“Oh….oh, please stop it!”

That was the other bitch on the bed. She didn’t scream or cry, just asked nicely in the sort of voice that meant ignore me and keep on sucking!

It was amazing. Two victims enjoying their initiation into perversion. Bob stood up, pressed the tip of his cock against Jackie’s pussy and rubbed it gently in the crack. The bitch pressed forward. She wanted him in her!

Not one to refuse hot cunt, Bob thrust his way up a very accommodating and well lubricated vagina.

He caressed her as he fucked her, and she squirmed in response, not fighting it but obviously betrayed by her body into wanting it. He kissed her gagged mouth, buried his face in her shoulder and kissed her neck. The noises behind the gag were more like encouragement, now. He was pulling her buttocks, forcing his member as deep as it would go, and she was arching forward to help him reach the depths of her vaginal cavity…..

Behind him, Tracy was arching, too. Her lady cock was engorged, and she had lost the battle to remain unmoved. Now she pushed her hips upwards into Sally’s face, moaning as feelings she had never known before turned that damned lump of unwanted flesh into a burning cauldron of fierce need and shooting pleasure.

Sally and Marion knew what was happening, of course. They had awakened the subjugated lust Tracy had fought to repress for years, and the girl’s nipples were hard and erect, her little cock pulsing, her scrotum suddenly tight and feeling full and in need of relief…..

The ejaculation was actually meagre, but the feelings that went with it were intense.

Tracy gave a loud cry of release, her whole body arching up from the bed and shuddering with absolute bliss as she ejected her morsel of come into Sally’s sucking mouth.

Against the wall, Bob could tell that Jackie was coming. She groaned and shook, her legs trembling as her orgasm shot those tremors of delight down every tissue. He speeded up, pumping into her to bring himself off while she was still in the throes of coming so she could feel his spunk flood her belly.

And then everyone slowly calmed down.

Bob took the gag from Jackie’s face. He kissed her on the lips and she did not try to turn away.

“You sexy little devil….you enjoyed that!” he growled in her ear.

She shook her head, stayed silent.

“You know we captured all you girls to do some pretty disgusting things to you, don’t you?” he whispered. “We’ve already killed two or three girls. How come you could get turned on?”

He stared into her eyes and saw guilt. She was ashamed of something.

“Come on, tell me. How come you let yourself want sex so easily?”

She blushed. “It was seeing her tied down!” she grunted. “I…..well, I’ve always had this secret thing about…..about force!”

“You mean the idea of rape turned you on?” Bob smiled.

“No…not exactly…it’s…..well, I …..oh, I read books….not very nice stuff. The Marquis de Sade, Justine and Juliette, that sort of thing….and it makes me randy!”

She might as well have slapped Bob across the face, the shock was so intense. He gazes at her, open mouthed.

On the bed, his wife and daughter were still toying with Tracy’s very exhausted body, licking and kissing her, stroking her body and taking turns to fondle and kiss her now limp girl-dick.

“So seeing her tied down you thought how she could be hurt and that got your juices flowing?” Bob murmured. He was cuddled in against her, like a lover, the two of them whispering to each other.

“Yes….she was so….helpless. And spread out. I ….I could think of lots of things to do to her…..”

“Like what, Jackie? Come on, don’t be shy for God’s sake. We’re more perverted than you could ever be. I don’t think you can shock me!”

“Well, whip her of course, then…..well, her breasts. Cut her nipples off and burn them.”

Bob kissed her. “Darling, you’ve just saved your life. Do you know what we were going to do to you? It wouldn’t be just your nipples cut off. We were going to cut you into little pieces and love every scream until you died!”

.

An hour later, sipping freshly ground coffee in the comfort of the farmhouse lounge, Jackie was listening to the family story in a sort of excited but shocked state. Bert had been locked up. The information being released was not for him to hear.

They were not holding anything back, letting her know of the killings they had enjoyed and filling in some gruesome details about how they had tortured their victims. Either she was going to join them and make her own phantasies become a reality, or chicken out in which case they would kill her. There was no point in hiding the truth from her.

Jason was getting right up to date.

“I was fucking her up the arse and got my hand real deep in her cunt, ripping bits out of her while she died. Really satisfying to shove my arm all the way into her ruptured womb like that!”

“Your turn!” Terry said. He was sitting beside her. He had showered all the blood off, of course, and was wearing a short sleeved shirt and chinos. She had been given a short skirt and a thin white jumper that outlined her breasts so faithfully they could see her nipples were erect.

“Well, I was very young when I started to get these feelings. Sort of butterfly in the tummy when I saw or read about nasty things happening to girls.

I’d see a film where the baddies tied a woman up….nothing ever happened much on screen, of course, but I would lie in bed at night and think how she could have been tortured. They could have used lighted cigarettes on her breasts or forced something really big up inside her. And I would get all lovely and moist and play with myself until I had an orgasm.

That was when I started looking for books about that sort of thing. De Sade got me off so many times. Little bits in the stories. Three pregnant women all butchered. A father having to cut off his wife’s breasts to save his daughter, then watching them kill his daughter anyway….little girls raped again and again, then impaled on poles. Oh, all sorts of things, really.

And then I found stuff on the internet. Really detailed perverted stories about torture and rape. Oh, I could go to bed after an hour on the net charged up and ready to come the minute I touched my pussy!”

“And how about this beauty queen stuff, then? Is that part of your phantasy?”

“You know, it honestly isn’t. I’ve never really thought about those secret feelings and real people. I’ve never sort of looked at one of my competitors and thought of her being whipped or anything. It’s…..well, it just wasn’t part of the real world until I got here and saw a girl all tied down for real….well, a girl….a bloke with tits, or whatever.”

“So would you like to whip a girl, for real?” Terry smiled. Despite his recent session, there was a bulge in his chinos as he thought about Jackie wielding a whip.

She coloured up. “I…..I don’t know whether I could. I mean, all this was just in my head, you know. No one got hurt.”

“Darling, the rest of your friends we have caught are definitely going to get hurt. Whether you join in or not, they die. So you have a choice to make. You join the family as my wife, or you leave…..in bits!”

“Christ, that’s the weirdest proposal I’ve ever heard!” Marion giggled. “Would you really marry her, Terry?”

“A beauty queen who reads De Sade and gets turned on thinking about a girl having her tits cut off? Too bloody true I’ll marry her!….Jackie, I’m serious. I’m 28, well off, as perverted as a man can be, and I’ll look after you and give you children. I’ll share you with these other dirty sods, of course, but that means you will have two more cocks and a couple of hot pussies to make your sex life very exciting, not to mention being a practising sadist, too! There, I’m proposing marriage, the full works, together ever afterwards, all that stuff. Will you say yes even though you don’t know me from Adam?”

There was a long silence, everyone looking at Jackie with expectant expressions. She gave a nervous laugh, looked at the gathering of self confessed murderers, and felt a tingle down her spine that flowered into an absolute burn deep in her loins.

“Yes!” she said, and knew she was right when Terry kissed her and she could feel her toes curl with excitement.

.

END OF PART TWO.

.

The family will dispose of the rest of their stock in Part Three.

“Jackie Joins the Clan.”

Your comments and suggestions are always welcome.

Susan.

Model Bus Three.

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Jackie Joins The Clan.

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Part One.

Introductions.

.

.

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.

.

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.

.

“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!”

.

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.

.

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.

.

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.

.

“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!”

.

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!”

.

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.

.

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.

.

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.

.

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.

.

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.

.

Part Four.

.

Hot Stuff.

.

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.

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Part Six.

Acid Trip.

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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.