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This is a continuation of a long story begun over in the Gang Rape section. Contains rape, scat, torture and snuff.
*
PART TWENTY-TWO
GROUP THERAPY
Mollie blinked awake. She had cried herself to sleep, too tired from her awful ordeal to stay awake despite her terror. Now she realized all over again that she was buried alive and began to scream uncontrollably.
Nobody came.
She was buried beneath six feet of earth in a perspex coffin full of fire ants. She was naked save for a pathetic sexy school girl outfit, her pussy and asshole were clamped open. Ants were crawling all over her and inside her. Biting.
She screamed until her throat was raw, then hyperventilated for perhaps an hour.
Slowly, light filtered in. Dim dawn light coming through the air tube that connected her face mask to the surface.
At last, when the light was a little stronger, a shape blocked some of it out.
"Hello, cunt. Thought you might be lonely. Brought some company for you." She recognized the voice as Basil's.
Something pattered onto her face. Then began to move about. Similar things, light and scampering, dropped down the two other holes and scattered over her pert titties and crotch. She began hyperventilating again.
"Oh, it must be dark in there. Let me do something about that." There was a click, and little lights came on around the coffin. Mollie could see her reflection in the shiny lid, and she could raise her head a couple of inches and look down her body. Spiders. Large spiders were crawling all over her. She felt the tickle of their legs inside her pussy, crawling up her asshole. They started to bite.
Mollie hated spiders.
She screamed again but by now she had no voice left and the spiders got in her mouth and she choked and when it had reached a climax of horror, the lights went out and it went on like that for nine hours.
*
Basil looked casually in at the cunts in the Group Therapy Room. They were leaning against each other like a bunch of bananas. Legs bound together, heads through nooses, propping one another up so they wouldn't strangle. Standing with their knees locked, it looked as if the Slit and Parminder had even fallen asleep. Angela and Bella eyed him warily, though.
He clapped his hands, as loud as possible, and yelled, "WAKEY-WAKEY, CUNTS!"
Parminder and the Slit awoke with starts, the sweaty, unclean bodies of the girls shifted, and suddenly they were all leaning at thirty degree angles, strangling against the cords knotted round their throats. Basil laughed in merriment and sauntered over to rescue them, removing the nooses from each in turn and let them fall painfully to the floor, gasping like spent fish.
*
Ray was the next to awaken, in bed with Carrie. She was tied to the bed, naked except for a few shreds of clothing that no longer covered much of anything. He had awoken and raped her several times during the night, but she'd been allowed to sleep a bit, her reward for winning her whip-fight with Bella. She'd taken so many whip-blows to her pink pussy that sex was extremely painful for her, even though Ray did nothing in particular to torment her, apart from fucking her and telling her what a stupid, worthless whore she was, in his silky, seductive, rich man's voice. One the whole, the night was the best time Carrie had spent in PORCC since the Rape-Off began. Apart from being tied up and raped four times, and being sore all over especially down there, you could say she'd spent a pleasant night. Now she needed very badly to pee.
Ray took his time dressing, then he untied Chloe and Becky, who were bound in a 69 pose, faces in each others' pussies.
The ablutions were performed much as the previous day, with everyone "going" in the bathtub and Carrie licking everyone clean. Carrie had to wait until everyone else had pissed and shat, then she got to go, and didn't hesitate at all this time, she was so desperate.
Dinner was the same: mush for everyone, except Carrie, who got a plate full of shit again. This time she was told it was Chloe's. She forced it down, trying not to be sick. Basil came in with a test tube full of cum, bought in from a lab, he said, and garnished the shit with it. "For protein," he explained, and then asked, "Is it tasty?"
Carrie knew this was a trap and she'd be beaten if she complained. "Yes, it's delicious," she said, in her smallest little-girl voice.
Parminder and Bella giggled.
"Then why don't you say, 'My compliments to the shitter,'?" asked Basil.
The Slit giggled. Everyone was startled. Dr. Petersen had been curious to see whether the Slit's broken brain could hold a post-hypnotic command, so he'd told the Slit to giggle whenever Carrie was humiliated. It worked!
"My compliments to the shitter," said Carrie.
"You're welcome," blushed Chloe. Then she giggled. And she hadn't even been hypnotised. That set Becky off too.
Carrie sat in misery, munching her shit breakfast of shit.
The girls were all sitting with dildos in cunt and ass (Angela got the electro-shock ones again, to her chagrin). After the meal, Carrie got the job of licking every single dildo clean while everyone except Angela laughed at her some more.
Then Ray, accompanied by Alicia, proposed a group therapy session. For the men. The women were to kneel and suck their cocks while they discussed their formative experiences as rapists.
With Mollie continuing her lonely subterranean vigil, that left seven girls for seven rapists, on their knees orally pleasuring them. Each man had a whip, or cane, or prod, or set of pliers to keep the girls tractable. Angela was given a ring gag since she was still considered to have a dangerous amount of spirit.
Carrie had always been an oral submissive: stick something in her mouth, and the slut would suck it. A kind of primitive animal instinct. She did her sluttish best on Christian Ray's cock as he reminisced:
"My first victim was a housemaid. I was young... only a teen. She was pretty. Naturally, I wanted to have her, so I took her. I don't think it occurred to me that I could charm her, or pay her, though my monthly allowance was many times her salary. So I just threw her on the bed and raped her. Nothing particularly brutal, just a few slaps to put her in her place, nothing inventive at all, I'm ashamed to say. But humiliating her was extremely exciting. As much as the sex.
"Then there was a discussion with my father. The little slut - not much older than me - reported it. The old man was extremely understanding - boys will be boys, and all that. He told the slut that she'd be paid extra, but now obeying my sexual requirements was part of her job. Well, I swear, I got more aroused by watching her expression as he made her into a whore than I had when I was raping her. She couldn't afford to lose this job, you see, so she had to just do as she was told. Then the old man made her bend over and he fucked her from behind while I fed my cock into her mouth. She was crying. Fantastic. We fairly coated her in cum.
"Well, of course I made regular use of her from then on, daily. But the excitement of the initial humiliations faded as she got used to being a whore. That's what got me exercising my imagination. I had to find new ways to make her life unendurable, and I flatter myself I did!"
Alicia leaned forward, exposing a surprising depth of cleavage, and asked, "What did you make the little bitch do for you, Christian?"
Ray shoved his cock to the back of Carrie's throat, his hand on her head, controlling her. "I made her lick up piss and cum, as part of her maid's duties, you understand. Working nude save for an apron. Eventually I gradiated to shit, which was gratifying for the extreme distress it produced as Constanze sucked it up, but it did get a bit smelly. I took to dripping hot wax on her most sensitive parts, thrashing her regularly, making her masturbate for my friends and suck them all off.
"Then I convinced the old man we needed a second maid. Well, on day one I had raped her, and by day two I was making Constanze and Marta perform together. Oh, they HATED that!" Ray chuckled at the memory, and dick-slapped Carrie a few times.
"But then I realized that variety was the spice of rape, and I got father to fire both cunts so I could have new ones. On a monthly basis. The agencies were coining it in, quite happy to send endless virgins to our house to be deflowered and degraded. They would also supply the sluts' addresses, which was important. You see, after a month of exploring the limits of sexual abuse with me, they would be dismissed. They would go back to their old lives. They would recover from the shame of having been made whores, and think of themselves as reformed. Then, six months or a year later, me and six or so friends would pay them a visit... rape and beat them without mercy in their own homes. Nervous breakdowns galore. One cunt even died from being throat fucked a bit too hard..."
Ray stroked Carrie's cheek tenderly as he said this.
"I'm afraid we stuck hooks through her tits and hung her up for her mummy to find. With CUM-BUCKET written across her forehead."
Alicia gasped. "Fan-fucking-tastic." She wondered if it were true. She found the sheer evil of it intensely erotic. She HOPED it was true...
Ray was fucking Carrie's face hard now, in long, savage strokes. Her eyes bulged as he choked her.
"But most of them were destroyed only in the sense of drifting into drugs, prostitution, or being committed to mental hospitals. I still keep track of them. Whenever one is on the verge of getting her life in order, I arrange for her to get a little push. Sometimes I'll pay Constanze or Marta or one of the other bitches a visit, let her know exactly why her life has turned to shit..."
Ray pulled out and spewed streamers of cum all over Carrie's face. She knew enough to slurp at his cock afterwards, swirling her tongue to lick him clean, while leaving the muck on her face as a testament to her shame. Quite right.
"Carrie, I'm finished with you now. Crawl over and help Angela with George, she seems to be struggling."
Carrie was terrified of George. His rape of her was the most violent she ever experienced. The memory of him jamming a pair of scissors up her asshole made her wince. But as he was being fellated by Angela he was probably safe just now, and if she made him happy... she hurried over, ass wiggling, and began to lick his balls, and also the considerable length of shaft the ring-gagged Angela was unable to get down her throat. The little redhead was turning crimson as he gripped her throat and raped it at the same time, massaging her neck around his cock as if it were a foreskin.
"What about you, George, you must have killed a few cunts?" asked Alicia, raising one leg over the arm of her chair so she could masturbate openly.
"Hurr. Yes, George kill cunts good. Once, broke cunt's neck. No, twice. But one cunt lived, in wheelchair. George still sees her sometimes. Hurr hurr. One cunt he cut a little, but cut too deep. Cut a main pipe. Much blood! Hurr hurr."
"Couldn't you staunch the bleeding?" asked Dr. Sade, curious.
"Was too busy raping her! Hurr hurr hurr."
"So she actually bled out on the end of your dick? Marvelous," said Ray.
"George's dick was the last thing she was conscious of," said Dr. Sade, with a wry smile.
"That is so fucking hot," said Alicia, frigging herself. She'd never really considered the erotic potential of butchery.
George smiled at the thought of the occasional return visits he paid his chairbound victim. She couldn't exactly feel it, but her terror and shame made it worth while.
"And who was your first, George?" asked Ray.
"George was at school. George was already big. Got to class early. Sent other boys away. Knocked down and tied up each girlie as she came in. Then same with teacher. Teacher was pretty."
"You did all of this because you wanted to rape teacher?" asked Basil.
"George raped them all! Twelve girlies, one teacher. All day. George was tired and sore when police came. But not as sore as girlies! Not as tired as teacher! Hurr hurr."
"You are truly a prodigious rapist," said Basil, balls-deep in Bella's busy mouth. "For myself, it was when I went into business that I first saw the possibilities of exploiting the female workforce for all they were worth. Economic power is there to be abused, and so are the little sluts at my courier company. They're so dumb, you can make them do just about anything."
Bella, who had worked for Basil, bobbed her head up and down on his cock as if nodding in agreement, but her ears were burning. So were her cunt and asshole, which had had a jalapeno pepper stuffed inside all night long...
"I've had several deliveries from Basil's company, and I can vouch for the quality of his staff," said Austin Creasy, as the Slit tongued his thick member.
"What's your story, Austin?" asked Alicia, two fingers in her seething twat.
"Well, it's rather a sad one," shrugged the little man. "I was never what you'd call good looking. I never believed any woman would want me. So, when all the other young fellows were getting girlfriends, I was lurking outside nightclubs with my bottle of chloroform and my rape kit. I had the use of a lock-up belonging to my dad, where I used to take the girls to torture them. I always wanted to punish them for my own shortcomings," he said, mournfully, and jammed his shaft down the Slit's throat, gagging it.
"Well, I think that's very honest of you," said Alicia.
"I was always aiming to prove myself superior to the dumb sluts I destroyed," said Creasy. "And, after decades refining my technique, I think I have proved it. And yet, I still continue. It's a kind of addiction, I think. I'm always looking for ways to more comprehensivly destroy a cunt's life. I must say, I've never killed one. I always liked them to live on with the memory."
His semen exploded in the Slit's mouth and it choked. Withdrawing, he splurged all over its gasping face.
"I myself," said Dr. Sade, all too eager to be admired, "discovered that my position as a doctor was open to all kinds of abuse. And such is the respect in which a surgeon is held, so important and valuable is he, that nothing is ever done. I've lost count of the number of patients I raped on the operating table, even as I healed their wounds. In full view of countless medical staff, who merely smiled and winked. When I started actively torturing female patients, again, I was indulged. And once I acquired my own clinic, there was no one to stop me. Specialising in rape cases means that my patients are usually too traumatized already to offer any effective resistance. And when I want a virgin, I simply requisition a student nurse or two from the medical school. Nice Catholic girls are best."
Throughout this monologue, Becky was busy on his erection. At least, she thought, this wasn't doing further damage to her downstairs parts.
"Oh, so you rape your own staff, too?" asked Dr. Petersen, who was making use of Chloe's mouth.
"Of course, if they're good looking. The doctor who's filling in for me right now is supposed to be quite attractive. I'm keen to, ah, meet her when we've concluded our important work at PORCC."
"I suppose you must have had a few fatalities?" asked Alicia, eagerly.
"Quite a few," shrugged Sade. "Sometimes, the life-saving surgery has to be delayed while I rape a slut properly, and she might expire under my care. But a girl retains quite a bit of vaginal warmth for some time after death, so it's no real inconvenience."
"I must admit," I've never actually brought about a death in any of the bitches I hypnotized," mused Dr. Petersen. "Several have been hospitalized, including that whore Carrie, and one lingered in a coma for a few months, but eventually made a partial recovery. I had hypnotized her into entering the gorilla enclosure at the zoo during mating season..."
A moment later, both Cumguzzler and Spunkholes lived up to their names.
"My interest in tattooing," said Turk Minster, "went hand in hand with my interest in female flesh, and pain. Long before I picked up my first needle, I was a date rape specialist. Lots of girls wanted to go out with me because I'm big and strong. Sorry, Austin," he grinned. Austin shrugged, dreamily wiping spunk over the Slit's face. Parminder was at work on Turk. She wasn't very good at oral sex, being quite inexperienced at it (her brutal husband had preferred to use her asshole over every other avenue of pleasure). Besides, the steel studs built into Turk's cock made it a difficult one to swallow.
"Word got around that I tended to be a bit rough with the girls, but curiously enough that didn't stop them wanting me. It became a game, to see how far I could go. Finally, my reputation was such, and the injuries done were so great, that my popularity was affected a little, but by then I'd figured out how to abduct the cunts I couldn't seduce. And my success made me popular with guys, who always wanted to help, in hopes of getting a piece of the action. Some of these guys are now on the police force, or in political office, so I'm free to continue as I like."
Frustrated with Parminder's ineptitude, he picked her up and planted her on his cock, filling her taut asshole with his spiky member. Screams, sobbing, the usual.
As Chloe licked the last of Dr. Petersen's sperm from his bell-end, he recited his story: "I decided to concentrate my attentions on the female mind, her weakest spot. I found I could effortlessly dominate any woman's will, which of course opened up all sorts of possibilities. There are sluts in this room who have been twisted round my little finger, as it were, and don't even know it. Carrie, for instance, dresses in a provocative way, greatly increasing the number of times she gets raped, purely because I told her to."
Carrie looked up from George's balls in surprise, just as George exploded in Angela's face like a Vesuvius of yoghurt.
"Girls, lick one another clean," instructed Ray, and all the bimbos with cum on them began to lick all the other bimbos with cum on them. The sisters had dribbled cum and drool onto their tits, so they licked one another's cleavage. Carrie set to work on the huge mess pasted in Angela's face, while Angela tried to lick Carrie through her ring gag but mostly smeared cum on the blonde from herself. Bella and the Slit lapped goo from one another's faces and sucked it from their hair.
Parminder was still being ass-raped and did not take part.
"When I first studied hypnosis, I learned that younger women are particularly susceptible. I started on my teenage sister. I put her under. As a harmless test, I had her take off her shoes. Then I had to go further. When she was nude, it seemed worth the risk to demand that she hurt herself. I made her pinch her nipples until they were bruised. Then, of course, I had to take her. She became my sexual plaything, constantly at my service. Our parents wondered why her grades declined: she was spending every spare moment servicing me. She gave me all her allowance, sold her favourite things to have more money to give me. I used her holes mercilessly, tortured her with pliers and lit cigarettes, made her drink and eat my waste products...
"You might think it couldn't last. One day, my father caught us: Zara was licking my anus while I spanked her pussy with a ruler. Father was confused, perhaps angry, at first, but when he saw the possibilities... I gave him Zara and went in search of a harem of my own..."
Turk finished in Parminder's ass, then, and Alicia pronounced the session a success:
"You are all stunning examples of the rapist type. I see no evidence of neurosis of dysfunction. You know what you want and you take it."
While Carrie was forced to suck the cum from Parminder's asshole, t was decided that Spunkholes could do some painting, with Cumguzzler assisting her: they could paint the filthy bathroom. A mural showing the girls shitting in the bath, and Carrie licking assholes clean. Of course, the gentlemen knew that the combined fumes of paint and shit in that unventilated room might cause the sisters to pass out, but they didn't see any reason to take precautions regarding this.
"Time for your beating, Parminder," said Ray. He, Petersen and Sade tool Parminder into her room. Ray had his brass knuckles, Sade had a pair of sap gloves (reinforced and weighted with steel shot) and Petersen had a baseball bat.
Parminder had been thinking, ever since her previous days' beating, how she could stave off the worst of the brutality. She knew she was expected to degrade herself. She hoped she could do it inventively and passionately enough that she only got the first beating, not the second.
The first beating was bad enough. While Ray and Sade moved in close and punched her, Petersen would poke with the bat from a distance, or else swing it with deadly force at Parminder's body or limbs. Ray grabbed the weeping girl by the arms from behind, pinning them behind her, and Sade slugged her in the guts, WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! Then her tits! WHUPWHUPWHUPWHUPPITY! rapid-fire, making the beautiful brown cones bounce and ripple. The CRACK in the face!
Ray spun the slut around, Sade grabbed her, and he gave it to her all over again with the knuckleduster. Parminder's face was bloody by now, her body, bruised from before, would now have bruises on top of bruises.
Finally, they pushed her away and let Petersen fell her with a really colossal blow to the cunt, swinging the bat into her lower abdomen, then swinging sideways to hit her in the ribs.
They hauled her off the floor and held her, hands crushing her sore tits and aching cunt.
The blows to her face hadn't ruined her beauty. Her lips, swollen, were even more sensual, and the red blood flowing from her nose and mouth made a sensually exciting contrast with her caramel skin.
"Talk to us," said Ray.
"This cunt exists to serve you. You can do anything to this cunt because she is a worthless fuckpig," began Parminder, trying to put tenderness and seduction into the disgusting words, even as she wept from the vicious beating. "This cunt will take your spit in her face, your cum on her tits, your piss in her asshole, your shit in her worthless pussy. This cunt has only one purpose: to be abused for your pleasure. Beat me till I bleed. Rape me till I bleed. Show me no mercy."
The men smiled. "Very good," said Ray. "You're improving. But you'll have to do even better tomorrow. For now, your second beating is deferred, and we only have to burn you once."
Petersen lit a cigarette. Parminder had one burned palm, now she got another one. She had almost forgotten how painful the first had been.
Triple penetration followed.
*
Mollie had, perhaps, lost her mind a little. She was brought back to reality by a voice from above, filtering down her air tube.
"Hello, my little troglodyte. I was worried you might be dehydrating in there." Basil.
"Please, please God, let me out, I can't stand any more of this! I'm begging you!"
"Tut tut, slut. You've only been down there five minutes. It'll be five DAYS before we even consider letting you out!"
Mollie's mind reeled. That couldn't be right? Five minutes? But the sun had come up ages ago. She knew she had been here for a whole night and probably most of a day. Hadn't she? Could she trust anything she perceived? Could she trust her mind?
"How are you getting on with the spiders? Good company for you?"
Mollie had eaten the spiders that had been in her face mask. It had seemed the best solution, though a disgusting one. It had been the only meal she'd had in 24 hours. There were still spiders and fire ants crawling about her naked body and up her open vagina and anus, tickling and biting...
There was a trickling sound. Basil was pissing down her air tube!
Mollie's oxygen mask, securely strapped to her head, filled up with piss. She gulped at it, to keep from drowning. But there was always more. Basil had drank a litre of water and given it time before coming out here. He wanted to make sure Mollie got a good drink.
Mollie, drowning in piss, gulped and gulped. Eventually she finished, and realized she was alive for an uncertain amount of time.
"Hello! Hello? Help me!"
But Basil had gone, and there was no one else.
Mollie hadn't let her bowels and bladder go since she'd been put in the hole. Now she finally did.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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PART TWENTY-THREE
ART THERAPY
(Contains scat, violence, rape and terror.)
Ray opened the bathroom door and smiled. Spunkholes and Cumguzzler were passed out on the cold tiled floor, their mostly-naked bodies smeared in paint. The fumes from the paint in the unventilated, confined space had mixed with the smell of waste matter to cause unconsciousness. Possibly brain damage? Well, how could you tell with these bimbos?
He dragged them outside by the ankles, leaving them in a heap of mouthwatering flesh, and glanced at Spunkholes' mural. She had painted two girls, one of them crying, being forced to urinate and defecate in the bathtub, and showed Carrie being forced to lick Parminder clean. Carrie's humiliation was plainly visible in her face, as were the brown smears detaching from the anal cleft and adhering to the little pink tongue. In its naive way, it was really quite good.
*
Becky awoke, groggily, and found she couldn't move. Uh-oh. She was tied to her bed. Her sister was a short distance away, bound to a chair.
"Spunkholes!" Becky called, softly, trying to wake Becky without attracting anyone else. Becky's name sounded strange when she said it, but she couldn't figure out why... "Spunkholes!"
Turk loomed into view. "Shall I wake her?" he grinned. And he gave Chloe a terrific slap. As her head recoiled back into position, she stirred, woozy. "Whuh?"
"Your sister wants you, Spunkholes. She doesn't want you to miss her labelling." And he raised his tattoo gun.
Becky became aware that the last piece of her ruined costume, the strip that had encircled her midriff, with CUMGUZZLER sewn into it, had been cut off. She felt naked without it, even though it had left her tits, ass and pussy completely exposed. It was now pinned to her bedroom wall like a pennant.
"For reference," said Turk, and lowered the massive tattoo gun towards Becky's abdomen...
The pain was intense, though not really comparable to some of the beatings Becky had endured recently. What made it worse was that whenever Turk paused in his work, he would tweak her nipples or flick her clit. Not only were these rosy pain-points tender after Dr. Sade's little operations on them - a line of sutures outlined each nipple, and her clitoral hood was pinned back with stitches ensuring her clit itself was permanently exposed - they were hypersensitive as a result of Sade's work on her nerve endings.
When Turk was finished, and the word CUMGUZZLER was written in huge, ornate but horribly legible lettering across Becky's abdomen, and in smaller, simpler lettering on her right cheek, Dr. Sade dropped in and gave her a quick inspection.
"The toes show signs of healing, so maybe she won't be lame. Nice work with the tattoos. I take it the braille effect of the scarification you've added is to prevent her being able to erase your fine work altogether via laser removal. The letters will still be visible. Now, as to her holes... the damage seems pretty near irreperable. Perhaps with complete rest, they might recover. Her ability to orgasm clitorally is still intact, despite the terrible lashing she took from Spunkholes over there. But the scarring of the G-spot is considerable. The colostomy has made allowed her anus to heal, but the recent sodomy is doing aboslutely terrific damage."
"Makes me want to rape and bugger her right now," chuckled Turk, "But I've got the other cunt to do first..."
So Becky was removed from the bed, put in leg-spreaders and had her wrists bound to a ceiling hook, forcing her to stand on tiptoe (and her big toes really hurt!) while Chloe was tied to the bed, her FUX TV slut costume cut from her body, and Turk sketched in what he was going to write, using Chloe's own paints.
SPUNKHOLES, of course, across her abdomen and on her left cheek.
Before leaving, Dr. Sade made one more adjustment to Becky's torment. He taped a small magnet to each of her ankles. Then he clamped her clit with a small steel clip, not too tight, but with nasty little serrated teeth on it. Hanging from a long thread from this clamp was another magnet. When Sade released it, it began swinging wildly about between her legs.
"The magnets repel one another. This one will stay in constant motion, unable to settle, rendered unstable by the slightest movement from Cumguzzler's legs or torso. It will keep yanking her clit this way and that, an unending, mild but distinctly uncomfortable stimulation."
"It's terrific," pronounced Turk, gazing at the arc of the magnet. "Petersen could use that to hypnotize the rest of the cunts, I bet." And he laughed.
Sade left to examine the other bimbos, and Turk got to work on Chloe. The tattooing went swiftly, as it was similar in style to what he'd inflicted on Becky, and soon Chloe had been clearly labelled with her new name. Does it even make sense to call her Chloe, now that her true title is etched in her skin for all to see, and even her own sister uses it? But Chloe still thought she was Chloe, and Becky thought she was Becky. Silly girls! Dr. Petersen would cure them of these delusions.
Her tattoos a raw, scabbed mass, Chloe/Spunkholes was allowed to resume work painting, depicting Angela and the Slit's whip fight in the Group Therapy Room, alongside Carrie and Bella's follow-up battle. Becky/Cumguzzler was left tied for a bit longer, since her plight was so amusing. Several of the gentlemen callers dropped in just to watch her suffer.
While Spunkholes was painting, all four of the girls serving as her subjects were being sweatily raped on the floor beside her, so she could look over and get a good likeness, and even see where the whip marks were. Angela and the Slit's wounds had faded a bit but had by no means totally healed, while Carrie and Bella's stripes were still raw. Spunkholes winced to look at them, and tried to capture their distressing nature in her art, but somehow her images looked more sexy and funny than pitiable. She wished she had more skill. She wished a lot of things.
Creasy had a good idea after raping the Slit, and made it pose balanced on its shoulders, leaning upside down against the wall, so that Spunkholes could use it as a brush-holder. He even advised that the Slit's wet, cum-filled cunt would be good for cleaning brushes in, so Spunkholes tried this. It wasn't as good as a glass of water would be. The Slit mostly wept, and Spunkholes wasn't certain that being used to clean brushes upset it in any special way, but it clearly didn't cheer it up.
*
Basil paid Mollie, who was still buried alive for the second day in a row, a little visit, and urinated down her air tube again. He listened to the pleasing sound of gurgling and spluttering, and when he was satisfied that the teenager had drunk his piss and avoided drowning, he spoke to her:
"Hell, Mollie, my sweet little cunny. Didn't want you getting bored down there. Just happened to remember that there's a music option in your little suite. I have the remote control here."
He pressed a button, and Mollie's perspex coffin, six feet under, filled with the strains of Terry Jacks' "Seasons in the Sun," at deafening volume.
It was on a loop: Basil let it play uninterrupted for twelve hours.
Goodbye to you, my trusted friend
We've known each other since we're nine or ten
Together we've climbed hills or trees
Learned of love and ABCs
Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees
Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die
When all the birds are singing in the sky
Now that the Spring is in the air
Pretty girls are everywhere
Think of me and I'll be there
We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun
But the hills that we climbed
Were just seasons out of time
Goodbye Papa, please pray for me
I was the black sheep of the family
You tried to teach me right from wrong
Too much wine and too much song
Wonder how I got along
Goodbye Papa, it's hard to die
When all the birds are singing in the sky
Now that the Spring is in the air
Little children everywhere
When you see them I'll be there
We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song
Like the seasons, have all gone. x 2
Goodbye Michelle, my little one
You gave me love and helped me find the sun
Every time that I was down
You would always come around
And get my feet back on the ground
Goodbye Michelle, it's hard to die
When all the birds are singing in the sky
Now that the Spring is in the air
With the flowers everywhere
I wish that we could both be there
We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun
But the stars we could reach
Were just starfish on the beach. x 2
We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song
Like the seasons, have all gone
All our lives, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun
But the hills that we climbed
Were just seasons out of time
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Hmmmm. Is this an ominous portent of future occurrences - or lack thereof - in Mollie’s near future? The crystal ball is cloudy, in that respect, I can see..... nothing! (Gasp!) Does this.... does this mean....? ;)
Tars ;)
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Skuttrusk likes us to stay in continuous curiosity…
I was longing for a new episode about Becky and Chloe as Becky's scourging was the best part of the story up to now.
But unfortunately there was no real punishment.
So I had to pull my panties up again…
Dear Master Skuttrusk, please don't make us wait too long ! :emot_thedrool.gif:
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Becky and Chloe are going to be punished...hard. But the other cunts need to suffer too. As for Mollie, she should be fine for a while so long as Basil keeps thoughtfully supplying her with "drinking water."
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Bit of a change of pace. Contains scat, violence, mild implied ageplay.
PART TWENTY-FOUR
CHANNEL HOPPING
INT. BEDROOM - DAY
ANNIE ANGSTROM (AKA THE CRIMSON PUDENDA) lies face down on her bed, crying. She wears the top half of a pair of pajamas and we can see a little of her ass.
VOICE OVER: In last week's exciting episode, Annie Angstrom lost her magic Crimson Pudenda costume, which enabled her to fihgt crime, when she fell into the clutching tentacles of Dr. Cocktopus. Now, her career as a superpowered vigilante seems over!
Suddenly, a bright light blazes into dingy Annie's little bedroom. Annie rolls over and sits up in susprise.
ANNIE: [gasps] Who are YOU?
In the doorway, almost silhouetted by a blazing light, is an OLD WIZARD.
OLD WIZARD: I am the Great Wang, Guardian of the Crimson Pudenda! You thought your powers were lost to you forever, but I bring you -
He holds out a tiny scrap of red fabric -
OLD WIZARD: The POWER of PUDENDA!
Annie jumps up and reaches for the scarlet swatch.
OLD WIZARD: Not so fast! Before you can be accepted as worthy of the second chance, you must perform for me a task!
ANNIE (eagerly): What task? I'll do *anything*!
The old wizard opens his starry robe, revealing a prodigious erection and huge, droopy ballsack.
Annie blinks.
ANNIE: You really ARE the great wang.
OLD WIZARD: You must recharge the Rod of Power. With your sweet lips, and, ahem, tongue.
ANNIE (thinks): Oh well, what have I got to lose? (to Wang) Don't answer that.
Annie places her mouth on the colossal cock and kisses it. Then licks. Then sucks. Soon she is bobbing her head up and down on it like a seasoned 42nd Street whore.
OLD WIZARD: Oh God... I mean gods... that's it... work it, baby... that is, use your earth goddess magick... mmmm... yes, now lick my ass, baby...
He turns and presents his wrinkled posterior. Annie looks briefly disgusted, then forces herself to comply, shoving her face between the saggy cheeks and lapping vigorously while Wang masturbates. Then he spins round and SPURTS!
ANNIE: Glub!
OLD WIZARD: Good! Now fiollow me and great power will come to you!
Grabbing her wrist, he pulls her from the apartment, her face spattered in spunk and her pajama top flapping, showing everything.
EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY
Show original message
"How are things with PORCC?" asked Suki, referring to the People's Own Rape Crisis Centre. She flicked a switch and images from the live feed appeared. There was Mollie in her perspex coffin, sobbing. There were four naked sluts being raped sweatily on the floor while another slut, naked and covered in raw, sexually degrading tattoos, painted the scene on a wall. Each of the four rapesluts was being double-penetrated, apart from Bell, who had her throat full also, and the Slit, who had been ordered to lick the balls and assholes of the rapists. Of course, the hypno-whore had absolutely no choice but to obey.
"We're keeping it covered," smiled Lea. "Obviously we can't broadcast live because the cops would be duty-bound to intervene. Some of the material is pretty edgy, but nothing we'd have to censor. Of course, if they go too far and kill a cunt or two, we might have trouble broadcasting THAT."
"Pity," said Suki, stroking her pussy at the thought. "I know it'd get a great audience. Maybe there's a way..."
She clicked another switch, and the image changed to a naked, and apparently quite young girl being subjected to an anal train gang-bang. The girl's face was red, tear-stained and contorted with pain.
"Ah, it's that climate change cunt," said Suki with a grin. "High time she got a hard raping. I hope they destroy that little whore's asshole."
Lea grinned, and couldn't tear her eyes away from the enticing scene.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
Footnotes:
The opening is a sequel to The Crimson Pudenda! (http://ravishu.com/forums/index.php?topic=44324.0)
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The first part of this chapter is mainly scat, then violence, then horror. With a bit of rape all the way through...
PART TWENTY-FIVE
DOMESTIC SQUABBLES
"Dinner time!" Carrie's heart sank at the words. She allowed herself to be herded through to the kitchen with the other bimbos, then positioned on a pair of dildos - this time she got a pair that twisted, snakelike inside her orifices, causing her to squirm and wince.
Food was brought in - at least, for the other girls. After days of eating nothing but shit, Carrie felt ill and starved. Again, a silver salver with a cover was placed before her.
"We thought you might be getting tired of the same old shit, day in and day out," said Basil, "so we made a change."
He removed the cover, revealing a big pile of shit with little sausages sticking out of it.
Immediately, the other girls, led by Bella, began to giggle. Carrie blushed. With Basil hovering over her seat, wielding a whip, she had no choice but to eat her foul repast. Determined to get at least some nutrition, she started with a sausage, grimacing at the taste of the faesal matter adhering to it.
The girls giggled louder. Finally, even Angela, who hadn't laughed before, burst out in a nasty guffaw (yes, Dr. Petersen had had a hypnotic word in her ear).
It was too much. Carrie jumped up, painfully yanking the dildos from cunt and asshole, and yelled, "Stop laughing at me, you... you bloody bitches!" It was the strongest swear she could think of in the moment. And then she picked up a handfil of the stinky dinner and slung it at Angela.
SPLAT! The excrement hit the Irish redhead right in the face, spattering brown dollops onto her pert tits and spilling more into her lap. Angela, in turn, wrenched herself loose from the plastic anal and vaginal intruders (studded ones) and hurled herself across the table at Carrie. Their tormentors had abandoned the practice of strapping them in for dinner times, having broken their spirits and instilled enough fear, it was thought, to be able to do without restraints, so long as the sluts were supervised.
Anyway, Angela grabbed Carrie's blonde locks and pulled, climbing across the table (trying not to use the sore soles of her feet), shoving Carrie's face into the remaining pile of shit-and-sausages, and then bearing her to the floor. Carrie banged her head, kneed Angela between the legs, and slapped her shit-smeared face. She tried to wrestle the redhead off her, but her fingers were slippery with faeces, so she grabbed the long russet tresses and yanked visciously.
Then Basil's whip cracked down hard on Angela's bare ass, making her yelp, and Turk grabbed a clump of red hair and pulled her off.
"You two need a lesson," declared Basil, and the blonde and the redhead were frogmarched, tits bouncing, out into the hall. Pausing at a certain door, both men inserted nose-plugs into their nostrils, while their captives looked on with perplexity turning to dread...
The door to the foul-smelling bathroom was then opened and the girls were shoved in and made to kneel in front of the filthy bathtub where all the sluts (save the entombed Mollie) had been pissing and shitting for days. The girls, far from broken-spirited, it seemed, kicked and struggled, but the far stronger men prevailed and, gripping fair and red hair respectively, Basil and Turk shoved the girls' heads down until their faces were inches from the deep pull of piss and shit that half-filled the tub.
"No, please!" cried Carrie, when the inevitable was obvious, and then, "Glubbubluglugluggurgle..." as the men, laughing wildly, thrust each foolish female face into the filth.
It would have been poetically apt to rape the girls anally while dunking them, but their pussies looked so tempting, like pink clamshells protruding between their pale thighs, that both men opted to sample the joys of straight vaginal rape, ramming in with such force that brown bubbles emerged from the swamp of effluent.
Periodically, the girls would be brought up for air, or what passed for it in that stinking, enclosed environment, but the reaming of their hot little cunts did not pause for a second. Basil's studded prick tore up Angela's pussy with particular savagery, and he was always able to make her choke on the engulfing shit-pool with each well-timed thrust.
To add to the excitement, Basil took out his steel blackjack, or "cobra."
How the cobra works: it's a thick rod with another rod inside, spring-loaded. The touch of a button causes the inner rod to jump out, causing injury to whatever pressure point it touches.
How Basil used the cobra: he set the tip of it on Carrie's anal pucker and pressed the button. Immediately, ten inches of cold steel, as thick as a thumb, rammed into Carrie's asshole, provoking a splurge of agony from below the surface of the piss-pond.
Not to be outdone, Turk took up a toilet brush and, positioning it at the soft mouth of Angela's ass, hammered it into her by striking the base repeatedly with the heel of his hand. Thump! Thump! Thump! the harsh plastic bristles folded up as more and more brush disappeared up Angela's agonized shit-chute, then Turk took the handle and tugged it most of the way out, then shoved it all the way in, rhythmically ass-fucking the screaming/drowning slut with the brush, scouring her rectal lining mercilessly, and pleasantly stimulating his own cock, buried in the parallel opening of the same unfortunate girl.
It was great fun, and you can be sure the gentlemen made it last...
When they were done, the decided all the girls needed cleaning up. Dunking a slut's head in shit is very enjoyable, but you don't want to go on looking at her afterwards. So the other bathroom was used and each girl was given a cold shower and a scrub down. Angela and Carrie had to wait to go last, though, since it was thought amusing to let them sit with their hair dripping with filth, their mouths tasting of shit, for an hour or so.
Becky and Chloe were now spending their days nude, not counting their new tattoos. Their paint-smeared breasts needed a good sponging, which they provided for one another, Becky crying as the sponge touched her hypersensitive nipples and clit.
Parminder and Bella were still begrimed from their gravedigging duties. Bella had lost her dress and was nude, Parminder still had on her lingerie, muddy though it now was. It was considered amusing to let her shower in it and keep it on, soaking wet, after. It looked quite sexy - as translucent as a film on her bruised, beautiful body.
The Slit had always been nude and was not hugely dirty, but Sade thought it good to let her clean her wounds from her whip-fight with Angela.
Then, finally, Carrie and Angela were thrust under the freezing water, clods of muck falling from their encrusted heads.
"I'm sorry about that," said Angela, grudgingly, when she judged that the shower noise might provide privacy. "I think I must be losing my mind. We've got to stick together. Maybe we can escape, or at least one of us could, and get help."
"Oh, I suppose you're thinking that should be you?" pouted Carrie.
"Well, you have to admit your own escape attempt didn't go very well."
"At least I *made* an attempt! Anyway, you can't even walk." Angela was sitting in a plastic chair in the shower, wiggling her sore toes.
"My feet don't feel so bad. I'm pretending to be more lame than I am, in case I get a chance." Actually, Angela's feet were in agony, though the water was numbing. But she was covinced she wouldn't let her feet stand in the way if there was a shot at escaping.
"Alright, I'll help if I can. But I don't see any hope. They're MEN. They're stronger than us, meaner than us, and smarter than us," asserted Carrie, who knew she was dumb and naturally assumed all women were. She wasn't far wrong, of course, but Angela resented the suggestion.
The shit having been washed out of the girls' long hair, flowing down their pale bodies in brown rivulets, and eventually down the drain, they were taken, still wet, to the Group Therapy Room, Carrie walking, Angela crawling, where all the other girls had been put in nooses for the evening, except Bella, who was on the floor being raped. Ray was sitting on her chest, titty-fucking her DD bonanzas, and each time he drew back from her cleavage, much lubricated with spit, Bella would lasciviously lick his anus with great sluttish enthusiasm.
The reason for her eagerness was to be found at her other end, where Basil was raping her asshole while tormenting her clit with a pair of needle-nosed pliers. If Ray was dissatisfied with the quality of anulngus he was receiving, he would nod to Basil, who would then give Bella's clitty an extra-hard twist and tug.
As the blonde and redhead watched, Ray and Basil ejaculated in sync, splattering Bella's tits and the lining of her asshole with their warm jizz, then meticulously bound her legs together and put her in a noose. All the noosed girls had their arms tied behind them and their thighs bound together, forcing them to struggle hilariously to prevent their hanging.
The other gentlemen and Alicia were all sat around in armchairs or couches, as if waiting for a show.
Ray zipped up and handed Carrie and Angela canes, while Dr. Sade inspected Angela's feet. "I think you can just about stand up without painkillers," he decided. "And you'll find it advisable, if you want to win this fight..."
"Each of you has won a whip-fight so far, which we can look on as the semi-finals. Angela handily defeated the Slit, and Carrie whipped Bella's arse. So now you have to face off, cunt against cunt, to win the title. The winner gets to sleep on a bed tonight. The loser not only spends the night in a noose with the rest of the whores, she gets fed shit and she spends six hours tomorrow in the Rape Machine. I'm thinking that should be enough motivation to put on a good show, especially since one of you has had nothing but shit to eat for two days, or is it three?" He smiled at Carrie.
The canes were very swishy, but still more rigid than the riding crops used in previous fights. Angela reckoned they would cause a lot more pain and damage. She also reckoned that Carrie, being a hapless sort of slut, would take a minute to locate any real fighting pluck, and so the first minute of the fight could prove crucial. Though Angela's sore feet, upon which she could barely stand, were a handicap, Carrie's whip-marks from the previous night's fight had barely had a chance to heal, so an all-out attack could leave the blonde bimbo struggling to defend herself.
"Three, two, one..." said Basil and Angela lunged, slashing Carrie across the mouth. Ouch - she knew herself how painful that could be. Carrie shrieked, blubbered, and dropped her cane. Oh well, there's no helping some people. Angela swiped with the cane again, and when Carrie threw her arms up to shield her face (her lip was bleeding), she got it right across the nipples - WHACK! Those big titties bounced like two-fifths of a Newton's Cradle and Carrie folded up into a crouch. Perfect.
Dancing behind her victim, Angela let her have it across the ass-cheeks, the cane adding to the crop-marks still vividly visible from the previous evening's entertainment. Carrie, still bent over, attempted to run away blindly, and for a full minute Angela pursued her, wincing as her feet touched the ground but delivering expert slashes to the defenceless fleeing ass.
This was stopped by Alicia extending a foot and tripping the distraught blonde. Carrie fell hard on her tits, and Angela adopted the time-honoured tactic of sitting on her head, her legs pinning the vanquished one's arms, and laying into her arse with a vengeance. SLASH! SLASH! These strokes hit vertically, bisecting the numerous marks given in a horizontal fashion. Carrie's defeat was total.
Angela continued whipping, waiting for someone to say "When," but no one did, so she just kept thrashing. She knew she'd get a zap from Ray's cattle prod if she stopped without the signal. For five minutes she laid into Carrie's behind until it was decorated with crimson dots, blood either spattering the cheeks of leaking through the skin, it has ward to say which.
Then Ray and Basil took Carrie's ankles and lifted them up and back, parting her legs and raising her pelvis off the floor to make her cunt into a perfect target. Angela could take a hint: she shrugged and swung the cane down hard between Carrie's thighs, striking the tender, recently-raped love-lips with a terrific SWAT! That still didn't lead to a stop signal, so she simply kept doing it, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, with Carrie weeping and wailing underneath her, totally defenseless as her pussy was beaten until if was in even worse shape than her ass. At fifty strokes (he alone had been counting), Ray chuckled and said, "I suppose that's enough."
But it wasn't all for Carrie. They lifted the sobbing girl, bound her arms wrist-to-elbow behind her, and put her head in a noose. This one, however, was too high, so she couldn't reach the ground even on tiptoe. For a minute or so she was left dangling, face turning slowly purple, tongue protruding and eyes bluging, while Angela and the other sluts looked on in horror, then Turk stepped in behind her and rescued her by shoving his steel-studded cock up her asshole. George did his bit too, forcing his unbelievably girth of manhood into the girl's red-raw cunt, so that she was now supported by the two deadliest hard-ons in the house. Needless to say, her relief from death by slow asphyxiation was tempered a bit by this abuse, which threatened to split her succulent body in half, and by her terror of George, who hadn't been allowed to get too close so far, since the blind fear his presence inspired in her was such fun to watch.
Angela wasn't permitted to watch this rape in full, interesting though it was. Austin Creasy, that little homunculus, led her to what had been her own bedroom and bound her to the bed by her wrists, face-down with a pillow under her ass. Though the sounds of Carrie's brutal rape were still audible from down the hall, all was comparatively hushed her.
Angela felt her soft ass cheeks parted by two ragged-nailed thumbs, and Creasy's breath on her asshole. A drop of drool spattered on her tiny pucker.
"Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy being fucked in the back entrance?" said Creasy, pressing his wide dick against her clenching hole.
"It's a little hard to tell," said Angela, sarcastically. "Maybe if it wasn't always RAPE I might have a chance to get to like it. Unh!"
Creasy pushed in, by stages. He would get in a couple of inches, then pull out an inch, then thrust deeper. His sagging belly followed the curve of Angela's arching back.
"Perhaps you just need more experience," whispered Creasy, pushing his tongue into her ear.
He raped her slowly, filled her with his cum, and slithered away, replaced at once by Turk. Then gentlemen raped Angela in the ass all night long. She hadn't slept for two nights, at this point. So this made three.
*
Mollie, buried alive, was shocked when the music suddenly stopped. Her ears rang from the reverberant volume of it.
"Breakfast time!" said Basil, and showered her with meal worms, He didn't drop any down her air tube because meal worms are rich in protein and it had been decided to starve Mollie. Instead he let them rain onto her tits and pussy. The tube which opened out about her groin was at an angle so the worms can shooting out and landed IN her clamped-open fuckholes.
Mollie felt the little impacts, but Basil helpfully turned on the lights so she could see the worms wriggling on her body before they started wriggling IN her body. And before they started biting. Oh yes, meal worms BITE.
Then he pissed on her and left.
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The long awaited new chapter is finally online !
Although the caring men provided Carrie with yummy little sausages added to her dinner, she proved to be an ungrateful slut.
Even Children learn that you don't throw precious food at each other.
So it serves her right to be punished for her insolent behaviour.
As far as Angela is concerned she really learns fast and draws the right conclusions. I'm curious about her future.
But I'm a little bit concerned that our girls will lose too much strength if they are denied sleep every night. This might cause dangerous numbness to their treatment...
Added together a really inspiring resumption ! Looking forward to next posting !
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I imagine some of the cunts will start experiencing blackouts, loss of consciousness soon. This may sharpen their senses the rest of the time. Of course, if it happens while they're bound up and noosed... too bad.
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Really been enjoying this. Damn nasty story. More please >:D >:D
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More very soon! Remember, you can always send suggestions privately.
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Contains scat, torture, rape
PART TWENTY-SIX
WITH A SMILE AND A SONG
Mollie squirmed as the mealworms made a meal of her, and that damn song played again. It had been switched off for maybe hours. Now it was back. At least she could count the number of times it played and get a sense of how long she'd been hear. Too long. Knowing that didn't do her much good, but it might help her keep from going crazy. Even if they'd just play a different tune...
"Goodbye my love it's hard to die /
When all the birds are singing in the sky..."
*
"Parminder," said Ray. "It's time for your beating."
He led her into her bedroom, where George and Dr, Petersen were waiting. George had an iron bar, Ray had brass knuckles on one fist and a length of chain in the other. Petersen had a baseball bat.
Parminder stood in the centre of the room in her tattered underwear, unable to do anything except wait, and then take whatever was dished out. Her body was so bruised, bruises on top of bruises, little cuts, weals and scrapes, it looked like she was wearing a skintight pointilist painting. But the shapes, the curves of her lovely body, were still beautiful, and that made you want to beat her some more.
Ray punched her in the stomach with his knuckleduster and that made her curl up beautifully, presenting her ass to Petersen as if to say "Hit me, hard!" He swung the bat and it whumped into the soft buttock-flesh, knocking the slut forward, head-first into the wall. It was a weak partition and her head left a round, cracked depression in the plasterboard.
The slut fell to her knees so George grabbed her long hair and hauled her away from the wall, exposing her front side to further violence. Ray lashed her tits with his chain and Petersen got her in the belly with a sharp prod from his bat.
George tapped her on the shins with his iron bar, breaking the skin. He'd rather break her legs: he was getting tired of taking it easy. He'd rather take her head off. Why should he go easy? He'd rather go for broke, especially if what broke was the slut's ribs. But the others had drilled into his head that he should be careful, make the bitches suffer as long as possible, leave the heavy stuff until they'd exhausted their ability to give pleasure. George didn't see why: after all, there were seven of the cunts, plus the one in the ground made eight. What would it matter if one got smashed up? You could still rape her after breaking her arms and legs, couldn't you? Even smashing her skull in like an eggshell wouldn't make her fuckholes unusable, 'cept maybe her mouth...
He sighed. It was tiresome. He tapped the slut in the ribs and had the satisfaction of hearing her moan in pain and try to curl up, which she couldn't do because he was holding her hair, keeping her on her knees.
Ray and Petersen kicked her thighs apart and kept them open by standing with one foot each on her shapely calves. Then Ray swung the chain up between her legs, good and hard, producing a unique and charming facial expression when the Indian slut felt the impact on her pussy. Then Petersen treated the same spot with the bat, so George had a go with the bar and just about lifted the slut up to the ceiling, making the other two men stagger as Parminder's legs were yanked from under her feet.
"Easy, George," laughed Ray. "It's only the slut we want to hurt, not each other."
George grunted. The slut was now hanging from her hair at arm's length, so her battered her tits, ribcage and belly with his bar. Petersen took aim and gave her a good kick in the cunt with his shiny shoe.
George had an idea. He dropped Parminder - she flopped to the floor, her limbs moving as loosely as her tits and her long hair - then grabbed her ankles and lifted the to his shoulder, holding her so she dangled upside down along the front of his body.
"Excellent idea!" said Ray, and waded in, punching the sobbing slut repeatedly in the stomach and cunt with his knuckleduster. When he was out of breath, he let Petersen have his turn, and the pencil-necked professor swung that bat just as hard as he could, which didn't seem half hard enough to George, but it produced some good OOMPH sounds from the dangling fuckmeat.
Then George took an ankle in each hand and stretched Parminder's legs wide open, his arms being so huge and long and strong that he could make her do the splits painfully in mid-air. That was a perfect chance for Ray and Petersen to swing the chain and the bat right down into her throbbing cunt.
Then George held Parminder by just one ankle, took hold of the foot, and gave it a sharp twist. She shrieked. George grunted: just right. He had sprained it without breaking or dislocating it. George was a good boy.
They lifted her onto her feet, but she favoured one. George held her arms behind her back, both wrists pinned in his massive fist.
"Now, you get the same again unless we're satisfied with what you tell us, and it has to be more interesting than yesterday, Talk, cunt," said Ray, tweaking a nipple.
But Parminder didn't talk. She sang. She'd always liked singing as a little girl. She was afraid her voice might be ruined by the all the screaming and thrroat-raping. But she'd been thinking all day of a way to impress the gentlemen and stave off the second daily beating.
Her voice came out cracked and tremulous, but as her confidence increased, so did the beauty. And her words were calculated to please.
"Beat me black, beat me blue
Make me do what you want me to
Rape me once, rape me twice
My sweet little cunt is paradise
I'm just a worthless little slut
A cunt to be abused
Why don't you smack my naked butt?
It might keep you amused
Rape me three times, rape me four
Oh please mistreat this stupid whore
Rape me five times, rape me six
I drink the pee from countless pricks
I'm just a mindless piece of ass
A cunt without a brain
Please bind this weak and helpless lass
And thrash me with a cane.
Rape me seven times, rape me eight
I'm in heaven when I feel your hate
Rape me nine times, rape me ten
I'm just slime but I worship men.
Use this femininity
I'll fulfill your needs
Rape me to infinity
Beat me till I bleed
Mighty masculinity
Fill me with your seed
You stole my young virginity
Now steal my life, I plead.
Kiss me, thrill me,
Whip me, kill me,
Kill me... kill me..."
Her voice faded.
Ray actually applauded, quite sincerely.
"A fine effort, cunt. Now, where would you like me to extinguish this cigarette? Nipple, or anus?" He inhaled until the tip glowed.
"Ahhhh... nipple..." moaned Parminder.
Ray thoughtfully blew smoke in her face. "Excellent choice. Of course, that means you get burned TWICE..." Petersen lit a cigarette.
Grinding a lit cigarette into a screaming girl's nipple is a rare pleasure. Two little angry red lunar craters were left in Parminder's aereolas. Two more injuries which somehow enhanced her beauty, instead of harming it. Admiring the sight, Ray took hold of both nipples and pinched and twisted as hard as he could. Parminder cried very prettily.
Then huge hands encircled her tiny waist from behind and George was lifting her into the air until her jet-black hair brushed the low ceiling... Ray and Petersen took hold of her dainty ankles and lifted and spread her legs...
CRUNCH! George slammed the brown beauty down onto his massive dick, spearing her asshole in a single, brutal movement. Parminder felt like all her internal organs were about to be blasted out of her mouth by the impact. Before she could even scream, Petersen was raping her cunt, the two men thrusting fast and hard as if they wanted to cum as quickly as possible so they could start raping and torturing her all over again.
It only took ten minutes for them to blast her fuckholes with burning cum, but it felt like much longer. They dropped her to the floor and left. Parmnder lay curled up and sobbing, the scalding jizz oozing from her gaping anus and raw twat.
"Crawl over here, my dear," said Christian. "It's not over."
Parminder raised her head, snivelling. Ray was sat in a chair with his cock out. A whip was in his hand. It consisted of three thin, swishy iron rods.
Oh well. Parminder crawled on her hands and knees, feeling the warm goo running down her aching inner thighs. She began to suck the nice prick like a good little whore. Ray beat her ass as she sucked. The whip was very painful. And Ray was well-trained. He could delay orgasm for an hour.
So he did.
*
It was night. Mollie could tell that, as no light filtered down through her breathing tube from the surfec to her plastic face mask. And it was quiet. No music anymore. The only sound was the skritch skritch of bugs and worms crawling on her naked body, nesting in her hair and he clamped-open cunt and asshole.
"Starry, starry night..."
A voice. A raspy old man voice, singing.
"Hello!" cried Mollie. She was certain the voice didn't belong to one of the gentleman callers. But maybe it was just a voice in her head?
Bairnsfather had been staggering towards home, which in his case was behind a dumpster. He had just sold a pretty teenage abductee into sexual slavery to Old Jake, who had money to burn and liked enslaving pretty young things. He had gotten royally smashed on the proceeds. Now he needed to sleep it off, but he had been aware for some time of another need...
"Hello?"
It was a voice, a pretty girl voice, coming from a patch of lawn outside a big building. He staggered over a small fence to get closer, puzzled by such a voice without a pretty girl body to go with it.
"Whoozzat?" he slurred.
"Please help me, they buried me here!" cried Mollie, her voice feeding up dimly from her air tube, emerging from a funnel that was sunk into a patch of bare ground.
Buried? Bairnsfather pussled this over. He could have sold the cunt to old Greg, but she was buried and it would be far too much work to dig her out.
"Please, get help, tell someone I'm here," pleaded Mollie, desperately.
Bairnsfather was no longer listening. The cunt was no possible use to him. But the funnel might be. He'd been needing a shit for some time, and hadn't found a quiet corner to do it in. He inched down his ragged trousers.
The dim light from above was eclipsed, Mollie heard a straining sound, and then a foul-smelling collection of solids and liquids spilled from the air tube into her face mask, which promptly filled up.
This was death by suffocation, she knew. Unless...
Weeping silently, Mollie began to eat...
Bairnsfather wiped his ass on some leaves he plucked from the weeds in the little PORCC garden, hitched up his pants, and left. By the morning he had forgotten all about that strange hole in the ground that talked.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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I'm horribly looking forward to when Parminder cannot forestall that second beating... I hope it occurs while the men rape her.
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Such crude tools as an iron bar shouldn't be used on such a delicate wisp as Parminder.
Ray is a lot more sophisticated. He seems to know how to enjoy for a longer time.
But apart from that I hope Parminder's pussy will get some attention soon… :emot_thedrool.gif:
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Clearly, Parminder's luck, if you can call it that, can't hold out forever. And when it runs out, her pussy will be in for at least as much punishment as the rest of the slut. :emot_rotf.gif:
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Torture and asphyxiation are the main attractions in this episode...
PART TWENTY-SEVEN
THE NOT-SO-GREAT ESCAPE
"Carrie," whispered Angela.
"What?" replied Carrie, struggling to maintain her balance to avoid asphysiation.
"Can you reach over and chew through the string?" asked Angela. She was resting upside down with her head and shoulders on the floor and her feet held up by strings tied around each big toe. The strings, therefore, were relatively close to Carrie, who was standing with her legs bound together tightly and a noose round her neck. Both girls had their thumbs tied together behind their backs. This was how they were to spend the night.
What made the situation of each girl even more uncomfortable was that each had a vibrator thrust inside her pussy, taped to the inner thigh and with a clitoral stimulator doings its work on exactly the right spot to cause maximum distress.
"Why should I?" said Carrie, standoffishly.
Angela sighed. The blonde was evidently upset that she'd giggled when Carrie was forced to eat shit. Well, everyone else had laughed too. Angela couldn't say just why the degrading sight had struck her as funny. She supposed the others had set her off. She couldn't know that Dr. Petersen had placed a hypnotic command in her mind instructing her to express amusement at the blonde's humiliation.
"If you get me free, I can get you free, and we can all escape!" hissed Angela. Carrie really was phenomenally stupid, she thought.
Carrie frowned, her small female brain considering the problem. Finding no immediate objection other than the undoubted fact that she was cross with Angela, and jealous of her comparative intelligence, fighting spirit, and the fact that Angela didn't have to literally eat human shit twice a day, she decided to help, encouraged by Bella and Parminder, who were similarly trussed up a short distance away.
Angela strained to move her feet as close as possible to Carrie's mouth, and Carrie leaned as far as she dared without choking herself, and she was able to start biting at the strings. She nearly stumbled several times over the next hour, choking and righting herself with difficulty, but eventually Angela was free, or at least, her feet were.
Angela now set about contorting herself to ger her hands in front of her body instead of behind. She sat and easily got her thumbs around her bare bottom, then worked one leg at a time through until her hands, still bound, were in front of her where they could be more useful. She hobbled (for her feet were still very sore indeed) to the window and opened it.
"Hey! What about us?" demanded Carrie.
"I'll send help," said Angela. "But it would be too risky, all of us going at once." She assessed the drainpipe's strength, and decided to risk it.
"Wait!" cried Carrie. "This isn't fair!" All she could think was that if Angela didn't manage a rescue by morning, she would find herself licking all the other sluts' arseholes clean before sitting down to a breakfast of warm poo.
"Ssshh!" said Parminder, "She's right, you have to let her go!"
"Come back!" yelled Carrie.
"Shut up, you dozy bitch!" cried Bella, "You'll get her caught!" Bella writhed in her bonds. Carrie needed a good kick, in her opinion, but with her legs tied together and a noose round her neck, any attempt at supplying it would be fatal.
"But..." whimpered Carrie, wiling under the glares of the other caprives. She shut up and watched brokenheartedly as Angela shimmied out of sight.
Anyone standing outside the PORCC premises that night could have enjoyed a wonderful view of Angela's arse from below as she worked her way carefully and painfully down the drainpipe, her feet throbbing and nails breaking on the metal and stone as she struggled to keep her grip. Her pink pussy lips peeked from between her pale thighs as the freckled redhead lowered herself towards the garden. The windows of PORCC were dark, and if she could get outside the garden and away up the street, she could be comparatively safe.
Of course, Angela knew that her chances of escaping further rape on the city streets after dark, naked, with her hands boung thumb to thumb, were slim. She full expected to be raped senseless. But she felt that even allowing for that, she could eventually find someone to help the girls back at PORCC. Admittedly, her three main ideas would never have worked, but something else might have...
Angela thought she could go to SHITHOLES, the charitable organisation that ran PORCC, and tell them what was going on. This probably wouldn't have done any good, since the trustees of that worthy body would have been far more concerned with hushing up a scandal than with actually helping some silly cunts who got themselves raped. Most likely the victims would have been moved out of PORCC to some other location, which Christian Ray could easily have arranged.
Angela also considered the police to be an option, not realising that the cops were involved in the Rape-Off, fully complicit and regarding it as a terrific bit of fun. If She'd presented herself at a police station she would have found herself beaten black and blue (or bluer, really), raped some more, and then returned to PORCC for more of the same.
Angela had even considered going to FUX TV, her employers/persecutors. While this may seem foolish, given that FUX specialised in rape and violence against women for purposes of entertainment, Angela did not realise that the company had cameras and microphones all over PORCC, recording the entertainment on offer. She naively thought that the level of violence, which seemed destined to end in death for at least some of the captive sluts, would be beyond what even Suki Chung, the CEO, would consider legal and acceptable. Any rescue by FUX would surely result in the girls being abused further, but they ought to be safe from murder, reasoned Angela.
So it can be seen that Angela's chances of bringing about a rescue were close to zero, but had she fallen into the hands of some weird samaritan, perhaps something could have been done. But of course, that didn't happen.
Angela was crossing the lawn on her hands and knees when the front door opened, releasing a shaft of light which fortunately didn't fall across her bare buns. She threw herself flat, trying to silence her breathing.
A neat silhouette appeared in the doorway, raised something to its featureless face - and there was a click and the flame of a Zippo illuminated Basil, lighting his cigarillo.
"Hello?" said a small, muffled voice, directly under Mollie.
Basil apparently didn't hear it, went on smoking.
"Hello? Please help me!" the voice continued. It was Mollie!
Angela couldn't quite process what this meant but she did kno that Mollie was going to fuck up her escape plan.
"Hush!" she went, as quietly as she could.
"You've got to help me!" continued the voice, and Angela realised it was coming from a small, circular opening in the lawn, like a golf hole. She slid towards it silently.
"I've been here for days," sobbed Mollie, "and I think I'm going ou-"
The voice was muffled as Angela lowered one small breast onto the hole, sealing it up. She looked back cautiously at Basil. Still smoking, none the wiser. She would wait for him to finish his smoke and go back inside before she made another move.
Six feet under in the darkness of her filthy grave, Mollie continued to plead her case, but she soon noticed it was getting stuffy. Angela, of course, had completely blocked her airhole with her left titty, a hole which led down a tube to a plastic mask fitted to Mollie's face, meaning there was very little spare oxygen in there. Mollie's gasping pleas used it up that much quicker.
As Basil puffed away contentedly outside, enjoying the taste of nicotine and the cool night air, and Angela shivered on the lawn, not enjoying the air quite so much, Mollie experienced the onset of asphyxiation, and didn't like it...
Angela looked at the glowing tip of the cigarillo and wondered how long Basil would be. She was a little worried about Mollie's air supply, but reasoned that a coffin could hold quite a lot of air. Then she noticed two more holes in the lawn and figured Mollie would be fine. For some reason no sounds emerged from there, which did puzzle her. Of course, these holes were not connected to Mollie's air tube, but were used for dropping creepy-crawlies on her tits and cunt.
Angela had time now to process what had been done to Mollie. The bastards had buried her alive! She vowed revenge. She would find help and they would dig Mollie up and she would hug her, and she would make sure the bastards in PORCC paid for everything they'd done to her and the other cunts. Bimbos. Girls. That was the word, girls.
Mollie felt her brain dying. It was quite a good brain, by female standards, but it couldn't function without oxygen. It began to shit down. If there had been any light in the coffin, Mollie's vision would have blurred. As it was, her only perceptible symptoms were disorientation, accompanied by absolute terror.
It would have been a mercy if she'd passed out inside of a minute, but she managed to stay awake, helplessly wriggling in her bonds, for four. Then unconsciousness, harbinger of death, took her.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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PART TWENTY-EIGHT
CATCH THAT CUNT
A cigarillo can take quite a while to smoke. A girl in Mollie's position certainly can't go that long without air. So it was fortunate, in a way, that Basil decided to save some of his smoke for later, carefuly extinguishing it on the wall. He went back inside. The rectangle of light attenuated itself into a sliver, and then all was dark.
Angela stayed in position a little longer, her small breast squeezed into the airhole. Then she tugged it loose, with a barely audible pop like a champagne bottle uncorking. She whispered into the hole.
"Mollie, it's me, Angela. I'm going for help. I'll be back soon and we'll get you out of there. Be strong!"
She crawled off.
Mollie, of course, had not been able to hear any of that.
Oblivious, Angela moved towards the garden gate. She started to open it, and a loud squeak, startling in the quiet night, arrested her. She glanced back fearfully at the PORCC building, which remained dark and silent. So she carefully began to climb the low gate. Thank fuck I didn't bring Carrie and the others, she thought. They would be sure to have thrown the gate wide and sounded the alarm. This kind of thing took brains and fast reflexes.
She had one leg over the gate, wincing at the contact her sore feet had to make on the cold metal, when a light came on behind her. She turned, alarmed, her naked body and flame-red hair gleaming in the sudden illumination. Christian Ray was at the upper storey window, and she saw him calling excitedlty to someone behind him.
Angela threw herself over the gate and started limping down the street. Glancing back with a flick of her hair, she saw Ray dash off, presumably to fetch the others and head for the exit.
She quickly changed direction, hobbling the other way down the street. If she could get out of sight behind the corner, she could send them heading the wrong way. She winced each time her burnt feet touched the pavement.
Breathless, she rounded the corner and limped away, listening to the sound of footsteps heading the wrong way. Being barefoot, at least she could move quietly, though she was starting to shiver from the cold. She rounded another corner, hoping to complicate things for her pursuers if they doubled back, again grateful that she was alone.
A noise up ahead made her shrink back into the shadows. Rowdy laughter and conversation. A group of friends, just out the pub by the sound of them. But there were women's voices amid the bubbub. That was promising.
Angela advanced to the corner just as the throng was passing. Seven of them, four young men and three girls.
"Hey! Help me! I'm in danger!" It sounded pathetic to her ears, but she had to start the conversation somehow.
The group turned as one, the men looking surprised but rather pleased, the women mainly startled.
"Hey... are you... naked?" asked one guy, a smile spreading on his face.
"I've been abducted and raped," explained Angela, putting on a pitiable expression that was not too far from how she felt. The women looked sympathetic. The men looked mainly horny, with a slight show of concern for the ladies' benefit.
"Aren't you... Angela S-?" asked another guy. Angela hesitated, which did no good. "It's alright, guys." the man went on, "Getting raped is what Angela does for a living!"
The guys grinned. The women looked a lot less worried. They began to smile.
"I like that show she used to be on, that Robo-Warriors," said a willowy brunette. "It was really sexy. You never knew how they were going to abuse her next."
"Please," said Angela, "I need to get to the police station..."
"Yeah, we used to like seeing you get beaten," said the largest of the men. "Why'd you stop?"
"Hey, we could have some fun with her," said the brunette. "Like on TV."
"Please -" continued Angela, but was cut short when the large man cracked her across the face with the back of his hand. She staggered back, leaning against the wall for support.
"Wow, that sure made her little tits bounce!" laughed a plump girl.
"We could really have a LOT of fun with this cunt," said another of the men.
Angela realised that resistance would just make things worse. Sighing, she resigned herself to another round of abuse and rape.
"OK, OK, do what you want to me," she said, her voice trembling, "But, afterwards, please -"
The big guy stamped on her foot. Her bare foot with the badly burned sole, his big heavy boot. Angela screamed.
A skinny guy jumped forward, grabbed her, and pressed his leather-gloved hand over her mouth. "Keep it down, slut."
The big guy stamped on her other foot. Angela screamed again, but the hand on her face muffled it. Then the big guy slugged her in the stomach.
"Who wants a turn?" he asked, as Angela's face turned red. She could hardly breath through the hand covering her lower face, and the air had been knocked out of her.
The plump girl stepped forward, giggling. She took hold of one of Angela's nipples and pinched, hard. Tweaking, pulling and twisting, digging her nails in. Angela tried to push her hand away but her arms were pinned, and still bound.
The girl grabbed her clit with her other hand. Now she was yanking and clawing at nipple and clit, bringing tears to Angela's eyes, which the girl seemed to find hilarious. Then she cupped the titty she'd been tormenting, bent her head, and bit into the soft flesh, savagely. General laughter (except from Angela).
"Are you going to have a go?" the brunette nudged her boyfriend.
"You won't be jealous?" he grinned, shyly.
"I can hardly be jealous if it's rape, can I?" she smiled at him. "So long as you beat the shit out of her afterwards, I won't mind."
Angela stared with wide,shiny eyes, hearing it all, the big hand still covering her lower face.
The guy stepped forward, still smiling shyly, then the gagging hand was removed and he struck Angela a smack in the mouth that spun her around. He shoved her face first into the wall and pressed against her, fumbling his dick around behind her. She grunted and squeaked in pain as he jammed it up her ass. Great, she thought, I'm getting ass-raped because the guy can't find the right hole in the dark.
The guy thrust furiously into her butthole for several minutes until Angela began to weep in spite of herself. She was sure her asshole must be bleeding, but then it filled with a warm liquid that wasn't blood... The fluid felt like acid on her raped-raw rectal lining.
"The slut felt that," laughed the guy's girlfriend. "Now remember, you have to beat the shit out of her properly..."
"Some of us haven't had our turn yet," protested one of the other men, but he was laughing.
Angela's whole front had been scraped raw against the wall during the butt-raping. Her tits were grazed and red. The guy didn't care, he rolled her over on the wall and kneed her in the guts. Angela doubled up, retching, feeling the cum bubble from her asshole. Then the guy dragged her by the hair until she fell on the ground, and kicked her in the side, the ass, tried to kick her in the cunt but once again could't seem to find it...
"Grab her ankles," said the girlfriend. Two of them did that, lifting her legs and spreading them so her ass was off the ground. The girlfriend lifted one foot and Angela saw the six inch stiletto heel a second before she stamped it down into Angela's exposed cunt.
Angela screamed. Everyone laughed. STAMP! STAMP! The heel pierced her cunt and it was like being fucked with a kitchen kniife. STAMP! STAMP!
A laughing girl lowered her ass onto Angela's face and smothered her shrieks of pain. STAMP! STAMP!
Angela felt sure both her holes were ruined, and then the heel went into her ass and she was sure of it.
They dragged her to her feet and she was sandwiched between two guys who DP'd her, blood trickling down her thighs, everyone laughing and commenting humorously on the progress of the rape. They had some trouble getting their thrusts in sync, but once they managed it they were able to lift her right off her feet so that her whole body weighted rested on the stiff pricks violating her fuckholes. Both guys came inside her, but it took much, much too long from Angela's point of view..
There was just one guy left, the big guy who'd hit her first. He got them to hold her arms and he punched her a bunch of times. Face, stomach, tits. The girls loved it when he smashed her in the titties and made them bounce. Her tits were going to be black with bruises.
Then he raped her against the wall, alternating between cunt and asshole, then made her kneel and suck her the blood, shit and cum from his massive schlong. Tastes that never seemed to get any better for Angela. Somehow she just couldn't get used to being a fucktoy and human toilet... The big came in her face, taking special care to wipe his dripping cock in each of her eyes.
That was all of them, right? So it was over? Wrong. The girls wanted some fun too. Angela was kept on her knees and had to lick the chubby girl's cunt and asshole. A brunette girl who looked underage turned out to have a cunt full of cum, which Angela had to lick out. The third girl just clawed her tits and pinched her clit until it was bleeding.
Then they all gathered around Angela and beat her and kicked her, hard, until she was flat on the ground. Then they kicked her some more. With the girls holding her legs apart, the guys were able to land some really effective kicks on her cunt, but her ribs, stomach, back, tits, head and face were not neglected either. By the end of the spectacular beating, Angela was bleeding everywhere. Dr. Sade would have approved. Apart from a couple of cracked ribs, the damage was mostly bruising, grazes and little cuts all over the tender flesh, though there was a fratifying amount of internal damage too: Angela would have blood in her piss and stools for some time to come.
Finally, the guys pissed on her. They got her on her back and stood on her long hair to hold her face still, and pissed right into it. The girls stamped on her tits with their high heels to make her scream so she got plenty of mouthfuls. They pissed on her tits, her cunt, and in her hair. They left her in a puddle of piss, barely able to move. They walked away laughing.
Angela, in a cloud of pain, wanted to call out after them and ask them to at least send help to PORCC, but she couldn't formulate words and her voice didn't seem to work. She was in so much pain she could barely groan.
"I didn't like to interrupt the young people's fun," remarked Ray.
Angela opened her cum and piss soaked eyes and Christian Ray swam halfway into focus, looking down at her and smiling ironically.
"Your feet are bleeding. I followed the red footprints."
Angela managed a very faint groan.
"Of course, you'll have to be punished for this."
He put a collar and leash on Angela and made her crawl back to PORCC. She was weeping softly the whole way. Swats from a riding crop, delivered to her ass, her swollen cunt lips, and the soles of her feet, provided suitable motivation, though. It took a long time, especially with Angela being forced to suck off every stranger they met en route, but they got there.
Meanwhile, of course, they'd already started punishing Carrie for her role in the "escape"...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Daaaaamn Skuttrusk...! I mean... wow!
Carrie’s big jugs would make for fine pincushions, you know, bristling with all those roundhead dressmaker pins before beating them ballsdeep with a crop! ;) just saying! And, of course, any electroshock therapy administered after would be felt most keenly...
Your talent never fails to deliver, sir. Keep on keeping on getting worse and worse and worse to the whores, for all our sakes! You’re doing this for all of RU - our champion! ;)
I cannot wait to see what comes next....
Tars
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Thanks!
Pins are a good idea, we haven't had those yet.
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;D ;D >:D >:D
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Contains violence, rape and scat.
PART TWENTY-NINE
CARRIE'S PUNISHMENT
As Angela crawled home, and Mollie recovered consciousness in her plastic coffin with a splitting headache, George and Austin were assigned the task of delivering Carrie's initial punishment. They made it very clear that it would have to be an exceptionally severe punishment, well beyond the beatings and rapings she had received thus far. Carrie was of course hysterical with terror because she believed George wanted to kill her. Not an especially bright girl, she was on this point more or less correct.
They dragged the sobbing blonde into the kitchen, her arms still bound behind her but her legs untied. Anticipation and not knowing what would be done to her made her anxiety all the greater.
Austin arranged a low chair at the kitchen worktop and they sat her in it so her breasts were laid on the table surface. Her fear at this was something to see. In fact the punishment that followed was comparatively mild compared to what was to come. George took a meat-tenderizing hammer, heavy, wooden and with a series of little pyramidal shapes carved into its flat, square surfec. The surface you hit the meat with.
WHAM! Carrie squealed as her breast was temporarily squashed by a heavy blow from the instrument. WHAM! On the other tit. Each squashed out considerably when struck, before resuming its original round, perky shape, like a cartoon character. WHAM! WHAM! The hammer was the perfect implement for this: George intended to make Carrie's tits bruised, not only on the upper slopes where the hammer fell, but all the way through. Gneuinely tenderizing her titties.
With this going on, Carrie barely noticed Austin positioning something cold and metallic at the mouth of her asshole.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
Looking over Carrie's shapely shoulder, Austin tittered at her juddering tit-flesh, repeatedly mashed by the vicious blows, wobbling like delicious jellies. Then he thrust.
Carrie's screams rose several octaves. The apple-corer was greased just enough that it could slide past the suffering girl's anal defences, but it was a hollow cylinder with a serrated end - little metal teeth that scraped the rectal lining savagely as the instrument was driven in, drawing a fine series of bloody scratches along the inside of her asshole. When Austin had shoved it up to the hilt, he then began twisting it as he ass-fucked her with it, making sure that every part of her anus was abraded and grazed by the sharp steel points.
After ten minutes of this very sound treatment, they dragged the sobbing slut over to the electric cooker. Austin turned two of the hot plates on to a fairly low setting, and George forcibly bent Carrie forward so that her battered tits were pressed flat against the rapidly heating surfaces. The apple-corer had been left shoved deep in Carrie's rear entrance, and George now took hold of it and began raping Carrie's asshole with the vicious implement even more brutally than Austin had done.
Carrie's cries turned to screams as she felt her titties cooking. The gentlement kept her bent over until smoke was wisping up from her burning udders, at which point George tugged her back by her blonde locks. He had to pull quite hard to rip her free of the hot plates, as her scorched skin wanted to stick to the red-hot surfaces, but eventually she was peeled free. Her tits were bright red.
They marched/dragged the weeping ruin to see Dr. Sade who, when he had stopped laughing, pronounced her condition "Satisfactory. No serious damage to the skin. Her anus will heal up in time, too. But she's going to be a very sore little slut. And we haven't even started with the Raping Machine."
Carrie wailed anew at the mention of that dread implement. She had been promised hours strapped into it as her "prize" for losing the whip fight to Angela. Now, no doubt, her punishment would be even more beastly, since she'd really done something to deserve it. Carrie's feeble, traumatised mind really did interpret this as a fair, logical and well-deserved chastisement, and she cursed herself inwardly for her stupidity in not simply obeying orders and taking her abuse.
Sade and Turk strapped Carrie into the harnesses of the rape rack, and the Thark 209 hummed menacingly as it warmed up. Built on the principle of the fucking machine, it had two powerful pistons with dildos on each. Huge, completely rigid dildos with steel studs on them. The main difference between this and a regular fucking machine was the power and velocity of its movements, designed to cause agonizing pain and injury to its victims. The instruction manual recommended that no slut should be subjected to the "High" setting for more than half an hour, but nobody in PORCC had bothered to read the small print. They intended to let Carrie's holes have the most violent abuse possible for fully three hours.
Alicia watched the binding in with pleasure, excited at the thought of what the blonde bimbo was about to receive. Each dildo looked just about long enough to rape right through her torso and fuck her in the heart. A mild exaggeration, but you get the idea. With the two deadly weapons primed, slimed (with chilli sauce) and aimed at their defenceless, already sore targets (a delightful trickle of blood ran from Carrie's reamed asshole and oozed between her cunt lips), Turk added a final coup-de-grace:
Pinching Carrie's nostrils, he forced her to open her pretty mouth, then unwrapped from a piece of clingfilm a large, juicy turd. He crammed it into the blonde's mouth as she gagged and tried to shake her head, uselessly. The piece of moist shit was so big he had to smush it up and pack it into every corner of her mouth until her cheeks, and eyes, were bulging grotesquely. Then he lovingly sealed her mouth with a patch of duct tape.
"But she might choke to death," said Alicia, not exactly protesting, slightly turned on in fact, but also worried. Murder was something she hadn't seriously considered being party to.
"So what?" chuckled George, and Carrie's teary eyes darted desperately from one tormentor to another.
"We have six more cunts," shrugged Dr. Sade. "The loss of this one wouldn't hamper our fun much. In fact, it'd probably help keep them in line."
He flicked a switch. The first thrust of the massive dildos nearly ruptured Carrie's cervix, bruising her bladder and further tearing up her anal lining.
As the killer cocks settled in to a steady, murderous rhythm, Alicia watched, hypnotized. She felt she should stay in case Carrie did start to choke and asphyxiate... besides, it was a glorious sight, the steel rods driving those dildos faster than any human cock could manage....
"Come on, leave her to it," said Sade. "We have some other entertainments planned you're no going to want to miss."
Alicia shrugged, patted Carrie's bare bottom, and left.
The helpless bimbo felt her insides being battered bloody, as the turd in her mouth slowly liquified...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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The apple-corer was a nice touch. Vicious little thing.
If the first thrust nearly ruptures Carrie's cervix, it seems unlikely she will survive three hours.
One hopes Angela's entertainment will be similarly or more intense- and should surely be conducted in front of her fellow prisoners as an object lesson...
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Carrie is surviving for now... but she will be the worse for wear.
Certainly, Angela's punishment will be witnessed by the other cunts to make sure they learn the valuable lesson of submission to rape.
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This story is so DeSant in the best way possible.
Thank you for sharing it with us I hope we get to see more.great chapters soon.
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I love these stories so much, when I first read the title, I thought it said "The Great British Rape-Off" ... even with that in mind, it was very enjoyable to read. Thanks for running my imagination wild :)
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Glad you're both enjoying the evil. More soon -- Angela has obviously earned an exceptional punishment and the cunt must be put in her place.
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Finally! Long overdue, the hot little skank! ;)
Tars
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Contains extreme sadism, surgery and bestiality...
PART THIRTY
ANGELA'S PUNISHMENT
As Carrie was ruined by the Raping Machine, he moans muffled by the mouthful of filth she was being forced to suck on, Angela finally arrived back at PORCC. Her knees and the palms of her hands were dirty and bloody from crawling all the way, and her whole body was covered in welts and bruises and grazes. It just made you want to hurt her more, really.
Dr. Sade assessed the damage, and judged it to be "A good start. But now we're going to fix you so you won't be running away anymore."
"What -?" began Angela, but then she was lifted up by arms and legs and placed on the dining table. And it was Becky, Chloe, the Slit and Bella who did the lifting and placing, gripping her wrists and ankles. Parminder stood at the head of the table and stroked her long red locks.
"This is going to hurt terribly, I'm afraid," she said. "But there's no other way. They said if we didn't help by holding you down for your operation, they would kill you, and Chloe. So there's no other way. Be brave."
Angela looked from Parminder to Dr. Sade as he advanced on her with a scalpel. She tried to kick and struggle, despite how tired and sore she was, but she couldn't move an inch.
"This is going to be amazing," said Alicia, her eyes glittering.
The good doctor placed the blade of his scalpel on the ball of Angela's left foot, and cut. She screamed, until Parminder placed a hand over her mouth. The knife slit the skin neatly all the way down the arch of the foot and up to the heel. Blood flowed freely.
"Now, to make sure you don't use these naughty feet for running away..." said Dr. Sade, and inserted seven small, clean, but jagged pieces of gravel into the incision. With the sole of her feet stuffed with sharp, agonizing stones, he then sewed the wound up with the stones inside.
Angela bit into Parminder's hand until she drew blood. Parminder was in agony both for Angela and for herself. Finally, as Sade cut into the right sole, Angela screamed and released the bloody hand. Parminder hesitated a second, then bent forward and thrust her bare left breast into Angela's face, muffling her cries.
Angela tried not to bite hard on Parminder's nipple, but as the scalpel sliced through her sensitive skin, she couldn't help it: she shank her teeth viciously into the succulent brown titty.
Sade carefully stuffed Angela's right foot with jagged little stones, and sewed that one up too.
"Set the cunt on her feet and let's see how she fares," he suggested.
As Angela released Parminder's tit, blood trickling from deep bite marks around the nipple, the other girls lifted her from the table and set her down. The instant they released her and let the weight rest on her feet, Angela shrieked in aginy and collapsed to her knees, then onto her belly. It was unspeakably painful to put any weight onto the gashed and stone-studded extremities.
"That's the serious part of the treatment out of the way," chuckled Sade, "Now for the more humorous diversion."
Parminder lay a dinner chair on it's side, and the other girls dragged Angela to it, bending her over the seat so that she was forced onto her knees with her delectable ass presented as target for whatever came next. Again, the girls held her wrists and ankles, with Parminder gripping her hair.
Christian upturned a jar of honey, letting it trickle onto Angela's asshole and down over her pouting, swollen cunt lips.
Angela, despite the haze of pain in her mind, knew what to expect next. When Basil led the goat in, she groaned.
"Oh noooo..."
As the other sluts watched, wide-eyed, the billy-goat began to eagerly lick out Angela's sweet-testing cunt and asshole, his rough tongue darting with crazed speed, raping both holes with hard, eager little thrusts.
Angela moaned at the lascivious assault. The ferocity had the effect of a Sybian device, impossible to resist. "Uh...uh...uh..."
"Oh wow," said Becky.
Bella giggled.
Dr. Petersen raised an eyebrow. He hadn't even used hypnosis on Bella to make her laugh. A few of the other girls, however...
The Slit, who had been keeping up a more or less continuous sobbing lately, started to laugh through her tears, as Petersen had planned.
Becky and Chloe, being dim-witted cunts anyway, began laughing because someone else was laughing. They stared at the squirming, abject victim of bestial tongue-rape, and couldn't help but snigger.
"Really, Angela..." said Chloe.
"I didn't think you were the kind of girl..." said Becky, and cracked up laughing.
"What a filthy slut!" said Bella in wonderment, giggling some more.
Angela struggled furiously but weakly, feeling her loins heating up to insane levels. Days of frustration and humiliation were mounting to a... yes, a climax.
"Oohhhhh fffffffuck..." she gasped, weeping tears of shame.
"Jesus, I think she's going to..." murmured Bella, half smiling.
"Damn right she is!" guffawed Alicia, smacking Angela's raised butt. "The filthy little cunt's going to cum over a he-goat's tongue!"
Angela became a ware of a high-pitched, trilling laugh, more delicate than the others', joining the chorus of amusement at her plight.
"I'm s-sorry..." cried Parminder through her tittering, "but you've got to admit... it IS sort of funny..."
Angela wept hot tears of total defeat and humiliation, as the one girl she'd thought of as her friend and equal openly laughed at her animalistic rape.
At that moment, Billy the goat (for that was his name) having cleansed the last of the sticky treat from his writhing victim, decided to get another kind of pleasure from her, stamping his front hooves on her shoulder blades as he thrust his long, thin prick into her sopping pussy. Angela yelped with pain (she was by now VERY tender down there), which caused the girls to laugh again in unison, the men joining in, the fundamental difference in status between the dominant rapists and their worthless whore slaves forgotten in a moment of shared humour as Angela's cunt was hammered by rapid, vicious thrusts from her joyfully bleating assailant.
Angela and the goat had simultaneous orgasms, though their feelings about this were fundamentally incompatible. Billy felt very happy as he emptied his furry balls into the Irish redhead's bruised quim, whereas Angela began to sob inconsolably with shame and defeat even as her juices, mingled with his trickled down her inner thighs. She gave a heaving sob as the slender prick was eased from her slit. Parminder stroked her hair tenderly, but was still unable to entirely stop chuckling at the mere memory of the amusing sight.
But the men weren't finished yet. They led Billy around in front of Angela and she gasped as his hooves stomped on her buttocks, his still-erect prick shoved in her face.
"What-? No! Glub!" Angela managed to splutter, before the priapic Billy was throat raping her, the smell and taste of mingled human cunt juice and goat semen pungent in her nose and mouth. This new assault set the sluts off laughing again, led by Bella, whose tits jiggled merrily at the sight of the spluttering Irish bimbo's distress. She only stopped when Basil dragged her to Angela's rear end and forced her, by vigorous application of the steel blackjack, to suck the goat cum from Angela's tender, hairless and swollen cunt-lips. That put an end to Bella's laughter but of course it only made the others laugh harder, especially when Angela, primed for days, experienced another supremely humiliating orgasm and spurted all over Bella's face.
Moments later, Billy completed his oral rape of his new girlfriend, shooting what seemed an impossible quantity of thick and gooey spunk down Angela's throat. She choked, turned crimson, and felt the burning fluid bubble from her nostrils and scald the backs of her eyes, to increased hilarity from her audience.
"Oh God..." she moaned, when she had coughed up the last of the goat spunk. "Kill me. Just kill me. Please?"
"We haven't remotely finished with you," laughed Christian, binding her arms behind her then dragging her by the hair to where the nooses hung. With Turk's help he hoised her up to where her head could be throat through a noose, and then they let her go. Angela SCREAMED as her weight landed on the soles of her feet, and she found it impossible to stand with the jagged rocks inside her skin. She started to throttle, thn found she could just about manage to stay on tiptoe, and her asphyxiation was forestalled.
The other sluts had stopped laughing, except for the Slit, who was still laughing and crying simultaneously. It was obvious that Angela was in deep trouble, for how long could she stay on tiptoe? Alicia and the gentlemen were still chuckling, though, because the silly bitch DID look perfectly ridiculous, teetering on tiptoe with her piteous expression and cum dripping from her chin onto her pert tits. They all simply watched for severl minutes as Angela struggled to avoid hanging herself, and for everyone who was not a bimbo cunt slave, the sight was highly amusing.
Then Dr. Sade applied the BAG. It was a two litre plastic bag filled with shit and pis which had been liquified in a blender. He hung it from the ceiling, slightly higher than Angela's head, and then fitted her with a ball gag, through which a rubber tube was fed. He turned a little tap on the ball gag and the liquid faeces oozed down the tube and into Angela's mouth. The ball gag prevented her from expelling more than a tiny trickle, which flowed slowly down her chin and spattered her cute little titties with brown flecks.
Angela turned green, moaned, tried to avoid choking, tried to avoid throttling. Bella started to giggle again, hesitantly.
Over the course of the next half hour, the sluts crawled back and forth, sucking the gentlemen's cocks (and licking Alicia's pussy), grateful for this relative respite, glad it wasn't them in Angela's horrible position. Angela shifted her weight from foot to foot, toes aching, swallowing a litre of brown, stinking filth, managing just barely to avoid throwing up and thus hoking to death on her own vomit.
Then George brought Carrie in. The poor little fuckpig was white as a sheet from her face to her toes, alabaster tits bouncing gently as she was frogmarched into the Group Therapy Room. Blood was coursing down her marble-white thighs from her broken cunt and asshole, and her legs wobbled as much as her saucy tits. Her eyes seemed glazed, unalert, until they snapped into focus at the sight of Angela.
"You!" she snarled. "First, you whip the shit out of me. Then you TRICK me into helping you escape!" (Knowing herself to be dumb as a post, Carrie had always been sensitive about being outsmarted or exploited for her lack of brains. "And that gets me strapped into a torture machine for HOURS!" (Because it had taken Angela so long to get a few blocks away, get gng-raped and beaten, and then be brought back on her hands and knees, Carrie had endured almost four hours of the Raping Machine at highly unsafe levels.) "And then you don't even escape and get help!"
Austin silently handed Carrie a whip. It was a kind of cat o' nine tails, but instead of leather, the lashes were made of thick barbed wire. Barely even registering its arrival, Carrie staggered towards the object of her rage and, well, lashed out.
WHACK! Angela made the mistake, understandable in the circumstances, of trying to scream as the barbs raked her flesh. Little gashes opened up across her soft belly as the steel sliced across her. And she began choking on shit.
SLASH! Carrie brought the whip back, hitting the ripe little tits and drawing droplets of blood to compliment the shit and cum already adorning the freckled slopes. Angela lost her balance and began to hang, even as she drowned in feculent slime.
Carrie, fortunately for the exultant male audience's entertainment, was blinded by rage and didn't notice this interesting fact, and so -
SLICE! She swung the whip downwards, cutting Angela's nipple, belly, and thigh. Angela emitted another gurgling cough/scream, and tried to regain her footing, resulting only in shooting pains as the jagged stones in the soles of her fet ground up against bones and nerve endings and blood vessels.
CRACK! Carrie swung the whip upwards this time and caught her target squarely between the legs, ripping the outer labia and clitoral hood and even nicking the little rosebud itself. Carrying on its momentum, the whip slashed Angela's lower stomach and the underside of one tit, making red blossom from the pale skin everywhere it touched.
Angela's legs completely gave way beneath her and she hung, the rope digging into her throat, brown bubbles frothing from her nostrils.
Carrie drew the whip back once more, determined to let Angela have it right in her smug, superior cunt face, justifiable revenge in her view for the beating she had received at Angela's hands, though such a blow might easily have blinded the poor slut, when her clouds of fury cleared sufficiently for her to notice that Angela was dying.
Instantly Carrie dropped the whip and staggered forward, embracing the dangling redhead, her big tits squishing up against Angela's smaller ones, the two sweaty and slimed bodies squelching together obscenely as she tried to support the hanging nude. Keeping a hand grasping Angela's shapely, sore butt to hold her up, Angela tore the ball gag from Angela's slack lips, and was immediately sprayed with a shower of hit. Well, she was fairly used to that by now. But the wetness made it all the harder to keep a grip in Angela, her hand slipping up to waist level as the soft flesh squidged together. She braced one knee between Angela's thighs, painfully thudding into the bare-conscious girl's twat, but helping keep her semi-erect, as the tried to dig the rope out of the skin of that slender neck.
Finally Carrie got the noose loosened, and the naked girls fell to the floor with a wet double slap, gasping like landed fish.
"Oh dear," said Christian. "It appears Carrie has greatly exceeded her authority and interfered with the justified punishment of a fellow cunt. A severe punishment is indicated. And of course we were by no means finished punishing Angela, also."
He looked at his watch. "It's been a long night. Time for ablutions, and breakfast."
Her face between Angela's shit, cum and blood-stained bososms, Carrie groaned. She knew what was for breakfast.
Angela groaned too, but she was not really aware of anything that was being said. She just groaned because she was in hell.
Bella giggled. Bella was by this time slightly insane, it has to be admitted. In fact, it would be fair to say that permanent psychological damage had been inflicted on all the cunts, and they were only starting the fourth full day of the Rape-Off, scheduled to run all week.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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As nassssty and brutal as I would wish for, skuttrusk, sir! You are my go-to guy for the nastier slice of fantasy material, here, and then some. The tension is getting unbearable, though, as to who gets offed, and how lavishly cruel it becomes... ?!
Great work!
Tars :D
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PS I can’t believe you are only on 103 merits, still?? add another on, now, from me, and more to come, now that I’m back home again, finally!
Tars
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Is there any plans for more robo-warriors stories with Angela? I'm sure the popularity of that show would have merited a series renewal.
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I LOVED those stories! ;)
(Daily merit applied, skuttrusk)
Tars
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PART THIRTY-ONE
HYPNOTHERAPY
(Contains mostly plain old rape)
Becky And Chloe were painting the kitchen with murals of Carrie's latest beating and rape. Carrie and Angela were strung up by the wrists and ankles, respectively. Bella was hogtied on the floor with two vibrators buzzing away inside her aching cunt. She had orgasmed five times and would likely do so again, as her fleshy body jiggled and shimmered with sweat and she moaned through her ball-gag.
Now, the good doctors were about to transform the Slit.
Dr. Sade injected it with a narcotic of his own devising. He pronged the large needle into its inner thigh and gave it a horse-doctor's dose.
"This should lower its defenses," he said.
Dr. Petersen got the old pocket watch out - this was serious stuff. He dangled the timepiece on its chain in front of the Slit's blank, tearful eyes.
"You are feeling sleepy. Your defenses are down. The doorways of your mind swing open. You will give me free access to all your secrets. I will be free to rape your brain just as I have done your body. Do you understand, cunt?"
"I... understand..."
"You will call me MASTER, cunt."
"I understand... master."
The Slit was looking even more glazed than usual. Christian Ray, Basil, Turk and Alicia watched eagerly. Dr. Sade monitored the Slit's pulse. "Going under," he nodded.
"Do you remember your last job?" asked Petersen.
"I... I was a waitress..." said the Slit.
"And what happened to you at that job?"
"I was... I was raped."
"By one or by many?"
"There were lots of them... Japanese businessmen on a trip."
"What do you remember about the rape?"
"Bodies... pressing down on me... couldn't... breathe..."
Petersen signalled to the others and the crowded in, pressing against the Slit and squeezing its tits and thighs, roughly.
"Oh!" said the Slit.
"What else do you remember?" encouraged Petersen.
"Pain... cock forced inside me... I wasn't ready... uhn!"
At Petersen's signal, Ray shoved his cock into the Slit's slit.
"Pain... pinching and slapping... ow! Ow!"
Petersen had given the signal and numerous hands began tweaking the Slit's nipples, pinching its ass and thighs, slapping its pretty but vacant face.
"What else?"
"Laughter! Cruel laughter!" The Slit's expression had become one of real suffering. It was alert and present in a way it hadn't been for months, as the sensations of the gentlemen abusing it synched with those from the memories it was re-experiencing.
A chorus of laughter sounded from the men abusing the Slit.
"What else?"
"A cock... shoved into my mouth... choking me... using my mouth like... like a pussy.... MNNGGLLFFFF!"
Turk forced his cock between the Slit's lips and rammed it to the back of its throat, then shoved past the gag reflex to rape its throat.
"You are no longer the Slit," said Petersen. "You are now the waitress. You are not an object, you are more than a set of holes, more that a cum repository, you are a girl, a real girl. Say it!"
"I ahm a guhll... uh ruhl guhlll..." gasped the waitress through the cock violating her oesophagus.
"What else did those naughty Japanese men do toy you?" demanded Petersen, and Basil helpfully withdrew his length from her drooling lips, slapping her wetly across the cheeks with it.
"Ah! M-my tits... they put a cock between them... they raped my cleavage..."
Basil dropped down and slid his shaft between the waitress's perky boobies, which were just big enough to be pushed together to make an effective flesh-canyon for him to ravish. The sharp studs affixed to his cock grazed her tender tit-meat. And Christian took over throat-fucking the hapless amnesiac whore.
Dr. Sade injected another dose of his hypnonarcotic, piercing the slut's ass and twisting the needle savagely. The waitress gave a gratifying sob through her mouthful of schlong.
"And what about your asshole, waitress? You can't tell me that all those men left your tight, tender little butthole unmolested? Tell me what they did to your anus, waitress?"
"Glllub... ggg... [gasp]... they put a finger up my butt... then two fingers... then three.... then they raped my arse... while they were still raping my pussy and tits and mouth... and they made me jerk them off as well... I was forced to pleasure six men at once..."
It took some arranging, but the waitress's assailants managed to reconstruct this set up, with the poor girl taking three cocks in her fuck-holes, jerking off two more, and her modest bosom being crushed around Basil's saliva-soaked shaft. George's massive schlong in her ass caused the poor slut considerable pain...
"Another dose of narcosis," suggested Petersen.
"She's at the limit. It might kill her," observed Sade.
"I don't think that's really a worry," said Christian Ray, "unless you object to having a slut expire while you rape her. I think it's worth the risk."
Sade loaded another syringe as the moaning waitress jerked off his cock, and then he stuck the needle into her thigh. She winced, setting off delicious twitches in her pussy and ass muscles, enjoyed by Austin and George.
"NOW," demanded Petersen, "WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"
Turk tugged his shaft from the waitress's throat, which was raw and bloody from the action of his penile studs.
"M...my name... is..." croaked the waitress.
"Yes?" demanded Petersen.
"Rachel," sobbed Rachel.
She was now a full person again, not merely a slit or a nameless waitress. Her emotions and physical sensations were properly connected to her conscious mind. She could really suffer like the other prisoners of PORCC.
The gentlemen realised they had a lot of lost time to make up with this cunt.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
Note: Our own dear Rachel kindly gave permission for her name to be used for the character of the waitress. The waitress isn't meant to be her, just a fictional semi-avatar inspired by some aspects of the popular authoress.
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Nothing wrong with "plain old rape", though I'll be most pleased to see how much-abused Carrie and Angela endure further punishment... Not to mention Parminder's next beating...
A merit for continuing this remarkable epic, skuttrusk.
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Parminder's up next! Eventually I want to write the ULTIMATE beating for her.
I also have something special planned for those two truly worthless dumb slabs of cuntmeat, Spunkholes and Cumguzzler (formerly Chloe and Becky).
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Oh my... your storytelling and your imagination are really running wild. Just a big thank you for all your work
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Thanks! Next couple of episodes should be really intense.
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PART THIRTY-TWO
PARMINDER BEGS
(contains extreme violence and rape)
The bathroom door opened.
"Time for your beating, Parminder," said Christian, cheerfully.
Parminder looked up from the cold floor. She was bound hand and foot with a vibrator in her pussy, the outside end duct-taped to her thigh to hold it in position. She hadn't actually orgasmed from it during her three-hour confinement, but she had been unpleasantly on the edge. Added to that the overwhelming stench of shit in this room from the three-quarter-full bathtub of piss and excrement, and she'd had a really uncomfortable time.
Christian untied her ankles, ripped the tape off and slipped the vibrator from her throbbing snatch. Then he "helped" her to her feet by grabbing her long black hair and tugging it savagely. With her arms still bound behind her back, the lithe Asian girl had trouble getting up, resulting in several painfully yanks that threatened to tear her hair out at the roots.
Then she was frog-marched to her own room, the usual site of her regular daily beatings, with Christian Ray giving her an encouraging smack on her delightful rump to move her along more quickly. The bondage had partially cut off circulation and Parminder had real trouble getting her legs to function properly, not helped by her trepidation about the agony that no doubt awaiuted her.
In her former bedroom were George, Turk and Alicia Sweeney, the administrator of PORCC. Parminder couldn't immediately see what implements of violence they were holding, as they had their hands discretely behind their backs, but they were all smiling excitedly. Her stomach sank in terror.
Christian closed the door and picked up a cattle prod from the bed.
"Not strictly an instrument of beating, per se, but appropriate for disciplining the bovine. And I love to see the udders bounce when the shock is applied," he smirked.
Alicia stepped up and stroked Parminder's cheek. Parminder flinched away, but Ray tugged her hair again, sharply, and held her in position to receive the unwelcome caress.
"I've been allowed to sit in on this beating," said Alicia, softly. "I consider it a rare and delicious honour. I'm even allowed to take part."
She produced a leather paddle from behind her back. It was fitted with steel studs, but they were more like needles, long and thin.
"You know the procedure. You'll be given the first half of your beating, but you'll have the chance to defer the second half by talking to us. If we're amused by what you have to say, you'll get off lightly with a cigarette burn, and then you'll service the gentlement sexually. Alright with you, Parminder?"
Parminder glared at her. "You'll do what you like, no matter what I say."
"Let's see, shall we?" said Alicia, and then slapped Parminder hard in the face.
Parminder's face was slightly discoloured with bruising from her previous beatings, and her lips were swollen, but this didn't stop her being damned attractive. The evidence of the violence she'd suffered really made her more exciting to look at.
Anyway, Alicia's slap was the signal. Christian ray released his grip on the girl's hair and pressed the tip of the cattle prod into her ass, delivering a strong shock. Parminder was able to stagger forward, making the delivery of 60,000 volts brief, at least, but unfortunately for her she leaped forward into George's fist , which was coming at her lovely smooth, flat stomach at express-train speed.
OOOF! Parminder stopped in her tracks, doubling up, the wind knocked from her lungs as the huge meaty fist embedded itself in her flesh. Her face turned a deep purple and her eyes watered, but the combination of forward momentum and the impact of the blow prevented her from instantly falling down, which she would have liked to do.
Ray's cattle prod connected with the small of her back and she got another, stronger shock, causing her body to straighten, zombie-stiff, and her long black hairs to separate and lift slightly as the static crackled through them. George had withdrawn his fist so he escaped the shock, but the flail in his other hand, being well-insulted at the handle, was now the perfect instrument to swipe down and to the right, slashing into Parminder's perky tits, the bend nails and broken glass in the leathern tails drawing streaks of blood wherever they connected with soft flesh...
Recovering slightly from the colossal blow to the gut, Parminder now realised that falling to the floor was the best move she could make, and attempted to do so. Unfortunately for her, Ray, standing behind her, had taken hold of the back of her somewhat shopworn lacey panties. As Parminder's knees buckled, the fabric was tugged into a very uncomfortable front-wedgie, digging into the cleft of her much-abused cunt and causing a gasp to escape her swollen lips.
Mr. Ray's other hand held the cattle prod, which he inserted between Parminder's bound arms and her shoulder blades, the cold metal striking her spine. As her body lowered, her arms were yanked painfully back, and she found herself held up by panties and arms, ready to receive more blows...
WHACK! George's flail struck her pert tits again, causing tiny drops of blood to dot George's snarling features and Parminder's tits and throat. The gentlemen had decided to avoid giving George a blunt instrument this time, in case he smashed the slut up too badly, too soon (they had no fundamental objection to shattering the bitch's bones, but not just yet). Still, the hulking brute was able to do considerable damage with his whip, equipped as it was with so many sharp points, and wielded as it was with colossal force.
Turk was the one with the blunt implement this time, basically a baseball bat but with steel studs. With Parminder half-standing, half-dangling before him, it was simple to swing the bat between her legs to give her a brutal blow on the pubic bone, the impact actually audible around the room as a soft THUD. Ray firmly kept Parminder from falling so she could receive more blows.
WHACK! The whip slashed her titties again, making them sway violently to the side and then bounce back into position in a most pleasing way, blood starting to trickle down their gentle slopes. WHACK! Another slash of the flail made them swing in the opposite direction. THUD! A second blow of the bat took her right in the pussy lips, causing a process of swelling to begin that would, within ten minutes, give her once-trim cunt the appearance of a collagen-injected porn star's lower face.
And then RRRIP, as Parminder's legs collapsed completely under her and the flimsy fabric cutting into her swollen cunt ripped, and she crumpled to the floor leaving Christian holding a pathetic rag of lingerie. He shrugged, threw it aside, and prodded his cattle prod between the fallen girl's legs, pushing until the tip disappeared inside her snatch.
ZZZAAPPPP! Parminder jumped and thrashed on the floor like a landed fish, as the gentlemen laughed.
Then George kicked the prone slut, flipping her onto her back, offering up more interesting possibilities. He planted a heavy foot on her chest, between those small, pert, and now bloody tits, and let her have it with the flail right in her exposed cunt. Parminder barely had the strength to curl up as the pain burned through her, and with her upper body pinned to the floor by George's weight, all she managed to do was pull her knees up and together, which allowed Christian to press the prod against her cunt lips as they blulged between her svelte thighs. George withdrew his foot sharply as another colossal shock blasted the frail victim's most sensitive parts.
ZZZAPPP! ZZZZAAAPPPP! ZZZZAAAPPPPPP! Christian held the button down for longer each time, until Parminder, her bronze skin glistening with seat, went completely limp. But her eyes, wide and staring and startlingly white amid her brown face, showed that she was still, tragically, conscious.
Alicia dropped onto one knee, which rammed into Parminder's flat stomach, and with her weieght resting there, began to berate those pretty titties with her spiked paddle. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Each impact drove the needle-sharp spikes into the soft flesh, raising pinpricks of blood in symmetrical patterns. It was beautiful to see. Her arms bound, her strength exhausted, Parminder could only lie there and take her punishment for the pleasure of all.
After twenty hard swats had turned the ripe little tits crimson with spilled blood, Alicia gleefully turned to her subject's tortured twat and gave it the same treatment. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Sharp little pins pricking the bruised labia, the pubic mound, the surrounding thighs and ass cheeks, the clit itself.
When Parminder's cunt was nice and bloody. Geprge and Christian each took and ankle and lifted the slut until just her head and shoulders were trailing on the floor, and they spread her legs wide.
Turk grinned, lifted the bat over his shoulder and swung it down in a terrific arc, thudding into Parminder's defenseless slit like he was hammering in a tent-peg or trying to ring the bell at a carnival.
THOOMP!
Parminder, though utterly exhausted and beaten beyond endurance, screamed. She was still quite conscious, and though lapsing into a coma or death would have seemed a mercy to her, the surgical skill of the attack had not allowed this. She had no option but to simply suffer.
Turked tugged the bat free - the spikes caught on and pulled at Parminder's battered and bloody cunt lips. He swung the bat behind his back and then brought it over his head and down again in another impressive arc - THOOMP! - onto the very same well-deserving target. Parminder's scream was weaker but even more plaintive, even more enjoyable.
And again - the bat blurred through the air and buried itself in the fleshy, swollen, bruised labia, the studs piercing the skin and allowing beautiful little rivulets of blood to snake their way across the brown, inverted belly.
George and Christian dropped her to the floor with a wet slap, then hands grasped at her. She was lifted bodily up by multiple fingers taking harsh, twisting grips on her hair, nipples the flesh of her upper arms, her cheek, her sides...
"Talk to us," said Alicia, pushing her face in very close and smiling. "We will defer the second half of your beating if your talk is entertaining enough."
Parminder's pain-wracked eyes swam into focus.
"Why? Why are you doing this? You're supposed to protect us?"
Alicia yawned in her face. "This is more fun. Simple as that."
"Do you think you'll get away with it? Someone will learn... someone at your organisation..."
"Probably," smiled Alicia. "But it'll be in their interests to cover it up rather than have a scandal. If I'm fired, the payment I'm getting should set me up for life..."
"But can you trust these men?"
Alicia paused. "I'm not sure. They might betray me. They might think it more fun to rape and torture me too, rather than pay me. Although if they play fair, I can keep supplying them with entertainment... pretty little cunts who cried rape and need a good dose of punishment... But, it's true, they might find it more fun to abuse me. But with the things I've seen this week... the WONDERFUL things... even that would be worth it."
Alicia twisted Parminder's nipple savagely, her fingers slipping in the blood.
"Any more questions for me, cunt? I'm not sure you earned a reprieve from your beating with those banal little queries..."
"What is wrong with you?" gasped Parminder. "Don't you have any feelings?"
Alicia licked the blood from her fingers. "Oh, lots. I get very nice feelings, down below, in my pussy, when I see a pretty little bitch like you tortured and raped. Lovely warm feelings..."
"Okay," said Christian. "I'm feeling generous. I'll allow that Parminder's interview was amusing enough to defer the second beating. Now we just have to burn her." He took hold of Parminder's hand and pressed a thumb into her palm wjere Turk had burned her with a cigar. Parminder moaned and her head rolled back as the pain shot through her.
"Where shall it be this time?" he asked.
"There's a certain spot I've been itching to mark up," grinned Turk.
The gentlemen flipped Parminder over the back of a chair so her arse was presented for inspection. Turk knelt before her, puffing his cheroot, and thumbed open her butt cheeks. He puffed until the tip of the cheroot glowed red.
Parminder just hung like a rag, sobbing.
Then she felt the fire strike her anus as Turk ground the cigar into her little pucker. The gentlemen and Alicia crowded round to watch as the cigar was ground out. Then Turk pulled it loose - the hot tip had actually penetrated the sphincter as it scorched it. He blew the ashes away, revealing the red-raw wound.
Parminder's screams and sobbing were quite deafening throughout this, but she had so little strength left in her, they faded rapidly.
Alicia handed him a freshly-lit cigar. "I think once more would be good," she suggested.
The second burn, surprisingly, drew even louder yells from the limp victim, who even managed to thrash and squirm as her rectum was scorched.
Turk wiped away the second lot of ashes and spat on the crimson orifice. That was the only lube Parminder was to receive.
Ass-fucking a girl with a severely burned asshole turned out to be great fun. All three of the gentlemen tried it, and in between rapes Alicia stuck three fingers in to scoop out the cum, clawing the anal lining with her fingernails, and then feeding the goop to Parminder, sometimes sucking it from her own fingers so she could spit it into the Asian bitch's mouth.
They dragged Parminder from the room and let Dr. Sade paint her lacerations with iodine, which of course provoked more wailing, but Parminder no longer had the strength to make much noise. Then Austin, Sade and Petersen, who had been assfucking Rachel (formerly the slit), wanted a turn too.
It was a long evening for both girls.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Mmm. Something about the image of Parminder really makes these scenes sing.
RC isn't allowing me to give a merit right now, for some reason, but I'll make sure you get one as soon as I can.
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Dear Master Skuttrusk,
this was the highlight of the Great Rape-Off up to now !
I'd like to replace Alicia right now ^^
Punishing Parminder's perky tits and juicy cunt with such nice instruments has increased the quality of suffering for our lovely oriental girl.
They should have added the second half of her punishment this time... :emot_thedrool.gif:
But nevertheless : since now I love Turk for his deliberate choice of burning Parminder…
Wonderful Episode. I hope you will extend this Treatment !
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As I loved your latest installment, I don't want to be so ungenerously as Corvid ;D
You've earned my merit !!! :emot_kiss.gif:
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Thanks, Kadira!
Things are going to get much, much worse for Parminder.
Corvid wasn't being ungenerous, it seems the site was.
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Yep. Thankfully, RU seems to have finally restored my meritability.
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PART THIRTY-THREE
SISTER AGAINST SISTER
Contains fairly extreme violence and a bit of gore.
When George, Turk and Christian were tired of ass-raping Parminder, and Sade, Petersen, Basil and Austin were tired of ass-raping Rachel, the gentlemen decided to relax for the evening.
Accordingly, they arranged most of their sluts in a semi-circle in the large Group Therapy Room: Carrie, Bella, Angela, Parminder and Rachel were bound and placed on Sybians: vibrating platforms that stimulated theit clits and pussies with powerful vibration. By binding ankles to thighs, and arms behind backs, the sluts were trussed so that they could not prevent their weight from resting on their hot, sore little cunts, receiving the full force of the vibes. Each of the sluts wore a ball gag and nipple clamps.
Then the gentlemen turned their attention to Becky and Chloe, or Cumguzzler and Spunkholes to give them their newer, truer names.
"We're going to have a little entertainment," said Basil. He was holding two flails, cat o' nine tails whips with fish-hooks attached to the end of each flail. "You two bitches are going to fight for us."
"No!" cried Spunkholes. "I won't hurt my sister."
"Neither will I," insisted Cumguzzler. "I hurt Spunkholes once, and it nearly destroyed my mind. I will never hurt her again, no matter what."
Neither slut had realized that they had been hypnotized into referring to one another by their new names, so each time one of them did so, the other looked amusing puzzled and hurt. "Becky" frowned as "Chloe" called her Spunkholes.
Basil smiled and nodded. George took hold of Spunkholes from behind, pinning her arms.
Turk swiftly approached and both sisters squealed when they saw the tin-snips in his hand. He took Cumguzzler's hand, placed her little finger between the blades, and SNIPPED.
Becky/Cumguzzler's pinkie fell to the floor, neatly severed.
The hapless girl screamed.
"Pick it up!" screamed Spunkholes when she got over the initial shock. "Freeze it! it can be sewn back on!"
Austin picked up the severed digit. Then he approached Bella, quivering like jelly on her Sybian, and jammed the bloody finger up her exposed asshole. Becky gasped. Then Austin squirted a tube of Superglue into Bella's asshole.
"That should hold for a couple of days. You're going to have a nasty case of constipation, cunt," he said. "By which time I don't think there will be any question of salvaging or reattaching that finger."
The gentlemen laughed, and nobody laughed harder than Alicia.
Basil puffed on a cigar, then pressed the glowing tip to Cumguzzler's bloody little stump, cauterizing the wound. The cunt screamed again.
Then Basil pressed a flail into her wounded hand, and gave the other one to Spunkholes.
Christian dragged Spunkholes to the far side of the room by her hair and whispered sharply in her ear.
"You two are going to fight. If you lose, we will punish your useless slut of a sister. She can spend tomorrow in the Raping Machine. Given the parlous state of her cunt and asshole, it's not certain she'd survive that, and she'd certainly never shit right again. So you and she are going to fight and you'd better beat her to the floor. If she stays down for ten seconds, we'll consider you the victor. Then you can suck us off - all our cocks are stinky from Rachel and Parminder's assholes so you'll get some nice flavour there. If you refuse to fight, of course we'll have to snip a few more bits off her until you change your so-called mind. Some more fingers, maybe toes, maybe an earlobe or a nipple..."
Spunkholes had turned stark white and was shaking her head mutely back and forth.
"I'll fight her, I'll fight her, please don't hurt her..."
Spunkholes was now very motivated to win. She felt that if she attacked Cumguzzler hard and fast, she could take her down quickly without hurting her too badly.
Meanwhile, though, Basil was talking to Cumguzzler. "If you beat your slut sister, we'll let you both off lightly. You can suck our cocks for the rest of the evening. If you refuse to fight, we'll take the snips to her. See how she looks with her lips and nose cut off. If she beats you, we'll put her in the raping machine only we'll use cattle prods for dildos and shock her till her tiny little brain is fried."
"Okay, okay," wept Cumguzzler. "I'll fight her, I'll beat her."
She felt the heavy weight of the whip in her hand, and the throbbing of the pain from her severed finger.
The girls advanced on one another, as the men sat in their chairs to enjoy the show. Christian and Austin armed themselves with cattle prods to maintain order, and Turk made rhtyhmic snipping sounds with his shears to remind the hapless cunts of the fate awaiting them if they didn't put on a good show.
Determined to end the fight as quickly as she could, Cumguzzler launched herself at her sister and swung the flail at Spunkholes' titties.
THWACK! The weapon hit home, setting off rippling jiggles in Cumguzzler's left tit. But four of the the barbed hooks promptly embedded themselves in the quivering flesh. Cumguzzler tugged at the whip in an effort to tear it free, but succeeded only in provoking a yelp of pain from her suffering sister.
Cumguzzler retaliated as soon as she got over the shock and pain, swinging her whip at close quarters, so it wrapped around Spunkholes' flanks. To her surprise, this whip also became caught, six of the little hooks piercing Spunkholes' butt-cheek and refusing to tear loose. Each of the girls tugged and yanked at the flails, yelping and sobbing at each painful tug. Blood trickled from their little wounds as the movement of the hooks made the punctures bigger.
Yanking painfully at the embedded barbs and getting nowhere, the girls were forced to change tactics, and it was Cumguzzler who made the decisive choice, stepping in and slamming her knee up into her sister's cunt. Spunkholes' pussy being more tender than usual as a result of all the raping she'd endured, this was even more painful than it might have been, and the slut doubled up, her face sinking into her sister's ample bosom, which was slick with sweat and blood. Trying desperately to make Spunkholes fall down, Cumguzzler repeated the move, her kneecap smashing into Spunkholes' mons veneris again and again.
Spunkholes screamed into her sister's smothering cleavage, then sank her teeth into the nearest pillow of flesh, biting and tearing. Cumguzzler squealed in pain, and began kneeing her sister's cunt even more rapidly and desperately. As sharp little teeth broke the skin of her tit, blood coursed out and filled Spunkholes' slut mouth.
Cumguzzler then pushed Spunkholes violently away from her, the teeth teating free of her titty. As Spunkholes staggered back. the flail drew taut and the barbs in her ass spun her around so her back was to her sister. Cumguzzler took the oppertunity to kick her in the small of the back and with an audible RIP the hooks tore loose from the hapless girl's buttock in a welter of blood which splashed down the shapely ass in a most stimulating manner.
Spunkholes went staggering forward, letting go her whip, which now hung from Cumguzzler's bloody tit. Spunkholes then crashed into Angela, bound on her knees, big tits slapping into the petite Irish redhead's alarmed face.
As Spunkholes struggled to regain her balance, her wounded and upthrust ass made an irresistible target, and Cumguzzler pressed her advantage by slashing her whip downwards onto the uninjured ass cheek. WHACK! All eight hooks instantly sank into the soft flesh and became stuck. Spunkholes yelped and wept, and yanked at Angela's russet locks as she righted herself.
Cumguzzler abandoned the whip that now seemed permanently attached to her sister's ass, like a leather tail, and managed to pick loose several of the fishhooks stuck in her wobbling udder. She hope to free this whip and be able to use it to further beat her sister.
Spunkholes, lacking any weapon, simply stepped forward and punched Cumguzzler in the face, her bony knuckles smushing the girl's fleshy lips all over her teeth. Blood dripped onto the already-gored slopes of Cumguzzler's big tits.
While Cumguzzler was sobbing and clutching her pretty face, Spunkholes snatched the whip from her hand and gave it a sharp tug. Since now only two hooks were left piercing the skin of Cumguzzler's bosom, these ripped free, leaving long, deep slashes in the jiggling tit-meat, and Spunkholes stepped back, one whip in her hand, the other trailing from her bare ass.
With Cumguzzler still holding her injured mouth, feeling loosened teeth and flowing blood and swelling lips, her face was protected and her huge jugs somewhat covered by her upraised arms, so Spunkholes targented the most vulnerable spot, slashing the flail upwards between her sister's curvaceous thighs to catch her squarely on the cunt.
Poor Cumguzzler's cunt, which had been raped and brutalized, along with her asshole, into a state of complete dysfunction, now received a devastating blow from multiple sharp implements. Hooks pierced her labia, inner and outer, her inner thighs, and her clitoral hood, which had already been reduced by Dr Sade's surgery to leave her clit perpetually semi-exposed. Her wounded clit itself received a glancing blow from a sharp point, but luckily for the voluptuous teenage fuckslut, the hook did not actually snag in the tissue of her clitoris. Blood was drawn, however, though it blended so much with that spurting or trickling from many other wounds, that nobody else would have noticed it.
Spunkholes was somewhat horrified by what she had done, but felt she couldn't afford to stop beating her sister until she fell to the floor. However, she was well aware that by ripping the whip free now that it was hooked into Cumguzzler's flaps, she could cause permanent damage. She opted to keep a grip on the whip handle, pulling Cumguzzler towards her, and wade in with her free hand, punching her victim in the stomach, then, when Cumguzzler clutched her gut, letting her have it in the face.
POW! The first blow would result in a Technicolor black eye. SOCK! The second blow cracked Cumguzzler's nose and released a flow of blood over her upper lip, joining the welter from her bloody mouth. WHACK! A blow to the jaw spun Cumguzzler's head to the side, and then WHUMP! WHUMP! Spunkholes rained blows upon those splendid, blood-spattered titties, which bounced merrily under the succession of bruising blows.
Defenceless and dazed, Cumguzzler collapsed forward and flung her arms around Spunkholes, pinning her arms. But then she kept decending, blood-slicked boobs sliding down her sister's stomach as she dropped to her knees. Keeping her arms around Spunkholes' thighs, she tugged this way and that until she unbalanced her captive and Spunkholes fell on her shapely ass, ramming the trapped fishhooks deeper into her derriere.
"OW!" she wailed.
And then the two naked cunts proceeded to wrestle ineffectually, their succulent young bodies becoming smeared all over in crimson fluid from their many slahes and piercings. Neither one could keep a grip on the others' squelchy, bulging, dripping body. Big boobs and butt-cheeks slid and bulged free from grasping hands and snaking arms and legs. The slathering, slapping sound of wet skin on wet skin filled the room along with their grunts and cries of pain as each sought some elusive advantage. Two equally-matched bimbo fucksluts trying to defeat one another, each imaginging it was for the others' own good. Hurting each other out of love.
No wonder the gentlemen, and Alicia, found it all so hilarious.
As the messy, sticky grappling yielded no particular results other than pornographic views as one slut or another stuck her ass up in the air or was splayed out on her back, legs wide, the battling bitches began hurting one another more nastily in an effort to secure an advantage:
Spunkholes pinned Cumguzzler's wrist against the floor and then slammed her fist down on the wounded hand, hitting the little severed finger stump until it bled anew.
Cumguzzler grabbed Spunkholes by the long brunette locks and yanked and tugged until she was able to straddle her sister, bare cunt resting on bare belly, hooks pressed deeper into her pussy, but able to bang Spunkholes' head off the floor, yearing out clumps of hair in the process of inflicting concussion on what there was of the big-titted bimbo's brain.
Spunkholes reached up and grabbed Cumguzzler's nipples, digging her nails in and twisting until she drew blood and inflicted bruises.
Feeling her nipples were about to come off, Spunkholes seized Cumguzzler's wrists and pinned them to the floor, but this made her big tits dangle in Cumguzzler's face, enabling her to bite them. Further bloody nipple injury followed.
Prying Cumguzzler's jaws open, Spunkholes got her tits free, but then received a nasty bite on both thumbs. Repositioning herself, she drove her knee into Cumguzzler's soft, flat stomach, and made her release the thumbs with a grunt.
Then, feeling she really had to do something decisive, she punched Cumguzzler in the colostomy, the little opening on her side where her asshole had been relieved of duties. Cumguzzler wailed and lost her grip.
Spunkholes started to stagger to her feet, feeling she could pin down her sister and bring the contest to an end. Desperate to prevent this, Cumguzzler grasped for a weapon, and took hold of a whip handle lying beside her. If she could pull on the flails sticking in her sister's butt she could stop her from standing up and give her a nasty pain in the ass. She yanked the handle back above her head -
And screamed, having taken hold of the wrong whip. She'd just ripped the hooks out of her own cunt-lips.
Clutching her copiously bleeding snatch, Cumguzzler rolled onto her side in a ball.
Looking down aghast, Spunkholes managed to think the situation through and realized this was her chance to win, and save her sister from further injury, so she quickly sat on Cumguzzler's head, pinning her to the floor despite the pain this caused her - the hooks stuck in her ass dug in agonizingly.
Basil began to count to ten in a leisurely manner, as it became clear that Spunkholes had won, or that, rather, Cumguzzler had defeated herself with her silly mistake. Typical bimbo stupidity!
Cumguzzler wept beneath her sister's crushing ass, not just because of the excrutiating pain in her cunt and all over her body, but because she had been defeated and that meant her poor sister would face a terrible punishment. It was all her fault! She believed Spunkholes was going to be strapped into the raping machine and fucked in her cunt and asshole with cattle prods, shocking her until she was a brain dead fuck-zombie.
Spunkholes, on the other hand, was elated. She was in terrible pain too, bleeding from deep gashes in the ass and bruised and scratched and bitten all over. And she felt, on the one hand, terrible about her sister's injuries: Cumguzzler had lacerations to the tits and cunt, and her face had been savagely beaten. But Spunkholes believed that by beating her this way, she had saved her sister from a full day bound in the Raping Machine, which would probably have killed her.
Cumguzzler, of course, was right to believe that her sister was in trouble. Spunkholes, of course, was a stupid whore to believe that she had spared her sister any suffering at all.
"Ten," said Basil, and Dr. Sade stepped in to administer first aid. He took pleasure in sewing up the sluts' wounds without the aid of anaestehtic, his long, curving needle piercing tits and ass and labia as he repaired the horrible wounds created by the flails. Spunkholes had such deep cuts in both her ass-cheeks that Sade resorted to glueing them together, using the same superglue Bella's anus had been sealed with.
"Right, to the Raping Machines!" declared Christian.
"B-b-but..." stammered Cumguzzler, idiotically. Spunkholes didn't say anything: her brain was broken, and she'd gone mute again.
Although, as the gentlemen would discover, she could still whimper in a pitiful sort of way...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Make the bitch scream, hearties,
Make the bitch scream,
Way, hey, make the bitch scream
If one man won't do it
We'll send in a team
Give us some time, we'll make the bitch scream...
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A catchy little number!
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This episode contains brutality and talk of snuff. Also a particularly gruesome idea suggested by Corvid. Blame him!
PART THIRTY-FOUR
A RAPING MACHINE BUILT FOR TWO
Cumguzzler and Spunkholes were dragged through to the Raping Machine. A party spirit prevailed among the gentlemen, though it must be admitted that the centrepieces of the entertainment were not so boyant in mood, and when they saw the instrument of torture they expressed deep distress.
"Oh shut up, you sniveling sluts," snapped Alicia, slapping each of their silly faces.
The Raping Machine had been modified to take two. An array of straps and restraints was attached to four cattle-prod dildos mounted on the super-charged fucking machine engine. Basil and Turk set about binding the victims at once, their sore bodies still slippery with blood from their beatings.
Spunkholes, newly mute, was placed on the bed face up, her legs bound securely, bent upwards to present cunt and asshole for abuse. The heads of the cattle-prod dildos were positioned at her tender entrances, with no lube applied: the Raping Machine could achieve deep, brutal penetration without the aid of lubricant.
With Spunkholes' limbs trussed tightly, Cumguzzler was thrown on top of her, the four big tits slapping and squishing together amusingly. Cumguzzler's legs were spread and fastened, and two more torture dildos were aimed at her severely wounded opening.
"I'm going to set it to the lowest setting," said Dr. Sade. "Cumguzzler is unlikely to survive this experience, and I don't see any reason to finish her off quickly. A nice slow double-penetration rape to kill her over the course of the night... or, if necessary, over the course of tomorrow."
Spunkholes began sobbing wretchedly at these words, which just made her tits rise and fall in a spectacular and stimulating way, to the amusement of her audience.
Alicia was nervous. She hadn't signed up for murder... however, she had to admit, the thought was an erotic one. The idea of one sister being tied up at such close quarters, naked body to body, as the other sister was agonizingly raped to death was delicious. And, supposed Alicia, it could always be claimed that death was accidental. Who knew the little cunt's guts would finally give out? Yes, it was legally quite safe, considering the high status of gentlemen such as Christian and Basil, and the accepted worthlessness of the two teenage fuckpuppets.
A switch was thrown... the fun began...
Both girls moaned in pain as the dildo/cattle prods began rhythmically pushing at their holes, a little harder and deeper each time, until each shaft was pushing pas the muscular resistance and penetrating a few inches,,, then a few inches deeper...
"Hold on, Spunkholes..." moaned "Cumguzzler, squirming moistly on top of her "We can,,, uhn,,, survive this... I'll [ow] be alright..."
Spunkholes replied with a pitiful groad.
Austin unzipped.
"Going to throat fuck a slut,Austin?" asked Alicia.
"No, I had another fuckhole in mind," said the little man, and aimed his cock at the colostomy opening in Cumguzzler;s side. The tethered bitch's eyes turned to him wide with horror as he pressed his dick against the surgical opening and with a sort of squelch, attained penetration.
Cumguzzler gave a strangled cry as he raped her in the gut.
"So... fuckin'... tight..." grinned Austin Creasy as he pumped his dick in and out of the wound.
Spunkholes was staring into her sister's eyes with horror and pity. Their moist bodies, slick and sticky with sweat and blood, rubbed together as the Raping Machine ruined them and Austin deposited a considerable quantity of slime into Cumguzzler's opening.
"Looks like fun," said Turk, stepping forward with his still-studded prong stiffly pointing. Cumguzzler shook her head in terror, apparently as mute as her slut sister. The gentlemen laughed.
Of course, Turk's weapon, being not only larger than Austin's but decorated with those steel spikes, did a lot more damage than Austin's had.
*
"Fucking me ragged," breathed Nisha, watching on the big, bright screen in Suki's office at FUX TV.
"My thoughts exactly," smirked Suki, pressing a buzzer. A door slid open and two naked cunts entered.
"I think we might want some entertainment while we watch," the Chinese-English TV exec said.
The first girl, a tall, slim redhead, stopped in front of Suki. "What can I do for you, mistress?" she asked in a soft Scottish accent, her submissive words tinged with defiance.
Nisha looked over and saw that the girl's smooth, slim bottom was viciously wealed with whip-marks, which in fact traveled down her thighs and up her back to her shoulders. Breaking her spirit had evidently required considerable force.
"On your knees, cunt," said Suki with a grin, spreading her lithe thighs over the arms of her executive chair and hitching up her smart mini-dress. "Pull my panties aside and tongue-fuck me," she demanded, before turning to Nisha. "This is Karen G-. She appears on Doctor Whore, our top family sci-fi show. She was a little reluctant to do some of the more... explicit scenes. She particularly didn't want to have her bowels filled with Cyberman spunk... well, it was actually donkey semen... and then suck it out through a tube. But she's under one of our special contracts: we can do what we like to her, can't we, bitch?"
"Yes, mistress...ummm...you can do what you...umm...like to me..." said Karen, between licks.
"I know you hate licking pussy," said Suki with a tinkling laugh, "But show a little more enthusiasm or next time we'll whip your front side. Those tiny titties would look pretty with some stripes..."
"Yes mistress... ummm.... sorry mistress...umm ummm..." moaned Karen, lapping faster at thewet slit.
A dead-eyed teenager named Candy Simple, who had recently been hypnotized and raped multiple times on live TV at Suki's behest, was standing in front of Nisha, waiting patiently as the Indian policewoman stripped off her trousers. Nisha got naked and spread her legs like Suki had, and the damaged teen silently knelt on the cold floor and extended her tongue.
Nisha slid her palm in front of her exposed pussy. "Just the asshole, babycakes. I'll take care of my kitty myself."
As the wretched schoolgirl began tongueing Nisha's taut pucker, and she slid two fingers into her hot snatch, they turned their attention back to the screen. Nisha idly wondered how many laws she was breaking right now.
"Do you think Becky's going to be snuffed?" asked Suki, using Cumguzzler's original name. "I do hope so!"
"I think... [oooh that feels nice]... maybe neither one of the sluts will survive this," said Nisha, thoughtfully. She wasn't usually turned on by murder (rape was another matter, and quite a delicious one) but then, she wasn't usually confronted with a pair of succulent, big-titted white bimbos being fucked to death before her eyes. "If they leave them in that machine... if they turn the power up... and they haven't even started using those cattle prodes for the purpose God intended..."
"They're certainly using the sluts, though," laughed Suki. "It'd be a shame to lose Chloe too. I quite like the thought of having her raped throughout her bereavement. Those big blue eyes filled with tears..." she laughed.
"I don't know how you're going to be able to broadcast any of this," marveled Nisha as Candy's tongue pressed into her anus.
"That's why it's not going out live," said Suki, taking fistful's of Karen G-'s hair and pressing the girl's face into her grinding twat. "We have to make sure we can handle all the legal questions. "So far, it's fine. We can manufacture a little 'microphone failure' when Dr. Sade is discussing Becky's survival chances. That way, if the cunt does die, it's just an unfortunate accident caused by overenthusiastic play. More her fault than anyone else's. At least, that's what the enquiry would rule. I have a lot of pull on the board." Suki looked over at Nisha. "Mmm, that looks nice." She smacked Karen on the head. "Eat my ass, you Scottish skank."
Karen grimaced, but then went about the task diligently, circling Suki's light-brown opening with her pink tongue...
*
"Perfect," Christian was saying, admiring the red, spunk-oozing ruin of Cumguzzler's colostomy. "Juice on!"
Alicia got to do the honours. Flicking the switch felt like turning on the Christmas lights.
ZZZZAAPPPPPP! all four cattle prods raping Becky/Cumguzzler and Chloe/Spunkholes discharged their vicious voltage at once. The sluts' hair stood on end. It was hilarious.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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I protest my innocence. I clearly cannot be blamed that the setting and characters lead me to diabolical inspirations... >:D
Most pleased to see the saga continue, skuttrusk. A merit happily given.
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Hopefully the next episodes will lead to a few more such inspirations... things are going to get very nasty very soon...
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PART THIRTY-FIVE
A LONG, DARK NIGHT OF THE HOLES
The gentlemen turned in, mostly. They had decided to keep raping Rachel in shifts, all night, so they set their alarm clocks accordingly. While most of the men slept one would always be with Rachel, fucking her cunt, ass or mouth (her tits were barely adequate for titty-fucking, but a satisfying size to bite, pinch, slap or punch), with handover periods in which the slut would have to service two gentlemen at once.
Before turning in, Basil nipped outside to the lawn and placed a kind of small blue tent over the airhole that was keeping Mollie alive in her subterranean coffin. It wouldn't stop the air getting in, this tent, but it would filter out the daylight. Basil intended to leave the unfortunate teenager a full day and night without food, and by blocking out the sunlight he would deprive her of the little sense of time she had. When he restored communication she would feel that she had had a very long night, rather than two nights and a day. Her distress and trauma would be significantly increased. It made him chuckle.
Before the remaining cunts were put to bed, they were fed some nutricious mush, except Carrie, who was fed human faeces as usual. Since she needed a little food along with it, she was given a literal shit sandwich to eat, while the others, Bella, Parminder and Angela, under the influence of their post-hypnotic commands, laughed at her.
Then the cunts were taken to the bathroom to piss and shit in the tub, and of course Carrie had to lick their assholes clean, except for Bella's since it was glued tight. Bella was already beginning to experience uncomfortable bloating and consitipation due to her superglued sphincter.
Alicia went home, reluctantly - she hated the thought of maybe missing some of the fun. But it was her task to bring in supplies in the morning.
Since Carrie was still suffering the effects of the raping machine - bleeding from the pussy and asshole, who knows what internal damage - they showed a rare bit of mercy by binding her to a sybian for the night. It would be nigh-on impossible for her to sleep in a kneeling position with constant vibration tormenting her twat, but at least she wasn't being penetrated. Angela and Parminder got dildos in each hole. Angela's anal intruder was coated in hot sauce, while Parminder got a spicy one in her cunt. She had to spend the night on her feet with her head in a noose. Angela, who couldn't stand due to the surgical torture hobbling her feet, was hung by the ankles in a 69 position with Parminder.
Still, Spunkholes Chloe and Cumgulper Becky had the worst night, bound together in the raping machine, recieving painful electric shocks at random intervals while the prods pounded their fuckholes. Even on the lowest setting, the machine was sheer torture. Before going to bed, Dr Petersen attached a dildo gag to Cumgulper's face and whispered a few posthypnotic words in her ear. As a result, she found herself unable to prevent herselve from throat-raping her dying sister with the big dildo strapped to her mouth.
There was little doubt that Cumgulper was dying. Her holes had been brutally torn apart and were being assaulted again, in an extremely protracted manner. She would be fucked to death and would die lying naked atop her equally nude sister, who was raping her throat, making her gag and choke. It was simply marvelous. Each of the gentlemen, before and after abusing Rachel, would drop in on the girls before going to sleep, eager to see if one or both of them had snuffed it, or come close.
But, strangely enough, Cumgulper survived the night. Well, actually, her heart stopped a few times, but was always shocked back into beating again by the cattle prods thrursting so ruinously into her cunt and asshole. True, she lost a few more brain cells during her periods of deathly coma, and true, each time Spunkholes sensed what had happened and became terribly distraught. But could not stop ramming her sister's slack, drooling mouth...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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PART THIRTY-SIX
HYPNOTIC REGRESSION
Warning: contains extreme don't-try-this-at-home torture, a little scat at the start, some playful age references (but I leave it to you to decide on Carrie's age at the time of the incidents) and of course lots of nice rape. Thanks to Tars Tarkas for the excellent suggestion which comes into play at the end, with accompanying YouTube tutorial.
In the morning, Basil was first up as usual. He untied Carrie and led her to the bathroom. He added his waste products to the bath, which was now half full of sickening filth, and he had Carrie clean him up afterwards with her tongue. Then he chained her to the toilet and left her in the stinking room as he went to check on Cumgulper and Spunkholes.
He was surprised but not really disappointed to find both sluts alive. It just meant that they could be made to suffer still more. He left them in the Raping Machine for the time being, actually turning it up to the much more painful "medium" setting, and increasing the wattage of the cattle prods which were acting as dildos upon each sister's cunt and asshole.
Alicia arrived with breakfast. Bella was given the job of warming up the nutricious mush for the sluts' meal. Alicia was invited to defecate into a bap, which was to serve as Carrie's humble repast.
Each of the sluts was now dragged through to the bathroom to empty her bladder and bowels and to be licked clean by a tearful Carrie, who amusingly could never get used to this shameful and nauseating duty. Bella was still glued tight, her shit-hole straining against the superglue that had been squirted into it, but she peed into the bath and Carrie dutifully tongued her snatch afterwards. Carrie herself wasn't allowed to void her bowels until all the sluts and all the gentlemen who wanted to had used the bathtub and her mouth. Parminder was given the job of tongue-bathing her vagina and anus afterwards. Both holes were still bleeding occasionally from her stint in the Raping Machine. Even Dr. Sade has no idea how much internal damage she might have suffered from that prolonged, merciless cunt-and-asshole pounding.
After breakfast, which it's safe to say Carrie did NOT relish, she was again made the centrepiece of the ongoing entertainment. Dr. Petersen had decided to put her into a hypnotic trance, to see, as he put it, "if we can learn from the slut's history what makes her such a pathetic, hapless cunt." Dr. Sade, Christian, Basil and especially Alicia all thought this would be a fascinating line of inquiry. Even Angela felt privately that this was a matter someone should have seriously looked into a long time ago.
The gentlemen sat around in armchairs, Alicia perching on the arm of Christian's chair. Angela, Bella, Rachel and Parminder were forced to kneel before the men and suck their cocks and wank them off...
Carrie stood in the centre of the room, nude. Dr. Petersen's hypnotic commands forced her to obey all his commands, but left her entirely self-aware, so she was mortified when Petersen said, "Play with your cunt, Carrie." But she obeyed.
Her fingers stroked her sore and swollen labia. "It's v-very sore.." she whimpered.
"Good," smirked Petersen. "Keep rubbing it. And tell us about the first time you were raped."
"Oh God... well, it was my ***teenth birthday. I was coming home from school. Some boys jumped me at the garden gate. They bent me over it, and lifted my skirt... pulled my p-panties down... and I felt something pushing against my... my p-pussy... They were laughing. One of them said 'Shove it in hard,' and a girl's voice said 'Make the little cunt squeal.' And then I felt this terrible pain and something just RIPPED into me..."
Carrie's fingers were rubbing furiously at her hot, red little twat now.
"They swung the gate open, with that big thing still shoved inside me, and one of them had his, um, his cock out, and he shoved it into my mouth. I just started sucking, I didn't know what else to do..."
"Slut," murmured Alicia.
"They swung the gate to and from, so I was getting the two, um, erections, sliding in and out at each end... in my mouth and pussy..."
"Had you sucked dick before?" asked Petersen.
"Oh yes. I'd first been made to do it a couple of years before. By then, I guess I'd sucked off all the boys in my school, those who were big enough to force me. And all the male teachers, too."
"What a fucking whore," smirked Alicia.
"They forced you? You don't count that as rape/" asked Petersen.
Carrie frowned. "Well, I was never really sure... whether that counted or not. But I must have been forced to suck hundreds of cocks before my first, uh, proper rape."
"Did you swallow?"
"Oh yes. They made it very clear that was expected of me, and I'd get a good beating if I didn't gulp it all down. The first time I got the beating, and from then on I was good. I swallowed everything and licked them clean until they were shiny. But this time... over the garden gate, I mean... the pain was so great I just choked and gagged and then eventually the cum went all over my face. That's when I looked up and..." Carrie fell silent, biting her lip.
"Go on, cunt. What happened?"
"I s-saw my d-dad. He was standing at the upstairs window, looking down at me. He was... s-smiling. I tried to cry out to him. I thought, He doesn't understand what's happening. And then another cock was shoved into my mouth. And then I saw..."
"Go on, cunt! If you keep heistating we will have to punish you."
"I s-saw d-daddy w-wanking his c-cock as he watched me get raped."
Carrie burst into tears.
Everyone else, of course, burst into hysterical laughter. Well, not the other four sluts, who were too busy gobbing off the gentlemen.
Petersen wiped a tear from his eye when he was finished laughing. "Okay, keep rubbing your clit. You're getting very turned on, by the way. Painfully so. But you can't cum without my permission. So tell us, cunt, when did you first take it up the ass?"
"Oh..." said Carrie. "That was a few months later. I'd been raped a great many times since then. And Mr. Ravisham, the school headmaster, happened to find me behind the bike sheds, being raped by three boys. They had me on the ground. They'd stripped off my school uniform except for my shoes and socks. One was in my pussy, and he had my legs up, ankles around his head. He was pounding me really hard. One was in my mouth, forcing me to suck him. And one was... oh, this is SO embarrassing..."
"Speak, cunt!"
"He was giving me a... I suppose you'd say a titty-fuck..."
The gentlemen laughed heartily.
"I was quite well-developed at ***teen, and he was able to, you know, push them together... in fact, he gripped them by the nipples, very hard, and pulled them together. He spat into my cleavage, and then he... well, he raped my breasts. But then Mr. Ravisham caught us. He was furious. He said, 'This is the most disgusting display I've ever seen.' And so of course the boys blamed me. 'The slut seduced us, sir!' one of them said. Mr. Ravisham then said something odd. 'I'm surprised one of you isn't taking her anally. This is such a depraved spectacle, I shouldn't have thought you'd have balked at even that.' And the ringleader of the boys said, 'We tried to, but she's too tight, sir.' Which was true. 'My office, at once!' said Mr. Ravisham."
The gentlemen were listening avidly. Austin, Basil, George and Turk had their hands on Bella, Parminder, Angela and Rachel's heads, forcing them to bob up and down on their phalluses.
"I asked if I could get dressed, but Mr. Ravisham said no. The boys scooped up my school uniform and I never saw it again. I used to get through ten uniforms a month, and oh! the spankings I got at home every time I came home naked or with my blouse in shreds. So anyway, I had to cross the playground naked, with everyone laughing and pointing. The photography club took pictures. VERY humiliating. But not half as bad as what followed.
"We got to the headmaster's office, and I had thought he was going to chastise the boys, but no. First, he had them hold my arms and legs while he caned me. Twelve strokes on my bare bottom. Very painful indeed, and the worst part is I could see Johnny Rogers, who had hold of my wrists, grinning at me the whole time, like he was really enjoying the show.
"But then, Mr. Ravisham said he was going to give the boys a class in sex education. How to have anal sex with an unwilling girl. He produced a jar of vaseline and said 'As you get more adept, you may be able to use just spit, which will be much more painful for your victim as it is swiftly absorbed by the anal lining. But since this is Carrie's first time and you are all novices at this, we'll use just a little dab of this.' And I felt him smear a little cold, greasy stuff on my anus. Then he demonstrated his technique. He was... quite large."
The gentlemen and Alicia laughed furiously.
"So it hurt a lot. And then he let the three boys have their turn with me. So I got anally raped four times. Then they tied me up and Mr. Ravisham let them cane me. Not just on my bottom, but on my breasts and, uh, pussy too. And then they raped me some more. Triple penetration, changing places every five minutes. So it was also my introduction to, I suppose you'd say, ass-to-mouth? And of course I had to walk home naked and of course that meant quite a few of the neighbours raped me before I got in, and then of course I got a spanking for losing my uniform."
The gentlemen would have been rolling on the floor laughing by then, if they hadn't been so busy skull-fucking their four cum-receptacles.
"I'd like to know when Carrie was first forced to eat pussy," said Alicia.
"How about it, cunt?" said Dr. Petersen.
"Ohhhh... can I cum first?" begged Carrie. "Pleeeaase??"
"Maybe after," said Petersen with a cynical grin. No way on earth was he going to let this whore have the satisfaction.
"Oh God," murmured Carrie, fingers still vigorously rubbing her achine slit and tweaking her clit. "Well, let me see... I had just turned *****teen, I think. It was a girl in my French class..."
Austin tittered.
"Well, really it was two boys. I mean, they forced us to... she didn't want to either. Her name was Veronica, or Ronnie. A very slim, tomboyish girl. But not gay, I don't think. Anyway, she cried when they made us... eat each other out. Although maybe that was partly because they shoved jalapeno peppers inside us and made us.... literally eat them out." Carrie paused and blinked earnestly. "Those are very hot peppers, you know. It did mean that the boys left our pussies alone... but that of course meant they raped us anally. In fact, poor Veronica has forced to take two at a time... in her bottom. I didn't suffer THAT particular fate until much later. She had to go into hospital, poor thing. But that was after Mr. Ravisham caught and caned us both... on the pussy.
"Poor Veronica had a breakdown after that and didn't come back to our school... which meant I got twice as much abuse as before..."
"Alright, Carrie," said Dr. Petersen. "That's enough golden memories for now."
"Can I... can I cum now?" asked Carrie, eagerly. Her poor pussy felt like it had jalapenos inside it again.
"We'll see. First I want you to stuff this inside yourself," said Petersen, as Dr. Sade handed him a wad of steel wool."
"Oh" said Carrie, staring at it. "Okay." The hypnosis was really holding up wonderfully.
Carrie took the grey metallic substance and began to force it into her pussy. It was quite difficult, even though she was sopping wet.
"Ow. Oh, it scratches... it's really quite uncomfortable," moaned Carrie.
"Tough titty," sneered Alicia.
"Here, force it in deep, said Dr, Petersen, handing Carrie a spoon. She took the utensil and began to gingerly push the rasping material deeper into her snatch.
"Come on, ram it in there," said Petersen. Carrie worked harder and faster, tears rolling down her eyes. "You have to make room for this," said Petersen, handing her another wad of the same substance.
Tearfully, Carrie jammed the second lot of steel wool into her bulging cunny. She had given up any despire to orgasm, and just wanted the suffering to stop.
"And now this one," said Petersen, producing a third roll of itchy grey. "Up your asshole."
It was really quite difficult for Carrie to get this additional payload into her unlubricated ass, even using the spoin to force it in, but finally she managed, so there were only a few tufts of matte material protruding from each of her fuckholes.
"Okay, let's tie her down," said Turk. There was a general feeling that, no matter how hypnotised she might be, Carrie would need restraints for this next part. So they lay her on her back on the coffee table and tied her elbows and ankles to the legs. They shoved a cock gag in her mouth (the word "gag" had a double application).
Alicia dimmed the lights.
Then Turk placed a battery next to the steel wool and this is what happened:
It was very festive! The dancing flames lit up the room. The other whores were allowed to stop sucking and watch, as Carrie's body bucked and writhed, her tits jouncing merrily as her cunt and asshole smoldered.
"It smells like frying bacon!" declared Alicia with delight, and the gentlement all laughed.
Black smoke whorled into the air from Carrie's cremated cunt...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
A quick web search tells me that steel wool burns at a temperature of 700 C.
...So...
...OUCH...
-
One of advantage of Carrie, which I like to take advantage of (or should that be WHOM?) is that she can withstand a lot more than a real girl. She suffers just as much, but no real permanent harm comes to her, physically, at least. Mentally, she doesn't seem to retain a lot either, protected by her bimbohood.
-
PART THIRTY-SEVEN
BELLA'S BACKSTORY
With this and the previous episodes, I'm flashing back to nostalgic scenes when all the sluts had to worry about was a bit of rape and maybe a beating, so the tone is a bit more light-hearted. But each installment ends with something really nasty. So here we have rape upon rape, mostly anal, but with a foul-tasting surprise at the end...
*
When it was all over, and Carrie lay draped semi-conscious over the coffee table, smoke curling from her blackened cunt, Dr. Sade assessed the damage.
"Given that steel wool burns at 700 degrees, I'd say this whore is in urgent need of medical assistance."
"Is she going to get it?" asked Alicia, looking at the damage with a little concern. Those parts of Carrie's pussy lips which were not smoke-blackened were an angry red.
"Not likely," scoffed Sade. "Let's just have a couple of you take her to the clean bathroom and wash her holes out. Then you can rape her some more. I expect she'll find it rather uncomfortable. And we can do another of the cunts."
Dr. Petersen smiled his assent and quickly put Bella into a mild trance, as Austin and Turk untied Carrie and dragged her limp body from the room. The idea of Turk's spiked penis ripping up Carrie's freshly-burned twat was simply too delicious. Alicia wasn't sure if she wanted to follow them of stay and watch Bella's humiliation. She decided the blonde fuckpig's screams would be audible throughout the building, and stayed to watch Bella's shaming.
As before, Bella was made to stand in the centre of the room and finger herself while she recounted her sexual history (which, as with Carrie, was exclusively one of rape and abuse).
"It all began when my mother died," said Bella, masturbating piteously as the gentlemen watched and chuckled. "Although my older brothers had fingered me a bit and stuff when mum was alive. But I wasn't de-virginized until the funeral. After the priest had finished, Daddy spoke, and said what a great fuck she had been, and that I was going to have to take her place. 'Your tits have grown in nicely, so it doesn't make me a pedo,' he said."
"How old were you?" laughed Dr. Petersen.
"I had just turned ****teen. I grew curves quite young. I was a head smaller than I am now, but with the same size boobs. I was always getting groped at school. Well, at the funeral, dad just bent me over the coffin, lifted my black dress, tore my panties off, shoved them in my mouth, and let me have it. Only..."
"Yes?"
"Well, men always seem to like my bottom. It IS quite big, I suppose. And round. On the large side, but not really TOO big, or at least that's what they say. So, when Daddy raped me that first time, in front of my brothers and the priest and the whole congregation... well, he put it up my bum."
General amusement. "Did he lube you up first?" asked Christian.
"Sort of. The priest had some of that, what do you call it, UNCTION. He dribbled some of that between my cheeks. He said, 'If you're going for the difficult brown, better use some of this so you don't get chaffed in there. I've got some left over from the final confession.' He trickled it down my crack and then Daddy just... RAMMED it in."
"Painful?" asked Alicia, grinning. Carrie's wails were beginning to resound in the background.
"Very! And it seemed to last forever. The mourners started clapping in rhythm as he pumped in and out of me. The priest was jerking off. He and Daddy came at the same time. Hot jizz filling my bottom, and a faceful of the stuff... it was lucky I was crying, really, because that helped wash some of it out of my eyes. After that, Daddy just invited everyone to have a go. My brothers went first, of course, so I was triple-penetrated."
"How long did the, ah, SERVICE last?" asked Petersen.
"I think about six hours... the priest sais afterwards that he was on the verge of giving me the last rites, I was so beat-up and exhausted. Some of my uncles and nephews were really brutal. But after that life settled down and I mainly had to service Daddy and my brothers, with occasional rapes by strangers. It was only when Daddy lost his money that I had to go out in the world and earn a living that things got really bad..."
"In what way?"
"Well, my first boss, Mr. Anderson, for instance... he instituted a series of spankings for any typographical mistakes I made. And I seemed to make such a lot of mistakes! As time went on, the punishments became more severe, because I was too stupid to learn, he said. And, what with every work day beginning with me performing a blow-job on him under his desk, I seemed to be spending most of my time on my knees or bent over his! Eventually, the cane was introduced, along with nipple-clamps, electric wands and so on. And my punishments became public, to be enjoyed by the whole office. Finally, Mr. A. gave up all hope of me ever being a decent secretary and expanded my blow-job duties to include the whole office. Fourteen men, every day! My jaw would be aching along with my bottom... because you see, the men would grade my oral skills and if they felt I'd been less than professional, they would give me a black mark so I'd be punished at the end of the day. What happened, of course, is that they soon realized it was more fun to give me black marks, no matter how hard I tried to please them with my lips and tongue. Black marks translated quickly into red marks, on my bum! And other parts, too! By a Friday, my poor bottom would be so cut up, Mr. Anderson would punish my tits. or my pussy..."
"Sounds like a marvelous workplace environment," grinned Alicia.
"But then it got much worse! Mr. Anderson started using my other holes... and then he invited the rest of the office to do likewise. Well, I'm sure I don't know why, but men have always been obsessed with my bottom! So, although I had quite a lot of work to do with my mouth and pussy, my poor anus got the worst of it. At least fourteen penetrations a day, and that's just with penises! Fingers and pens and things were used all the time too..."
"Pens?"
"Yes, I spent a lot of my time as a pen-holder. There was one occasion, Mr. A. gathered the whole office together to watch as he tested how many pens he could fit inside me... both holes. Each time I was crying with pain and sure he couldn't manage another, he'd slide one in... I think he eventually managed ten in my bottom and ten in my poor little snatch! And then he took a sharp pencil and said, "a pity to use only two holes when you have three..." and he pushed the sharpened tip of the pencil... ooh... right up my urethra!"
The gentlemen laughed uproariously.
"It was very painful, and of course I wet myself, all over the shiny floor! And then I had to lick it all up while the men watched and made rude comments. Then the pens were removed, one at a time, and I had to licke each one clean. And then, of course... well, they all raped me..."
"What's the largest amount of dick you've taken in one session?" asked Basil.
"Oh... I suppose that would have been the Ravisham Maximum Security Prison riot of 2016," said Bella, still frigging away earnestly. "I had been seeing this young man... well, actually, he raped me. But he was very polite afterwards and saw me home. We became lovers. It made a change, having someone I could have consensual sex with - someone who wasn't a blood relative, I mean - although of course we still had the nonconsensual kind whenever he wanted it and I didn't. Well, the problem was, he got sent to prison. Not for rape. Well, rape was involved, but I think they'd have let him off on that, but he also beat the poor girl very badly. Said she disrespected him, and I believe him, because my Gary was always honest, whatever else he was. Except on this one occasion, as it turned out.
"He was pestering me to visit him, but what with work, and being raped every day, it was very hard for me to find the time, and thr prison was quite a way away. But finally I gave in and made the trip. It took quite a while to get in to see him - the guards had to strip-search me, and then do what they called a cavity search, but finally, after I'd sucked off three guards and the warden, I was allowed in.
"Well, I'd thought it'd be an intimate chat, just me and Garry, but there was a whole wing of the prison in the visiting room, what looked like hundreds of men. Garry said they'd all wanted to meet me when he'd told them what a lovely bum I had. Well, I blushed bright pink! And then Garry said I should let them see my bottom so they could see he was right. Said he had a bet on that mine was the loveliest arse in the country.
"Well, I must admit I was flattered. Still, I'm naturally quite shy, so I refused at first, but Garry was very insistent. He was set to win quite a big prize if my bottom was considered up to snuff. So I agreed in the end, no pun intended.
"Garry had me bend over a bench, slip my panties down to my ankles, and the raise my skirt. And this elderly fellow was to be the neutral judge. He was Cyril Felcher, the Southend Sodomiser, who had been banged up for buggery. He was considered the prison's greatest expert on female rears, having raped over a hundred before he was caught bumming a baroness.
"Mr. Felcher leaned in very close and thumbed my buttocks apart and I could feel his hot breath wheezing on my ring... it was a very uncomfortable sensation. And you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone staring at my bottom!
"He squeezed my buttocks with his dreadful wrinkly, calloused hands... he sniffed between them... and then he licked me! And he said 'The slut passes the taste test, the touch test, the visual and olfactory tests. There's just one more test I need to apply.' And Gary said, 'Go for it, Cyril.'
"I was assuming the fifth test must be something to do with sound, because that's the fifth sense, isn't it? Thought he might be going to ask me to break wind for him. Well, I would have refused, of course. But it wasn't that at all. You've probably guessed..."
Jeering laughter from the gentlemen confirmed this.
"Well, he just thrust forward suddenly... no lube or anything. Apparently he'd gotten very skilled at anal penetration even before prison... Mind you, the rest of them had caught up since they'd been incarcerated. I say 'skilled', but it was more like brute force, really. He knew just how to use his strength for the most devastating result. After five minutes on the receiving end, as it were, I was weeping hot tears of shame and agony."
"Didn't the guards do anything?" asked Basil.
"Oh yes. They were very helpful. They made the men form an orderly line and saw that, for the most part, I didn't have to service more than three at a time. There were a few occasions where it got, ah, busier than that. Once or twice I had men in all threeholes, one in each hand, one between my feet and one between my, ah, bosoms. But mostly it was just threes."
"How long did they use you?" gloated Turk.
"Well, you have to remember there were, apparently, three hundred and twelve men present. But after ten hours I'd only satisfied one hundred and eighty seven, and they were complaining that my holes had lost all tightness, so I was wheeled off to the sick bay at that point. I was extremely relieved, as you can imagine.
"In the sick bay I saw a very kind doctor, I think her name was Sweet. She explained that she had something that could tighten me up, 'just like a virgin schoolgirl,' she said, and then she produced this big syringe with a long needle. I asked if she couldn't use a smaller one and she said no, because the needle had to be able to penetrate right into the muscle. It was like a knitting needle, I'm telling you.
"It was absolute agony when she sank it into my anal ring, especially since I was already incredibly sore there after the number of rapists I'd received there. Of the one hundred and eighty seven who's ejaculated in or on me, I think at least a hundred had chosen to use me anally. They seemed to have a real preference for it, for some reason. Maybe they just liked the sound of my screams, or my sobbing or my begging for mercy...
"I gasped for breath when the needle was plucked free, but then it turned out it was a series of SEVEN injections, and then another seven in my poor pussy of course. But, I must say, they were terribly effective. Within minutes, I could barely even insert my little finger in either opening.
"I thanked Dr. Sweet and then she wheeled me on a gurney through the hospital. I wasn't sure if I was being taken to another part of the sick bay or being released. Then I realised she was taking me back to the visiting room! The prisoners were all waiting patiently - I'd only been away half an hour, and then Dr, Sweet smiled and waved goodbye and they all went right back to raping me!"
"So you were fucked another one hundred and twenty five times?" asked Turk, smirking.
"Oh no! Because, you see, the ones who had already had me were horny again by the time those men had finished, seven hours later. The whole thing kept going for another day. The guards explained that if they intervened, there'd be a riot, and someone might get hurt. Finally, though, it became obvious that this could go on forever, so the guards laid down the law and allowed each man one more session only, to do whatever they wanted to me.
"That was the worst paty - I think, really, they shouldn't have said 'whatever you want.' Because it turned out some of the men just wanted to beat me senseless. I'd say a good quarter of them were of that persuasion. The guards decided it was only fair to let each man have me for the same duration they were allowed to rape me for: ten minutes each. Well, a girl can get quite badly banged up in ten minutes, as it turns out. With a guard holding me up by each arm, the prisoners lined up and pummelled me in the face, breasts and stomach... sometimes two more guards would hold me ankles so the men could kick me... between the legs...
"After that, as you can imagine, the last fifty rapes were extremely hard to take, although the swelling caused by all those boots landing on my pussy tightened me up again, so I believe the men all enjoyed it very much...
"Afterwards, I spent a month recuperating in the prison hospital, with many more injections. Dr. Sweet would bring in prisoners to rape me to test the recovery of my holes, starting with one at a time, building up to three, then finally, when she saw I could handle a lengthy gang-rape with six hardened criminals, she released me back into the community... naked."
"Marvelous," said Basil. "Now, I expect you're feeling a bit constipated, what with your rectum being glued tight for so long. So I think we're going to free it up..."
"Oh, thank you," gushed Bella, taking care not to stop masturbating.
"Let's bend the slut over," said Basil, and they did, lying her across a chair so that her tits hung over the seat. The gentlemen all gripped various parts of the posh bimbo, and made her stick two fingers in her sticky twat as they tweaked her nipples.
Turk then showed Bella the letter opener. "This should carve an entrance alright," he remarked, and Bella turned pale.
"No... please... not that!" she begged, then, "You'll kill mgglllggg mmff!" as Turk thrust his spiky cock down her throat.
Dr. Sade took the letter opener and inserted the sharp point into Bella's gluey pucker. He picked gently at the adhesive. Each little jab pierced either glue or skin or sometimes both. Little beads of blood blossomed around Bella's spasming shit-chute.
"MMMNGFFF! MMMMK!" she squealed through her throat-raping.
Soon, Sade was able to insert the whole first two centimetres of the blade into Bella's bleeding anus. He twisted it slowly.
"MNNNNNNNGG!!!" wailed Bella.
A few more movements of the sharp knife allowed the velvety tissue to open up a little more... a few more nicks, or mini-incisions were made in the tender lining.
Bella was both sobbing and drooling at the other end. Christian and Petersen were holding her big bum cheeks wide apart so that Sade could slice at her pucker unobstructed. Soon the whole blade was turning inside her bleeding sphincter.
"Alright, the last stage is likely to get a little messy," said Sade with satisfaction.
"Then let's get Carrie," said Christian Ray.
Bella was dragged from the room by her hair, leaving a red streak on the flooring where her arse touched it... Carrie was dragged from the bedroom by Austin and George, also by her hair. She was in quite a state after her internal burning and her subsequent raping.
"OOHHHH GOD WWWHHHYYYY????" she wailed. The slut was sweating and delirious. Possibly you could say she had lost her wits, but that would mean accepting she'd ever had any. The intense fire that had been lit in her fuckholes had at least had the effect of cauterizing the severe injuries inflicted by the Raping Machine, and by the various other outrages her unwilling anus and vagina had suffered, but her subsequent force-fucking by Austin and especially the prodigious George had opened the wounds again nicely.
Both sluts were brought together in the shitty bathroom.
"Bella's asshole is nearly open, Carrie," instructed Christian. "We think the application of a little saliva and a little pressure will free it up completely. "You can do the honours."
Carrie was placed on her knees with her back to the shit-and-piss-filled bathtub. They leaned her back until her blonde locks trailed in the filth and her head rested on the edge of the bath. Then Bella was stood up, bent over, and positioned so that her very slightly fat ass was in Carrie's face.
Sade pricked Carrie's burned and ravaged pussy with the letter opener. "Lick, cunt," he ordered.
Carrie obeyed with a yelp, pushing her tongue into Bella's butt as far as she could and swirling it around.
"Ohhh..." said Bella, experiencing a new sensation. Although her asshole was cut in mutliple places, the swift action of Carrie's reluctant tongue was soothing... and stimulating. "That feels... nice...."
"Mnngglllb," replied Carrie, busily tonguing the taut pucker. Her mouth was full of the salty taste of Bella's blood, practically the first shit-free taste she'd experienced all week.
"Ohhhh, I can feel it... relaxing..." gasped Bella, her knees wobbling. Strong hands gripped her hair and steadied her ass-cheeks, keeping her in position for the anal tongue-bath. Carrie slurped away greedily.
"I think they both like it, the little whores," gloated Alicia.
"Just wait," said Christian.
"Ooooohhh... oh dear..." moaned Bella, still dutifully masturbating, "I think I'm going to..."
Carrie's eyes opened wide. There was a revilting noise as the last of the superglue sealing Bella's bowels gave way, and a torrent of liquid shit (carrying with it one severed pinkie) blasted into Carrie's appalled mouth.
Bella's stomach had been in an uproar and this was the worst-tasting of all the copious amounts of shit Carrie had been forced to eat to date. And there was a huge amount of it! It poured into Carrie's mouth, and every time she tried to close her lips, Sade pricked her pussy with his knife, provoking screams which were instantly stifled but the unceasing flow of brown liquid. And when her mouth WAS closed, of course she got sprayed in the face, so that she was soon blinding by excrement and altogether drenched in it. Great globs of faecal matter oozed down her chin and spattered on her lovely jiggling tits as she wriggled and moaned hilariously.
"Ooooh, I'm sorry Carrie!" wept Bella, all the while shitting in her friend's face with undiminished force, like a living water-cannon of effluence.
At last, after ninety seconds that felt like as many hours to both sluts, the tsunami of shit tapered off. Carrie was made to lick Bella clean as best she could. Then Alicia fetched Carrie's favourite pair of lacey panties (ones she'd privately expressed her love of, during therapy sessions) and used them to mop up a quantity of spilled girl-dung. Meanwhile, Carrie was tightly bound, shibari-style, with ropes circling her ripe jugs and squeezing them painfully. The shitty panties were then thrust into her mouth and she was left, cunt raw and dripping, body plastered with excreta, mouth gagged with the same, to consider her place in the universe.
Bella was dragged back to the Group Therapy room. Her asshole hadn't been violated for more than 24 hours, so something urgently needed to be done about that.
"Rachel," instructed Dr. Petersen, fixing the young cunt with a hypnotic eye. "You are to fist Bella. Anally."
"Parminder," said Christian Ray, "It's time for your beating."
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Enticingly brutal work, skuttrusk. Looking forward to the next installment.
And a happy new year to you!
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And to you, and anyone else who's still reading (hello?).
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Dear Master Skuttrusk,
returning from holidays I have discovered your latest postings.
And I really loved it ! Opening up Bella's anus with a letter opener stimulates my imagination. Incisions into her sphincter should have a lasting effect.
Moreover evacuating her bowels into Carrie's mouth was a perfect release for poor Bella's obstipation. But I'm really looking forward to the results of her fisting…
Apart from that I'm curious about the next episode because my favorite girl Parminder gets another treatment.
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A delightful chapter, like the one before it. Getting the true tale from the victims' own mouths is very rewarding. At least when it’s poor innocent Carrie and Bella who’s telling it. Love getting their backgrounds sorted out like this, it helps to know what they've already been through in their lives when relishing in new indecencies done to them. Never give those sweet bums any rest!
>:D
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I always intended to give Bella some backstory to go with her backside.
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PART THIRTY-EIGHT
THE ULTIMATE BEAT-DOWN (PHASE ONE)
With Carrie left bound in the bathroom, her mouth gagged with her own soiled panties, Bella was now trussed up in the Group Therapy Room along with the other whores. Cumgulper and Spunkholes were finally untied from the Raping Machine too, with Cumgulper more dead than alive. It was decided to give them a slightly easier time, so they were mounted on Sybians and left to vibrate in agony.
Rachel, under the hypnotic influence of Dr. Petersen, proceeded to fist-fuck Bella's tender asshole.
"She'll need some kind of lube, surely?" said Alicia.
"Chilli sauce?" suggested Turk.
And so it was decided. Smearing the sauce between Bella's bountiful buttocks already caused her distress, but when Rachel's slippery fingers began probing at the tight central ring and pushing the fiery fluid inside her asshole, the buxom brunette really began to bemoan her fate. Being hypnotized, Rachel had no choice but to take her commands literally, so as soon as she'd been able to loosen her target sufficiently with one finger, two, three and four, she made a fist and set about working it in by force, as Bella begged, sobbed and moaned (which did the cunt no good).
But now it was time for Parminder to get her regular beating... perhaps a bit more than the regular one...
The unhappy Indian girl was marched through to her bedroom by Christian, Alicia, Turk and George.
"Talk to us," said Christian, with his usual calm, commanding smile.
Now, Parminder had done quite well at this in the past. After realzing that the gentlemen enjoyed seeing her participate actively in her own debasement, she had come up with statements, and even a song, which gave pleasure to her audience by humiliating her, and thus she had been spared fifty per cent of the vicious beatings which were her due. But the week had taken a toll on her, and the beatings and burnings she had received, plus the distress and torture of the sluts around her, had left her barely able to think straight. She'd run out of material.
"I'm a cunt..." she began. And Alicia, grinning, slapped her hard in the face.
Parminder gasped, clutched her cheek and backed away, bumping against George's massive chest.
"I-I deserve to be raped..." she tried.
WHAP! Alicia smacked her again, a good referberant blow that really stung.
"Please hurt this worthless cunt - AAAOOOWWW!!" cried Parminder, as Alicia grabbed her by both nipples (which had previous been burned and whipped) and twisted as hard as possible, digging her fingernails in and drawing a little blood in the process. Parminder raised her arms as if to struggle, but forced herself to hold back. Putting up a fight would get her REALLY punished!
Alicia had rarely directly hurt another woman, usually getting her kicks out of watching men do it. Here, she was able to really enjoy the process, but only because she'd been given the authority by the men, her natural superiors (even the mentally defective George and the weedy Austin were, to Alicia, obviously superior, by virtue of them possessing cocks and being rapists). Her loins warmed as she watched Parminder grimace in pain, knowing she was giving pleasure to this amazing collection of woman-haters.
"You seem to have lost your flair for oratory," said Christian to Parminder, shaking his head sadly. "That means you get the full beating, I'm afraid." Parminder was shaking her head frantically, her body writhing as Alicia continued the superb titty-torture. Then she released the agonized nips, licked a touch of blood from her fingertips, and stepped aside.
"Be my guests, gentlemen," she said. "Give this little Paki cunt the pummelling she so richly merits."
George, still behind Parminder, grabbed her wrists and effortlessly twisted her arms behind her back. Turk stepped forward eagerly. He was wearing leather straps around his knuckles, dotted with sharp steel studs. He clenched his fists - and spat in Parminder's face, She flinched. It was great.
SMACK! Turk's left hand pounded into Parminder's right tit. SMACK! His right hand rippled the flesh of her left tit. Parminder was too slender, her bosoms too small to give her ribs much protection from the bruising impacts. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Turk accelerated the pace, building up a pleasing rhythm as Parminder writhed and wailed, his spittle still oozing down her cheek across her lips.
A dozen hard punches to thos jiggling, pert little funbags and then WHOOF! he sank his right fist into Parminder's smooth flat belly, doubling her up, her sleek round ass pressing against George's huge boner as she bent forward, retching in miserable agony. Not to miss a golden chance, Turk then gave her a splendid uppercut to the face, worthy of a professional fighter, snapping her into an upright position as blood spattered from her burst lower lip, which had been crushed against her teeth by the force of the blow.
Alicia led the applause, which was suitably appreciative. Then Christian stepped forward, armed with a steel rod an inch thick and twelve inches long. Parminder, dribbling bloody drool, stared at in dumb cunt horror.
THUNK! The steel rod struck Parminder just below the shoulder. It was supposed to raise a spectacular, mulri-coloured bruise, and it would certainly do so, but Christian was still getting a feel for the weapon, which mean he nearly broke the slut's arm. Parminder choked back vomit from the sheer pain of the blow.
"Aw," said Christian. "Was that sore?" He repeated the blow, only a fraction more gently, on the girl's exquisitely curved shin. It was fun to watch her dance and hop on one foot, pert tits bouncing. If she fell, the grip George had on her arms might well dislocate them, thought Christian.
THUNK! He let her have it on the knee of her other leg, and Parminder crumpled, her arms folding up unnaturally behind her back. With a pop, one shoulder deformed out of shape, then George released the other arm and let her flop to the floor, just the one wrist still held aloft.
George twisted the arm experimentally back and forth, seeing how far beyond its naturally orbit it could now flex, as Parminder, in too much distress even to scream, simply breathed stertotously, eyes rolling in her dark face. Tired of this game, George popped the arm back into its socket, causing her another jolt of searing agony.
Then, with Parminder curled in a ball on her knees, he straddled her, trapping her svelte waist between his sturdy legs (each of them as wide as Parminder, it seemed). Austin grabbed hold of her hair and slammed her head into the floor with an amusing BONK! (another bruise, and massive swelling, would soon adorn that pretty, uncreased brow) while Christian raised her ass by the simple expedient of kicking her hard in the cunt.
Having now given himself a pretty target, he let the slut have it in the pussy again with a golf-club-style swing of his steel rod, and then he crouched to inspect the damage. Parminder's cunt-lips were already swelling, but he coukd do more, much more. Pinching and spreading them, he managed to guide the tip of the steel pole into her sex orifice, pushing it inexorably, against her cries, until six inches were snugly enveloped. The sheer weight of the thing seemed set to make it slide free again, but Christian had a plan for that.
Kicking the exposed end of the rod lightly, he drove it an inch deeper into the Indian beauty's protesting fuckhole. A slightly harder kick, and the rod continued its advance. With each blow from his hard toecape, the rod speared the squirming, sobbing slut more throroughly, skewering her tight little twat as if she were a pig on a spit.
"Harder," thought Alicia, willing him on but not daring to speak.
"Harder," said Turk, out loud.
Christian kicked harder.
THUD. THUD. THUD. When the full twelve inches had been kicked into Parminder's twat, the lips started to close around it, and a final kick crushed her labia between Christian's toecap and the tip of the rod. The cunt lips became as swollen and bloody as the slut's mouth.
Parminder squealed when she saw Turk come at her with a large set of pliers, but he merely took hold of the embedded rod and pulled it from her pussy. The end of it was red with blood.
"Can't have your cunt-hole entirely out of action," said Turk with a wink.
Now George took Parminder by the throat and hoisted her to her feet - and then OFF her feet, so that she dangled by the throar, eyes bulging, tongue protruding, toes just brishing the floor lightly. George let her have a few good back-handers, turning her head from left to right and back again with the force of the mighty blows. Then he held her by the jaw with one hand drew back his fist.
"You'll have noticed that this beating is a bit more severe than usual," said Christian, as Parminder just stared at the distant, but immanent-seeming fist in terror. "By talking to us so eloquently in the past, you have successfully postponed five of your beatings. So, you see, since you failed to amuse us with your bleatings today, all five beatings have come due, and will be delivered here and now."
Parminder's eyes glanced to him, white orbs of fear. She struggled to speak.
"Mnngg-nno! You'll klll muh!" she managed, face all smushed up in George's meaty grasp.
Christian chuckled. "Nothing I've seen of you persuades me you're THAT lucky, Parminder. I think you'll survive, though we certainly won't be taking any particular care to make sure of it. But we would like to mess around with you some more tomorrow, so I rather hope you make it."
He looked to George.
"Let the cunt have it."
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Interesting development, I’m wondering when the gentlemen decide to have a go at a fresh pussy. Alicia is enjoying this way too much.
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"Let the cunt have it."
...Oh, please do.
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Got to take a good run-up for this next episode...
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Dear Master Skuttrusk,
your last installment was incredibly stimulating !
I can’t wait to observe the continuation of Parminder’s punishment. I really loved to read that she’s got to take all the saved beatings now in one session.
Maybe our gentlemen should use nice whips or scourges to shred the slender body of that defiant girl. And show no mercy for her female parts because she uses them permanently to distract our male heroes from their duties.
Your writing was indeed inspiring and is building a thirst for more cruelty.
But take your time describing lots of details as this is a very satisfying art of you rarely to be found at other authors :emot_kiss.gif:
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Thanks, I'm enjoying it! What I have in store for Parminder is completely inhuman and indefensible and also a lot of fun to think about.
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PART THIRTY-NINE
THE ULTIMATE BEAT-DOWN, PHASE 2
(Contains mostly... extreme violence :emot_thedrool.gif:)
SLAM! George's fist hit Parminder full in the face, propelling the dumstruck slut backwards through the doorway, where Doctors Sade and Petersen caught her limp form as it toppled towards the floor. Her head drooped back, blood pouring from her burst nose and lips, running up her face into her eyes and hair, since her head was now dangling from her slender neck as the doctors supported her upper body.
"A stimulant, I think, Dr. S," suggested Petersen.
"Coming right up, Dr. P," said Sade, and rammed the giant syringe into Parminder's breastbone.
The shot of adrenalin soon had her awake and gasping in full on panic mode, flecks of blood spattering her naked tits as she looked around in terror. Petersen twisted her arms hard behind her back, pinching the soft flesh, holding her in position as Sade examined her damaged face.
"Well, I can of course work miracles, but you're never going to look the dame again. Split lips heal crooked, and when a nose is smashed like this, well..." He pressed a thumb to Parminder's broken nose and she screamed. So he slapped her face.
"I can make it pretty again, but it'll be a whole new shape," he concluded. "But of course we haven't finished with you."
Sade yanked the syringe from the slut's torso, then stabbed the needle into her left tit, just for fun. Parminder gasped at the pain.
All of the gentlemen had now gathered, and they jostled the naked wretch back into the bedroom so the beating could continue in earnest. They were all excited to see what Basil was going to do with the crowbar, but first, Austin had a length of chain...
CRASH! The steel links swung into Parminder's shoulders from behind and she fell to her knees. Turk grabbed her long hair and pulled her back so her spine arched and her tits were upthrust for the next blow.
CRASH! They jiggled deliciously as the chain slammed across them. Turk had to yank hard to keep Parminder from falling flat on the floor. He twisted her around to face the next blow of the chain, as Christian and George kicked her in the ass and thighs.
CRASH! The chain sideswiped the poor bitch's face, releasing more blood and loosening several teeth.
CRASH! The tits again, because why not? They were spotted all over with blood from Parminder's torn-up face, and slowly turning purple with bruising upon bruising.
CRASH! Swinging upwards, Austin belted the slut in her cunt, making her almost lift off the floor in pain.
She was on her knees, legs apart, too weak even to close them, and thus in a perfect position for cunt abuse, so Basil duly let her have it right in the snatch with the crowbar. It's steel hook embedded itself between her swollen labia and when he yanked it away it came loose with a wet sucking sound and a pretty sprinkle of blood on the floor.
That was quite satisfying, so he drew back and hit her in the same spot, twice as hard.
This time, Parminder went UNK and there was also an audible crack as the steel tool fractured her pubic bone. The claw was rammed tight in her cunthole and the impact lifted her off her knees and almost upright. George grabbed her hair and the moaning whore was now held up on tiptoe by her hair and by the steel claw in her cunt.
Now Turk waded in with the brass knuckles, concentrating on the soft, smooth belly, hitting with all his strength to see if he could tear her cunt loose from the hook stuck in it, but no matter how hard he hit, Parminder just jiggled and shifted slightly, dripping blood from her torn cunt and OOFing softly at each colossal yet muffled impact.
OOF! OOF! OOF! Turk's armoured, spiked fists slammed into the helpless whore's tender tummy, shifting her painfully back and forth on the implement hooked into her cunt, haemorraging her insides wherever the impacts sttruck.
CRACK! out of breath after long minutes of pummelling, Turk finished the job with an uppercut to Parminder's jaw, cracking her skull back so it bounced off Basil's forehead, her slut brains bouncing around in her head like meat being shaken in a pan.
Basil winced and pushed the limp figure away so that she fell forward, the crowbar turning in her pussy, her body falling in an arc, with Christian's foot swinging up to meet her face as it dropped towards the floor.
More blood, splashing sideways as Parminder's head was turned by the kick. Turk planted one heel on Parminder's shapely ass and tugged the crowbar free from her bleeding snatch with an audible tearing sound.
Swiftly, Dr. Sade crouched down atop the unconscious girl and jabbed another needle into her bare ass.
"Not sure how much more stimulant she can take without her heart bursting," he sniggered, and was rewarded by a long, drawn-out sob from Parminder as she was forced back into consciousness and pain.
Dr. Petersen stepped forward with a long, swishy whip, firm enough to stick out almost straight, and barbed at the tip.
SWAT! He let Parminder have it right on her brown buttock, where the injection had been delivered. The whip, a particularly vicious job, immediately broke the skin, leaving a pretty little red slash, even though it had not been a particularly severe blow. Parminder yelped, and her bottom did a delightful jiggle and upward thrust.
SWAT! Of course Petersen repeated the process, with similarly pleasing results on the other cheek. Parminder flinched again, the sting sending brief ripples through her taut, shapely arse, and she began to stir...
SWAT! SWAT!! SWAT!!! The whip rained down harsher and harsher blows on the tempting target, striping the exquisite arse-flesh with red, dripping gashes. Parminder started trying to drag her bruised and bloodied body away from the punishment. A ripple of laughter sounded from the assembled gentlemen at this pathetic effort.
SWAT!!! SWAT!!! SWAT!!! Well into it now, Petersen continued doling out punishment, catching the piteous wretch on the shoulders, back, and the backs of the thighs.
As Parminder dragged herself close to the door, a long red smear left on the ground in her wake, Christian decided it would be inconvenient to have to drag her back into the room, so he halted her progress by stamping on the fingers of her right hand. Parminder cried out, and got a whip crack right up her left inner thigh at the same instant, causing her voice to break in mid-shriek.
Appreciating what Christian had just done, Sade copied the effort, stepping on the girl's left hand. While Christian had produced only horrible bruising, which would make the fingers swell like purple sausages in due course, Sade used a little more weight, and succeeded in breaking three of the dainty digits. Petersen's whip, slicing between the wriggling thighs, again changed the pitch of Parminder's scream.
Soon, the whole of her back, buttocks and thighs was beautifully decorated in red slashes, a fantastically erotic sight for all the gentlemen, and one that only made them want to hurt her still more. George positioned one great boot under the girl's side, and as Sade and Christian lifted their heels from her fingers, he spurned her body over onto her back, exposing all that tasty tit and pussy flesh to future abuse...
Now Petersen's whip was joined by Austin's scourge, Sade's steel cable and Christian's riding crop. Parminder's eyes opened slowly, traveling from one instrument of torture to the next. "Please..." she managed to croak.
And then the gentlemen started whaling on her with renewed vigour. It was like they hadn't even started. Whenever the steel hooks of the flail got stuck in the flesh of Parminder's pert titties or smooth stomach or svelte thighs, Christian and Sade would beat them with their blunter weapons until they tore free. Meanwhile the vicious whip was painting little streaks of red all over the magnificent brown body.
Parminder managed to push herself onto her front, so that her back and ass got more punishment again, which was fine, but then George kicked her over again, a little more brutally this time, and Christian planted his feet on Parminder's long, once-glossy but now tangled and matted hair, pinning her to the floor with painful tugging of her scalp, forcing her to face up and take the beating her tits and belly and cunt so richly merited. The slut folded her arms across her breasts and crossed her legs, earning her multiple lacerations and bruises to her arms and shins, so then it became necessary to restrain her more fully so that the gentlemen could have a proper go at her intimate regions, as was only fair.
George hauled the slut roughly up by the ankles so she was hanging upside down, legs apart, and Basil helpfully knelt behind her to pin her arms. Now all four whip-like implements could work their magic on Parminder's defenseless cunt, thighs, belly and tits, and all she could do was wail. Soon her enture front was discoloured from the impact of crop and cable, while the whip and flail decorated her with crimson rivulets emanating from countless slashes and gashes. Still, despite this apparent disfigurement, the girl's slender form was so enticing that she looked as rape-able as ever. Even when Turk laughingly kicked her in the head, closing one eye with red swelling which would change colour innumerable times over the next few hours, she remained appealing: one instinctively wanted to hurt, humiliate and sexually abuse her. The cunt just had that effect on you.
Alicia was creaming herself. Although she still worried about the consequences if they actually snuffed the whore, which seemed quite possible the way they were going, she couldn't stop rubbing herself and pressing her thighs together and licking her lips at the absolutely amazing sight of this gorgeous fucktoy getting the absolute shit beaten out of her. The vision was so obviously RIGHT, the punishment so obviously DESERVED, for the mere crime of being an erotically desirable Asian babe, it was quite impossible to feel any pity for the shapely, breathing punchbag at the centre of the party.
THUD! And OOF! Sade let Parminder have it in the belly with a cricket bat. Then he turned the bat edge-on and swung it down between her thighs to give her already battered pussy another reminder of male supremacy. It was hard to say if Parminder was learning her place, her true role in life, but it didn't really matter. The fun of battering her was its own reward.
CRACK! Sade let Parminder feel a surgically aimed blow on the right knee, willow striking patella with shattering force. It seemed absolutely perfect that one of the legs she was now dangling from was broken, so he aimed the bat at the cunt's left shin and broke that too. Then she passed out, so Sade had to lay down the bat and pick up the medical kit.
"One more stimulant... I think any more would be unwise. Well, THIS would be unwise, of course, of we truly cared whether the cunt lives or dies. As it is, I think she has at least a sixty per cent chance of NOT expiring from a heart attack," he mused as he injected the adrenalin again.
Parminder awoke upside down, disorientated to say the least, and in the most excrutiating pain of her young, rape-and-torture-filled life. She promptly threw up, the vomit running from her mouth up her nose, into her eyes, into her hair. Alicia and the gentlemen thought that was very funny.
But it did make her less sexy to look at. So they dragged her into the clean bathroom, knelt her on her smashed knee in front of the toilet, and gave the slut a "swirly" - forcing her face down into the bowl as they flushed it. Rinse and repeat. When the sobbing slut was half-drowned, but sort of revived and refreshed by the cold water, and undeniably cleaner, shinier, more attractive, they dragged her back into the bedroom, and stood her up, holding her by the jaw, and repeatedly stamped on her toes with his work boots. When every toe was broken multiple times, he clipped her on the jaw, just hard enough to throw her back on the bed, and began raping her. She was still conscious, technically, though whether she was sane or mentally "present" in any meaningful way, was hard to say. But she felt every inch of his massive cock in her broken cunt and then her asshole.
As George pounded the burgermeat of Parminder's cunt. Tirk took hold of her tongue with a pair of pliers and pulled it until it was extended as far as it would go. Then he pierced it, with a skewer, penetrating it as near the base as possible so that the skewer now forced Parminder's tongue to stay extended, grotesquely, as her sweet mouth filled with blood.
A second skewer was now rammed through both nipples (more blood) so that George could grip the middle of it and yank her pert tits this way and that, even slamming her up and down against the mattress. Finally, one end tore loose from the nipple, even as the hole in her tongue was gradually elongated into a gash by the strain on her tongue.
At this point, it was decided to leave George to it, the gentlemen silently deciding they didn't mind too much if he got carried away...
In the Group Therapy Room, Angela was listening.
"They're murdering that poor girl," she whispered. It was a small mercy that she didn't know what was coming next...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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...So, is that three beatings to go, then, or four? >:D
Thank you for continuing to favor us with your epic, skuttrusk. Hopefully George will manage to take some satisfaction out of Parminder, whatever it might cost her.
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That was awesome !
Give us more , I loved this progress ! And I have to agree with Corvid: more beatings to go !
Poor George should be given a reward for working so hard on this slut.
It is not much fun to fuck a loose hole, so give him what he deserves: a really tight grip on his massive manhood. Apart from that Parminder’s pitiful tits don’t have to be spared any longer.
Reading this epic story I feel like Alicia...
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What's coming next for Parminder is... strong stuff. Not that Carrie, Angela, Bella and the rest of the cunts are going to have it easy either...
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I've created a readers' poll so you can vote on which cunt should get snuffed.
I won't necessarily follow the popular vote but I'll certainly take it into account.
Here is the link. (http://ravishu.com/forums/index.php?topic=46565.0)
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PART FORTY
THE ONE-BAR PRISON
(Torture, mutilation, rape, implied snuff.)
The sun was setting outside so Basil went outside and removed the little blue tent from the airhole in the lawn which was keeping Mollie alive in her perspex coffin underground. By filtering out the sunlight for an entire day, he hoped to have thrown off the little teenage trollop's sense of time passing, and indeed he had. Mollie would experience this night, day and night as being but a single, insanely protracted night, and her slender grasp on sanity would be eroded still further...
Ambling back into the People's Own Rape Crisis Centre, Basil found the evening's entertainment in full swing. Bella and Rachel had been unbound and were standing stock-still, their eyes glazed over.
Cumguzzler lay pale and almost lifeless, cradled by the weeping Spunkholes, the inert body a grey set of flesh-globes, even more grossly bovine than usual.
But Christian and Turk were lifting Angela S. onto a "one bar prison." This was a vertical steel pole fixed to the floor with a large, studded steel dildo on the end.
The tip of the dildo was slightly pointed...
The two men lowered the little redhead onto this, sinking it painfully deep in her already-sore cunt. The slut's wrists were cuffed securely behind her back, and when her toes touched the floor, she was "released" - meaning that hse had to stand on tiptoe to prevent the implacable steel from ramming right through her slender, curvy torso.
"Aaahh!" she gasped, realising her predicament as she wobbled about, virtually pinned like a butterfly. "I can't..."
Of course, Angela's feet had been disabled with pebbles being inserted into incisions in the soles, then sewn up tight, but she couldn't even reach the floor with the balls of her feet anyway. She was en pointe like a ballerina, only naked and with slightly bigger tits.
Meanwhile, Dr. Petersen had been whispering instructions to Bella and Rachel. His hypnotic commands, of course, had the force of law, and since neither slut was exactly overburdened with brains (Rachel in particular had received so much trauma and personality-destruction that a child could probably have put her under), Angela immediately realised that they would be acting according to the wishes of the gentlemen, not under their own so-called wills.
"Hey, CUNT," said Bella, approaching Angela, who was still teetering precariously.
"What's up, CUNT?" asked Rachel, also sidling up.
But Angela was focussed less on their aggressive words, than on the objects in their hands. Or rather, hung from them. Each of the two naked sluts had a silk stocking wrapped around the knuckles of the right hand. Weighting the filmy garment was a large orange, inserted into each and filling the toe area.
"A CUNT like you needs to beaten regularly, like a gong," said Bella with a dead-eyed smirk.
"Don't you agree, CUNT?" asked Rachel.
"No I don't!" snapped Angela, perfectly aware that it was the wrong answer. But also aware that there was no right one.
Surprising her from behind, Austin filled her mouth with a ball gag.
SMACK! Something struck Angela a stinging blow on the side of the head. Right on the fucking ear, she thought, closing her eyes in pain.
As her jaw closed on the ball gag, it squirted something into her mouth. It was full of piss! Angela spluttered and scalding urine bubbled from her nostrils.
WHACK! A bruising blow was delivered to her upper arm on the opposite side.
Those oranges looked like a ridiculous weapon (the gentlemen wouldn't entrust these cunts with anything serious) but they fucking HURT.
"OOWWW-UGH!!" cried Angela, to the amusement of her audience.
THWOCK! An orange hit her right in the mouth and she tasted blood for the umpteenth time, mingling with the spray of piss.
POFF! An impact rippled her modest, pert left breast (soon, there would be a purple-and-greenish bruise to mark the spot).
WHOCK! Her navel took a resounding blow, making her flinch and almost causing her knees to buckle. Angela wasn't quite sure what would happen to her, biologically, if her legs gave way or she lost her balance completely. But it certainly wouldn't be good. Not from her point of view. Perhaps delightful and diverting to the gentlemen, and to the evil Alicia. She imagined that steel dildo piercing her cervix, impaling her womb, carrying on up through her chest, tearing its way up her throat and emerging from her mouth...
WHAP! Her right tit took a bruising blow.
Then BAP! BOP! BOOF! In unison, Rachel and Bella let her have it in the face, again and again. POP! POW! SPLAT! Soon, Angela's nose and lips were trickling blood, her mouth drooling yellow pee as her face was relentlessly battered. WHAP! WHOP! WHOOP! She was going to have two black eyes and swelling everywhere...
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! After several minutes, the blows relocated to her titties, bouncing them rhythmically with a series of aching stinging impacts. Drops of blood and urine were falling from Angela's messed-up face, decorating the soft, pert, jiggling mounds. WHACK! PIFF! POFF!
Angela's head lolled back as she strained under the troture, trying in vain to tune it out, while keeping at least some of her body weight off the spiked dildo driving ever deeper into her body.
Her tits took a sustained pounding, then the girls moved onto her pussy. SPLAT! SPACK! SCHLACK! The oranges were by now pulped and leaking, but still packed a painful impact each time the struck the tender tissue, and the fact that they were compressing her mons veneris and labia against the hard steel thrust inside her poor cunt made the pain all the greater. SPAT! SPAFF! SPLATCH!
Angela's knees were trembling violently. A trickle of blood oozed from her cunt lips and ran down the steel shaft. Beautiful. All that saved her life was that she was slim and petite, and the dildo not quite as sharp as a spear, otherwise she would have been totally impaled instead of merely wounded.
It was then that Austin came to Angela's rescue. sliding his dick into her asshole as he cupped her tits from behind, raping her tenderly in such a way as to jog her up and down on the spiked steel cock, provoking agonies but taking some of the weight off, at least temporarily.
Rachel and Bella continued to beat Angela's cunt as she was buttfucked, unable to help themselves even as the tender sex organ darkened and swelled under their incessant blows.
"Alright, that's enough," said Petersen, half an hour later as Austin finally emptied his balls in Angela's throbbing guts. The gentlemen left her in position but merecifully placed a noose over her head and drew it taut. Now she had a chance to laternate between impalement and strangulation. You couldn't say her captors were inconsiderate.
To test his control of Bella and Rachel, Dr. Petersen then asked for the loan of a scalpel from his colleague, Dr. Sade. He handed the blade to Rachel.
"Rachel, you're a pointless, brainless fuckpuppet," he said with a smile. "Cut your right nipple off."
All the cunts took notice. Even Angela, whose head was lolling as each fresh agnozing thrust ripped her rectum, came into focus and stared with wide, horrified eyes, as Rachel smiled and took the scalpel. Though Cumguzzler was largely unconscious, Spunkholes gasped and put her hand to her mouth in horror. Bella likewise seemed to come out of her hypnotic trance somewhat, but was apparently unable to move and intervene, even though she was in no way bound.
Rachel pinched her right nipple and pulled it so that the little breast was stretched out. Then she touched the blade to her skin and winced. The point pierced flesh, and a little blood flood. Gritting her teeth, she began to saw the knife-edge back and forth, slicing the skin. Blood ran freely down the gently underslop of the titty, down her ribs, deflecting down her inner thigh.
Her face was a rictus of pain as she cut herself.
The atmosphere in the room was electric.
Finally, the breast bounced back into its normal, pert, undistended position. The nipple was a little lump of tissue between Rachel's thumb and forefinger. Christian took it from her, almost gently. Then Basil eized her from behind ahd pinned her arms.
Christian deposited the pink and bloody nugget in an ashtray, and Turk turned on his blowtorch. The severed teat was soon a blackened fragment of ash,
But Rachel was still bleeding freely.
"Better cauterise that," said Turk, grinning. He played the blue flame over Rachel's wound until it was charred and smoking. When Basil released the girl, she crumpled to the floor like a puppet with severed strings.
Austin had been decorating Angela's cunt with pins. Forcing each point through her pubic mound, sinking an inch into the tender, bruised flesh.
Turk approached with the blowtorch. Twenty pins awaited his attention. Angela's screams became unbearably shrill as he carefully fired the flame past her cunt, heating only the heads of the pins. Of course, that heat was soon transmitted into Angela's cunt, as the pins became red hot...
Afterwards, as Angela hung unconscious, not quite strangling, and Dr. Sade plucked the pins from her red snatch with tweezers, he pronounced the effect quite satisfactory. "We didn't completely cook her cunt-hole. She can still recover... should we let her."
It was only when they started to prepare the cunts for bed that it became clear that one of them was dead.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
Story gets better every episode !
But it is rather mean to tease us with such a cliffhanger…
But I loved the impalement. No need for strangulation, when you are sitting on a steel shaft.
Angela should be glad that she can reach the floor with her toes. Let’s see where this is leading to…
-
...leading to a very uncomfortable night for the surviving cunts, I suspect.
-
PART FORTY-ONE
DEAD CUNT
Contains, snuff, scat, torture and yes, a little rape.
Carrie was still bound in the bathroom when they went to fetch her, brown drool running from her mouth, dripping onto her big, ripe tits. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and she was quite still.
But when Alicia plucked the shitty panties from her slut mouth, Carrie blinked and looked confused and her tits rose and fell with her breathing. The gentlemen set about re-tying her for the night.
First, they attached a set of leg-spreaders to the floor near the head of the bathtub. They bound the blonde airhead's arms tightly behind her back, wrist to elbow, which made those tits, her best feature, jut forward saucily, so that they simply had to beat them with a paddle until they went wibble-wobbled and the nipples swelled up painfully. Carrie, who had seemed somewhat blank and unresponsive, began to sob piteously, at which point they inserted a ring gag into her mouth, holding it open in cock-sucking readiness, increasing her resemblance to a blow-up doll (pneumatic, empty-headed, made to be spunked in and punched).
Then an enema was administered. The rubber tube fitted to the bath tap was pre-filled with powdered capsicum, so that the slut got an unpleasant burning sensation as the ice-cold tapwater shot up her sphincter. "Mnngg!" she moaned, perhaps hindered by her gag, though that was about as coherent as the cunt got at the best of times.
Austin happily kept the water running, watching as Carrie's little tummy began to bulge. Her bowels were filling to bursting point. He didn't really care if she exploded, and nor did anyone else on earth, but what he really wanted was to make the whore distend until she was in absolute agony, without quite destroying her insides. This he achieved perfectly, so that the slut's stomach was popping out as if she was pregnant, her asshole stretched to the limits by high-pressure, peppery water which caused both painful distension and agionizing irritation. Nimbly, he removed the tube and replaced it with a large butt-plug, and then duct-taped that to her round ass-cheeks to prevent any possibility of slippage.
Now Austin and Basil quite simply leaned Carrie forward until her bloated stomach was resting on the rim of the head of the bathtub, her weight pressing on the tender, swollen stomach, her upper body drooping into the shit-and-piss filled tub. Only by straining her waist-muscles and thighs could the hapless cunt stop her face descending into the mire of feculence. She was in absolute torment instantly. and of course she would be left in this position for the entire night.
Alicia couldn't help but snigger at the sight of those big, bouncy udders already dipping into the shit-swamp, spreading brown ripples. As Carrie struggled to pull herself up, her titties emerged coated in brown, leaving two large depressions in the mucky surface, which slowly filled with slime.
Grunting and moaning, Carrie slid back down again, her tits pushing into the excremental tub, her blonde locks trailing in the nasty fluid, her grimacing face getting closer and closer to the stinking surface, and of course her lips clamped open to receive a suitable mouthful of faeces...
When the cunt could no longer keep herself aloft, it was hilarious to watch her pretty face sink into the raw human sewage, brown bubbles rising to the scummy surface.
Regrettably, it was decided that they couldn't leave her like this, since her chances of survival would be zero and it would be more fun to give the bitch some hope of living another day to suffer more. So as Alicia grabbed the back of Carrie's hair and dragged her, choking, from the shit-feast, Turk drove a hook into the ceiling, bound the bimbo's throat with a cord, looped that through the hook and fastened the end to a second hook, which he inserted, not too gently, into Carrie's vacant cunt.
Now her head and upper body were supported by the neck (ouch), which was supported by her cunt-hook (ouch again). Her big tits still hung into the effluent. She made a terrific sight. Basil took a thin whip and slashed at the backs of her calves, knees, thighs and then her buttocks, drawing beads of blood with each stroke.
Carrie could still let her head droop and be subsumed in shit and piss. She could strangle on the cord round her neck. She could strain her back and put all the pressure on her taut stomach. Between those three unpleasant choices, she ought to be able to stay alive for eight hours...
*
Dr. Sade and Dr. Petersen dropped in to see how Parminder was getting on. George had been raping her for a solid hour, and punching her the whole time, his colossal fists slamming into her tits, stomach, face. She was truly pulverised, her features unrecognizable and her eyes so swollen shut she must be more or less blind. In fact, her bound form was so still and lifeless, could she be...
George rammed his knuckles into her side and she expelled a string of blood and saliva, spattering her own pet tits. Still breathing. Still suffering. Excellent.
Dr. Sade tutted. "I'm not sure even my reconstructiuve surgical genius can put this cunt back together again," he said, and all three of them chuckled. "Parminder," he added, "You may never be pretty again."
Parminder emitted only a low moan as George filled her broken twat with his seed.
Untying the ruined cunt, they grabbed her by the upper arms and by the hair and dragged her through to the Group Therapy Room, leaving a bloody trail through the hall. There was a collective gasp from the cunts in the GT Room, followed by renewed sobbing.
"Fuck..." thought Angela, and she would have said it aloud if not for her ball gag.
Dr. Sade took the battered Asian girl's pulse, and pronounced it weak and erratic.
"Like her mind," laughed Petersen, and the rest of the gentlemen joined in.
Alicia was a little worried that Parminder wasn't going to survive. On the one hand, the idea of literally raping these useless whores to death was a big turn-on. One the other hand, she was worried a little about her job security and even legal ramifications if she got blamed for them being snuffed. Still, on the whole, any risk seemed worth it for the ringside seat she had to the most amazing sexual abuse ever staged...
Since Parminder had one broken shin and one broken knee, it wouldn't do to put her head in a noose for the night, so they did the next best thing. Standing the moaning fuckhole on her head, they put a noose around each ankle and let her hang by her broken legs. He head and shoulders still touched the floor, her neck all bent to on side by the pressure. Dr. Sade stuck a large syringe into the femoral artery in her inner thigh to "Give her a boost," by which he really meant "Prevent her from slipping into merciful unconsciousness."
Then they shoved a large vibrating egg into the dangling girl's swollen cunt. Its loud buzz echoed around the room and Parminder shivered deliciously. But they weren't finished...
Lifted Angela from her spike, they say her astride Parminder, legs scissoring, cunt resting on cunt. A cord was bound around Parminder's ankle and Angela's throat, so that the dainty but dirty brown foot was inches from Angela's face. They even removed the ball gag, which had long since spurted the last of its piss filling down the Irish redhead's spluttering throat.
Angela sat there. one foot resting on Parminder's breast, the other dangling freesly between her shoulders. The buzzing egg was sending its vibrations right into her little sore pussy....
Then Sade gave her a shot in one pert ass cheek - a powerful aphrodisiac. And he rubbed a little irritant on her clit, to make it swell up and throb.
Angela began to feel very uncomfortable...
The gentlemen meanwhile were arranging Rachel and Bella for the night. Since both cunts were still under Petersen's hypnotic spell, it was easy to position them amid an arrangement of torture devices supplied by Tarkas Industries. First, each slut was compelled to squat on a pair of steel dildos, penetrating cunt and asshole to a depth of twelve inches. The dildos were actually articulated so they could bend and follow the curves of the girls' insides, reaching right into their bowels via their assholes, and, by way of their pussies, almost to the cervix.
Next, steel croc clips were snapped shut on their puffy nipples, cunt lips (inner and outer) and clits (Pulling the hoods back first), causing acute pain and light bleeding. Bella's large breasts swayed as she shifted in distress - "Owwwooowwwwowow!" - while Rachel's pert titties jiggled as she squirmed in agony. Lacking one nipple, she had to be clamped by the skin of her injured titty.
*
The agony in which the surviving cunts passed the night hardly needs to be described, but since it's amusing to to do think upon, here is a brief description anyway:
Carrie, bound in the bathroom, experienced tha agony of her full belly, inflated by enema, being crushed as her weight rested on it, and had to strain her back, thigh and stomach muscles to keep her face out of the tub full of liquid excrement before her. As it was, the stink was unimaginable, the bathroom door well shut to seal it in. The only possible way to alleviate the strain was to lower her upper body closer and closer to the surface of the shit, just for variety. Often Carrie's large, pert tits sank into the icy mire, and on more than one occasion she awoke, spluttering, having passed out and submerged from the head to the small of the back. Then it took great effort to draw her torso from the sucking swamp, and then to cough and choke out the effluent clogging her throat and nostrils...
The night seemed endless...
*
In her grave, in her plastic coffin, in the dark, Mollie lay bound and suffering. Various unpleasant bugs, from cockroaches to spiders to mealworms, crawled and scuttled over and into her naked body. Some of them bit.
She had no idea how long she had been below earth, and nobody had fed her for close to two days. She was dying of thirst, quite literally.
But she couldn't sleep, because of the sudden, random outbursts of music.
"We had joy, we had fun / We had seasons in the sun..."
*
Bella and Rachel sucked and gulped at the tubes held in their mouths by ball gags, swallowing down cold animal semen in unbelievable quantities. No matter how much each slut imbibed, the other would sometimes beat her, and she would receive savage electric shocks, delivered to her tits, pussy (inside and out) and asshole.
It took a while for Rachel to realize that she could win more frequently by distracting her fellow-prisoner from her glutinous task. After three particularly galling defeats had led Rachel to receive three escalating electric shocks, causing her insides to spasm in agony and her breasts to thrash as her body convulsed, she espied, or perhaps imagined, an expression of gruel triumph on Bella's attractive yet foolish face, as she gulped down yet more livestock spunk.
Anger flared up in Rachel's mind, and she lashed out. The cunts were bound close together, and her tight, hard little fist impacted with Bella's smooth, soft belly, sinking in an inch or so in a sharp, bruising impact. Bella gasped and spunk came bubbling out of her nose. Rachel nearly choked herself from laughing at the sight. She then applied herself to cum-sucking with a vengeance, and was rewarded by the sight of Bella's massive udders bouncing and jiggling as a high-voltage punishment wracked her slender-but-very-curvy frame.
Having won that round, Rachel was determined to keep winning, so she slugged the brunette in the guts again, and again won.
But Bella, though slow on the uptake, was not entirely insensible, and just as Rachel drew back her little fist to deliver a third blow, Bella lashed out instead, landing a surprisingly hard punch on Rachel's breast, the one with the severed nipple. That started it bleeding again, and caused Rachel to emit a gargling scream through the cum filling her throat.
From that point on, the sluts' night passed even more unpleasantly than it might have done, with each of them suffering not only the indignity and revulsion of gulping down around two and a half litres of cum, and the pain of multiple electric shocks, but a series of vicious punches, slaps, scratches and pinches from their fellow victim. Both little bitches were black and blue with a whole new set of injuries by morning.
As a final, supreme joke on the stupid fuckpigs, their eagerness to outdo one another in the art of spunk-swalloing led to the tank being drained by six a.m. Since the gentlemen didn't arise to releieve them until eight, that gave them two hours of BOTH being electro-shocked every ten minutes, at increasing wattages, for their pathetic failure to drink any cum at all...
*
Of course, on an emotional level, Chloe/Spunkholes was suffering most of all, glued to her dead sister, feeling the swollen tongue invading her mouth, able to see only the blank, staring eyes before her.
*
But emotion isn't everything. The physical pain of Parminder, hung from her broken legs with Angela sat scissor-legged on her crotch, was undoubtedly the most extreme felt by any of the cunts in PORCC.
The sensations experienced by Angela were on a different level. The vibrating egg stuffed inside Parminder's swollen, brutalized pussy was buzzing mercilessly beneath Angela's own hot little box. And the aphrodisiac formula, injected by Dr. Sade into her cute little welted butt, was driving her crazy.
Angela knew that her slightest movement must be torture to Parminder: the Indian girl's moans attested to it. But she couldn't stop squirming. She had to cum!
It wasn't that she felt that to at least get one orgasm out of a week of brutality and rape would be some kind of victory. On the contrary, the Irish TV whore was just barely intelligent enough to appreciate that it would be a deep, shameful moral defeat, and something that would fill her with humiliation and self-loathing for the rest of her life. But she couldn't help it: her cunt was on fire. Her nipples were swollen as if scalded. She just HAD to grind her boiling cunt against Parminder's, lubricating that viciously beaten slit with her own juices.
Extending her tongue, she found she could lick Parminder's broken toes. She could even slide her tongue between them, and - YES! - suck on that tempting big toe.
And with her own foor, she could massage Parminder's breasts. Feel the nipple, squeeze it between her toes.
More moans from Parminder.
But it was no good worrying about the brown-skinned beauty. Nothing good was going to happen to her. But Angela had the chance of achieving at least temporary release from this agony of arousal...
Unluckily for her, the drugs Sade had stabbed into her saucy little ass both stimulated desire and retarded orgasm. Angela squirmed for eight hours and never came once.
Ha! What a dumb slut! Serves the cunt right!
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
Must confess that I'm just a tad disappointed that Becky slipped off in the aftermath, rather than at the gentlemen's direct attentions.
Hopeful that Carrie's bloated belly receives some harsh attention. I'm sure that watery payload must be increasing the involuntary pressure within her recently-cooked pussy.
Pleased to see the saga continuing, skuttrusk.
-
On behalf of Tarkas Industries, I would like to thank you for your continued patronage, sir, and offer to a lifelong (yours, not the sluts’!) sponsorship, involving unlimited access to our.... EXXXtreme Range of implements, some of which are barbaric and truly appalling, while others are nowhere near as gentle, in their effects upon a slut.... inside as well as outside....
Tars Tarkas
CEO
(PS amazing work, as always, Skuttrusk! Amazing!!)
-
Thanks!
I didn't go to town with the first fatality, because, well, there might be more to come...
-
PART FORTY-TWO
THE LAST MORNING
Contains scat, implied snuff, torture.
The sun dawned brightly on the premises of the People's Own Rape Crisis Centre. The sun blazed into the Group Therapy Room, glinting on the curvacious forms of the tortured beauties imprisoned therein, and into the bathroom where Carrie lay uncomfortably bound. It couldn't reach the cold grave where Mollie lay in chill torment, but that was rather the point, after all.
Christian and Turk dropped in to see whether Carrie had dorwned in the tub of shit overnight. They were pleased to find her alive, but only because that meant they could make the cunt suffer more. They untied her ankles from the leg-spreader attached to the floor, then sat her on the edge of the bath and let her drain away the enema that had been painfully distending her little belly. With a serious of embarrassing squelches, Carrie relieved herself into the brimming brown resevoir.
Hanging over the tub, Carrie had at times dipped into the shit, so the gentlemen let her wipe her face roughly with toilet paper, which got tossed into the tub. Her face was still very slightly soiled in those difficult-to-clean places, and her prominent mammaries were caked in filth, but she was clean enough to perform her morning duty, likcing the other whore clean after they'd urinated and defecated.
In the Group Therapy room, Rachel was found with her fingernails litterally embedded in the flesh of Bella's big tits. They had to prize them out, after turning off the electric current which was giving both sluts regular, severe shocks.
Bellan tits bloody, was draggedt hrough to the bathroom first, to void herself noisily into the bath. The huge amount of cum she'd ingested overnight gave her faeces a distinctive slimey quality, which Carrie was able to appreciate as she licked Bella's sore, dildo-abused anus clean. Since everything Carrie had eaten that week had been either shit or seriously contaminated with shit, this practically made a change. Rachel's excrement was the same way.
Then some solvent was applied to Spunkholes and the corpse of Cumguzzler, allowing them to be pealed apart, and the sobbing teenage bimbo, the survivor of the pair, was taken to the bathroom to perform her meagre excretion. It tasted more like pure shit to Carrie, but at least there wasn't much of it.
Neither Angela nor Parminder was in any condition to walk, so they were each dragged by their hair. Angela had felt close to cumming for hours now, driven wild by the aphrodisiac injected into her butt. She pooped and peed healthily, then squirmed in outraged ecstasy as Carrie ran her tongue all over her cunt and asshole. The gentlemen allowed this to continue for far longer than necessary, so that both holes were gleaming clean with saliva and Angela was certain she was going to cum, then, laughing, they curtailed it.
Parminder, barely conscious, was sat on the tub and slapped until she shat, and Carrie busied herself obediently, lapping up the smears of shit like the cunt she was. She knew better than to offer any resistance. A mouthful of shit should be regarded as a treat for a cunt like her, she knew, because at least she wasn't getting beaten and raped while she chewed it up and gulped it down.
The gentlemen agreed that it was a disgusting display and that the cunt should be punished for it, hard.
"Cheer up, cunts," said Christian once they were gathered at the breakfast table and Carrie was choking down her bacon and eggs garnished with liquidised shit. "Today is your last day as prisoners of PORCC."
They didn't know quite how to take that. They were mostly crazy from the abuse they'd suffered for six days and seven nights. But they suspected it might not be altogether good news. Not for all of them.
"Take Parminder through to her bedroom, bind her, and prep her for the operation," Dr. Sade told Turk and George.
The other cunts watched, wide-eyed with alarm, as Parminder's broken body was half-dragged, half-carried away.
Basil produced four shovels. "Alright, those cunts who can walk, I have a job for you. Outside."
Carrie, Bella, Rachel and Spunkholes followed meekly. Rachel, of course, was hypnotized, and had no choice. Spunkholes was too traumatized. And Bella was too afraid.
"Get away if you can!" cried Angela after them, which earned the Irish slut a good hard slap in the mouth from Basil. Then Christian and Austin fell upon her, manipulating her limbs into an elbows and knees stance... Angela tried uselessly to protest as a ring gag was strapped round her head: "Fuck off, get ggglllmmmggg!" Austin slipped his salami to her from behind while Christian raped her mouth. They rocked her back and forth, spanking her ass rhythmically. It was a relatively mild gang rape by the week's standards, but they were only just starting the day...
The front door opened, and Alicia, Basil, Sade, Petersen, Turk and George led Bella, Carrie, Rachel and Spunkholes out into the grey morning. It had been raining overnight and the lawn was spnmgy underfoot, which made things difficult for the cunts as they had all been dressed in gloriously impractical stiletto heels. This was partly to stop them running away, but as the gentlemen were all armed with cattle prods or tasers, there was little chance of that anyway.
In addition to heels, the cunts had all been forced to don sex lingerie. Bella wore panties and a half-cup bra much too small for her, so that her upper butt crack and lower cheeks were permanently on display, and her nipples kept popping out. Rachel wore peekaboo panties and bra, with butt, pussy, and remaining nipple exposed through holes in the fabric. The wound where her severed nipple once stood was covered with an X of sticking plasters, and the little circle at the back of her panties displayed clearly the base of the large butt-plug that had been rammed into her unwilling anus.
Spunkholes wore lacey garments that were utterly translucent, hiding nothing, and Carrie wore a short halter top that exposed the underside of her big boobies, and through which her nipples poked with startling clarity as they responded to the chilliness of the day. Her panties were skimpy and white, and the buzzing mini-vibe taped to her clit had already caused her to soak the gussett in a most embarrassing way...
The cunts were marched to Mollie's graveside..
"Get digging, you fucking cunts," sneered Turk, giving Bella a quick shock on the ass cheek with his prod.
Of course, a crowd soon began to gather...
"Why are those women naked, daddy?"
"Because they're sluts, son."
"Look at those filthy fucking whores."
"And they wonder why they get raped."
"Sluts! Cunts! Bitches!
"Disgraceful whores."
It was hard, dirty work. Soon the sluts were muddy and damp with sweat, and they shivered every time a cold breeze caressed their flesh. Titties jiggled delightfully as they laboured.
Slowly, the pit grew deeper. The rain had made the digging easier but messier. The hole filled with mud and rainwater. The sluts took it in turn to stand in the pit and shovel muck outwards, which got harder the deeper they got. They were standing up to their shins in icy, filthy water. Their lingerie clung to their skin, translucent and dirty.
Eventually, Spunkholes passed out. Her loss of blood, her injuries, and the cold and the hard work were too much for her, and she splashed face-down in the pit. It was now four feet deep, and though Carrie turned her around so she didn't drown at once, and Bella jumped into the pit to help, it was a terrible job lifting the wet, slippering, soft, limp body out of the muck and onto the lawn. Once she was there, splayed mostly nude on the grass, they administered CPR to make sure she was breathing then lay her on her back.
"Back to work, you shiftless bitches!" ordered Basil, shocking Carrie's cunt. They returned to digging.
After over an hour, with a soft rain beginning to fall and the temperature dropping all the time, Rachel's shovel struck plastic.
Even with the coffin discovered, getting all the dirt away from the screws that held the lid down was almost impossible and took forever, not helped by the gentlemen regularly shocking the cunts and ordering them to get on with it. Pails were handed out and the brown water was bailed out as best as was possible.
Finally, it was Carrie and Bella's time in the pit as the Y-shaped coffin was opened and young Mollie revealed to the daylight. She was thin, bitten all over by bugs and mealworms, and her face screwed up as the dim daylight burned her eyes. They untied her, managed with difficulty to remove the specula from her pussy and asshole, and tried to pass her up to Rachel six feet above on the lawn. Though Mollie was fairly light, she was soon wet, slimed with mud and slippery as hell. They managed to stand her up and raise her arms so that Rachel could grip her wrists, but Rachel was too slight to pull her up alone.
Bella started to climb out to help, and then the side of the grave started to crumble. Mud poured around Carrie's knees. Bella kept scrambling, getting slightly nearer ground level but bringing down masses more dirt. Rachel lost her grip on Mollie, who was too weak to be of any help, and then Carrie sat down in the mud with a loud squelch, and Mollie sat in her lap. Carrie sank up to her waste.
Bella got onto the lawn, her whole front caked with mud, her big tits brown and dripping.
Turk handed Rachel a pole with a noose on the end and whispered in her ear. The hypnotized little bitch nodded and reached down with the pole, slipping the noose around Millie's slender throat. She began to pull. With a wet, sucking sound, Molliw was lifted from the mire. Bella grabbed Rachel's waist and, face in her butt, pulled. Mollie was lifted up onto the grass, half-throttled. They took the noose off and she was able to resume breathing.
"Um, help?" said Carrie. She was up to her tits in the mud, and as the rain fell, more of the edges of the grave kept collapsing. Soon she would be completely submerged. The situation wasn't helped by certain gentlement, notable George and Basil, dancing about on the edge of the grave, kicking bits of sod into the pit...
Bella was just smart enough to figure out that if she noosed Carrie's neck, it would be fatal to try to frag her from that amount of mud, so she went with one wrist. Christian was kind enough to dangle a cattle prod so that Carrie could grasp it, and he only shocked her a few times for a laugh. Eventually they got her exhumed, indescribably filthy and gasping and shivering.
Dr. Petersen had been whispering in Spunkholes' ear as she lay unconscious. Now he moved onto Bella, Carrie and Rachel, implanting little post-hypnotic Easter eggs in their sluggish cuntlike minds. And Dr. Sade hovered over Spunkholes, needle at the ready.
It took several shots, injected into the slumbering slut's tits, ass and clit, to eventually bring her round. Then two of the gentlemen hauled her to her feet as Carrie, Bella, Rachel and Alicia dragged her sister's corpse downstairs and out onto the lawn.
Christian ready the eulogy.
"Cumguzzler was a worthless whore and a mindless set of fuckholes all her life. It's only right that the stupid cunt should be killed once her holes were no longer fit for raping. We take great pleasure in consigning her big-titted carcass to the muck and filth where it belongs."
As Spunkholes watched in utter horror, the four women took hole of her dead sister's wrists and ankles and swung her body back and forth in front of the filthy pit. The corpse's big tits just about scraped furrows in the muddly lawn as they brushed against it. After three swings, everyone let go at once and the body flew through the air and pitched head-first into the swampy pit. There it lay on its face and knees, ass sticking up, showing its ruined holes, head buried in the muck. It was a hilarious sight, and also somewhat erotic, it was so degrading.
The gentlemen all laughed. So did Alicia, of course, and, thanks to Dr. Petersen's little suggestions, so did the cunts, much to their distress.
Even Spunkholes.
When the hilarity had died down a little, Rachel, Carrie and Bella started to fill in the hole. The first shovel-full of mud hit the deceased right on the upraised buns, the muck filling in her torn-up cunt and gaping asshole, which provoked more loud laughter. The audience watching from the street couldn't see what was funny, but they joined in anyway. It was funny to see these filthy, mud-smeared sluts in their ripped and soaked lingerie, laughing until their tits jiggled at their companion lying dead in the pit.
It didn't take long to fill the hole in after that, and that was the end of Cumguzzler, who had once been called Becky, but was now just food for the worms.
Everyone went inside, carrying Molly's naked, delirious form, to continue, and conclude, the ordeal of the PORCC cunts...
-
One wonders if any of the lot will be able to string two coherent thoughts together before this is over, even if they survive.
Some very evocative descriptions, skuttrusk; I think you have a lot to be proud of, bringing together so many threads into such a grand over-piece. I'll look forward to the conclusion.
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As do I, corvid! I’m more than a little proud and delighted to have been able to help skuttrusk - one of my literary ‘heroes’, here - with some ideas or inspirations for events in this incredible and masterfully told tale. I can only hope that Tarkas Industries might play a role at some point in future tales of Carrie and co. Perhaps even in the finale, if possible, as we offer a clean and discreet disposal service which the likes of the good doctors might be aware of...? ;)
This truly is your magnum opus, skuttrusk. Wonderfully written with wit, eroticism and horror, all, to keep us deviants entertained for so long.
Bravo, sir.
Tars
CEO
Tarkas Industries Inc.
-
Still quite a lot of action to cover. These cunts haven't suffered nearly enough yet, but the gentlemen are working on it...
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PART FORTY-THREE
CLEAN-UP
It was a good thing one bathroom had been kept clean. The filth-soaked girls dragged Mollie's limp, naked form into the shower and, supervised by Turk and Basil with cattle prods giving them the occasional jolt of encouragement, they washed her and themselves. The water, predictably, was ice-cold, except when they were forced to hold Mollie upside down by the ankles and jet water into her gaping holes, which were completely slack after a week being held open by speculums (specula?). For that, the water was turned up to scalding temperatures and Mollie, who had been unresponsive and catatonic until this point, actually gave a cry and a cute little wiggle as the insides of her holes were scorched lobster-red.
It took an hour to wash the grime off all the cunts and to clean out the various roaches and mealworms infesting Mollie's pussy and asshole, with Carrie and Bella freaking out whenever they found a creepy-crawly intruder.
Meanwhile, the sisters' bedroom had been converted into a makeshift operating theatre. Mollie was laid naked on Spunk-holes' bed, faced down, her wrists and elbows tethered to the bedposts, her ass bolstered upwards by a heap of cushions placed under her.
"Tsk, tsk, these holes are really what you'd call ruined," smirked Dr. Sade, "but I think we can make them fit for purpose in at least a temporary fashion. First, a round of injections to tighten the muscles..."
Mollie wept and shrieked as the needle pierced her vaginal and anal lining multiple times, but she felt the holes pulling weakly closed as the drugs took effect.
"Next, this special ointment should shrink and pucker the tissue," said Sade, scooping out a wad of translucent goop with his rubber-gloved fingers and rubbing it well into Mollie's orifices. Since he wasn't at all concerned about infection, he started with her anus before moving onto her sore snatch. The slack openings tightened up a little more.
"Oh, I should have warned you, it DOES sting like the blazes," chortled Sade as Mollie began to scream from the burning pain. Christian, watching indulgently, gagged Mollie with a pair of Bella's mud-soaked crotchless panties.
"And, for the final touch, we just need some stitches. This special elastic thread will give your fuck-holes a pleasant, yield tautness when we rape you," said the good doctor, threading up a large, curved needle. He jabbed the point under the skin of Mollie's anal pucker and began stitching around the ring. Everyone was grateful for the gag, as Mollie's screams now rose in pitch and frenzy...
*
Watching on her big-screen TV, Suki laughed. "I have a feeling the gentlemen are going to make up for lost time once they have that little slut in a fuckable condition... After all, she's been underground for a week, missing out on all the lovely rape... A terrible waste of eighteen-year-old pussy, if you think about it."
The figure beside her guffawed. "IS she even eighteen? She looks quite a bit younger."
"Close enough," said Suki, stroking her own slit in a relaxed fashion. "Nobody's going to make a fuss about a stray year or four. The point is, can we legally broadcast any of this stuff? Having one of the cunts dead does raise potential difficulties."
"What you need is a compelling case that broadcasting hours of rape and torture, with a little murder thrown in, is in the national interest," said the bulky, mysterious figure.
"You may have something there..." said Suki. "Hey, cunt!" she suddenly snapped, "Crawl over here and get licking, I've got the horn again."
Teenage victim Candy Simple rose from her dog basket onto all fours and crawled as instructed to Suki's chair, where she extended her tongue and began to lick her mistress's swollen clit.
*
Meanwhile, in PORCC, another teenage twat was crawling dejectedly, as Mollie, freed from the makeshift operating room, was forced to writhe through to the Group Therapy Room on elbows and knees, her shapely little bottom displayed to great advantage, blood trickling from her now virginally tight cunt and asshole.
"Next!" called Dr. Sade, clapping his blood-dripping rubber-gloved hands together.
"Come on, Parminder," said Alicia, "It's time for your operation..."
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
OMG, that was really mean Master Skuttrusk !
Showcasing Molly's repair as an appetizer before playing the trumpcard Operation of Parminder and then :emot_thedrool.gif:… To be Cunt-inued…
That was sadism at its finest towards your fans... :emot_weird.gif:
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Yes, but on the psoitive side, hopefully you won't have to wait so long for the next installment. :angel:
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Glad to see you're still about, skuttrusk.
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Thanks. Hanging in there.
-
PART FORTY-FOUR
THE OP
Contains rape, beatings and mutilation (FGM).
At lunchtime, only a few of the cunts were seated at the dinner table, dildos embedded in their holes, giving them internal electric shocks or else burning their insides with chilli sauce. Carrie was one of them.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Alicia approached with a frying pan.
"Carrie," she smiled, "since it's your last day with us, I thought you might like some real food for a change instead of munching on human faeces. So I fried you up some bacon. Don't tell anyone."
She ladeled a few paltry scraps of pinkish meat on to Carrie's plate. Bacon wasn't Carrie's favourite dish by any means, but the thought of actual food, food that hadn't either just emerged from somebody's asshole, moist and steaming, or been smeared with shit or otherwise contaminated, made her mouth immediately start watering. Before she embarrassed herself with actual drooling, she forked up the first little strip of meat and munched greedily, feeling the flavour flood her mouth, the first taste of anything that wasn't human excrement, piss or cum that she'd experience all week.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
George was anally raping Mollie at the foot of the table, the teenager bent over as he rammed her recently-sutured asshole and bashed her head off the hard wooden surface, but Carrie hardly noticed, she was enjoying her paltry meal so much.
SMASH. SMASH. SMASH.
George switched to smashing Mollie's face into the tabletop, and soon the sobbing girl was bleeding from burst lips, broken nose, and had lost a couple of teeth. But nobody was paying attention. Carrie became aware that not just Alicia, but several of the gentlemen, including Dr. Sade, Christian, Dr. Petersen, Basil and Turk, were watching her keenly, smiling each time she forked up a little piece of pinkish meat. Oh well, it didn't matter,
"Enjoying that, Carrie?" asked Basil.
"Oh yes, it's very nice, thank you," said Carrie.
Everyone chuckled lightly.
Carrie smiled back. The dozy cunt still hoped that, if she were as nice as possible to the gentlemen, maybe they would be a bit nicer to her.
*
Earlier that day, Angela's morning rape had been cut short when Christian tied a collar round her neck and Basil yanked his dick from her aching asshole and they led her through to one of the bedrooms. Parminder, beaten all to hell yet still somehow wildly desirable in her broken, vulnaerable state, was tied to a bed by wires around her thumbs and big toes, looped round the bedposts. He legs spread, her swollen, bloodied cunt on display. She was ball-gagged and her nipples were clamped with croc clips, for the hell of it.
"Angela, you miserable little bog-trotting cum-whore," said Dr. Sade, "It's time for you to make yourself useful. Crawl between Parminder's thigh and lap at her poor, battered fuck-slit, would you? I need hardly add that refusal will result in my sewing up your cunt with this little device inside it: it generates intense heat, and is remote-controlled..."
Angela looked at the device, which seemed real enough, gulped, and then crawled up onto the bed, protecting the injured soles of her feet as best she could. She began to lick at the red and swollen clitoris and labia, feeling Parminder's body ripple as the Indian girl writhed in response to the pain. She was as gentle as possible... and she loved it. Causing Parminder pleasure or pain was the same to her by now, she just loved to have an effect on that beautiful slut... to have some degree of power...
Dr. Sade filled a large syringe and cruelly twisted the needle into Parminder's nipple.
"For the pain," he smiled. What he meant was, the drug would intensify pain and at the same time prevent unconsciousness. But that was understood.
"Hardly necessary, I would have thought," mused Basil. "Thousands of young cunts get this operation every year, with no need for drugs."
"Yes, but in those cases," smiled Sade, raising a scalpel so it glittered in the light, "the operation is performed as quickly as possible. I intend to make this one last as long as I can..."
Parminder's eyes were fixed on that blade, regarding it in terror. Angela, however, did not look up, her whole attention focussed on arousing the bloated pussy before her, worming her little pink tongue into every crevice, even thumbing the lips open so she could lap at the juices inside.
Parminder's cunt was full of cum, she had been raped many times. To Angela, it tasted delicious. She wondered if it was true that rapists' cum tasted better, as she had heard Alicia suggest. But she felt sure the reason she was relishing the taste of this jizz - it seemed like there were litres of it - was merely that it was inside Parminder.
Even when Turk shoved his viciously pronged cock up her asshole, Angela did not falter from her duty.
Parminder's body and face grew flushed, from what one could tell through the lattice of welts and cuts covering her tits and belly. When it seemed like she was close to orgasm, Angela was rudely pulled away and Basil shoved his cock, flavoured with Angela's asshole, into the Irish girl's mouth and she sucked greedily on it, demented with desire and terror.
Then they made her watch.
Dr. Sade first nicked Parminder's pussy lightly with his blade, forming red dotted lines around the outer labia. Then he pulled the left lip back and expertly pierced it with a safety pin, which he also stuck through the skin of the girl's inner thigh, thus pinning her cunt open on one side in a most charming effect.
This he repeated on the right side until the girl's inner pinkness lay fully exposed.
As Parminder squirmed and moaned, the good doctor lightly ran his blade over her inner lips, her clit, not cutting, just tickling...
The attention of everyone in the room was riveted on Parminder's splayed cunt.
Then, Sade marked up the inner lips with little nicks, the same way he had done the outer labia. He was breathing heavily and he had to pause frequently to steady his hand.
Then, a series of the most delicate pin-pricks from the scalpel illustrated a route around the clitoral hood.
Blood from these various little incisions welled up so that each crease of the pink pussy became stained with flowing redness.
Various of the gentlemen leaned in and gripped Parminder's bare thighs tightly, or pressed down on her belly, keeping her pubis still for the delicate work...
Parminder was weeping desperately, a strange keening noise. It had clearly been an excellent idea to make her cunt so engorged and aroused before the cutting began...
Inserting a fish-hook under the clitoral hood, the gifted doctor pulled it up and out so that he could slide the tip of his knife under... then, with skilled movements, he slowly sawed through the skin. Blood flowed more copiously now, and the little shroud of skin peeled away, until it hung by the merest shred. Gripping it with tweezers, Sade pulled it so it stretched taut, then the last connective tissue ripped and he deposited the bloody scrap in a shiny kidney dish.
His rubber-gloved finger tips were wet and slippery with blood from Parminder's pussy.
Her clit lay fully exposed, a little purple bauble. Using a pair of surgical clamps, Sade took a grip of it, tightening the steel pads until the rosebud was viciously squashed between the steel pads. He lay the clamp on Parminder's belly.
"Fantastic," breathed Christian.
Turk fired up his soldering bolt and cauterized the edges of what had once been Parminder's clitoral hood.
Austin gave a thumbs-up gesture to the doctor, grinning broadly.
Sade then applied himself to the inner labia, slicing with the little knife in tiny. careful movements, cutting only halfway through one side of the lips. By this means, he was able to make the first part of the amputation of Parminder's interior labia last nearly half an hour, protracting the torture. Having done this, he then cut the other side, and after another half hour of agony for the sweat-soaked, sobbing creature, her inner lips dropped into the dish with the softest of plops.
Again, Turk moved in with the soldering bolt and seared Parminder's cunt, the sizzling smell creating a bacon-like aroma in the close room. Blood boiled and blackened and the fresh wounds were sealed up in the most painful possible way.
Angela realised that she hadn't swallowed or taken a breath in almost a minute.
The bleeding staunched, Dr. Sade now turned his blade to the outer lips. These were thicker and meatier... he cut half-way through them in bold strokes, but rather than going for simple amputation he cut multiple slices, some deep in, close the thecunt-hole, others farther towards the extreme edge... he ripped those cunt-lips into slashed ribbons.
The bleeding was copious. By the time he had removed the last unrecognizable strips of skin, the mattress was soaking with a huge dark stain spreading from around Parminder's buttocks.
The screaming when Turk applied the heated end of his soldering bolt was almost supersonic.
"And now," smiled Sade, "the piece de resistance, what is known as the clitorodectomy. Again, to make this last as long as it should, I will be using the finest of blades, to cut the naughty little organ away in the merest slivers. Translucent slivers, I assure you, is what I have in mind..."
He was as true as his word, and made the operation last an hour. First, he contented himself with razoring off merely the outer tissue of those parts of the little nub bulging from between the pads of his clamp. Then he removed the clamp, causing further agony to Parminder as the circulation was restored. Working close with the aid of a magnifying glass, tweezers, and the sharpest of blades, he flayed the hysterical bitch's clit away to nothing.
Little thin pieces of bloody flesh were dropped into the growing heap in the dish.
Finally, Turk burned the little wound shut, and then Sade applied curved needle and thread for good measure, until all that remained of Parminder's cunt was a tiny sutured wound, red and raw and miniscule.
"Alright, who wants to be first?" asked Sade generously.
"Let George do it!" grunted George, and nobody felt like arguing.
They made Angela watch. Watch as Parminder's destroyed cunt was destroyed all over again by George's massive dick.
And then they did something worse.
They fed the scraps to Carrie.
And then they brought Carrie through to show her what she'd been eating.
"What...? But...? Oh... oh my G..."
When Carrie's legs gave way beneath her and she collapsed forwards and then threw up in a long, agonizing series of retches, puking her guts out onto Parminder's little red wound, the vomit composed of those once full-lipped pussy parts, spattering onto the belly and inner thighs and cum-dripping gash, well, the gentlemen couldn't help but laugh.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
...oh yeah, and cannibalism.
-
PART FORTY-FIVE
BELLA'S BATH
(Contains mainly scat but lots of torture too.)
Bella was laid on the dinner table on her back, her head hanging off the edge so that Austin could throat-rape the bounteous brunette bimbo via her ring-gagged mouth. With each thrust, he berated her big breasts with a bamboo rod, delivering an unending series of bruising blows and provoking little moans from his victim that felt very good on his cock.
As he got into the short strokes, Austin swung harder than ever with his cane, targeting the dozy bitch's tender twat. Since Bella's legs were tied in a spread-wide position to the table's legs, she could do nothing about this, and had to simply accept the savage impacts on her vulnerable, recenlty-raped cunt.
Finally, with a long gasp, Austin emptied his balls into Bella's mouth, pulling out rapidly so he could enjoy the sight of his scalding cum pouring out over her inverted face, running up her nose and into her eyes... it gave him a really good chuckle.
It was at this point that Basil and Turk entered, dressed all in plastic overalls and masks and goggles...
"What a filthy mess," said Basil.
"Yeah, this dirty little cunt needs a bath," said Turk.
They untied her ankles and dragged her to her feet, leaving the gag in so that the cum continued to ooze, along with copious drool, from Bella's stretched mouth, dripping and dappling her big, reddened tits with glistening white droplets. But most of these were shaken loose as Bella's tits bounced on her way to the bathroom, frogmarched by the two plastic-coated gents.
Bella's heart sank when she realised they weren't taking her to the bathroom she'd been cleaned up in earlier that day, after helping disinterr Mollie from her grave. This was the bathroom whose tub had been used as a toilet every day for a week by all and sundry. It was now brimming with piss and shit.
Turk gripped her by the hair tightly and pushed her close to the unbelievably stinky morass. Then, with irresistible male strength, he started pushing her head down, her hairs nearly ripped from her scalp as he forced her to her knees, leaning over the side of the bath... Bella gasped in revulsion at the smell, and then at the sensation as her big hanging hooters, poked through the skin of the swamp, into the cold mixture of urine and faeces, Floating turds bobbed against her udders.
"MMMnnnnnggg-nnnnn!" she protested as her face drew closer and closer to the mire. She closed her eyes, the only thing she could do to protect herself. She couldn;t even close her mouth...
Turk, quite protected in his plastic gear, couldn't smell the offensive odour. Rubber glovers reaching almost to his shoulders protected his hands from the filth, as he ducked Bella's entire head under.
Liquid shit was lapping at Bella's lips, but her mouth was full of oxygen at least, holding back the flow of filthiness.
Until Basil kicked Bella hard in the cunt with his plastic-sheathed winkle-picker.
Bella screamed, producing big brown bubbles that burst on the surface of the shitpool, and suddenly her mouth was a vaccuum, and the shit was sucked in, filling her to the back of her throat and she began to drown in human excrement...
At which point, naturally enough, Basil kicked her in the cunt again.
After long seconds, Turk yanked Bella's head from the bath, the muck sucking at her like it dodn't want to let go. Her whole head was smeared in slimy shit, she couldn't open her eyes for it, great blobs of it were oozing through her hair. Her tits were painted with brown circles where they'd been under the surface, the nipples dripping with faecal matter, little morcels of crap dropping from her cheeks as her tears diluted the brown covering, so it spattered on the upper slopes of her heaving titties.
"Mmmmnugghh...uggghhhh...aacckkk..." retched Bella, expelling the shit from her mouth and throat so that that too poured down her naked front. But gag as she might, she couldn't get rid of the taste...
She had barely got her breath back when Turk ducked her again, only this time Basil took hold of her big bare butt, and lifted it, pushing it over the side of the tub so that Bella fell in completely. The gentlemen let her go then, just so the could enjoy the sight of their buxom plaything, rolling and thrashing in the sea of excreta, trying to get her balance on her ass so she could get her face out of the filth. But every time she tried grabbing the edge of the bath for balance, Turk rapped her on the knuckles with a heavy wooden pole, causing her to yelp, let go, and fall backwards, her face submerging to amusing effect, the shit and piss flowing into her mouth again...
Prodding the pole into Bella's breastbone, Turk now pushed hard, ramming the spluttering, big-titted posh bimbo down under the surface. The filthy liquid was just translucent enough that you could dimly see her face, cheeks bulging, air-bubbles slipping from between her pursed lips, as turds floated around her face and got entangled in her hair. When she could hold her breath no longer and a mass of bubbles leapt to the surface, Turk withdrew the rod and let Bella come up, choking on liquid shit, but once she'd just about cleared her windpipe of effluent, he pushed the rod into the base of her throat, just abobe the front of her collarbone, and pressed her back into the mire.
Bella felt an oozing pillow of shit beneath her head, getting mashed into her once-glossy locks... the pressure on her throat made it impossible to breathe and she was gulping piss like it was about to undergo Prohibition... Basil, meanwhile, had gotten his own stick, a sawed-off boathook. and slid the iron-tipped end between Bella's thighs...
Turk let the cunt come up for air again, and just as she took a lungful, Basil inserted the hook in her pussy and yanked as hard as he could. Bella screamed and went under again, immediately sucking a good fat turd into her mouth, as her pelvis was lifted out of the muck into the air by the hook tugging at her snatch. Again she grabbed for the sides of the tub, and again Turk bashed her on the knuckles, this time breaking a couple of small bones.
Then the two gentlemen jabbed and yanked at Bella's body - massive tits make a fine target for poking with a stick at bruising speed - and got her turned over onto her belly. The hook was reinserted into her aching little twat and hoist up, making her raise her ass up as a beautiful, if filthy target. Held on her elbows and knees by her hooked slit, the liquid faeces lapping at her chin, Bella had to endure a series of hard smacks on the ass from Turk's stick, then he pressed one end to the back of her head and savagely rammed her head under again.
Crushing her head against the bottom of the tub, her face pressed into a thick, soft silt of human excrement, Turk made it possible for Basil to unhook her now-bleeding cunt-hole, as there was no way for her to really lower her ass now anyway. Basil stirred the end of his boathook around in the stickiest part of the shit, then raised it and pressed the oozing hook against the beslimed lips of Bella's defenseless cunt.
Another great explosion of bubbles erupted from the quagmire as Bella screamed in response to Basil shoving the boathook nine inches deep in her interior, but no sooner had he done so than he withdrew the boathook, got it all stuck with crap again, and shoved it back in, getting the iron a good twelve inches up her twat this time.
Grabbing Bella's hair, Turk pulled her up so she could breathe again, as the worthless sow seemed to have lost either the strength or the will to lift her head. Thick brown fluid vomited from her mouth, and she began to inhale. So of course Turk had to duck her face into the poo, while Basil again got the boathook caked in excrement and shoved it into Bella's shit-stuffed quim with all his strength. Turk then positioned his own stick, suitably smeared with great globs of shit, at the puckered and much-raped entrance to Bella's asshole, and speared it in there as deep as the intruder in her cunt.
Only after both men had tugged their sticks about in all directions, tearing at Bella's holes, which were by now swimming in slime and feculence, did Turk allow the wretched cunt to draw another breath. She was barely able to.
But obviously they'd barely started, and the cunt had a lot more shit to eat...
Pulling the slut's hair so hard a fistful came out, Turk yanked her partway out of the tub so that one tit was in and the other out. Basil positioned the iron hook against her breast, the one which was laid against the rim of the bath, and bore down with all his weight. Bella screamed, albeit weakly, as her tit was cruelly crushed, the iron head of the hook sinking into the soft flesh with haemmhoraging power. At shich point Turk, laughing, scooped up a good solid handful of shit in one rubber-gloved hand and pressed it into the blubbering cunt's face.
"MMmmggnnff--glllb!!" protested Bella, comically.
"Chew and swallow, cunt, chew and swallow," chortled Basil, keeping up the pressure on her tit and also raising a pair of pliers to the nipple, seizing hold of it and simultaneously pinching, pulling and twisting.
Bella, though in agony, managed to masticate fairly efficiently, pulping the nasty filth in her mouth until it coated her teeth, palate and tongue in gooey, noxious paste, and gulping down great gobbets of it, without even a chance to retch.
Of course, what the dumb glutton hadn't calculated was that as soon as she swallowed one mouthful, Turk would stuff her pretty features with another. Between mouthuls, he would scoop up handfuls of piss and lett it pour into her shit-encrusted hair, over her forehead, into her eyes and mouth, down her tits....
There was more fun to be had. Turk smushed a great heap of turds into Bella's face, grinding it into her eyes, stuffing her nostrils and mouth and ears with it. Then, with Basil still pinning her to the hard edge of the tub by her titty, he raised his wooden stick high and smashed it down on that same tit.
WHOOF!
He was trying to burst the slut's udder!
He didn't quite succeed, but not for want of trying. After three wallops, Basil released the pressure on the tit and Bella sank back into a reclining position, the shit falling from her mouth to splatter like a great brown snowball between her tits, one of which was now starting to swell up to a size consdierably larger than it's mate's.
Now, laughing some more, Basil grabbed the whore's ankles and pulled them up, so that Bella slid under the surface again. With her pelvis now raised in the air, and the bimbo drowning in raw sewage again, Basil and Turk could get to work really doing a good job of packing the slut's fuckholes with shit. Handful's were pressed against her damaged cunt-hole and anus, and then shoved vigorously inside by rubber-coated fingers. The sticks could be used to jam it deeper.
Once both cunt and asshole were both stuffed to bursting point, which took some time, with Bella being given several chances to gulp at the air before submerging again, the gentlemen bound her to the handrails thoughtfully affixed around the bath, and prepared her final punishment. She was still sat in the swamp of sewerage, her arms pinned to the walls either side of her head, the hot and cold fawcets digging painfully into the small of her back and making her arch her spine, thrusting those bulbous tits out temptingly.
A goldfish-bowl-shaped headpiece, hinged at the sides, snapped around her head, the rubber rim at the bottom forming a watertight seal tight around her throat. An opening at the top allowed the gentlemen to ladle piss and shit from the tub into the headpiece. The brown and yellow liquid was soon lapping around Bella's chin. Then her mouth, lips clamped tight, was below the surface...
Of course, once her nostrils started emitting shitting bubbles into the repulsive fluid slopping about them, Bella had no option but to start hilariously glulping down the brown-flecked piss. The gentlemen laughed and started spooning in mushy turds, which slid down the hapless girl's face leaving ochre trails... As these piled up, Bella was forced to munch at them, weeping and begging in between mouthfuls.
"We'll get some of the others in to take over in a bit," giggled Basil. "We can keep this up all day!"
"If you get full, just release some of it from your bladder and bowels," grinned Turk. "It'll just go straight into your mouth, cunt. Like perpetual motion!"
Then, with Basil still pouring liquid shit upon the desperately masticating bimbo, Turk retired to the far end of the room and produced a set of lawn darts, which he proceeded to hurl into Bella's lovely tits. Each one that hit stuck there in her quivering tit-flesh, wobbling attractively. The points were so long and sharp, he might have killed her if he'd missed the soft targets and struck between her ribs, but luckily for Bella he was a good shot, the only outlier being one that sank into the muscle of her upper arm.
When all twelve darts had been throw, Basil awarded points for nearness to the nipples (one dart got a full bullseye for piercing the left aereola), then tugged them loose, releasing a series of bloody streams that flowed down Bella's shit-smeared torso into the filthy tub, and then he had a go, managing to do even better with TWO bullseyes...
Bella was forced to slobber down shit and piss for the next ten hours...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Dear Master Skuttrusk,
with glee I discovered your latest chapters after being absent from RU for over a month. I can’t understand that there weren’t any comments up to now.
So let’s change this in order to bless you with my ingenious cogitations…
To start with chapter 44 I don’t have to repeat that Parminder has always been my favorite among your girls. Therefore I was looking forward to her ordeal which you announced earlier in your story. Finally reading about her genital mutilation was the long awaited culmination ! I really appreciated the detailled description of the ongoing obliteration of Parminder’s pussy. That was excellent ! I could almost feel the good doctor’s scalpel between my own legs…
But at this point, I’m afraid, I have to apply some criticizm:
Drawing the doctor’s work so captivating, I missed some more descriptions about Parminder’s reactions ! This gruesome operation has to produce such extraordinary pain of the victim that every sadist wants to feed on this excruciating agony ! I would have loved to get more feedback about Parminders desparate struggle with the all consuming pain ! This might have intensified my climax by another 100 %.
But apart from that I loved the way Dr. Sade not only cut off Parminder’s clit in a quick slice but prolonged the destruction by flaying away the little nub in merest slivers. That was dope !
Serving the morsels to Carrie was ingenious, too.
As far as your chapter 45 is concerned, I’m well aware that not too many readers are perverted like me to enjoy scatology to that extent.
But I don’t give a shit about that (please excuse my vulgar pun). This was absolutely awesome ! Forced scat is sending shivers up and down my spine. Your narration of these disgusting and repulsive events brought me over the edge not only once… I feel ashamed writing this publicly but I extremely loved these chapters.
So if there aren’t any other positive comments up to now, I was the one who appreciated this 100 % !
Merit earned !
Yours thankfully
Kadira :emot_kiss.gif:
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Returning to the group after an enforced absence, through illness - yes, that illness, sadly. It was perhaps, inevitable, given my occupation and involvement in a group actively employed in management and observation of processes to defeat the disease, as well as ridiculously long hours and little rest - a note to self that I am not as young as I once was (though by no means aged!).
To the story - the infibulation of Parminder was monstrously depicted and enacted - true wickedness, and I appreciate this greatly, skuttrusk. You are a true master of the genre.
Scat isn’t my thing, but still, the sheer humiliation of bovine Bella, as well as the beatings and breast torture, was wonderfully done.
How to progress and maintain such quality? Hmmmmm. That is the question. Still I have no doubt that you are not more than up to the task, sir.
Who is next, I wonder?
Personally, I’d still like to see angela end up back in an even more extreme Super-Robo Wars show, where she has no hope of escape and - with those altered feet - little hope is avoiding the terrible things waiting to be done to her (perhaps even as a super finale, for the character...?)
We shall see.
Superb work, skutt. Simply superb.
Tars
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So sorry you've been ill. I guess the one good thing is you PROBABLY can't catch it again.
Am determined that my next installment shall be the most extreme yet, I hope you'll enjoy it, those readers left to me!
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PART FORTY-SIX
FOREPLAY TO MURDER
Contains rape, brutality, cutting, ageplay and a whole lot of fun.
So, for the rest of that day...
Parminder, bound to the bed, was raped non-stop. Each of the gentlemen wanted to sample her newly-mutilated cunt, knowing they were causing the asian bitch unbelievable pain with every thrust, and even after each of them had enjoyed the experience of raping a circumcised pussy, they were keen to come back for more, just to keep the poor slut in a state of suffering. They even removed her gag so she could beg for mercy, which she did quite shamelessly, offering them all sorts of disgusting, perverted services including ass-licking and piss-drinking, which the gentlemen certainly took her up on, without, however, allowing her a single minute's relieve from the constant pounding of her sore, stitched-up slit...
Bella was in the bathroom, helplessly gulping down piss and shit to keep herself from drowning. The gentlemen took it in shifts spooning the shit into her so she never had a moment's rest and was kepy imbibing filth all day...
Dr. Petersen had been busy implanting fresh hypnotic commands into the cunts' so-called minds. Rachel the Slit being the easiest to brainwash, he'd given her the most instructions...
Turk set up his tattoo shop in the Group Therapy Room...
Molly had been badly beaten by George, so Dr. Sade re-set her pretty little nose, which caused her fresh pain. Soon her was raping her tight teenage twat, gripping her retroussee nose and squeezing it painfully with each thrust. Her pussy contracted with pain each time he tweaked her, making the whole experience very enjoyable... for him, anyway....
*
Watching on her huge wall monitor, FUX TV exec Suki Chung frigged herself as she enjoyed the live rape show, a petite black girl licking at her asshole. Suki was sat, legs splayed, on a plastic chair with a hole in the bottom so that the glossy-skinned, high-breasted girl chained at her feet could lap and tongue at her anus.
"Wow," said Lea, hobbling in on her crutches. After she suffered crippling injuries on the set of Robo-Warriors, Lea had been kept in a state of constant pain and disability by her boss, as a means of maintaining her loyalty - only Suki could dispense the painkillers which caused brief respite from the agony of smashed limbs and torn muscles. Lea was so in thrall to her boss and so addicted to causing suffering in the name of great rape TV that the torture was hardly necessary - but it amused Suki.
"She's a little young, isn't she, even by your standards?" asked Lea, sizing up the little slut worming her tongue up Suki's tight sphincter. "She's hardly even got tits." The young girl glanced piteously at Lea, but didn't dare stop tonguing the butthole above her.
"I was originally interested in her mother," smiled Suki, teasing her clit. "But then when I saw this little teenage temptress I just HAD to have her. The mom wouldn't sell, so I had her arrested... that uppity cunt is being anally reamed by a team of musclebound bull dykes at Ravisham Correctional Facility as we speak. They're going elbow-deep, I hear. Meanwhile I am legal guardian of this cute little piece of brown twat. Anyway, to get virgin pussy and assholes nowadays, you practically have to go pre-teen..."
The little black slut continued slobbering on the slick, taut pucker, stifling a sob. Lea smirked.
"How's life at PORCC?" she asked , nodding to the screen, where Molly was still being pounded in the People's Own Rape Crisis Centre.
"Pretty entertaining," said Suki. Too bad we can't broadcast it. Some of the best rape and torture ever, and just because one of the cunts snuffed it, we can't air the good stuff..."
"Good thing we weren't going out live," said Lea. "Nobody objects much to rape and abuse, but the law still takes a dim view of cunts getting snuffed."
"What we need is a strong public interest angle," said Suki, gesturing to the floor before her chair. "And I don't just mean 'interesting to the public. This succulent teenage rapetoy getting her cute little nose pinched would qualify for that... We need something sensational and important..."
Grunting with pain, Lea lowered herself to her knees and prepared to eat out her employer. The young, lithe, glistening black girl gazed at her hopelessly for a second before busying herself again with Suki's shithole.
*
"No, please!" begged Carrie. "Don't leave me alone with him!"
The buxom blonde, newly tarted-up in suspenders and stockings and high heels and a tiny apron and nothing else, was cowering in the kitchen, the massive frame of George, the nation's most violent and mentally degraded rapist, filling the doorframe.
"Oh, don't be shy, Carrie," laughed Alicia, relishing her power as she always did when one of the cunts begged. "George just wants to help you with the dishes..."
Alicia moved behind George as he lurched into the tiny kitchen. "George just want to help clean up," said George, grinning through colossal broken teeth.
"A-alright, George..." whimpered Carrie, picking up a dish from the soapy sink and handing it to George. "I'll wash and you d-d-dty..."
Alicia watched with pleasure. Carrie always turned white with terror when George paid her any attention, and while one really ought to feel some sort of pity, the sight of Carrie suffering in any way was always deliciously exciting. For instance, her expression as George took the plate, pressed it in his toweled hands, and shattered it into fragments, that was a picture to behold.
Carrie, imagining just what those bearlike paws could do to her frail body, fumbled in the sink for something else to distract the massive brute with. She handed him an official PORCC mug, inscribed with a cheerful pink heart and the caption I'VE BEEN RAPED! George took the cup tenderly, and crushed it to powder in his muscular mitts.
Carrie gulped with difficulty. Christian was now standing in the doorway, enjoying the show. The way Carrie's boobs trembled behind her little apron was adorable. It just made you want to rape her ass and beat the shit out of the stupid little slut. Turk appeared in the doorway, too, grinning.
Carrie grabbed the next thing she found in the sink and thrust it towards George, only to realize with wide-eyed bimbo horror that it was a large steak knife, glistening, wet, a few foamy bubbles dripping from its steel surface.
George reached for it. Carrie had a second to decide whether to hand it over meekly or stick it in his ribs. She made the wrong decision, silly cunt. Actually, there was no right decision. She gave a little thrust and squeaked, "Stay away!"
George, quick as lightning, grabbed Carrie's wrist, and squeezed. The knife dropped from her suddenly strengthless fingers and landed in his other hand. Still gripping her forearm, causing her hand to throb, George reached out with the knife...
The blade slowly caressed Carrie's cheek... her eyes, bulging in complete panic, followed its path down her throat, the razor-sharp blade only just nicking the skin ever-so-slightly, really the most delicate work George could be capable off. With a quick flick, George severed the apron string that circled the back of Carrie's neck, allowing the top of the apron to fall away, fully exposing those lovely breasts, now heaving with emotion.
The knife now stroked Carrie's collarbone, moved down to the snowy slope of her right titty... Carrie stared as the blade pressed on her pink nipple, which hardened in response to the metallic touch. Smiling crookedly, George slid the knife under the breast, and gave it a little jiggle.
"Jelly on a plate!" laughed Turk, as Carrie's boob bounced on the flat of the blade, very much like a pink, delicious dessert...
The knife moved lower and SNICK! The apron=string was severed at the waist and the pathetic little garment fell at Carrie's stiletto-heeled feet. With no panties, she was now nicely nude and very vulnerable looking. The knife hovered at her crotch...
"Please..." begged Carrie, her big blue eyes glistening with tears... The tip of the blade pricked at her pussy lips.
George thought how much fun it would be to ram this dagger right into this whore's cunt and slice her open from loins to chops, her slut guts spllling on the tiled floor, but the he thought of his cock, which needed to be buried in unwilling snatch, and right away. He gave a twist to Carrie's wrist - there was a snapping sound.
"Yow!" giggled Christian.
Carrie, already pale with fear, turned completely bloodless as she saw her wrist turn in a direction it shouldn't, her hand jutting out at a crazy angle. George released her wrist and she continued to goggle at it, the hand sticking off to one side like that.
Now his hand was free, George let Carrie have a good slap in the face, propelling her backwards into the kitchen cupboards, one door cracking as the back of her head hit it.
George had his massive cock out while Carrie was still teetering on her heels, and when she began to fall forward he caught her by the slender throat and hoist her up, singlehanded, before slamming her down onto his angry shaft.
Carrie would have screamed as the monster prong speared her, but only managed a "Glup!" such was the pressure on her throat.
More and more of the gentlemen were gathering in and around the doorway to enjoy Carrie's terror and distress (only Austin remained in the bathroom, making sure Bella kept swallowing her filthy repast as he twisted her sore nipples with pliers). Enjoying the appreciative audience, George marched around the kitchen, bouncing the lissome blonde on his erect monster-member, transferring his grip from her throat to her hair so that her sobbing could be more clearly heard. Carrie's body jounced and jiggled, her legs kicking helplessly and her tits shaking so much she was lucky to escape getting two black eyes.
Remembering he still held the knife, George drew it across Carrie's left breast, two inches above the nipple, making a slender cut, just for the pleasure of seeing the crimson blood stain the lily-white slope, rivulets parting around that hard, bruised nipple to flow down the underside of the jiggling tit and then down her flat abdomen towards her pussy, stretched around the unbelievable shaft of his prick in a way it was not designed for save in childbirth. Being raped by George was as painful as giving birth without anesthesia...
Carrie was hysterical with pain and fear, convinced George was going to murder her as the climax of his bestial assault. Although she knew deep down that it was impossible for his cock to tear through her insides and rape her womb, that's certainly what it felt like, and such was her agony and dread that her mind, never the sharpest instrument (a poor comparison to the knife slicing once more at her tit) couldn't figure out that the awful pain was merely the stretching of her pussy walls to bursting point...
Seeing an opening, as it were, Turk slid in behind Carrie and shoved his steel-studded dick into her ass, letting George's bouncing movements drive the vicious weapon in with three hard shoves. More blood flood, trickling pleasingly over Turk's balls as his shaft tore up Carrie's barely-healed asshole.
George, enjoying the blood, pressed the blade edge to Carrie's throat - fortunately for her, he stopped bouncing her so hard, so she was just impaled on his cock, feeling that any second his glans would appear at the back of her throat, having stabbed through her entire body/ The knife made the tiniest nick, Carrie gulped, and he was rewarded with the delicious sight of another red trickle running down to her collarbone, where it was diverted aside so it ran down her breastbone directly between her two luscious titties.
Carrie, still feeling the knife against her throat, did something she'd been too scared to do until now. She looked into George's eyes.
And saw Death.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
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Very nice continuation!
Parminder should be thankful to the good doctor that he has tightened her up again. Now the diligent gentlemen can enjoy her loose opening again.
However they should take care of her rear entrance in a similar way…
Sweet Bella amused me a lot with her feeding. I wonder how long she can endure this treatment.
But as far as Carrie is concerned I love her pretty outfit. :emot_thedrool.gif:
I hope George doesn't let himself get carried away because a cut throat would spoil too much fun.
Let's hope there is more to come for this sexy bimbo ;D
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Thanks! I think my next episode should satisfy both snuff fans and those who want Carrie's suffering to be endless, as of course it should be. :)
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Any chances there will be more of Angela in the next one?
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Soon, soon. I have plans for that redheaded cunt...
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PART FORTY-SEVEN
CARRIE GETS THE KNIFE
Contains snuff, necrophilia, rape, brutality, ageplay and raceplay.
Carrie stared into George's eyes like a rabbit, or maybe a bunny girl, in the headlights of an oncoming monster truck. Her baby blues watered and widened and she knew, just knew, he was going to kill her.
"Please -" she began.
SLICE! George drew the kitchen knife in a straight line under her chin and Carrie's vision seemed to turn red as a spray burst from her throat to hit George full in his grinning face.
"Jesus Christ -" began Alicia, before the arterial spurt hit her too. In seconds she was soaked, her smart business blouse clinging to her pert little tits as it turned pink.
Austin rushed in. "I didn't miss it?"
"Just in time," said Basil.
Turk, still buggering Carrie enthusiastically, gave George a big thumbs up as he kept ramming his shaft into her tattered anus.
George was sawing enthusiastically now, cutting through gristle and blood vessels. Carrie could only gurgle. The whole front of her naked body was red with gushing lifesblood, her tits an awesome sight as they thrashed wetly with each spasm of her body.
The knife made gross, squelching and tearing noises as it carved her neck...
Suddenly, everything shifted and there was a clunk. Carrie blinked and found herself looking up, up at one bare foot, then up the bare leg, streaked with grue, up to the torso, the pussy currently being destroyed by one monster dick as another ripped up the asshole. It was only when Carrie saw the shoulders, and the bloody stump of a slender neck, that she was able to realize she was looking at her own decapitated corpse.
Everything shifted. She saw Basil and Christian, looking down at her in awe, big grins on their faces.
"Is she -?" asked Christian.
"She bloody is!" yelled Basil. "Still conscious, for a few seconds anyhow!"
There was no question what had to be done. Basil prized open Carrie's slack jaws and shoved his cock down her throat.
Carrie gagged on it. Bubbles of blood and pink foam flecked her lips as Basil enthusiastically raped her throat.
Alicia was still staring, paralysed with shock, as the head of Basil's cock emerged from Carrie's severed throat.
Basil's cum filling her mouth and splashing on her face was the last thing Carrie felt in her life.
*
"WOW!" declared Suki, cumming hard into Lea's face. Lea was trying to eat Suki's cunt while watching the TV at the same time, no easy task.
"Just what we've been waiting for!" cried Suki, jumping up and sending Lea sprawling. "Send the news crew! A homicide is public interest! This is just the angle we need to broadcast the whole lot! Every lovely second of rape, torture and mutilation!"
Lea staggered to the phone. "Get that dozy cunt Holly Goodish round to PORCC immediately! This is the greatest thing to happen since Weinstein raped Rose McGowan!"
"Greater!" cried Suki. "There was no camera there to see THAT little creampie, more's the pity!"
*
Then the perspective shifted again. Carrie was looking down on the whole scene. She could see Basil wiping his cum off on her blonde locks, then tossing her severed head aside. And George and Turk going into their short strokes, pumping their seed into her lifeless but still twitching form. Carrie wondered how long it would keep spasming. She thought of chickens running around with their heads cut off, and wondered if her body would do that if only the gentlemen would stop raping it.
Then she held her hands before her face. They were white and luminous and slightly translucent. She kicked her bare legs, and they were the same.
She was a ghost! Or a spirit, a soul, or something. Oh well, at least she still existed, somewhat.
"Jesus fucking Christ..." Alicia was saying.
"Well, it probably was for the best, you know," Christian sympathised. "Her therapy really wasn't getting anywhere."
Turk and Basil and Dr. Petersen and Dr. Sade laughed heartily at that one.
"Let's take the body though," said Sade.
Dripping blood from the severed neck and cum from the slack fuckholes, Carrie's corpse was slung over George's shoulder and carried through to the group therapy room - and Carrie felt a weird yanking at her spectral innards, and found herself floating after them, like she was still magnetically linked to her body. Her head, it seemed, was an irrelevance, in death as in life.
She shut her eyes in alarm as her path sent her rushing into the wall, but she passed through it smoothly, like light through a window, and found herself in the Group Therapy Room with the other cunts, as she had learned to think of them. All were bound, arms behind their backs, ankles together, some clad in revealing scraps of clothing like the impossibly short plaud skirt on Mollie, with the halter top that exposed the lower slopes of her small, ripe breasts, and the rubber waistcoat on Spunkholes (what had her name been?) with the two holes through which her big boobs jutted, or the Irish bonnet tilted at a cute angle on Angela's head.
At first Carrie was puzzled that none of the cunts reacted to her headless corpse being carried in, but then they realized that her injuries were masked by George's body. All the cunts could see was her butt and her long legs. Her butt did look rather large, she reflected ruefully.
Then George tipped the cadaver off his shoulder and the pale form was draped over the back of the long couch and most of the cunts started screaming. Not Parminder, whose eyes were mostly swollen shut and who was not, on the whole, likely to be very responsive ever again from the look of her, and not Angela, who just stared in horror, and not Rachel the Slit, who just stared ahead with vacant robot eyes, but Mollie and Spunkholes let out a terrific noise and Bella, who was gagged with some kind of rubber gag which was leaking brown fluid down her chin, did her best to scream, which involved heaving her big titties and blasting brown bubbles from her nostrils.
Then the gentlemen sprang intp action, dragging the various cunts over to the couch and throwing them over the back of it so they were ass-up, the way they had been when first subdued on day on. Bella found herself hanging upside down next to Carrie's headless upper torso, the liquid shit from her gag seething forth from her nostrils and blinding her. Mollie was on the stiff's other side, equally hysterical. Then Spunkholes, then Angela, then Parminder.
"Okay, gentlemen, I think it's time we were leaving. You know what to do, Slit?" said Christian, and the Slit nodded blankly.
"Jesus Christ," Alicia was still saying, looking from her own blood-drenched tits to Carrie's corpse, which was giving her a delightful view of its oozing cunt and asshole.
"Yes, you stick around, Alicia," said Christian. "I'm sure you can explain everything adequately." A low WHUDDA-WHUDDA-WHUDDA sound was becoming audible.
"George, I'm afraid you have to stay too," said Christian.
"Is OK. George knows he go back to prison," grinned George. "George had fun here. Enjoy raping cunts, killing cunts."
"You're a fine fellow," said Christian. "I'll send you a pretty social worker."
The gentlemen filed out.
Alicia was alone for a few seconds, listening to the THUDDA-THUDDA sound fade. A helicopter, of course. The gentlemen would soon be far away, leaving her to face...
The door burst open and what seemed like an army of cops crashed in, firearms raised. With them were a FUX TV camera crew with presenter Holly Goodish, a big-titted, inanely grinning cunt holding a dildo microphone.
"Welcome gentlemen," said the Slit, with the robotic manner of a salesperson. "I'm sorry you missed most of the fun but you can watch the grand finale."
She walked up to where Bella's ass was helplessly upthrust and removed from a box a large red rocket-shaped fire cracker, and jammed it into Bella's capacious ass. Bella made a small "Eep!" which was at least a change from her screaming. Then another "Eep!" as she got a second rocket between her cunt lips. Both were shoved in deep so just the bases, with their unlit fuses, protruded.
"What in the -?" gawped Constable Bob. But he wasn't about to intervene, this was an awesome sight.
Carrie's dead holes next received a pair of rockets of their own, prompting to response, of course. The twitching had long stopped.
Unseen by all, hovering at ceiling height, Carrie's spirit watched, a bit indignant at this rude treatment of her mortal remains. Was nobody going to stop this.
Apparently not, because next the hapless teenager Mollie received her rockets, moaning piteously as her recently-repaired cunt and ass were stretched wide by rigid, unyielding intrusions.
Then Spunkholes, who yelped, Parminder, who remained silent, then Angela who shouted "OW! What the fuck, girl?"
Then Rachel, who the cops couldn't help but notice sported a sticking plaster in place of one nipple, inserted a rocket into her own snatch and then another, with some gritting of teeth, into her asshole.
"Enjoy the fireworks, folks," she smiled, and lit a Zippo, moving along the row of ass-up sluts, lighting each fuse, before taking her place at the end of the row, bending over to present her holes to the TV cameras and cops, her own fuses fizzing merrily...
Someone MUST stop this, thought Carrie.
"Well, huh, I suppose we'd better intervene," mused Constable Bob.
"Oh come on, now," said Detective Nisha with a dazzling grin, "Surely you're just a little curious?"
Bob scratched his head thoughtfully.
FZZZZSSSSSSS....
"And anyway," chuckled Nisha, "Don't you know you should never approach a lit firework?"
Everyone decided to just enjoy the show.
"This is going to be AWESOME," said Holly Goodish, with a giggle that made her absurd but natural tits jiggle.
"For God's sake," yelled Angela, "Somebody help us!" Her voice broken into a shriek at the end of the sentence. Some of the other cunts joined her, crying for rescue as the fuses burned shorter...
"Nearly there..." giggled Holly into the camera, which quickly panned to the row of quivering arses with sparkling fuses sticking out.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
When the smoke cleared, the arses were still there, only smoke-blackened and charred around the fuckholes. The screams died down into sobs. The cops moved in.
Bella was dragged to her feet - really, she had to be held up by two cops as her legs refused to perform. Through her tears, she saw Constable Bob sizing her up.
"Very nice. Good pair of udders on it. What's your story?" he said.
"I-I-I've been r-r-raped!" sobbed Bella.
"Flaunting a pair of funbags like that, I'm not surprised," Bob said with a laugh. Reaching out, he honked one bruised and bloody breast. Then, to the cops holding Bella (who began to cop feels also), "Better get her to hospital. We can drop by later and take her... statement." He winked to the lads and they began to drag Bella away, moaning.
But Holly Goodish, determined to (1) get the story (2) have a laugh at Bella's expense and (3) delay her receiving much-needed medical attention, stepped in, blocking her exit. Jim, her cameraman, tilted up Bella's legs, got a good closeup of her still-smoldering pussy, then her punctured and bruised titties, then her distressed face.
"You must be Bella Bottomley. I'm Holly Goodish of FUX News [giggle]. I understand you've been held capitive, raped and tortured for a week. How do you feel?"
"Horrible!" wept Bella. "They beat me and raped me and threw darts at my boobs made me eat shit..."
The men holding Bella up began to laugh. Holly koined them.
"Oh, poor you. But you know, Bella, you mustn't say 'shit' on TV. That earns you a punishment [giggle]." Holly nodded to each of the cops holding Bella up. They drew their nightsticks.
"Wh-what? I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" began Bella, but then -
WHUMP! One cop swung his stick into her soft belly, doubling her up.
CRACK! The other cop let her have it in the face. Bella straiightened up, haring flying, bloody gushing from her crushed nose.
Holly cheerfully spat in Bella's face and giggled as the limp fuckmeat was dragged away.
Jim panned over to where two cops were litting Carrie's corpse from the couch, and discovering, with a mixture of shock and amusement, the missing head.
"Wow," said Detective Nisha. She pointed to a subordinate. "See if you can find the top bit." She looked over to the corner of the room where the hulking George Brandon, and the svelte Alicia Sweeney were standing, both drenched in blood. Nisha walked over.
George was calm, perhaps even sleepy after his murderous rampage. Alicia looked deeply anxious.
"Well, I think we can see who's responsible for this mess," said Nisha, looking up at the gargantuan George. Then she grabbed Alicia by the front of her bloody blouse and punched her hard in the mouth.
Alicia fell, her blouse tearing open to reveal her small, pert tits in a blood-soaked white lacey bra.
"Off you go, George," said Nisha with a wink, and two prison officials took George back into custody. "I hope you enjoyed your week's compassionate release," said Nisha to him, then kicked Alicia in the ribs. "Guys, maybe you'd better take this cunt to one of the bedrooms and see what you can... extract from her."
Nisha sauntered back to the couch as seven cops descended on Alicia, who was beginning to protest weakly as they ripped off her clothes and bundled her out of the room. Nisha slammed the hall door on them so her cries wouldn't be a distraction.
Carrie's corpse had been laid on the couch, forcing the other cunts, still bound and bent over, to stare at it. But now Mollie was lifted away by the cops and dragged in front of Bob and Nisha.
"Well, well, if it isn't little Mollie Perkinson," smiled Bob, cupping the teenager's hairless cunt, which was red and throbbing from its recent firecracker explosion. Molly moaned and writhed in the cops' grasp as Bon fingered her, not too gently.
"What a tasty piece of teen twat," said Nisha with a delicious grin. She loved to see pretty girls suffer. Her pussy was soaking, she could barely stand, she was fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together around her sopping slit. She cupped one of Mollie's perfect, pointy breasts and tweaked the nipple, making the girl wince. "How old is this cunt?"
"She may be technically a little young," said Bob, shoving a third finger into Mollie's blistered snatch, "But that doesn't usually stop anyone making use of those tight fuckholes..."
"Fine. Juvenile detention centre for this one," ruled Nisha. And, as the cops dragged Mollie off, she gave the girl a playful-but-hard smack on her delicious bouncing derriere as she passed.
Holly and her crew stepped in again to interview Mollie.
"Hi, Mollie. We understand you spent a week buried alive. How was that?"
Mollie's beautiful young face screwed up in anguish. "It was awful..."
"Yes," nodded Holly, "You must have felt terrible, missing out on all that lovely RAPING. Still, Ravisham Juvenile Detention Centre is co-ed, so I imaging the boys there will help you catch up! Not no mention all those big, beefy guards, eh? [giggle]"
Mollie wailed, and was hauled away.
Next up was the big-titted nineteen-year-old with the tragic look.
"Chloe Titmuss?" said Nisha as the girl was dragged, jiggling and weeping, before them.
"Th-there m-must be some m-mistake," said Chloe. "My name is Spunkholes. My name has always been S-Spunkholes. My sister was Cumguzzler but she's d-dead. They r-raped her to d-death."
"Death by misadventure," Nisha ruled, "Not our problem. Anyone want to claim this cunt?"
"Property of FUX TV," piped up Lea, hobbling on on her crutches. "I'll take her back to the station."
"She looks like she needs serious medical attention," said Nisha, eyeing the broken slut before her.
"Yes, and I'll see to it personally," said Lea, "that she doesn't get it. Come on, whore."
Chloe/Spunkholes just barely managed to stagger after Lea, but was stopped by Holly for the usual interview/humiliation.
"Hiya Spunkholes! You look like a brainless twat. I really can't blame anyone for raping and beating the shit out of YOU!" she burbled.
"But th-they killed my s-sister," wept the hapless set of fuckholes.
"Oh boo-hoo, nobody cares about your slut sister," snapped Holly, slapping her interviewee across the face. "With her fuckholes ruined she wasn't exactly much use to anyone, was she? You, on the other hand, might be worth a rapist's time, if he was blind, crippled - and mentally retarded, like you!" Holly laughed uproariously and slapped Chloe's tits a few times, before letting Lea collar the slut and lead her off on a leash. On her way out of PORCC, Chloe passed throngs of cops, journalists and general members of the public who all groped her big sore tits, her ass-cheeks, and stuck fingers into her scorched vagina and anus...
Next up, two cops grabbed Parminder and dragged her broken body before Nisha and Bob. The Indian beauty, barely recognizable with her smashed features, was still somehow desirable, even though her face mainly displayed bloody woujnds and swelling. Nisha reached out and cupped one of the pert, bruised, gashed breasts, and squeezed it experimentally. Parminder , though barely conscious, rewarded her with a low moan..
"Well, I think immigration can handle this piece of trash," said Bob, making a fist. Nisha stepped aside to give him room, and he swung that meaty fist into the girl's soft, flat stomach. Parminder groaned again, and tried to double up, but she was held in place by the cops.
"Take her to immigration," said Nisha. "And we don't particularly care what condition she arrives in." She grinned and gave the two cops a wink. They grinned back, and dragged Parminder up to the FUX News camera.
"Well, I doubt there's much chance getting a statement out of THIS cunt," declared Holly, eyeing the ravaged remains before her. "Does it even speak English, I wonder?" She grabbed Parminder's lustrous but filth-encrusted black hair and yanked her sagging head into an erect position so the camera could look in her eyes. A few hard slaps even got the eyes to flutter open. "Hey, cunt," snapped Holly, but with a smile. "Got any words for the superior male audience? Want to bleat and sob about how you've been raped and HORRIBLY beaten, cunt?"
Incredibly, Parminder's swollen lips seemed to try to form a word...
"What's that, Paki cunt?" demanded Holly.
"Pleasssse..." gasped Parminder.
"Brown bitches shouldn't speak unless they're spoken to," snapped Holly, bringing her knee up sharply into Parminder's swollen and exposed cunt. Parminder, already having received considerable violence to her lovely genitals, including the fracturing of her pubic bone, received the blow with an appropriate moan and writhing. Holly's knee came away bloody, too, which was quite satisfying to see.
Parminder was hauled away to begin her indefinite detention, to be followed, presumably, by expulsion to her native land where much worse treatment would be meted out... Holly laughed as she watched the shapely buttocks receive a thousand pinches from the crowd she was dragged off into.
Nisha was laughing too. Though of Indian origin also, she had no objection to a bit of race-baiting as long as the victim was female and fuckable...
But now Angela S- was before her, wincing as the guards dragged her by her slender arms and forced her to support some of her weight on her mutilated little feet. At the sight of the Irish celebrity rape-toy, Bob was almost drooling.
"Well, well, well..." he murmured.
"Officers, I want to report multiple rapes and two murders," said Angela. She had little real hope these obviously corrupt pervs would listen to her, but she was determined to try. "I have partial names and full descriptions of the sadists responsible. They include Dr. Sade and Dr. Petersen, both employees of FUX TV, a tattoo artist called Turk who has a parlour by the shore, a creep called Austin, a rich guy called Christian, mnnfff mmffgg..."
Nisha had slapped a hand over Angela's mouth.
"I suppose this one is property of FUX too," she said, "but I assume you and the boys would like to throw her a little rape party before we hand her over?"
Bob nodded eagerly.
"You'll want to use some lube, her holes are pretty badly charred," observed Nisha, crouching and examining Angela's blackened cunt and asshole. She stuck a finger into the smoking rectum.
"OW! Fuck!" cried Angela, no longer gagged.
"Yup, dry as the Gobi. And still hot! Still, we've all seen the beatings she takes on TV, this little cunt is tough. I wonder what it would take to inflict irreparable damage?"
"Let's find out," said Bob, and blasted Angela in the face with his pepper spray.
Blinded, Angela screamed, but the sound was cut off by a sharp blow to her left tit from nisha's nightstick. Bob grabbed the smoke-blackened area between her pale thighs and he and his boys carried her, struggling weakly, off to a bedroom.
Watching wide-eyed from the ceiling, Carrie sighed. "Poor Angela, I could have told her, it doesn't do to make a fuss," she said to herself. "Nobody likes a tattle-tale." As the jolly gang swept Angela away, she heard one of them say, "This bitch is starting to sprout a little cunt hair. Needs waxing," and another replied, to loud laughter, "I'll burn the hairs off with my lighter!"
"You bast-" began Angela, and got a good smack in the mouth.
"Silly Angela!" thought Carrie's spirit. "She's really going to get used hard. Serves her right!" she found herself adding, because Angela really hadn't been very nice to her. She tried to swim through the air to follow Angela and watch what was done to her, but she seemed unable to get far away from her dead body. But she could hear well enough...
"OWWWWWW! Stop it! That BURNS!" SMACK! SOCK! POW! "Waaaaaahhh!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Meanwhile, the last of the cunts, Racel the Slit, had gotten up from the couch of her own volition and walked up to Nisha.
"How may this cunt please you?" she asked, and made an "ahegao" face, rolling her eyes up vapidly in her head and letting her tongue hang from an open mouth, hands up like the paws of a begging puppy.
Nisha stared in wonderment at the fuckmeat before her. Then, as the Slit made no further move, she reached out and ripped the sticking plaster from the pert titty it covered, exposing the scabbed wound where the nipple had been cut off.
"Fuck, What happened here?" asked Nisha.
"I cut my teat off," replied Rachel, perkily.
"Why?"
"Oh, no reason. I suppose because I'm a cunt."
Nisha snorted a laugh. "And if I told you to cut the other one off?"
Rachel took hold of the intact nipple and twisted it, hard. She winced, but replied brightly, "I will do anything you say or anything anyone else says. I can rip my clit off if you like."
Nisha was tempted, but she had more work to do. "Run along, cuntmeat. I'm sure you'll find some people out there with some very clear instructions for a piece of ass like you."
Rachel the Slit smiled and jogged off, tits and ass bouncing appealingly.
Of course, Holly Goodish stopped her for an interview.
"What can you tell us about what happened here, slut?"
"I am the Slit, but I am also a slut. Some cunts got raped and tortured here. It was very good. We all deserved it. In fact, we all deserve to suffer a lot more! Would you like to make me suffer?"
"What a question!" giggled Holly, and punched the braindead whore hard in the stomach. Hollyw was surprisingly strong for a big-titted bimbo, and the Slit doubled up in pain.
"Thank you... very much..." she gasped, straightening up, and departed. She vanished in the throng, hands grabbing her tits, ass and snatch from every angle, cigarettes hissing as they were stubbed out on her remaining nipple.
A cop entered, carrying Carrie's severed head by a knot of the long, blonde hair. The eyes were rolled up the way the Slit had made hers go, the mouth was hanging up and cum dripped from the distended tongue.
"Take the dead cunt to the morgue," said Nisha. "See if anyone wants to claim it. I can imagine somebody might have a use for it..." The cops and medics laughed.
Carrie's spirit found herself drifting away as if tied to her corpse by invisible strings, so she missed the rest of the Alicia and Angela's raping, which was a shame. All she got instead was the opportunity to watch a necrophile morgue attendant rape her headless corpse, plus the sight of the coroner sewing her head back on, and finally the sight of Turk turning up to claim the body...
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
PART FORTY-EIGHT (a)
AFTERMATH: BELLA
This chapter, dealing with what happens to each of the characters in the days following the rape-off, will be delivered in bite-seized sections (picture the nipple of a helpless, bound girl)
*
Bella was, unfortunately, wide awake.
The treatments she had received in hospital had been excrutiatingly painful but, as Dr. Throttle had patiently explained, there was a shortage of painkillers and there was no sense wasting them on a silly slut who got herself raped. In fact, the good doctor had included in his ministrations several drugs which heightened the body's pain response and prevented unconsciosuness. Thus, Bella had been awake for four days and nights, squirming in her restraints as Throttle and his expert team repaired her beautiful, curvaceous body.
"First-degree burns to the lining of the vagina and asshole," he chuckled. "I've never seen such a thorough job. Fortunately, we can do amazing work with grafts nowadays. I'll harvest the skin from your inner thighs and treat it so that it adapts to mimic your cunt and asshole. A little surgical tightening at the same time and you'll be as good as virginal... and your sensitivity will be increased too... it's going to really HURT the first few hundred times you take a dick in either of these fuckholes, m'dear..."
Of course, the doctor wanted to test the efficacy of his work as soon as possible, which meant, as it turned out, inviting a bunch of dirty homeless men in off the street to rape Bella both vaginally and anally,
The good doctor was right: it hurt like hell. As Bella, with tears in her eyes, licked the filth-encrusted asshole of the tramp who titty-fucked her, the surgical clamp crushing her nipples and labia, all she could really concentrate on was the searing agony of the cocks punishing each of her openings.
"Hmm, a little tearing of the perineum," said Throttle with a smile, "But we'll soon fix that."
He threaded a long, curved needle...
TO BE CUNT-INUED)
-
PART 48
THE AFTERMATH (b)
Alicia lay naked on the cold stone floor. Her cell had no bunk, just a bucket for her piss and shit. Her meals, consisting of gruel and crusts of bread, were usually emptied straight into the bucket, so that everything she ate was tainted with her excreta.
Everything hurt. She had been beaten severely, for what seemed like hours, along with the most savage raping imaginable. She was sure she must have broken bones and organ damage but she could barely move so it was hard to know how serious her injuries were. Every so often - once a day, twice? - it was impossibkle to keep track of time in the windowless cinderblock cubicle - men came in and beat and raped her some more.
The worst thing they'd done, however, was show her a mirror. The swollen, puffy eyes, smashed, pulpy nose and broken teeth and split lips were unrecognizable distortions of her original beauty.
"Wanted to give you one last look before we give you the prison tattoo..." said a man (she was no longer sure who was a guard and who was a fellow prisoner, both seemed to have unlimited rights over her body). There was harsh laughter, and then she was pinned down, her head gripped securely, painfully. They showed her the razor they were going to use.
In the mirror, afterwards, she read the words RAPE ME backwards, carved into her forehead and then smeared with ink.
CUNT FOR ABUSE sliced into her tits.
KICK ME incised across her pubic mound, with an arrow pointing down to her pussy, the point of it slicing into her clitoral hood.
The wounds were left open so they'd scar properly.
"Ah, how are wegetting along?" asked the governor, looking down at her battered, bloody form. "Quite satisfactor, I see. But those broken teeth look a bit unsightly. A litte dental treatment should help, as well as improving your blow-job skills, which I hear could be better."
He was showing her something. Something shiny.
"Oh, and you're to have a visitor... Goerge Brandon. One of our more bloodthirsty rape-murderers. I'm curious to see what he does to you..."
With difficulty, Alicia focussed on the object before her. It was a pair of pliers...
And now the guards were holding her down, the governor was mounting her, preparing to rape her as he yanked out her teeth... all of her pretty white teeth,...
"MNNNNAAAAAUUUUGHHHHHH!!!"
To be cunt-inued
-
THE AFTERMATH (c)
The door of Mollie's room opened and the orphanage superintendant came in with a nice-looking middle-aged couple.
"This is Mollie Perkins," said the superintendant, "She's almost too old for the orphanage so we're hoping we can find a home for the cunt before we have to sell her on..."
"Hello, Mollie,"said the nice forty-something woman, who was very attractive. "Hello, Mollie," said the plump, smiling man,
Molliw didn't say anything, she just moaned through her ball gag.
"And the young fellow raping Mollie is Christopher," said the superintendant, gesturing towards the fair-haired youth buried balls-deep in Mollie's sopping cunt.
"Is rape encouraged here?" asked the woman.
Mollie was laid on her stomach, her wrists bound painfully tight to the bedposts. Christopher was lying atop her, one hand crushing her left titty, the other squeezing her throat as he ground himself into her. He'd had her at his mercy all morning, and her pussy was sore from the amount of abuse it had received (and that sensitive organ, though not as severly burned as Bella's was far from recovered from the depradations endurd in the People's Own Rape Crisis Centre). Mollie had been forced to com once already that day, and was reeling from the intense humiliation, but now to find herself calmly watched as she was violated was unbelievably degrading. Fresh tears sprang to her baby-blue eyes.
"Oh yes! We feel the young men have to get a good start in life by learning to violate the opposite sex. It's also a good perk for the staff to be able to make use of any girls who have begun to reach puberty."
"Quite right," said the pleasant-looking gentleman. "How are you enjoying raping Mollie, young sir?" he asked. "Is her cunt nice and tight?"
"Not bad," sneered Christopher, removing his glistening shaft from Mollie's red slit, "but her asshole's even better."
He positioned his bulbous glans at the entrance to that tender orifice and speared Mollie in a single swift movement. Her yelp of pain was muffled by her ball gag, allowing her elders tand betters o continue theit conversation.
"Christopher is just thirteen," the superintendant explained, "but we feel early experience dominating and shaming women and girls is beneficial to a boy."
"Quite right," said the nice lady, "You don't want us cunts getting above ourselves."
"Mollie is slightly older, and it's particularly important for a growing lad to learn that all females are his inferiors."
Christopher had moved his hand from Mollie's throat, wiped his fingers in the drool oozing from her gagged lips, and his hand down her belly so he could apply the slippery fingertips to her clit. Mollie felt her physical excitement biolding, and was alarmed. She couldn't bear the thought of being forced to orgasm in front of these people, no doubt to their great enjoyment. The pain in her ass and the pleasure in her pussy were building together in the worst way...
"Why don't you encourage the boy?" suggested the nice man. His wife's smile faltered slightly.
"How do you mean?"
"Kiss his arse. Tongue it. Let him know he's doing the right thing, buggering this teenage cum-slut."
"Of course, my dear," said the woman, looking a little humiliated herself. She slid over to the bedside and stooped to kiss the pert white buttocks of the boy as he roughly sodomized Mollie. The cunt juice coating his dicks was slowly being absorbed by the lining of Mollie's asshole, so that the degree of friction was increasing with each thrust.
"That's it, bitch, lick my ass," snarled Christopher, raping Mollie harder and harder. "Slip your tongue in, cunt."
The nice woman, being well-trained, obliged, tasting the sweat in Christopher's ass-crack.
The nice man reached under Mollie and tweaked her nipples. His face was right next to hers.
"Are you going to cream for us, my little fuck-pig?"
Mollie squeezed her tearful eyes closed.
It was a beautiful simultaneous orgasm, Christopher spurting his scalding seed into Mollie's tortured rectum in a series of short, visious thrusts, while she spasmed in her bonds, moaning piteously, her utter defeat obvious for all to see. The nice woman placed a final, tender kiss on the young hero's butt before joining the general laughter at Mollie's hot shame.
"Marvelous," said the nice man. "We'll take her."
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
PART FORTY-EIGHT (d)
Angela S_
ZAP! The cattle prod jabbed into Angela's naked rear and she jolted with pain as the unsafe voltage shot through her petite frame.
The cinderblock corridor leading to the ROBO-WARRIORS arena seemed to be miles long. She was crawling on hands and knees, with Lea encouraging her with the prod... one blast of electricity ever five feet or corridor covered...
ZAP! "Keep moving, shit-for-brains cunt!" commanded Lea, trying to target the next shock right at Angela's pink pussy or winking asshole as she crawled ahead.
Angela had, it is true, received a modicum of medical treatment since her week of intensive rape and torture in the People's Own Rape Crisis Centre. FUX TV's own Dr. Sade had tended her wounds. As a result, her skin looked comparatively unblemished, its healing promoted by various chemicals which were, of course, acutely painful when applied. Her feet were healing, but she couldn't walk on them. And the lining of her vagina and anus had been cured of various dangerous tears, but were still extremely sensitive, something Sade had exploited with his merciless use of fingers, massage tools and his long, hard cock...
Being unable to actually stand up nevertheless made her feel that her return to the arena was not likely to end well for her. She could already hear the crowd's chanting up ahead:
"RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT!"
ZAP! Lea scored a direct hit with the cattle prod on Angela's poor rectal pucker. She collapsed, face smearing on the cement floor, ass in the air, and Lea was able to shock her tender cunt several times before she was able to force her aching body into motion again.
The door to the arena was looming larger.
"Hello, Angela, you stupid little cum-toilet," said Suki, her boss, clacking in from a side-door in six inch heeled thight boots and the tiniest little black plastic mini-dress exposing golden thighs and most of her tiny tits. The Asian beauty was as slutty as she was cruel, reflected Angela, even as Lea jammed the prod four inches deep in her dry, unprepared cunt and let her have five seconds of ZAP.
"We're going to have a lot of fun today, yes we are," Suki continued, nudging Angela on towards the arena with a steel toe cap to the cunt. "Well, when I say 'we' I don't mean YOU, naturally. You're going to be tortured beyond belief, and as close to death as we can manage. I think the public is now used to the idea of snuff and won't be at all upset if we cross the line, but I'm rather hoping to keep you alive but in unspeakable pain so you can attend that slaughtered bimbo Carrie's funeral on Friday. It should be a lot of laughs," and she laughed her beautiful, tinkling laugh as the arena doors rumbled open.
"And we have an old friend waiting for you," added Suki, kicking Angelahard in the ass and sending her tumbling arse over tit onto the steel floor of the arena / torture chamber.
The crowd was deafening: "RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! "
But even over that sound, Angela could hear the rumble of approaching wheels. She raised her head and brushed her luxuriant red locks out of her face to behold the robot, like a small tank, rapidly approaching on its treads, squat armour-plated form bristling with weaponry.
Huge pincers reached for her squirming, defenseless naked body....
"Fuck no!" she gasped, and started crawling away as fast as she could, her wiggling butt making a delicious target.
SNAP! Angela winced as a pincer shot out and seized her - one steel talon sinking into her butthole, the other into her cunt. Her knees left the ground as she found herself slowly hoist into the air, Doing a handstand, her pelvis suspended overhead, she felt the internal grip of that vicious claw... then she was hovering in mid-air, hanging by the pincers penetrating her holes...
"Remarkable!" gushed the commentator over his PA system. "If this keeps up, will the fucklsut get her worthless holes turned inside out? New Arena Robot Roger the Dodger seems intent on finding out - here come the fists!"
Angela was now looking at her attacker upside down, so it took her a second to see the springloaded metal fists, studded with spikes and knobs, extending from the mouths of two cannon-like protruberances. Then -
SMASH! One fist caught her smack in the face, making her whole body swing backwards with the nose-crunching impact. Blood flowed up into her eyes as she swayed about, putting unbelievable strain on the tender tissue of her ass and cunt-holes.
OOMPH! The second fist hit her in her flat, smooth belly, nearly tearing her loose from the claw. Blood was now trickling from her pussy, down her belly, and from her asshole, a red line arcing down the small off her back to between her shoulders.
SMASH! OOMPH! Another blow to the face, this time spinning her head to the side as it glanced off her jaw, and another to her guts, just bteween navel and clit, the massive fist imprinting a multi-hued set of marks as subcutaneous hemmorhaging began in earnest.
"Ugh... God... please..." moaned Angela, her mouth filling with blood.
"This is one of the finest displays of cunt-smashing this arena has seen!" proclaimed the commentator. "The shit-eating cunt that is Angela S- is getting the lethal raping she deserves!"
"RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT! RAPE THE CUNT!" chanted the throng of thousands.
SCHLACK! A steel whip, charged with electricity, slashed out and wrapped itself around Angela's pale, hanging body, drawing blood in a magnificent flesh-slicing spiral that started at her cute little tits, circling round her waist, ass and thighs, and imparting a final sting to the back of her left knee.
The pincer opened, nearly disemboweling the slut, but slipping loose just before that fatal injury could be imparted, and the huge droid sucked up the whip like a strand of spaghetti, making Angela spin in mid-air, a rag-doll tossed to the winds. But before she could fall in a bone-smashing heap on the steel floor, both robotic fists slammed into her stomach, propelling her a good twenty feet across the arena.
Angela hit the floor with a juddering slam, bounced, rolled, and slid, eventually halted by the frictive effect of the metal grid she'd reached. She lay, partly curled, unable to move, unable to even touch the pain...
"And this sgould be interesting," the commentator was saying, his voice very far-off, "the cunt's landed on the fire-grid. Should get some flame-grilled butt-cheeks in a second, and I know how we always like to see this particular cunt lose its pubes... looked like there was a little russet sprouting down there, this should take care of it..."
Angela barely got her mind around what he was saying, started to move, and then
WHOOOSSHHH!!!
Flames blasted up from below, licking her thighs, her pussy, her tits and ass... she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her face and rolles, bones protesting - in the wrong direction. Even over the roar of the fire she heard the announcer's mocking laughter.
"HA! The dumb Irish whore's so flustered she's rolling right into the flames. She's in for a scorching now!"
Finally she was out of the fire, and yet not -- with shock, Angela realized her hair was ablaze. Not her pussy hair, which was reduced to ash, but her long red locks were now blackening and curling as they were consumed in a great fireball. In a panic, Angela beat at her head, trying to extinguish the inferno.
SNAP! The big robot's pincer caught her by the ankle and she was yanked up into the air, hanging by one leg.
SNAP! SNAP! Two more pincers grabbed her wrists and Angela was unable to touch her head, feeling her scalp singe as the flames burned closer...
"Would you like Roger-Dodger to put you out?" asked a strange, semi-human, semi-robotic voice.
"AAOOOWW! Yes!" cried Angela.
"Are you SURE?" asked the robot.
"AARRGHHHOOOWW!! Yes! Yes, for the love of God, yes!"
"Say 'Please,' cunt," said the voice.
"PLEASE!" sobbed Angela, the flames now burning her ears.
A large nozzle aimed at Angela.
SKOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!
Gallons of cold, rancid piss blaster Angela in the cunt, then moved down to her stomach, her tits, making them ripple and bounce with the high-pressure impact, then finally her face.
"AAUUGHHGLUBLUBLUB,,," cried Angela, drowning in piss.
Her hair had been entirely burned off, leaving her completely bald. The commentator couldn't speak for laughing. Angela was choking on piss and couldn't speak either.
Angela felt herself spun through the air and position right-way-up, then a mirror slid from inside the robot and turned so she could see her reflection.
She wept.
Then she looked past the mirror at the top of the robot, and turned white with horror.
"Hello, shit-for-brains Irish cunt, did you enjoy your shower?"
It was Roger Oates, her former boss, the late head of FUX TV. His hideous fat head was somehow transplanted onto the robot, tubes feeding into it, connecting malevolent male mind to powerful mechanical torture machine, the perfect combination to make Angela suffer as she should.
"Yes, it's me, cunt. Alive and well. Now then, since you're obviously a dirty little whore, we're going to give you a proper scrubbing clean. With THESE."
From compartments in the robot's chest, two arms emerged. On the end of each was something the size of a toilet brush, but with bristles of steel...
"No..." gasped Angela. But then the clamps came and seized her jaws, parting them. "Oh-ow-uh-ung..." she moaned.
"Now, to make this fair, I'm going to set you a little challenge. I'm going to scour your cunt and asshole with these nasty little brushes, and it's quite possible this will tear your insides out, but I'll stop, I promise, as soon as you make me cum..."
Another compartment opened and a huge erect penis, very much flesh-and-blood but hooked into the machinery, schwinged out, inches from Angela's adorable little freckled nose.
Her eyes turned upwards to look at Roger's grotesquely ugly disembodied head leering down at her.
"Get sucking, cunt."
Angela gagged as the cock rammed into the back of her throat, then screaming as the two brushed raped her pussy and asshole, rapping in and out with skin-lacerating force.
"GLAAAUGHHHH!!!"
"And the brushes don't just jab in and out, my dear cunt," Roger was saying. "They also rotate at 19,00 RPM. Let me show you...."
VRRRRRMMMMMMM!!!!
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
Cassius chrome?
-
Like that, but with a fat Roger Ailes type severed head on top!
-
The robots always handle Angela so nicely.
-
They're programmed for pain (hers) and pleasure (ours).
-
PART FORTY-EIGHT (e)
George sat in his cell.
His frenzy had past, and he was now in a semi-trance. It often happened this way. He had gone inside himself, and was now thinking over all the fine sexual violence he had perpetrated at PORCC. His sentence would pass quickly, he felt.
Everyone at the Maximum Security Prison had been very nice to him. Even as he was led to his cell, the guards had clapped him on the back and congratulated him. "I saw what you did to that big-titted blonde cunt., George. Awesome!" said one. "The look on the slut's face when her head came off and she saw you still banging away at her pussy? Hilarious!" said the other.
All in all, prison wasn't too bad. It was worth doing the time to have the pleasure of raping, injuring and killing cunts: George could live off the memories. But he also had free TV and all the violent porn he could handle. He wouldn't be here long: his lawyer Mary had successfully argued that Carrie being naked was a provocation and that really she'd pretty much deserved what she got. The all-male jury agreed, so a verdict of justifiable homicide had resulted in George just getting two years. With time off for good behaviour he could be out in six months.
The cell door opened and the Warden's smiling face appeared. "Hello, George! Got some company for you. This prison's pretty crowded so nobody gets a cell to themselves for long, I'm afraid. Bring the cunts in!"
Two guards shoved a couple of naked girls into the small cell. Well, one was a woman, perhaps around forty but very attractive. The other, who resembled her, implying some family connection, was a mere teenager. With her small, very pert tits and downy pussy, she might be a young eighteen or an advanced thirteen, George couldn't quite tell.
Both of the cunts looked cold, frightened and distressed.
"George, I want you to meet Esther and Maria Cline. A couple of nice Jewish cunts for you to have fun with. Try not to kill them, it'd mean an increase in your sentence. But so long as you're in here, you can do anything else you like to them, I'll look the other way. If you hospitalize them, I'll get replacements until they're healthy enough to be raped some more."
George stood up. Esther's forehead only came up to his sternum.
"George want whips. Knives. Pliers. Needles. Ropes. Cigarette lighter. Cigars."
The naked cunts cried and embraced one another, trembling.
"Of course, George, anything you say," beamed the Warden. "Can't have anyone accusing us of neglect, can we?"
-
The Slit was serving its four-hundredth cock of the day.
The Slit had found its way back to the cafe it used to work at, though her "mind" had only the dimmest memories of any life before it became a full-time rapedoll.
It had stirred briefly to consciousness, and found that brought only pain, so now it was quite happy to be just a set of fuckholes. Pain was still involved, but the Slit didn't worry about whether it deserved its punishment anymore. It was sufficient that something happened - why wonder about it?
The Slit's knees, for instance, were grazed and sore and bloody from kneeling on the pavement outside the cafe as it sucked off each customer in turn. But what of it? There was no other way to suck off a series of sitting men (and eat out the occasional woman), unless she stood and bent double, which quickly became backbreaking...
Right now it was being DP'd, its round titties jouncing as the twin cocks violated its cunt and asshole, and that was certainly painful. But its brain, such as it was, no longer questioned the sensations. Because once you asked whether you deserved it, then the pain got worse...
Searing bursts of cum exploded in its tortured fuckholes. The dicks were pulled out, the Slit collapsed to its knees, and the men wiped their dicks on its hair and face.
A moment to breathe....
"Hey, cunt." It was an elegantly dressed Asian woman, leaning out of a limousine. "Get in. You have a funeral to attend."
Not questioning anything, the slit rose, adjusted its torn little waitress uniform, and got into the car.
-
Inside the limo, the Slit found two other girls:
Lea, associate to Suki, was dressed in a leather fetish costume that also served to truss her damaged body up to allow her to move: she's obviously been subjected to a serious beating at some time. Crutches were strapped to her arms, her knees were braced, a combined corset and back brace suported her spine, and various more decorative straps and thongs cinched her body, while leaving her tits poking saucily from a leather bustiere.
On the floor knelt a big-titted slut, naked save for outrageously high heels, her face buried in Suki's crotch. Despite this position, the Slit recognized Chloe Titmuss, AKA Spunkholes, boasting what looked like new, fresh shipmarks on her curvaceous tits and ass. The riding crop in Suki's hand left little doubt where the injuries had come from.
"Rachel, I believe you already know Chloe," sighed Suki.
"There must be some mistake, said the Slit robotically, "I am The Slit. I have no ther name. I am a set of fuckholes for the pleasure of men."
"And my name is Spunholes," said Chloe, less robotically, since her post-hypnotic suggestions were less extreme and were applied on top of less brain trauma and psychological destruction. Then: "Ow!" she cried, as Suki swatted her behind sharply.
"Did I tell you to stop licking, cunt?" she demanded, then smiled as Chloe/Spunkholes whimpered and busied her tongue again in Suki's dripping snatch with craven, whorish enthusiasm.
All of this seemed natural and proper to the Slit, a natural expression of the universe's laws.
Spread your legs, Slit," ordered Lea, sitting across from it. The Slit unhesitatingly obliged.
Lea raised one of her crutches and prodded the Slit's own crutch. She winced at the pressure. The base of Lea's crutch was dirty and had a piece of old chewing gum stuck to it. It pushed and pushed at the Slit's entrance, which was somewhat moist what with having been fucked multiple times. The moisture was entirely composed of male ejaculate rather than female lubrication. With a bit more pressure the tip of the crutch penetrated the Slit's cunt and pushed deeper. The Slit moaned a little.
Two inches deep... four... six... eight...
Suki, sitting beside the Slit, reaches over and rolled its clit between finger and thumb, her other hand pressing Spunkholes' head into her lap. Slurping noises sounded in the soundproofed interior of the limo.
At ten inches deep in the Slit, provoking moans both pained and ecstatic, Lea rudely yanked her crutch out of the oozing entrance. The chewing gum had come off it, lost somewhere in that sopping hole. Lean now positioned the top of the crutch at the Slit's asshole, which was red, sore, and likewise swimming in semen. A cruel jab penetrated the outer ring and the Slit moaned, 100% from pain.
Two inches deep... four... six... eight.
At a nod from Suki, the driver stopped the limo abruptly - the Slit slid forward on her chair, lurching off-balance from the violent halt. The crutch rammed itself four full inches deeper in her bowels as she slid from her seat and landed on the floor. When Lea tugged her stick free, it had blood on the end of it. Suki and Lea laughed uproariously at the Slit's undignified fall.
Suki produced a collar and fastened it around Spunkholes' throat. A leash clipped onto it.
The driver was opening the car door. Suki got out, leading Spunkholes on her hands and knees. Lea got out with some difficulty, and summoned the Slit to follow.
"Oh dear, that French maid's costume isn't really suitable for a funeral," said Lea. Reaching out, she ripped away the frilly microskirt, exposing the black thing, pulled off to one side to expose the Slit's slit, and then took hold of the white frills at her neckline.
RRRRIP.
The costume was now completely black, but the loss of the frills exposed the upper slopes of the Slit's tits, and her pink aereola were peeping out of the tattered decolletage.
"Adjust your panties, you disgusting cunt," sneered Lean, swinging one crutch up to smack the Slit between the legs. Hastily, the brain-dead whore tugged the gusset of her thong into position to cover her dripping twat.
It was only after this that the slut, blinking and looking around, realized that she was in a cemetery.
TO BE CUNT-INUED
-
TO BE CUNT-CLUDED HERE! (http://ravishu.com/forums/index.php?topic=47930.0)