Author Topic: The Great Brutish Rape-Off, Parts 22 to FORTY-EIGHT (g)  (Read 21917 times)

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-EIGHT!)
« Reply #15 on: October 16, 2019, 10:55:02 AM »
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
« Last Edit: January 23, 2020, 11:14:18 AM by skuttrusk »

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-EIGHT!)
« Reply #16 on: October 20, 2019, 03:45:32 PM »
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
« Last Edit: January 23, 2020, 11:15:24 AM by skuttrusk »

Offline Tars Tarkas

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-EIGHT!)
« Reply #17 on: October 23, 2019, 06:54:09 AM »
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
“I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street” - Malcolm X

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-EIGHT!)
« Reply #18 on: October 25, 2019, 09:45:33 AM »
Thanks!

Pins are a good idea, we haven't had those yet.

Offline Tars Tarkas

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-EIGHT!)
« Reply #19 on: October 25, 2019, 11:53:56 AM »
 ;D ;D >:D >:D
“I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street” - Malcolm X

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #20 on: October 26, 2019, 11:18:53 AM »
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
« Last Edit: January 23, 2020, 11:15:45 AM by skuttrusk »

Offline Corvid
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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #21 on: October 27, 2019, 11:25:02 PM »
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...

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #22 on: October 29, 2019, 01:12:21 PM »
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.

Offline QueenOfPentacles

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #23 on: October 29, 2019, 07:01:58 PM »
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.
My daddy used to say if you say yes to EVERYTHING and EVERYONE at any given time, you can't be raped

Offline TFox25

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #24 on: October 29, 2019, 09:31:12 PM »
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 :)
Message me on Discord for some RP fun!

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #25 on: October 30, 2019, 09:20:30 AM »
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.

Offline Tars Tarkas

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to TWENTY-NINE!)
« Reply #26 on: November 02, 2019, 03:23:49 AM »
Finally! Long overdue, the hot little skank! ;)

Tars
“I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street” - Malcolm X

Offline skuttrusk

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to THIRTY!)
« Reply #27 on: November 04, 2019, 01:40:20 PM »
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
« Last Edit: January 23, 2020, 11:16:05 AM by skuttrusk »

Offline Tars Tarkas

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to THIRTY!)
« Reply #28 on: November 05, 2019, 04:24:03 PM »
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
“I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street” - Malcolm X

Offline Tars Tarkas

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Re: The Great Brutish Rape-Off (Part 22 to THIRTY!)
« Reply #29 on: November 05, 2019, 04:25:45 PM »
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
“I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street” - Malcolm X