Author Topic: A Stripper's Special Hell - Mf, NC, Kidnapping, Rape, Torture, Snuff, Slavery  (Read 6300 times)

Offline HerWetNightmare

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A Stripper's Special Hell
A narcissistic dancer with a taste for blackmail pays the price for picking the wrong mark.



You know the spiel. This is all fiction.  Do not do this at home.  Really.

But with that said, don't feel bad about yourself if stuff like this turns you on. Wank or diddle the bean to your heart's content, no guilt required.  When it comes right down to it the story itself is no darker or more "titillating" than an episode of Criminal Minds.  And it's light tiptoe through the tulips stuff compared to what Inquisitors did to women in the name of God.  Humans have always been drawn to things hiding in the shadows, and always will be.

I hope you enjoy the story.



Can you really call it rape when you are a stripper? Is it really assault when you have been lying on your back, legs spread, fingering your pussy and letting the guy with the endless supply of $20's fondle your cunt and tuck bills into your garter? My intentions couldn't have been more clear. When I said, "I'll bet you love a nice fat cock up that tight little ass," you winked and answered, "You know it baby." Then you pushed the Franklin up your wet hole and sashayed off stage.

You had to know what was on my mind as I sat there in the high rollers booth feeling up the other girls and buying them drinks. You saw me staring at you when you were on stage. I know you did because you returned the stare. You locked eyes when you came walking over after your last dance, sat in my lap, and charged me three times the going rate to rub your ass against the bulge in my pants and push your tits in my face. Of course you knew. Or at least you thought you did.

To you men exist to be toyed with and taken for all they are worth. You've always been the one who knows what the men really want, and how to make them believe that they have a chance at getting it.  That's what you thought when you looked at me, isn't it, Candice? I'm sure that you laughed about it with the rest of the sluts as you counted your money at the end of the night.  But you laughed at them too, taunting them as you tucked away your nightly roll, easily twice that of your nearest competition.

But did you know how much the rest of the dancers at the club hate you?  Did you see them standing there smiling when I backhanded you, spit in your face, then dragged you across the blacktop by the hair and threw you into the trunk of my Porsche? Could you hear them laughing their asses off? Did any of them lift a finger to help you? When I pulled your night's take out of your purse and threw it on the ground they were scrambling for it before I was even out of the parking lot. If you think any of your "friends" at the club would ever call the cops to save your precious pear-shaped ass you are sadly mistaken.

Such a tiny thing you are, 4' 10" and 90 lbs dripping wet. You'd be a tiny girl even if you were working a Soi 6 bar in Pattaya. Tiny, that is, except where the curves matter most. On you the natural gravity-defying C cup tits with their hard pink nipples are difficult to miss. And your ass. Men have doubtless fapped themselves raw thinking about your ass.  Flawless pale flesh covering tight glutes that flow from your wraith-thin waist to your firm, sculpted thighs. Were your ass even a tiny bit larger it might be too big. Booty simply doesn't fit a form as petite as yours. But were it any smaller it would be less unforgettable. And there in the space between your ass cheeks, the perfect, tight little starfish...

Did I say flawless? Perfect? They did start the evening that way I suppose. In all honesty, though, you are even sexier with blood dripping down your thighs from the crimson welts I left on that remarkable ass, your inner thighs and the lips of your cunt. The first time the cane landed full force squarely on your clit I wondered if the nearest neighbors 10 miles away might have heard your screams. How you cried and begged for mercy when I used the knotted cat to leave lash marks across your tits.  The sight of the blood running from your nipples made my cock so hard that I had little choice but to relieve myself in your holes.  I don't recall the last time I relished beating a girl quite like I do beating you.

With a dancer's tone the gap at the top of your legs reveals the contours of your labia even when they are closed. Shaved and smooth, the full lips form a perfect camel toe in the skin tight ravewear you wear commando to and from work. When you lie there on stage with one leg straight up in the air your mons opens just enough to offer a glimpse of hidden petals and the oasis within. Your cunt is tiny even in relation to the rest of your petite body, as is the tight bud at the back of your pink taint.

I wonder, did your parents appreciate the ironic fate they sealed when they gave you your name? Candice. White and pure, a chaste alabaster queen.

Yes, I know your name. I knew it long before I came to the club. I know a great deal about you, Candice. Where you live. No. Wrong tense. Where you lived. I know about your friends and family. Your accounts. They have all been closed. Your landlord has been paid in full for the remainder of your lease. The movers are emptying out your apartment even as we speak. No one will think twice when they hear that you found a rich Middle Eastern sugar daddy that you are following to Dubai. It's so in character for a self-centered shallow little gold digger like you. No one will care that you are gone any more than the stripper whores at the club do.

Even were your body unremarkable, your face alone has the power to break hearts. Round, perfectly proportioned atop a long smooth neck. Thinking about it, you look like a perfect whore come to life from the pages of an X-rated manga.  I'm sure that men have lost themselves in your large, slightly exotic blue eyes, long lashes and thin arched brows. You always keep your eyes made up with shadow and mascara, erasing any trace of the girl-next-door innocence so many petite girls cultivate. Everything about you screams of the beast with two backs. You want it to.

Don't worry about your pretty little face, Candice.  Puffy red eyes, face and hair covered in my cum, and tear streaks running down through smeared mascara bring out the real you. Before you could probably have walked through a dark alley and intimidated the junkies and bums with a stare.  Looking like this they'd have you on your back in a minute, all lined up to take their turns. For their lot there is no one more fun to victimize than a girl who is already a victim.  As for me, I take my pleasure from the corruption of the sublime.

The black eye, split lip and battered cheeks will heal. The bruises on your neck will fade. I'll take very good care of you, dear. I want you to be as flawless as a porcelain doll the next time I beat the shit out of you while I rape your holes. This is how I will always think of you, and how you will come to think of yourself.

The photos I took turned out really well.  They are already selling like hotcakes on the Dark Web. There is no hint of anything consensual in the violence and degradation that those images show. The movies are doing even better.  Who would have believed that a girl like you would still be an anal virgin at 19?  Men around the world will bust a nut watching you struggle like a wildcat and listening to your primal screams. Yours may well be the tightest asshole I've fucked. Given the size of my cock it's a wonder that it ever fit. I worried that I might have to use lube to get it in, but I'm a very persistent man.

Were you screaming more from the pain of the anal rape or from the beating I gave you while I fucked you that first time? Did you even know which? Not that I care. The screams carried the depth of your terror and pain and my cock responded, becoming a throbbing steel shaft. Your agony only drove me to fuck you and beat you harder, and the harder I raped and tortured you the more you thrashed and screamed your agony. The two fed on each other, the animal lust of a predator tearing into its panicking prey as she struggles to save herself.

It could have become a snuff film at that point. I could easily have beaten and fucked you to death then and there. I pride myself on my self control, but it would have been so easy to just let go and take it all.  I let you live, but only after you were certain that I would not. You needed to understand the stakes here. The pictures and videos capture that reality.  There is no faking the fear and panic of a girl as she realizes that "fucked to death" is not just a figure of speech.

They wouldn't let you on stage at the strip club until you celebrated your 18th birthday, but that was the day you walked onto the stage unannounced, lay back, spread your legs, and rubbed yourself to a screaming orgasm.  The money rained down on you like manna from heaven. You had found your place in the world.

Now here I am barely a year later selling you as porn to guys who get off watch a self-obsessed little cock tease like you raped and beaten until there is nothing left but a piece of used, broken meat whimpering and begging for mercy that will never come. Do you suppose any of the guys beating off to your pictures and videos now are the same guys who came to the club to tuck 20's in your g-string then masturbate thinking about what they would do to you if they had a chance? Do you suppose that they recognize you, and that makes them even harder? Maybe some of the boys you led on in school are in the crowd as well, thinking that you are getting exactly what you deserve for leading them on. I hope so, don't you?

I forced you to watch as I slid my huge hard shit-covered cock out of your filthy, bloody, defiled little asshole. I gave you a chance, Candice. Had you begged me to let you suck my cock clean the evening's torment might have ended there. I might have fucked your face while you used your mouth and tongue to polish my cock.  You will come to know the taste of your own ass very well, anyway.  Had you begged me to let you lick the slime from my cock and balls I might have come down your throat, then chained you to the wall of the cell that is your new home. I might have offered you that kindness.

Instead you refused. You left me no choice but to use my slime-coated cock to shove the shit from your ass deep into your vice-like pussy, bottoming out and driving your cervix up into your stomach in a single brutal stroke. It was almost hypnotic, watching the outline of my cock pushing up into your flat toned belly with each thrust. Both of your impossibly tight holes were like warm velvet. Ass or pussy, how could I choose?  So I didn't. I fucked one and then the other, back and forth, using them interchangeably but making certain you saw the fresh shit on my cock every time I pulled it out of your ass and shoved it deep and hard into your cunt.

I didn't mind when you struggled. In time you will learn better, but I enjoy the game of breaking a filly, destroying her spirit so that I can replace it with the identity that I choose. I had to laugh when you tried to fight me. At 6' 4" and 200 lbs of toned muscle I will never have a problem dominating you Candy. Could there be anything more demeaning than when I shoved my fist up your cunt, grabbed my cock in your ass, and used the wall of soft warm flesh between your holes as a fuckrag, jerking off inside you until I dumped what felt like gallons of cum deep into your colon?

Your struggling gave me an excuse to take your slim, beautiful neck in my hands and squeeze. Instead of driving my body into yours I held you by the neck and drove your body onto mine, again using you like a satin glove to jerk off with. The harder I drove your body onto my cock the harder I choked you. That's something for you to remember, dear. No matter what has happened so far, there is always a way to ramp up the violence another notch.

I was drawn in again as your face turned red and you hopelessly gasped for breath while making a futile attempt to pull my hands away. Your cunt clamped down harder with each involuntary spasm of your body until you finally lost consciousness. Did you wonder if you would ever wake up again? To be honest I wondered too. You were out for a minute or two - maybe three? - as I went on fucking you. It would have been delicious to let the final spasms of your body milk the cum from my cock. It would have been almost poetic, your entire life transpiring as nothing but a prelude to my moment of pleasure.

Again I pulled myself back from that edge. It would have been a mercy to give you the escape of death, but I am not a merciful man. Besides, you are worth far too much on the black market to end you like that. White slavery is such a lucrative business. So instead of strangling you to death I let go of your neck and slapped your face back and forth and tore at your clit with my fingernails until the pain brought you back around. Your confusion was sexy and exciting beyond words as you struggled to focus, wide eyed, trying to make sense of anything. So of course I did it again. And again. Allowing you only a single breath each time. Over and over you experienced both the terror of your own death and the anguish of returning to the hell I construct for you.

Did you come to wish for death, Candice?  If so, it will not be the last time. I will try to resist temptation and keep you alive until I put you on the auction block. But if I fail there will always be other little cunts like you to break and sell. Don't think that you are anything special to me, Candy. Because you are not.

The first time I saw you spread your legs on stage I was delighted to discover that not everything in your garden of delight is tiny. Sliding out through the lips at the top of your cunt, your protruding clit was easily the size of the tip of your index finger. Even when not erect your clit was too large to be contained by its hood. It was your clit that gave away your secret. Objectifying yourself to inspire lust turns you on, slut. It was obvious in that first moment that you get off displaying yourself on stage, Candice. There was no hiding the way your clit would swell and the honey-thick cream would ooze from your crevice and run down your leg.

Using and torturing you seems to only make your lust stronger. I was actually startled when the moments you regained consciousness gave way to orgasms, each more powerful than the last. As your oxygen-starved brain grasped for something to orient itself it latched onto arousal from your pain and sexual desecration, and you came again and again.  Perhaps you should thank me for showing you your true nature, Candice, for freeing you to be who you truly are. Yes, you are a rare gem indeed.

If you are wondering there is little about you that I don't know, Candy. That is what the boys have always called you, right. The names that you dance under are all a play on that name. Taffy. Cinnamon, Coco. Divinity, Lolipop. Variations on a theme.

I know about your mother, who raised you. I know about your alcoholic father who abused her. Quite the looker, your mother. You came by it honestly.  I wonder, Candice, how did it feel when you heard your mother telling men lies about their sexual prowess, then spreading her legs for them? What was it like, listening as on the other side of a paper thin wall Mommy's automatic teller machine du jour rutted away in her quim?

Milking men with thick wallets for their cum and their money is nice work if you can get it, and she could get it. She could get it whenever the accounts ran low. Is that where you learned it, Candice, at you mothers knee?

Except you don't put out, do you Candice? No. Your mother's men left cash on the table for their illicit pleasure, but pleasure it was. Drained balls, slated lust, contented sighs, last kisses, and fond regrets are the wake she left behind. If you were more like her perhaps we wouldn't be here. But you walk a different path. Broken promises, tapped out Platinum cards and blue balls are your stock in trade. Did you imagine that it would never catch up with you?

Some girls are born to be whores, Candice. You are one of them. How could you not known that?  Had I found you on the street selling your body for the pleasure of men with blue balls needing meat to fuck, I might have even bought you for a night.  Perhaps my more restrained violence would have made you feel like the woman you truly are.  But instead of selling yourself - an honest if illicit exchange of sex for money - you became a shameless tease, thief, blackmailer and more.

You are not the first homewrecker I've disappeared, but you may well be the most brazen.

That's how you came to my attention. I'm the guy that men with money come to when they have problems and want them to go away. Blackmailing a CEO was a stupid move. Had you just taken the $500 he gave you and cleaned up his cum with a tissue we wouldn't be here right now. He probably would even have been happy to pay you a few thousand for the pictures of the hand job you gave him in the VIP room at the club. No harm, no foul.

But that's not how you decided to play it.  Instead you showed up at his doorstep, dressed in a tight corset, micro miniskirt, stockings and 6 inch red stilettos. When his beautiful young wife answered the door you actually handed the envelope of photos to her and asked that she give the envelope to him. Fortunately she passed along the envelope unopened. She knows better than to stick her nose too deeply into his business. But she was angry and suspicious. He will have to be very careful about his philandering for a while. Had she seen those pictures they could have cost him not only his family but half of all he owns. That was uncharacteristically stupid of you, Candy. How did you think he would react?

He will be visiting you tomorrow.  He paid me a great deal extra in exchange for the privilege of taking from you what you should have sold to him in the first place. Although I dare say he will take more than you would have willingly given. He has asked that he find you dressed in the little outfit that you wore to his front door, but that you be hanging from the ceiling by your wrists.  He is new at such things, but seems to be learning a lot from the Dark Web porn I've been directing his way.  I might describe him as "eager" to have some alone time with you.  He has asked that a most dangerous and frightening collection of devices be at his disposal.

I chose not to allow him the knives, skewers, branding irons and a few similar items that he requested.  I told him that he could do with you as he pleases for a full eight hours - one day here instead of at the office - but that there are limits. He will leave no unsightly permanent marks, but in addition to his cock you can look forward to being violated by a rather gruesome collection of phalluses, discovering your tolerance for electrical torture, and learning the tastes of piss and shit.  You will be alive and conscious at the end of the day, requiring no more than a few days medical care.

He will respect those limits. He has a lovely wife and a truly beautiful daughter, and knows that if he crosses the line with you that they will both suffer the same fate from me.  The medical care at the end of the day is not much of a concession on my part. You will need that anyway to tend to the gashes I have already left on your ass, thighs and tits. I would have preferred to be the one to introduce you to the things he will show you, but it was him that you wronged, after all. And there is the matter of the six figures he was willing to pay for the pleasure. You really seem to have pissed him off.

Why are you here? You are here because this is where you deserve to be, Candice.

Speaking of which, I am happy to report that your mother is still a good fuck. Was still a good fuck.  Was.

It started as the best night of sex she ever had. Her cunt was still tight, and she was anything but an anal virgin. I am an extraordinary lover when I choose to be. For a whore like your mother I am too good to be true. I'm the perfect gentleman who opens doors, kisses hands, seduces over wine and an elegant meal, then gives a woman orgasms like none she has ever known. Your mother was one of those women. She let herself imagine that she had discovered a man with whom she might spend the rest of her life.  I suppose that in a way she was right.

I lost count of how many orgasms I gave her last night, but she was in a cum coma when I took her by the neck, fucked her gently, and kissed her lips softly as I choked the life from her. Unlike you, she never woke up. I let the dying spasms of her ass put me over the top. I wasn't too worried about leaving her ass full of my DNA.  The fire later last night burned her place to the ground. When they find her body there won't be much left to identify.  But if they do try to determine the cause of death the heroin I pumped into her veins just before killing her will tell the sad story of a junky whore who was trapped when a space heater set the drapes on fire.

Your mother spent her last moments riding a wave through an erotic heaven like none she had ever known.  I gave her that. I bore her no ill will.
Take solace in that if you like, Candy, but her fate is your fault. She was the one person who might still have cared when you disappeared. She was a loose end. I don't leave loose ends.

In some ways I am like Dexter. I have a code. The women that I rape, break, and then make disappear truly have been asking for it. They have proven themselves worthy of life as chattel, existing only for the depraved pleasure of whatever sexual sadist I sell them to.  Their narcissism has earned them a new home in that world.

But in other ways I am not like Dexter at all. Dexter was a sociopath. He felt no emotions. He could not place himself into the minds of his victims. He could not really comprehend the terror that they felt. I do feel those things, Candice, and I revel in them.

You are not an object to me, Candice. To objectify you would be to offer you an escape into yourself. It would be to kill your humanity, leaving you as little more than a sex doll that happens to be made of flesh.  Perhaps when I sell you that is what your new owner will want you to become, but that is not who I am. I want you to remain a woman with emotions and a sense of self and even self-worth. That way I can truly hurt you.  I will breathe new life into your soul only to defile and destroy you again, and again, and again.

No, my goal is not to objectify you. My goal is to humanize you. Every horror, every moment of pain and degradation, every time that you are used and defiled, you will know that to me you are more than just a piece of meat with wet holes and pleasing curves. I will be doing it to you. I will be hurting you, Candice Martin, basking in the all too human depths of not only your physical anguish, but your psychological anguish as well. Know that the more unendurable your suffering and humiliation, the more I will revel in the cruel physical, psychological and emotional hell I have made just for you.

Now here is the real rub, Candy.  Eventually you will be my slave not because of your confinement, but because of your love and devotion to me. I know that the hate you feel at this moment makes it seem impossible, but there will come a time when I send you back out into the world. A time when you find other young, tender, beautiful women and lure them back to me, knowing that it makes you a monster but unable to stand the thought of disappointing me. Perhaps you will even participate in their sexual degradation, all in the hopes that I will give you a kind word, stroke your hair, or maybe even let you suck my cock. It will be hell for you to watch me use them and not you, and heaven for me as you beg me to use you instead. There will be many evenings when you crawl to your cell, beaten and broken, but content that at least that night I bothered to defile you instead of just ignoring you.

They call it Stockholm Syndrome. It is the foundation of every cult in human history. Your only defense, the only way for you to hang on to some shred of meaning and purpose in your life, will be to fall helplessly in love with me. To become more devoted to me that you are to your own existence.  It doesn't even matter that I am telling you what will happen.  If anything, knowing that I am intentionally trapping you in a prison of your own love and devotion will only hasten the process. You will swear to yourself that you will never love me, but the part of those thoughts that take hold will be "love me."

I think in your case I will go out of my way to sell you to a particularly sadistic and brutal master. But when that day comes your anguish will not come from fear of your future, but from hopeless despair as your lord and master, the love of your life and the sun around which your world revolves casually casts you aside like a used toy with which he has become bored.

That's it, sweetheart. Go ahead and suck my cock.  I know you don't want to enjoy it, but the moisture and rocking of your hips as I play with your cunt and clit gives you away. Could it be that all I am doing is showing you your own true nature, the girl you were born to be?  Can you see the screen on the wall, dear? If I didn't know better I'd say that the video of your own torture and violation is turning you on.  That is just a taste of your future, dear.  Can you even begin to imagine the things that you will do for me, and will beg me to do to you?

Here.  Watch this part closely. It's where I strangle your mother to death while I'm raping her ass.

You just gushed, Candy. Did you really just cum watching your own mother star in a snuff film?   My, my, my.  This is going to be fun.
« Last Edit: September 29, 2023, 01:14:36 AM by HerWetNightmare »

Offline Rainbow
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My oh my, what a wonderfull story! And so excellently written.
A real joy to read, not only because of the story, but your flawless writing as well !!
I am giving you a well earned „Welcome Merit ", very likely many more to come. And not only from me !!!!
Please Sir, carry on !!  :emot_wow.gif: :emot_bravo.gif: :emot_101010.gif:
If she can‘t breathe, she can‘t scream !

Offline spunkjunk

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My oh my, what a wonderfull story! And so excellently written.
A real joy to read, not only because of the story, but your flawless writing as well !!
I am giving you a well earned „Welcome Merit ", very likely many more to come. And not only from me !!!!
Please Sir, carry on !!  :emot_wow.gif: :emot_bravo.gif: :emot_101010.gif:

Totally agree!
Strong debut. :emot_thedrool.gif:
Once God created the male. Examining each angle he thought: I can do better! And he did...

Offline grendel

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Yes, excellent story.  Particularly liked the part about not dehumanizing her but still degrading her.  Need to think about that ... does it make the part where she assists you in raping and enslaving others more or less poignant.  For you it is obviously more ... I need to think about it though. 

I look forward to reading more of your work.
Grendel
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Offline HerWetNightmare

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Thank you very much for the positive feedback! It will certainly encourage me to post more as time permits!

I'm glad that the psychology of the story resonated, Grendel.  I see that juxtaposition in varying degrees and forms in all manner of relationships, sexual and otherwise. Here I think it will make her eventual active role in what he does both more poignant and far more horrible for her to endure. She will know the difference between right and wrong, and will strongly empathize with her victims. She will feel what she is doing as if she were living that hell over and over again right along with them, and hate herself for it. Nothing that he could do to her directly could fuel her despair more strongly than the choices she herself is making. But the alternative is his disappointment and rejection, and that is too horrible to even contemplate. I could imagine a future in which attempted suicide seems her only option.

I stress attempted.  Perhaps after the attempt she is cared for. Praised. Brought back into herself. Allowed to feel that she truly is loved in return. And then just as she is beginning to stand the sight of herself in the mirror again, she is slowly reintroduced to her role as handmaiden to the sexual destruction of more young women.

Or perhaps her escape is to come to see the women whose lives she is destroying through his eyes. There are hints in the story that she might have it in her to become his true partner. That was the thread I left dangling at the end when she cums while watching her mother's demise.  I could imagine him pleasuring her and whispering in her ear about the erotic beauty of women as they are raped and tortured.  I could even imagine him orchestrating a progression that leaves her a true Sadist, unable to experience pleasure except in response to the pain and degradation of another.

Again, thanks for the comment. I might have to play with that a bit...

Offline Wintergreen

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Well, that was thoroughly enjoyable, superbly written and magnificently unpleasant. It would be nice to read some further adventures once Cindy has been properly groomed into a girl thief.

Offline DouglasR
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Wow, very well written, left us wanting more.  :emot_101010.gif:

Offline HerWetNightmare

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I enjoy feedback.  If you'd like to see more give me grist for the mill. Let me know what about the story turns you on. What were the images in your head when you were reading and stroking your cock or rubbing your wet clit?  What sorts of depraved things do you think Candy should be forced to endure?

If you enjoyed this you might also enjoy The Perfect Victim https://ravishu.com/forums/index.php?topic=52304.0.

Offline grendel

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So I read this again and like it even more.  Going to save it in my keepers directory.  And I am coming over to your point of view ... that it is better for her to stay a person rather than let her retreat into the nothingness of becoming a brainless cock-sleeve ... or maybe not better, but different and at least equally entertaining. 

I haven't finished Perfect Victim but have started it, and got far enough to know that its not a sequel to this one.  Speaking of which, I think that this tale really merits a sequel ... or two ... or more ... one from her POV finding some young meat for him to destroy and/or her being sold off to a sadist who destroys her ... perhaps turning her into a puppy girl or something like that.  Basically I would like tales where he actually does to her all the things he has promised that he would.

Oh and I particularly loved the mother daughter dynamic ... though with my kinks I would naturally have preferred Mom's passing to be agonizing and degrading.

When you have more stories posted here please do set up an authors page with a link to it in your signature block ... that way I won't miss anything new you write.

Keep up the good work.
Grendel
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Offline HerWetNightmare

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Thanks again!  I'm not sure how much time I will find to write for RU, but it's enjoyable to let my hair down. Hopefully I'll get to the point where I have enough stuff posted to make an author's page worthwhile.  I have notes on a handful of possible stories.  (I'll be honest and say that will depend a bit on the sorts of responses that I get.  ;) )  With your encouragement I have started a sequel to A Stripper's Special Hell.  But no spoilers.  :-X

Cheers!

Offline HerWetNightmare

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Discover Candy's fate in A Stripper's Special Hell, Part II: Candy's Metamorphosis  http://ravishu.com/forums/index.php?topic=52323.0

It is six months after the events in A Stripper's Special Hell, when Candice, a beautiful 18 year old stripper, was kidnapped, raped, beaten, and tortured after she tried to blackmail a wealthy and powerful man.  Extreme steps were taken to guarantee that no one would come looking for her, including the rape and murder of her mother. Since then Candy has come to know a new life of rape, brutality, prostitution, terror, addiction, degradation, and servitude at the hands of the man who kidnapped her.  She is desirable flesh caught in his vast and violent empire catering to the extreme and depraved tastes of men wealthy and powerful enough to afford the unique services that he offers.  He is Lord of the Hell Candy now occupies. He is also the man who she has been manipulated into loving more than life itself.

After this long, most girls who fall into this world have died at the hands of a wealthy sadist, been sold into slavery, or met a similar fate.  Candy has come close to suffering such a fate on more than one occasion, but remains not only because of her beauty and erotic talents, but because she shows hints that she could be something more.

Now the time has come to decide what her future will hold.