extreme rape

This is a few installments from the story Arape and Brutal at work on another boars. If you like it therecan be more. tell me.

Back in the torture chamber things had slowed down a little. Nina was on the wedge, her arms tied on her back and fastened to a pulley from the ceiling, pressing her body a little forward and putting her weight where she wanted it the least, pressing the sharp edge up her cunt, letting the vagina cheeks hang to each side. Her ankles had weights attached and she looked rather docile, the butterfly gag still in her mouth.

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The action was with Sara. She was back in the wheelchair, her wrists strapped to the armrests. Brutal and Brenda were pressing matches under her fingernails and lilting the pyrite. Sara was screaming and begging, pulling her body from side to side trying to escape the pain. Her tormentors were full of vile ideas to make her scream even more and started pulling her nails with thin flat-nosed pliers. It made her scream alright.

Arape was relaxing on the leather couch studying a memo and a file. The memo was from his most valuable undercover agent, Mr. Carsten. This gentleman, a Scandinavian and a human rights activist, had excellent contacts among the dissidents and the insurgents under the pretext of international support. He was a qualified psychiatrist and an expert on the treatment of victims of torture. He had chosen well to cover his main personal sexual preference, the rape and torture of girls and women. He reported straight to Arape after his frequent visits to the Country and was always on the lookout after insurgents that would be of particular interest to Arape and his men. He had specialized in spotting pretty women and girls and the slightest pretext was good enough for reporting them to the secret police. He had now started his penetration of the school system and his list of female teachers and pupils were of particular interest to Arape and Brutal. They had nothing against sweeping even the primary schools for enemies. But of course, as far as students went, the junior high and high schools were better. But the memo Arape was studying with such great interest pertained to a Danish female journalist on her way to his country to work clandestine and to expose human rights violations. From the file he could see that she was a beautiful, tall and trim woman. There were lots of recent pictures of her in all sorts of settings, from bikini clad on the beach to dressed in evening gown for dinner. What amazed and intrigued Arape was her age. She looked thirty but was in reality forty-nine. She had the stature of extreme self-confidence and relied on nobody. A pretty face with just a few charming wrinkles. A knowledgable and street smart beauty who had worked all over the world as a foreign correspondent. A real prize for someone like Arape. Just the kind of women and fucking intellectual he liked to take down real hard and reduce to a whimpering, pleading piece of raw meat, creating those moments of hopeless horror when his playmate realized that he was doing damage to her that never can be mended. Those moments were lightenings of share joy to him of course. He was starting to plan for her disappearance. He also knew that Mr. Carsten, who once had a love interest in this journalist but was discarded by her, really would enjoy her fate and wished to participate in the fun. He knew that Mr. Carsten spent hours on the videos and pictures he received after his visits to the Country. Mr. Carsten had participated from time to time in interrogations. A memorable on was with the little redhead beauty that he and Brutal had skinned alive in the end. She was betrayed by Mr. Carsten and this had nearly been too much for him there and then, but he later told Arape that he on the plane back to Europe had jerked off four times in the lavatory thinking about it. He had known of course that his participation in the rape and torture of the little redhead had condemned her to death. No chance of her staying alive and later unmasking Arape’s best agent. The more he thought about that the harder he got. And now he of course hoped for the same outcome for that fucking snotty but oh so beautiful journalist Bente B. When Mr. Carsten came home to his little young bride, he was married just before his last visit with Arape, he couldn’t help himself and went bananas with her in bed, hurting her bad. It nearly went too far. He had, however, been preparing her for quite a while as a submissive sex slave through sheer force of psychology and manipulation. He had started preparing her with photos, videos and sound tracks of women being tortured as part of his work and daily life and slowly manipulated her to believe that this was something she wanted and needed herself. Eventually he had the free run of her body and mind for his own wonderfully perverted pleasures. But still he needed those moments of total exhilaration when somebody’s life was in his hands. Being spotted for Arape, if you were a pretty girl, was as good as a death sentence. He was looking forward to the demise of that bitch Bente B and his own participation in the fun. She would arrive the day before his own arrival and he guessed she would hardly leave the airport before being arrested. In this he was right. Arape decided to make all the necessary arrangements. He had also started wondering whatever happened to the Weber family. At least Mrs. Weber and the twins should be in by now and he decided to send over a detachment to check things out. He was really looking forward to the fun with the Webers. In the meantime he wanted to play some more with Nina, straddled on the sharp wedge. Brutal and Brenda was still having their nasty fun with little Sara, whose wonderful noises filled the room. Arape grabbed a hammer and some nails and walked over to Nina. She saw him coming and started making those strange funny sounds through the butterfly gag. She protested and shook her head as Arape grabbed first one and then the other vagina cheek, stretched it out an inch or so, and nailed it to the wooden wedge with one forceful blow of the hammer. Her crutch now looked real strange and funny and more blood stained the wood. She certainly wasn’t going to move much. Arape took out good ol’ Mr. Zippo, flipped it open and lit it to warm her up a little, aiming at the outstretched vagina cheeks. Now Nina managed a full blown scream, even through the butterfly gag.

To be continued-

In the Weber basement there were all sorts of strange commotion. Mrs. Weber started making strange desperate noises as she saw the twins and their little friend being ushered down the stairs. Louis was still riding her from behind and didn’t let go or reduce his pace. He was grinning to the newcomers and shouting: Lookie, lookie, more guest to the party and such little cuties too. Just hang on little dearies, I’ll soon finish here with your mother.

The driver took in the scenes he had missed. Bruno, the giant, seemed to have raped and killed the ugly girl. She at least appeared absolutely lifeless, like a rag doll, as the giant ripped into her and slapped her about. Ben was into the goddess, having rapped her around his dick, groping her buttocks and lifted her legs off the floor, he too ripping ferociously into her. The driver enjoyed the beauty of her face, which to him was even more beautiful in reflecting pain and shock.

The Weber twin ran to their mother, screaming at Louis and trying to push him off their mother’s back, their small hands hitting his massive body. He seemed to enjoy the intrusion, grabbed her tits even harder, twisting her nipples cruelly and ramming his dick even harder up her tight little asshole. Ben was grinning from ear to ear as he watched the show, slapped the goddess’ tits and increased his own rhythm.

The driver had taken the opportunity and started molesting the little friend. She was a smaller and slimmer girl than the twins. Her tits were larger though, strangely big for such a young and tiny girl and the driver ripped her blouse to get a better view. He had her little hands in one grip on her back, using the other hand to feel her up under her skirt. She was on her tiptoes, begging and pleading in a thin little voice: Oohh, no please, please don’t do it. Don’t touch me there, dooon’t pleeease! The driver’s face was contorted in evil lust, his hand working in the little girl’s crutch, his finger pressing into her tight little cunt. The girl was screaming, her whole body shacking, she was half lifted off the floor by the cruel fingers in her cunt. The driver, hot with sadistic lust, said with a slurred voice: Ups, she ain’t no virgin no more! No siree, she is just another little slut, ready to be raped!

Louis and Ben were watching in fascination. It made it for them and they came simultaneously, howling like wolfs, shooting their cum into their playmates. Bruno was still ripping into the lifeless ugly girl. He hadn’t even noticed the new company in the basement. But now he reacted to the howling and saw the two girls attacking Louis (to no avail of course). He rose from his kneeling position, threw the ugly girl away like a doll and in a swift move was over by the girls. Grabbing both and pinning one between his knees, he just ripped the school uniform, white blouse and blue skirt, off the other. She was standing there, shocked and scared in her little bra, covering tits hardly larger than peaches, briefs and white socks. The giant ripped the underwear off her body. She was a beautiful girl with auburn hair, a small replica of her mother. In early puberty she already had, like her identical twin, the fine forms and features of her lovely mother. Louis and Ben took in the little wonder with their greedy eyes, marvelling over their luck in having two little identical beauties in their power. The third little girl was a blond, also beautiful. This was going to be one hell of a party.

But it was not going to be, not for theme. Arape’s detachment had arrived and the young lieutenant in charge was real angry and pissed off. When he saw the scene in the basement he put the three policemen and the jailer Bruno under arrest. Arape would have to decide later how they should be punished for their transgressions. (Louis, Ben and the driver got off easy. Arape always needed good people with the right instincts. Bruno was rewarded by being invited to participate in interrogations of particularly difficult prisoners. Arape liked his style and he would soon have his debut in the interrogation of the female journalist and human rights activist).

To be continued-

(We’ll return to the Webers and guests later. I got so fired up thinking about what’s gonna happen to the female journalist Bente so I’m giving her priority for now. Here is the beginning of her story.)

Arape had set it all up at the Airport. The fat little Captain of the border police and his two soldiers were waiting by his side. And then there was the female Sergeant. She was a short, stocky woman with close-chopped dark hair, big heavy breasts, meaty and muscular forearms and big strong hands. She had pig’s eyes, a broad flattened nose and a large sensuous mouth. She looked formidable and Arape revelled in the thoughts of what she would do, as sheer routine, to the women they were all eagerly waiting for. The airline representative had confirmed to Arape that the reporter from Denmark was travelling with a companion, another female, and Arape thought to himself, the more the merrier. He knew it was the young niece of the reporter.

They were coming to the passport control and Arape got a first look at the reporter. His friend Mr. Carsten had not exaggerated. Even though a little on the old side she was a lovely tall lady with a trim and shapely body, lovely complexion and fine bone structure. Nobody could guess her true age from her appearance alone. She had legs to die for, a wonderful tight and shapely ass, fairly heavy breasts but firm and beautifully shaped (remember no kids, which also means a tight pussy), a lovely long back and beautiful shoulders, long arms and fine hands with elegant fingers, neck like a swan and a beautiful face with a couple of slight imperfections that made it even lovelier. Big grey eyes and lovely auburn hair. Can you ask for more as your little plaything, Arape mused, the fact that she is a snotty intellectual bitch, here to discredit and undermine the regime, should only heighten his pleasure. The travelling companion was a huge and pleasant surprise. The reporter must have been crazy to bring her fifteen year old niece to this country. Maybe she thought it would be good cover, two innocent tourists. She was a tall slim girl, not fully developed as a woman, but with a very pretty face, nice small tits and good legs. She looked delicious with her short blond hair and she had her aunt’s grace. She reminded Arape of a young long legged colt just before blossoming into a full fledged race horse.

The reporter Bente was protesting vehemently when they were unceremoniously pushed into the large naked interrogation room behind the customs section. She was a professional and knew immediately that they were in trouble. She regretted dearly having brought her little niece into this situation. She looked at the fat little Captain, the two soldiers and the horrible women and she saw the anticipation and the sadistic gleam in their eyes. But what really scared her was a tall, civilian with blonde hair and a scar running down his cheek. She knew instinctively that this was the feared Arape and she knew all to well what he liked to do to women and girl prisoners. Her friend and contact, Mr. Carsten, had given her a rundown of Mr. Arape’s operations. He was the worst torturer and human rights violator in the country and he had the solid backing of the President. But Mr. Carsten had also assured her that she would be safe herself and that the secret police wouldn’t interfere with the international press. That was the main reason for daring to bring her niece along on the trip.

Open up, the little fat Captain said. Their luggage had been brought in and placed on a long table. The captain and the Sergeant took their time shifting through the contents of the suitcases. The Captain held up thin delicate underwear, smelled it and felt the texture between his finger, smiling. He had already dropped a small bag of coke into the girl’s suitcase. The Sergeant was turning the reporter’s suitcase upside down rampaging about in the content. She looked the beautiful women straight in the eyes with an expression saying; this is what I’m going to do to you, when I get my hands on you. The lust and hatred in the Sergeant’s eyes really scared the journalist. She realized that this horrible manly woman enjoyed hurting other human beings, particularly women and God knows what other desires she was harbouring. Bente got real scared and was expecting the worst.

Look her, shouted the Captain, holding up a little bag: Just as we suspected. This fine pair is smuggling dope into the country.

Why anybody would want to smuggle cocaine into the country which produced much of it to the world markets, nobody bothered to ask. Arape was smiling to himself.

Sergeant, ordered the Captain, a full body and cavities search of them both.

The girl started protesting, but the Sergeant silenced her with an open hand blow to her face. Blood started trickling from the girl’s lips.

Strip, both of you, ordered the Sergeant with a cruel smile, or we let the boys here do it for you.

The soldiers were watching in anticipation, their mouths half open, hoping that the woman and the girl would resist so they could have their fun. They both moved closer to the girls grabbing after their garments.

The reporter started loosening the buttons in her blouse. She said to her niece: Ellen, do as they say. They are just looking for any excuse to hurt us. The world will hear about this and they will be sorry for having treated the media in this way.

The woman undressed without further ado, reviling a magnificent body. She was standing tall and erect. A real proud bitch, Arape thought to himself, taking in the exciting view.

The little bitch needs help, the Captain said. He grabbed Ellen’s blouse and bra and ripped the garments off her body. Ellen yelped in surprise and fright and tried to move away from the Captain, crossing her arms in front of her.

Hold her he shouted to the soldiers, who grabbed Ellen’s arms, holding her still. The Captain ripped the rest of her cloths off and she was standing naked and ashamed and full of fear in front of them all. She was a salivating sight for these perverts, fine little rapemeat and a fun beauty to torture if you liked them on the young side.

The Captain certainly liked what he saw. He made the soldiers hold her head still, grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth open. With the other hand he stroked her over the lips before plunging two large fingers into the cavity of her mouth, probing about, triggering the puke reflexes. The girl was shacking violently and the soldiers got a better grip, grabbing her flanks. On of the soldier let his hand glide up to her breasts, cupping a firm little tit in the process.

Bente was trying to interfere, pushing at the Captain, screaming at him. Let her be, she is just a child. What do you want from us?

Sergeant keep that bitch occupied. You know what to do, said the Captain.

The strong stocky female Sergeant grabbed Bente by the neck and forced her body down on the table top, pressing her breasts flat. She spread Bente’s legs, inserting her own between them. One of the soldiers let go of the girl. He knew what to do next and grabbed Bente’s hands from the other side of the table, pulling her towards him, stretching her arms. The slapping sound of a latex glove being put on by the Sergeant was like music in everybody’s ear. She stroked Bente’s ass just once lightly before plunging a finger up Bente’s tight asshole, pressing, probing enlarging, then two fingers, so three, she was aiming to force her big hand up this tight bitch’s ass. The Sergeant was pressing down on Bente with her full weight, panting and cooing. Wonderful little deaerie, dainty little dearie, big Momma is gonna hurt you real bad.

Arape was just hanging loos, enjoying the sounds and sights. To everybody’s surprise Bente managed to escape the grips of the Sergeant and the soldier and rushed towards the Captain, who was still playing with the little one, letting his hands explore the girl’s body. He too had put on a latex glove. Her whimpering and pleading must have enraged Bente and given her the strength to break free. She nearly reached the captain before the Sergeant with surprising agility reached her and blocked her in a Half Nelson.

Fuck, shouted the captain, teach that bitch a real lesson. Do to her what you like the best. Why not take her next door to the locker room and throw her on the bunk and teach her a little lesson of love. Would that be alright major Arape? The Sergeant panted in desire and anticipation, squeezing Bente hard, looking anxiously at Arape.

Sure, said Arape, but no big production. I want her presentable and in sound body for tomorrow. A friend of her is coming from the old country to join the fun. To bad if she is all washed out by then. He set her up for us and he deserves his reward to participate in the interrogations and the fun. Bente wondered what he was talking about: a terrible thought flashed through her mind. No, it couldn’t be Mr. Carsten that had betrayed her. He was a friend, they had once dated. He had been real helpful in setting this trip up and it was he who suggested that she should bring her niece as a cover for this clandestine trip. Could it be? A chill ran through her mind. And she knew she had nothing good in store from this people.

Take her, Arape said to the eager Sergeant, and let the door stay open, I want to hear the sounds of your playful fun and to look in from time to time. The Sergeant was beaming, she let go of the Nelson, put an arm around the naked woman and led her into the next room, cooing in an artificial sweet voice: Tender little dearie, dainty litte sweetie, this is true love.

Hardly little, the captain said to Arape. The bitch is a half-head taller than she is. You could not have made her happier, she will really take that bitch for a ride. That dyke of a Sergeant is not only a lesbian but the worst sadist I ever seen. I like a little bit of it myself for amusement, but to her it’s an additional sexual orientation, a necessity. Well, Arape thought, I know all about that. He had better watch it and not let the dyke go too fare with his beautiful prisoner, even though this couldn’t even be considered foreplay compared to what he and Mr. Carsten had in store for her.

They heard a sharp thin high scream from the next room and the Sergeant’s voice saying: Yeah this is the idea, help undress me, then get down on your knees. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Bente’s voice protesting, whimpering and pleading. Then more load slapping. The Sergeant’s deep voice was murmuring interspaced with Bente’s yelping and protests, and some fragments of panting, shallow breathing and words drifted out in the next room. Yeah that’s it bitch, yeaaaahh, stroke it, lick it, use your tongue bitch, aahh good. More of that aahh fine mmmmm now come here with the other hand, that’s it, that’s it, gooood, yeahhh. It sounded interesting to Arape, especially the way Bente’s interspaced protests was reflecting desperation, pain and shame.

The Captain was back to feeling up the girl. She stood erect and rigid, protesting with small yelping sounds. He bent her over the table for a cavity search just like the Sergeant had done with her aunt. The pain and shock was pouring out like long wails of despair from the young girl’s mouth. Her long lean back was twisting on the table, her breasts pressed flat on the table top. Yeah, the Captain said. You have to let me rape this one, Major. The Captain was already half undressed. His torso was gleaming of sweat. His flabby face covered in perspiration. He lent over her and put his weight to her body, one hand ducking in to her clit, probing around, penetrating with his fingers. The girl reacted beautifully twisting her body in desperation, trying to throw off the weight crushing her down, crying out a shrill protest. The Captain dropped his trousers. His dick was huge, like a swinging policeman’s truncheon. He used his right hand to open her cunt lips. The other hand he pressed in under her to grab a small tit, pinching her nipple. With a push of his body he penetrated her and ripped into her with furriously. The girl screamed and screamed and screamed.

Out of the next room came also an explosive sound from Bente, overlaying the girls desperate screams. It was a kind of squealing grunting sound repeated over and over in abrupt jolting rhythem, dying slowly away only to rise again to higher more pitched tones. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh could be heard as an other overlay in the strange sound picture. The Captain slowed down his pace in raping the girl and listened with a big smile on his face. Oh, she is a nasty one, she is, he said, before setting an even harder pace, holding the girl’s neck in a vice grip and squeezing her little tits with the other.

Arape walked over to the door and looked in. The two naked women were intertangled in the wide bunk, their bodies moving in a string rhythm with the smaller stocky and strong woman in full control, setting the pace. Her uniform was neatly arranged on a wire hanger on the wall. The Sergeant had Bente’s hand pinned on her back using her other hand on Bente’s body and in her cavities, pinching groping slapping. Bente’s strong legs were kicking helplessly under the weight of the Sergeant. Her tormentor had Bente’s clit between strong fingers and sharp nails, pulling twisting, drawing blood. She was also viciously biting into Bente’s lips, now muffling her screams of pain and desperation.

Time to stop the show Arape thought. This has come far enough for now.

Mr. Carsten was settling into his First Class seat in Copenhagen for the long haul overseas. He admired the blond little stewardess, her shapely body and fine features. He knew she flew often on this route, and had clandestine contacts in the country of destination through her boyfriend there. She acted as a conduit of secret messages and often brought papers out of the country. He had to put a newspaper on his lap, thinking of what Arape would do to her after he got that juicy piece of information. But he had a hard on anyway, thinking about what probably was playing out with Bente and that little niece of her right now. Arape had promised not to hurt them much till he arrived himself. He could hardly wait and was proud of himself for having suggested that Bente should take the girl along as a cover. When he was dating Bente, more than three years ago, he had seen little Ellen on several occasion. He had wanted to rape and hurt the delicate little girl even then. Mr. Carsten decided that this was going to be one very pleasant trip.

To be continued-
The story continues:

The old jailer was paying the two new prisoners a visit. Arape had brought them in from the airport in the afternoon. They were shackled naked to the brisk in the cell. For some reason Arape had let them alone for now, indicating that they would not be called upon till the next day. It would give him time to be acquainted with the beautiful woman and the tempting, wonderfully innocent teenager. He knew he could not rape or torture them now, but many things could be managed by installing fright and terror in their minds and besides they were both marked from the treatment at the airport, so he could feel them up real good. He had heard some of the details of their reception, the captain’s rape of the girl and that perverted dyke of a Sergeant’s handling of the woman.

Her beautiful body bared the marks of that fun. Her tits were black and blue with ugly bite marks, her lower lip were swollen from biting and her crutch bared the marks of brutal treatment. The girl was a little black and blue too, around her tits and buttocks. But none looked worse for wear and he was sure that there would be a lot of mileage in the pair.

While feeling up the prisoners and listening to their protests and yelping his mind drifted to yesterday’s initiation of the Weber bunch to the hell of this prison. He had arrived a little late to his peeping position in the attic. The reason was the girl they called the ugly girl. They thought she was dead and left her for the morgue. But he got typical reactions from her when he prodded her with a knife. So he had spent a pleasant hour cutting her and raping her, making her a true candidate for the morgue. He didn’t find her ugly or uninteresting at all, to the contrary, she had held up were well considering the extensive damage already done to her. She still had a lovely scream and her body reacted well to his dick and knife, at least for a good while.

From his hidden position he took in the scene in the torture chamber. Nina and Sara were still there. Nina on the wooden horse and Sara strapped in the wheelchair. The tall Swedish blonde was hanging by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling. Welt marks from a whip on her torso. She looked unconscious, her head bent forward. The jailer was sorry he had missed that part. But the attention in the room was on three naked small girls on the big black leather couch, the Weber twins and the thin blonde girl. They all looked delicious with their fine little bodies showing more than a promise of blossoming into the most beautiful women imaginable. The little blond already had the breasts of a woman, unnatural large for her little fine pubescent body. The Weber twins looked like dolls of chocolate and vanilla with their fine curves and peach like tits. They were all terrified and crying. Arape and Brutal, naked with their big dicks erect, were teasing and groping the girls, saying vile things and promising the girls the ride of their lives. Professor Weber was naked on a thin bar, his hands tied on the back and his legs tethered to the floor, the bar pressing up in his scrotum, his dick hanging listless to one side of the thin bar. He was shouting his outrage and protests. Mrs. Weber and Brenda were nowhere to be seen.

Hold back, Arape said to Brutal, don’t hurt them yet. We are waiting for the floorshow to begin. And here they are. Behold! Brenda entered the room with Mrs. Weber. They were both dressed as bar dancers and Mrs. Weber looked real lovely even if a little embarrassed and scared. Mrs. Weber let out a yell of despair seeing the naked girls on the couch and her husband in his terrible predicament.

Arape went over and put on the music. Now show her the ropes at the bar, he said to Brenda. But don’t overdo it. The lovely Mrs. Weber has some experience. We have here an old 8 MM film showing what Elizabeth can do at the bar. It’s one of the few sins of her college days at a girl’s party, sending a friend into marriage. A real talent if you ask me. Arape started the projector and dimmed the lights and an even younger Mrs. Weber appeared on the wall swinging around a bar, dressed in a short skirt and a blouse with the top buttons open. Around her a group of girls were sheering. A recognisable face among the lovely audience belonged to the slightly older Nina. Elisabeth was moving well, very enticing indeed, unbuttoning more buttons, letting the blouse slide over her shoulders, drawing her arms out of the blouse one by one and ripping it from her body with a good flung. Her lovely breasts were swing in the with bra, her hips moving lovely and her ass twisting under the tight skirt. The girls were cheering and you could see they were shouting: More, more. The skirt fell in one sexy move and the girl was swinging in her underwear and high heels. A close up of her lovely face and swinging auburn hair showed excited if slightly glassed eyes. She was more than just a little drunk. She kept on swinging, moving her tight ass lovely, cuddling the bar between her thighs but apparently a little reluctant to let the bra and pants go. One of the girls in the tight group around her just grabbed the panty and drew it down to her ankles. Elizabeth turned round in surprise and dismay showing her lovely beaver to the camera. The girls were cheering and laughing. And behold the lovely Nina grabbed her bra and tore it from her body. She too like the rest of them was slightly intoxicated both by drink and the excitement. Elizabeth tried to hide her crotch and breasts in the classic position leaning forward with one arm to the breast and a hand to her crotch. Surprise and shock reflected in her beautiful eyes. You could se she shouted: No, no, please! But it was too late. They were all over her, grabbing her arms, dragging her to a big couch letting their hands probe her body. Elizabeth was shouting and struggling. To no avail. The had her pinned down on the couch a big girl on top of her, removing her own cloths, holding one hand to Elizabeth’s neck and the other in her crutch, starting to buck on top of her like a rapist. The film stopped there.

Mrs. Weber stood erect like a pole herself, but with her head hanging in shame and despair. The Professor was making outraged sounds from his very uncomfortable position. The girls on the couch looked petrified, their mouths slack, but the twins were making strange small sounds of shock and disbelief.

Fuck, I don’t have to teach this bitch a thing, Brenda said. She can go straight to the pole and give the performance of a life time. To make her co-operated real well I’ll take care of the Professor here and play a little with his dick. See if he can get a hard on by his wife’s performance. If she doesn’t, I’ll hurt the dick real hard. My pleasure. You and Brutal should have the twins on your laps to make her mellow.

The old jailer chuckled. He was now sure Brenda would be his pretty soon. Ordering Arape and Brutal around. The stupid bitch. And he was right of course. Arape had already decided to make the lovely Mrs. Weber his next pupil in torture and terror. He was sure it would work, holding her family as hostages. He saw great potential and she could even turn out better than Brenda, who was an innocent grad student when he started training her. And look at her now.

To be continued—

The President was restless. He had a hard time concentrating on the proceedings of the Council. His mind was on the campaign to get ride of his enemies and have a little fun in the process. His latest addition to the Palace would now come handy. Next to his vast bedroom he had installed a holding cell and a nice, cosy boudoir for love and fun. In reality it was a torture chamber of the finest kind with all sorts of equipment, ancient and modern. He decided to pay the prison and his friends Arape and Brutal a surprise visit this very afternoon to take a look at the fun and make a selection for his own little boudoir. Plenty of arrests had been made lately. A couple of young student maybe, that he could enjoy through the night. Sleep didn’t come easy to him anymore.

The old jailer felt the surprise and chock in the room as the President and his entourage unannounced entered the torture chamber and took in the scene. The President had brought his two bodyguards, huge mean looking men, and his aide-de- camp, an evil looking little man. Mrs. Weber was swinging naked at the bar, apparently with some zest, the reason probably being the Zippo lighter Brenda was holding to her husband’s dick or the little squeals of fear and pain coming from the twins, sitting on Arape and Brutal’s naked laps. The Swedish goddess had regained her wits, Nina was still on the wedge and Sara strapped in the wheelchair. The President took it all in with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction. He had known all along that his boys wouldn’t let him down when it came to rape and torture. He also knew, even though the prisons were filling up, that he would find the finest prospects with Arape. He was looking at the women in their predicaments, all splendid specimens, striking beauties and torture and fuckable as hell.

At ease, as you were, the President said. Arape and Brutal had risen, throwing the twins off their laps. Mr. President, Arape said, what an honor to have you here in our humble prison. I hope you will find the proceedings to your taste. Both Arape and Brutal knew that they would have to take the rape and torture to new heights in brutality and damage to the victim to satisfy the President’s vile tastes. The President made an inspection of the goods. He was drawn first to the tall goddess strung naked from the ceiling. She yelped as he stroked his hard hands over her body and screamed beautifully when he poked her nipples with a needle. This one goes to the Palace tonight, he said to his aide-de-camp, who smiled cruelly. The bodyguards smiled too; usually they had the leftover of the President’s little victims. But this girl was not little. It was the tallest most beautiful girl they ever had seen. The aide- de- camp wished the President would take the three little girls to the Palace too. They were all very nice, beautiful and juicy. He particularly liked the blond with the strangely large, but oh so firm tits. He liked large tits on small bodies and this girl was perfect. He was looking forward to raping and hurting her even after the President was finished with her. The President didn’t have his earlier agility and stamina. He drank too much and tiered easily of the game. But he liked to watch and had a swell time just sitting there wacking off as his bodyguards and the little sadistic aide-de-camp finished the job.

The President knew what was going on in the heads of his companions. He knew that his aid desperately wanted the little girls in the Palace tonight. He had nothing against raping and hurting little girls himself, but it was not his first priority. He took his time going over the women, probing with hands and needle. Getting good typical reactions. He was intrigued by the beautiful Sara in the wheelchair and had fun playing with his needle in her cunt. She reacted well and screamed like crazy, but not so when he pushed the needle deep into her legs. He found that very strange and wanted to investigate this phenomenon further. Sara was going to the Palace too. The President smiled cruelly when he saw Nina’s cunt lips nailed to the wedge. He probed her buttocks with the needle and Nina tried to move to avoid the painful poking only to have her cunt lips stretched even more. It was all good ol’ fashioned fun. Brutal was glad Nina wasn’t selected for the Palace. He was still hot on her and wanted quality time with her tonight. He wondered about Mrs. Weber and new that Arape also had plans for her. The President was studying Mrs. Weber who had run to the twins on the couch trying to shield them against the evils of this terrible room. He knew the Professor and his lovely wife by reputation and he hated their guts. It would be a tremendous pleasure to separate the girls from their parents and let them wonder what would become of them. He walked over to the Professor. Without warning he drew an ice pick and pierced forcefully the Professor’s balls. The room filled with a terrible scream. Mrs. Weber jumped from the couch and started across the room. The bodyguards caught her before she could reach the President and held her in a grip like a vice, bending her head backwards, protruding her lovely breasts towards the ice pick of the President. He quickly jabbed her in each nipple. She screamed and slumped in the hands of the bodyguards. Thin lines of blood were running from her nipples.

That will teach both you and your stupid husband, said the President. And I am taking your daughters and their friend with me for a little fun in the Palace. Prey that you will see them again! But before I leave I want to see you raped by all the able men in this room. I think Arape should have the pleasure of being first. Mrs. Weber was led to the couch. The little girls were taken care of by Brenda and ushered in a corner were they could watch the action and tethered together by a thin rope. She was joined by the aide-de-camp who started molesting the thin blond girl saying cruel and scary things to all three. The girls cried and watched. First Arape, then Brutal, then the bodyguards and the little aide-decamp took turns raping Mrs. Weber in the most brutal fashion. But she stood up rather well. Nobody wanted to hurt her real bad yet. They had a lot of fun ahead of them with the lovely Mrs. Weber.

To be continued-
New installment. Enjoy and let me know what you think. Any ideas for furthertreatment of the lovely ladies?

It was a quite night in the prison, even though from Brutal’s bedroom cell you could hear screams and sounds of torture penetrating the thick walls. Brutal was having his nasty bed play with the lovely Nina taking her further down in a spiral of pain and utter desperation. She had started realising deep down in her pain fogged brain that this terrible monster was going to kill her, literally fuck and torture her to death. Brutal had started the night by playing on the scene from the girl’s stag party where Nina had ripped the bra off the young Mrs. Weber. Brutal had made up a story of all the fun things that happened after the camera stopped rolling, an orgy in lesbian rape and torture, and made Nina confess cruelties and real bad hurt that never took place of course. But Nina had a very bad conscience about the incident that had bothered her for years. The big girl that had mocked raped Elizabeth had been rather cruel, she had slipped her finger into Elizabeth’s cunt while bunching on top of her. And there was nothing she could do, except scream in pain and outrage. The girls were too drunk and excited to stop holding her down. One of the girls evens slipped her fingers into Elizabeth’s tight asshole, but nothing of the real cruel torture and repeated rape Brutal made her confess to, took place in reality. But Brutal was grinning like crazy starting to hurt her even more bad to screech out of her even more outrageous confessions.

In the room next door it was more quiet. Arape listened with a smile to the wonderful sounds next door. He really hadn’t hurt Mrs. Weber yet, just given her the fuck of her life. She was close to hysterics about the fate of the twins and her husband but Arape was soothing her guaranteeing that nothing real bad would happen to the twins. They were just taken away as hostages to secure the co-operation of her and the professor. Arape was grateful that she had fainted when the President used his icepick on her and that she hadn’t realized that the twins, their little friend, the Swedish goddess and Sara were taken to the Palace for fun and games that very night. Arape was smiling thinking about the night in the Palace. He new that he would never see any of those girls again, at least not alive. The President’s aide-de-camp, an old friend, had promised a full account of the coming fun at the Palace and Arape knew that it was going to be interesting and exciting. But for now he was working on Elizabeth to turn her around, using blackmail, force and terror to make her see things his way. It had been very promising that she was wet when he raped her just after he had taken her to Brutal’s room to watch a little of the action going on with Nina. Maybe Elizabeth had it in her after all. She was shocked to hear Nina confess that she and the rest of them had planned to hurt and degrade her all along at that terrible party years ago. And when Brutal had made her punish Nina for her sins, she had put more force in the whip hand than you would expect from a friend and fellow victim. This the men noted with great interest, of course and Brutal smiled and winked. But Arape knew it was a long way to go before he had the lovely Mrs. Weber as his new and willing assistant. He regretted that he had given the old jailer the go ahead with Brenda. Even though she gotta go, he should have held it off a little. Strangely he had not like Brutal, a wish to partake in the proceeding and taking down of Brenda. He had just as much pleasure in imagining the old perverted devil fucking and cutting her to death. And besides he needed some sleep. It was going to be a busy day and night tomorrow. Mr. Carsten will arrive and he was sure he wouldn’t want to waste any time getting his hands on the reporter and the little niece of hers. Mr. Carsten wore a deep grudge to the beautiful reporter and he was going to take his exquisite revenge. Arape was looking forward to it. It was time to get some sleep.

Finally Arape had given him a go-ahead and the old jailer was happy as a fiddle. He knew he would have trouble securing Brenda on his own, so he solicited the willing help of Bruno, the dumb giant and assistant at the morgue. Bruno just walked over to Brenda, hit her in the stomach with a terrible blow, picked her up over his shoulder and carried the girl down in the basement with the old drooling jailer in tow. He dumped her on an old wooden rack, the kind the Inquisition had so much fun with and the jailer secured her wrist above her head and the ankles spread-eagled in the old shackles and ropes. Brenda awoke with a grunt in the process and started fighting but she was chanceless against the raw force of the giant and the eager hands of the jailer. She tried to argue and then plead, but the old disgusting jailer just took out his little sharp knife and started cutting her cloths off her. Bruno stared turning the wheel and Brenda’s long lovely and naked body was stretched an inch or so and raised above the bench an inch or two on account of the ropes being led over a bulge at the head and foot of the rack.

Hold it, you fool! The jailer shouted. He did not want her joints to dislodge just yet. That should be a later pleasure, but first a lot of cock and knife play. He also wanted to instil the right terror in his victim even though he knew Brenda was well aware of the fact that she would never leave the dungeon alive. He wanted it to sink into her brain that Arape and Brutal had totally abounded her and that this was the making of her own device, having had the tendency to boss the boys around, and even worse, having made a secret list of victims that disappeared for ever at the hands of the Secret Police. He enjoyed the chock and fear in her eyes when he told her that Arape had known about the victim’s list for months and had promised weeks ago that he, the man she always looked down on and mocked, would have the honor to set things straight with her.

While talking he let the knife travel her long stretched body and putting enough pressure on it to leave a thin red line down her cheek, her lovely neck. then out on each shoulder, down to her heaving breasts, which were both circled by the thin red line, down her taught stomach and straight to her pelvis, before he jabbed the knife lightly at her cunt lips and then continued leading the knife at an angle with a flat hand under her, cutting from cunt to asshole and continuing up her back to her neck, making a quick circle round her lovely neck. Brenda was making small yelping sounds amidst swearing and shouting at the old man. Oh, yes you are right, the jailer said, I’m an old perverted bastard and I’m gonna skin you in the end. But believe me, you will be hurt real bad long before that. Bruno, the idiot, was watching in fascination. The strange movements in his crotch were back and he really liked it. Now he knew what is was all about, that he could hurt girls with his dick even more than with his strong hands. And he liked it.

To be continued-

Never heard from Susan, but had a lot of other requests. So herer we go:

Sorry, I haven’t had time to work on the story although I’m really looking forward to write the next installment. (At present I’m on a long term assignment in R—, Italy and is very busy).You might take pleasure in knowing that all the women and girls in my story are fashioned after real persons. Most of them I have known intimately and most of them have had a lot of forced and cruel sex, even rape, from my part. A few got off the hoook, mustly by sheer luck.

Bente, the reporter is a special case. We met in the Balkans in the mid-nineties. She was reporting on the war and I was doing humanitaerian recovery and relief work (surprised?). She is a beautiful and selfpropelled person, even under the most adverse conditions. Between assignments in the field, which we both had, she stayed with me in my little house and I spent time and psychology to develop a mashosistic streak that she didn’t even know she had. You know, the usual games, submission, bondage, light torture and forced sex. It was great. I only had one problem, the conditions under which I was operating. All around me was havock. Rape and torture even of the youngest girls was the order of the day, used by all waring fractions as a mean of terror and itimidation. Bente and I discussed this a lot and she showed a more than a professional intersts (or morbid if you like) in the details of the many cases that we could study first hand. No wonder I was inspired and I committed a few brutal rapes in the field myself. What the hell was the difference, no law or order, no police, nowherer to turn. I also took pleasure in using my assets, money, cigaretts, alcohol, food and was always on the prowl for a mother with a young daughter or two and no protection. I had a lot of fun with that. As you can see, my tastes were quickly jaded. So I went bananas one night and took it out on Bente in a hard session of rape and torture. Not so smart, she turned against me. The police was no option (totally demoralized and corrupt and friends of mine, once they "arrested" a young war widow and delivered her just where I wanted her, ready cuffed), but she did her best to ruin my reputation and good name all over the Balkans. The fucking bitch!

She also had another motive. Her sister in the home country went through a very difficult divorce from a psyco husband. The sister sent her daughter to stay with Bente for a while till things simmered down. Little Ellen was a beautiful girl of twelve. blond, tall but shapely, like a young colt on her long leggs, with small budding tits. I really fancied the girl and she was too much to have in the lonely house when Bente was in the field. I was friendly as hell and took the opportunity to finger and molest her a little when we were alone. She hated it, but never said anything to Bente. I realized immediatly that she was used to being molested. Turned out her father had used her (I have recreated her as a virgine in the Story). My plan was actually to condition Bente (many machosist have a sadistic streak towards the same sex), after some heavy drinking, to join in a little threesome, just petting and a few light games, to show the little niece the ropes, so to speak. One afternoon as I was fingering the little one, she started to scream and fight. Bente was away and I thought this was the time to teach the little bitch to show some respect. I had a pleasant time all afternoon, forcing little Ellen to perform and be a little serviceable bitch, a good kisser and a good cocksucker while I perfected my molesting techniques spiced with a little pain. But I was now all aroused and had bigger plans for the little one, taking her to a bedroom, tying her in the bed, wrists to ankels on her knees. That’s when Bente totally unexpected turned up and spoiled the fun. Not all together though. I tied her up too and worked on her instead while the little one was watching. The end you know. A lot of trouble for me. So you can see why I’m going to give Bente and Ellen special attention in my story.

Let me also say, that I can’t meet a pretty girl or woman without wondering how much she can take of rape and torture. Most are surprisingly resilient and will take a lot. I like to take them down all the way after having filled their cavities with cum, going into a long session of torture with fright as the spice and pain as the souce. The best moment is when your playmate realizes that you are doing damage to her body and soul that can never be mended, never put wright, and she starts to wonder how long she has to sustain consciousness or even life itself. But there is no escape of course and this is where the real fun begins. You can play with her, promsing not to hurt her anymore, giving her a little respite. She really wants to believe you out of desperation and then you hurt her even more bad. It goes on and on and you are playing with all your little instruments, blades, razor, pliers, fire and you take her breath away with a plastic bag. Cattle prod, stun gun and and an old field telephon are also fun.I’m always right about the slut. She can take a lot. I like breasts, firm and nice. They will be like raw meatballs before I’m through. I also like a good beating with a pair of good leather gloves and a brassknuckle for hitting the finer itimate parts. I love going after the kidneys, the filet of body parts in a good beating. Don’t mind breaking her jaw and nose for that matter. So these are a few things in store for Bente and Ellen. Comming up soon.
I tried to send a mail to your Yahoo no., but could not get through.

I am looking forward to your continuation of the story.

I have read supposedly true accounts of some spectacular cruelty in the Yugoslavian war, including tales of prisons with special rooms in which captives could be played with by men who enjoyed torture as an art form.

And the civilian population seemed classed as fair game.

Find a house with a few pretty daughters and their Mama begging for mercy, and ignore Western restraint….let your men enjoy the women as they wish, then use the hunting knives or the bayonettes to "shut the bitches up."

Of course, the idea of being able to round up the nurses at the hospital or ravish the nuns at the local convent is a favourite starting point for all sorts of pain filled depravity…..

Go on, get to work….give me the details of how you want those poor girls to suffer.

Susan.
I’m having trouble logging in. A new member, but not activated apperently. Enjoy the new installment in the saga. This is not for the feeble at heart.

It was a fine early morning and Brutal was in a good mood. It had been one hell of a night with the lovely Nina and Brutal was wondering whether he had been too hard on her. He wanted her to last longer for more fun. Arape and Mr. Carsten were having breakfast downstairs and he was busy setting up the reporter Bente and the teenage girl the way Mr. Carsten wanted it.

Arape and Mr. Carsten were enjoying their breakfast. Arape had been listening to the tale of the traitorous stewardess. Mr. Carsten had shown him a few pictures taken by his cellphone after arrival. She was a pretty small little blonde, smiling to the world.

“Sometimes bad things happen to good little girls”, Arape said, “and that’s the most fun of all. I’ll put my people on her right away. It’s important that she leads us to as many contacts as possible before we hit her and her friends.”

“Don’t wait to long” said Mr. Carsten. “I wouldn’t mind partaking in the fun while I’m here. She should just disappear mysteriously or maybe you could arrange another accident, you know a burning car and your good doctor can ”identify” the bodies, the way we have planned it for Bente and little Ellen. So, it was fun at the airport yesterday.”

“It was great fun, said Arape, smiling to his friend Mr. Carsten. You should have been there. Since Brenda is not available anymore and Mrs. Weber is far from ready I have taken the liberty to engage that perverted Sergeant from the border police to this session. It’s always good to have a woman in the game. They know lots of useful things about the female body. She is one ugly bitch, but very good. Don’t worry, she can be trusted and since you hate this bitch Bente her work will heighten your pleasure.”

Mr. Carsten was not so sure. He was going to kill Bente and the girl in a long session of rape and torture. He didn’t need anybody else to have quality time with them except his friends Arape and Brutal. Besides, witnesses were always a dangerous thing. On the other hand, Arape knew how to take care of witnesses. He was dry in the mouth from excitement and anticipation knowing that Bente and Ellen were made ready for him upstairs. This was going to be even better than that little redhead they had ended up skinning the last time. Bente was a beautiful, classy lady, and he couldn’t wait to see the expression of fear and realisation on her face when he walked in. He was going to make it slow, slow but hard. It was true. He hated the bitch.

“So, let’s go upstairs, Arape said. Everything is ready. By the way, we are invited to the Palace Wednesday night. The President came by and picked up some prisoners for fun and games, the Weber twins among them, but he was called away for a few days, trouble in the Northern Province. A truckload of foreign nuns were stopped on a deserted road, raped, tortured and killed. The President won’t stand for that kind of unsolicited violence. But he wants to throw a little party with entertainment for you on his return.”

Mr. Carsten was very pleased. He knew the fucking liberal professor and his beautiful wife Elizabeth. Taking part in raping and torturing their young daughters will be a nice bonus indeed. He would have liked to have a go at Elizabeth too, but knew she was off limits. Arape had taken a fancy to her and hawks don’t share. Particularly not a hawk like Arape. “OK, off to the races” he said to Arape, grinning from ear to ear. “I think we can do the job in twenty four hours or so”.

The doctor prepared for the examination. An autopsy was hardly necessary, but he might do one anyway just for the fun of it, imagining that the victim were still alive when he started cutting. But it was hard to see the body of the once beautiful woman on the slab as a living, walking and talking individual. It was probably the most mutilated victim he had ever seen after a torture session and he wondered how they could have kept her alive for so long. She had been brought down after a full day and night in the interrogation room.

The doctor was previously often called to the interrogation room in to check on the victims and give shots of stimulants to wake them up and to sharpen their sense of pain. To his regret he was never, like in the old days, allowed to join in the fun. Nowadays he just prepared the syringes for Arape and Brutal who administered it themselves. He was an old man who had lost his sexual drive after testicle cancer, but he still enjoyed the sexual and mental torture of the victims. And often enough he had a victim on the slab in the morgue or in the sick room. He always took great pleasure in his examinations or autopsies, imagining the vile scenes and brutalities that could have inflicted such damage on their bodies. This morning he had the old jailer with him. That was always useful and pleasurable. He had watched most of it from his vantage point in the attic and could fill in the details when the doctored wondered how the damaged was really done.

Bente was spread out cold and naked on his table. Her fine body bearded the marks of vile and cruel torture. Her face was not only puffed and swollen. The nose was broken, the jaw unhinged and broken too. Her lips were bitten through and cut and they had drilled her sound, white teeth with a small portable drill. Her mutilated and pieced tongue protruded from a red open cavity that had once been her lovely mouth. Sometime, probably late in the process her eyelids had been cut away. Patches of her auburn hair had been torn loose, the rest of her hair patched to her skull by blood and sweat. And in spite of all the damage you could see that this once, just a few hours ago, had been a very pretty face. He examined her ears and found that the left eardrum was broken, blood had been sipping out. The right ear showed damage too, but not as severe. The back of her neck had small sharp cuts, properly marks from fingernails holding her head still, as in a vice. At the top of her long lovely neck, just under the chin a red, deep line showed where a piano-wire had dug into her throat. But he doubted that she had been strangled.

“Hell, no said the jailer. That was just the game with naked feet on the ice block. They hooked her cuffed hands high on the pole with the piano-wire just a tiny bit looser, to the pole round her neck. When the ice slowly melts you get stretched and the wire ever tighter, but the real weight of your body is on your arms. It can strangle you, though, if not done right. See those burn marks in her armpits? Those and a lot of the others were done at that time to keep her warm, so to speak. It was real funny to see her trying to balance on the slippery ice while twisting her body as a reaction to the burning. She slipped more than a few times, but they just lifted her feet back on the block. And to cool her cunt a little, and believe me it saw industrial strength duty. Brutal had fun forcing a gigantic frozen ice dildo up her cunt. But it couldn’t have been all bad for this bitch. Bet the ice was soothing her raw cunt. That ugly man-woman from the border police had just before ripped into her with a big studded dildo. After the boys had had their fill in all cavities, of course. I think she all told was raped twelve, thirteen times on the big black couch, on the steel table, the rack, even on the floor, not counting the dyke. That stranger, whoever he is, was the worst. Most perverted rapist and torturer I have ever seen, a real pleasure watching him work. I think even Arape was impressed.”

The doctor smiled and went back to the examination. Both her fine shoulders were cut from fingernails digging into her flesh and they were black and blue from hands pinning her down and the flanks were heavily marked to. Several ribs were broken and this must have contributed to her breathing difficulty during the session.

“You bet, breathing difficulty, said the jailer. They played a lot of games, plastic bag over her head or pressing that big, dirty cushion over her face while electro-torturing her. Good, clean fun. They had her stretched out on that medieval rack, her body hovering a few centimetres above the bed while working on her, you know that rack has small humps were the ropes passes to the wrists and ankles.”

Indeed, thought the doctor. Her wrist and ankles were terribly shafted and the thin ropes had cut deep. Her joints were swollen and torn. Her chest and lovely breasts has evidently had a hard time in the wringer, the whole area was black and blue with sharp red welts and cuts from a knife or razor. She had been flogged all over her body, red thick stripes everywhere and in some places, particularly on her legs, the skin had started to peel. Her nipples were crushed and pierced by needles, skewers and fishhooks. Blood had been sipping from the ring around the aureoles. Her tits had been stretched by the nipples till the skin broke. One nipple was torn half loose. Other pieces of loose skin and meat attested to the use of pliers. The slopes of her breast were severely burned by a Zippo or more likely a small blowtorch. Burn marks from cigarettes were spread all over her body.

“Oh, yeah, they loved to play with fire. Everywhere from her foot soles to her nose tip and earbobs. See those marks on her buttocks? That was Arape using a soldering iron from the side while the stranger was raping her the second time. Arape worked up a good counter rhythm. Each time the stranger trusted, Arape made the bitch buck. A good show, and her screams and desperate sounds were wonderful. That little blowtorch was also busy, particularly a little late in the game, being put to good use on her cunt and tight ass too. And I can tell you this woman was a fine screamer. In the end, though, her voice was just a croaking, screeching animal sound. She wasn’t much of a pleader or much for begging, though, and that made the stranger furious. She only begged for the little one.”

Her torso bearded the marks of heavy blows to the internal organs, particularly the kidneys. Sharp and ugly wounds and indents had also been made by a brass knuckle. The crotch was totally black and blue indicating cruel rape and vile mistreatment. The cunt was one gaping hole of raw meat and dried blood, mixed with piss and dry stool. She had been shaved, but what had happened after that was hard to guess, except that a lot of hard, sharp and long instrument had been used. He was sure that a more thorough examination would reveal that she was all ripped apart inside all the way up the cervix and beyond. Her thighs and long legs were covered in coagulated blood.

“Sure, they really worked on the vagina, said the jailer. It actually started by that stranger walking straight over to her, she was suspended from a beam, one leg drawn high to the side, and he kicked her full force in the groin. She had started to say something, apparently she recognized him, but her words was lost in a deep, strange bellowing, all air being forced out of her. Later they let that crazy dyke shave her and she cut her, of course, not deep but bad enough. Did the same thing to the young one, she did, shaving the cunt I mean, but that wasn’t much of a job, she had a light blonde little beaver. The girl was stretched out on the steel table, that big hard cushion under her ass.”

“Well, what happened to the girl, asked the doctor. I got a glimpse of her, a tasty little peace. Beautiful little thing, indeed.”

“Hardly little, said the jailer. She is even taller than her aunt. Did you know they are related? Don’t worry, she is gonna end up on your slab, but the stranger wanted to preserve her for a while for further games. He said he wanted her for dessert. It was funny, in the beginning they played games, starting to rape and hurt the little one, Ellen is her name, and giving Bente the option of stopping it by taking her place. It worked fine for a while, that Bente was a good trooper trying to protect her niece and got the brunt of the hard rape and torture. But I think she realized after a while that it made no difference, that they both were going to die anyway, or maybe her pain fogged mind just blew, not caring anymore. That’s when they all concentrated only on Bente here, with the girl as a screaming, desperate witness. You know, the serious damage that killed her in the end was done from that point on, the heavy beating, the serious burning, the crunching of feet, toes and fingers, nails being ripped out, jaw and nose broken, the pliers tearing flesh and nipples and the bloody cutting of flesh. The electricity and the flogging, the whole package. Let’s turn her over and you can take a look at her back and what used to be a tight delicious asshole. It looks even worse than the cunt. You know that stranger would never let up, doing new vile thing all the time to squeeze out of her the last screeches of total pain and desperation.”

Indeed he was right, thought the doctor. Nobody could sustain that sort of hard torture for very long. They had been at her for twenty four hours, with only short brakes to recuperate, a little laughing, drinking and eating between sessions. All ready again with a new hard on after having taken turn with a little nap. He wanted to come up to the attic with the old jailer and watch through the floor the next game with the beautiful, teenage girl.

To be continued—