Raped to Death
(m+/ff, inc, ped, rape, snuff)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.com

Shannon Harris sat on the living room couch and watched her older brother Mark out of the corner of her eye. Mark was sitting in their dad's recliner, sipping beer and keeping one hand stuffed down his pants while he watched the tape playing on the TV.

Every now and then Mark would look over at her and smile. Mark was what you would call handsome: tall, well-built (he lifted weights every day), with shaggy dark brown hair and gray eyes. He had a handsome, friendly face... most of the time.

Shannon felt giddy whenever her brother looked at her. He hadn't been the same person all week. He'd been acting strange, sometimes mean, sometimes... weird. All of this had started a week ago, when her parents had left to spend the summer in Mexico and left her with Mark.

Mark was eighteen and old enough to take care of them both. Shannon was just eleven. She'd looked forward to having the summer with Mark. The two of them were very close. At least until now, she thought.

Mark had never had a girlfriend, though girls called all the time and asked him out. Mostly he hung around with her and her friends, sort of like a chaperon. And they all liked having him around. He was a lot of fun and like a kid sometimes.

But all that changed shortly after their parents left. Mark's behavior first showed itself as they were driving home from the airport. He'd suddenly pulled over and put his arms around her, giving her a firm, deep kiss on the mouth. Mark had kissed her on the mouth before, but they had always been quick, sweet kisses. This time it was anything but sweet. Mark shoved his tongue into her mouth and she nearly gagged. Finally she'd managed to twist away, nearly in tears.

"Stop Mark, please!" she'd begged. He'd hugged her very tightly, telling her he just wanted to show how much he loved her. Shannon wanted very much to believe that, because she loved her older brother. So she'd accepted it. She'd even let him kiss her again. He was gentle this time, but the kiss was deep. He'd used his tongue again, too. Then he'd told her that every time he kissed her, for the rest of the summer, it was going to be like that. Shannon accepted it.

From there, everything went downhill. As soon as they got home, her sweet, loving brother sat her down and ticked off his "rules" like a drill instructor. She was not to leave the house without telling him. She was not to tell anyone what he did to or with her, or anything that went on at the house, especially not adults, and especially not their parents!

"You're mine this summer, and you'll do as I say," he told her. Shannon, still being innocent at her age, had agreed. Even if Mark was acting funny.

Mark had other things he wanted, as well. She was to sunbathe for at least one hour per day on the back porch - nude. Shannon didn't like the sound of that - what if somebody saw? But she agreed to do it. Further, she was to shower daily - with him.

Shannon told him no. It was bad enough he wanted her to sunbathe nude - but take showers with him? Innocent as she was, Shannon knew something was wrong. She refused to do what Mark told her.

"Fine. Then when mom and dad call, I'll tell them you've been bad. And you'll never get that pony you wanted. Remember?"

Shannon had gasped. Her parents had promised that if she was good all summer, she'd get a pony for her birthday in September. A real one she would ride on weekends and during the summer. But if Mark said she was bad. She agreed to do what he wanted. Mark had been pleased.

That night, and the rest of the week, Mark had kept her at home, letting her see none of her friends, telling them she was sick. During that time a lot happened to change Shannon's perceptions of her brother.

Aside from the kissing, showers and sunbathing, Mark started using swear words around her. He'd never done that before. His favorite was "fuck." The first time they were in the shower, he introduced her to his penis, which he called "Mr. Stiffy." It certainly was stiff, Shannon saw, as it bobbed in front of her eyes. Mark had explained to her what was done with it, pointing out the precious parts of her young body as well.

It was the first time Shannon had actually considered herself. She was a pretty girl, with golden blonde hair that fell in teased waves past her shoulders, and green eyes, like her mom's. Her small body was slender, already developing curves, her tiny breasts just forming, with the pink nipples contrasting against her newly tanned skin. Her tiny slit was flat against her abdomen, her ass small and tight, and her legs long and shapely.

Shannon had been a little afraid then that Mark might put his cock, as he called it, into her mouth or her cunt, as he called her slit, while they were in the shower. But he didn't. He was actually very nice to her.

That first shower, Shannon also had her first orgasm. Mark had insisted on soaping her down, paying special attention to her cunt. As his hand played over her, moving back and forth, then in gentle circles, she'd felt strange stirrings run up her abdomen, teasing her insides and making them quiver. She began to pant, her whole body trembling now. Mark slipped his finger into her. It hurt a little, but not much, because he didn't go far, but the teasing, tingling feeling increased.

"Whats... happening?" she panted, leaning against Mark as her knees grew weak.

"Feel good?" Mark asked.

"Y-Yes!" she panted.

"You're having an orgasm," Mark told her. "Want more?"

"Yes!"

Mark had rubbed a little faster, a little harder, and the feeling got better, overwhelmed her, and her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed against him, panting and trembling and out of breath.

When she was finally able to straighten up, Mark showed her how to do it herself. She plunged her little finger in as she instructed, feeling around. There was a wall of flesh in there that stopped her probing, and when she pushed on it, she hurt. She told Mark. He told her it was her cherry, and she'd lose it soon enough. He didn't tell her how. She just assumed it would go away itself.

After the shower, Mark dried her off and took her to his room, where he had her lay down and then he spread her legs. This time, he used his mouth down there, and it was even better.

After that, things were sort of normal. She spent the afternoon with Mark doing house chores, then he wanted to play. The game he wanted to play was called Kidnapped. They'd played it before, lots of times. Mark would pretend to grab her, then tie her up and gag her. After a while he'd let her go.

Today was different, though. After he tied her up and gagged her, he pulled her shorts and panties down and fingered and sucked her to two orgasms. Shannon found she liked it. Mark's behavior no longer worried her, in fact - it was enjoyable. At the time.

Over the next two days, it was pretty much the same. At night Mark brought home porno tapes, either ones he rented or ones that came in plain boxes. The rented ones were of men and women, but the other ones were with girls like her, sometimes with two or three men. Mark insisted Shannon play with herself while she watched, so she did. Just watching gave her a funny feeling.

After a while, though, she noticed that the girls on the tapes didn't seem to be having much fun, especially when the men put their cocks in the girls mouths or cunts, and even their asses! On the last tape, it got even weirder. In this one the girls were tied up and gagged, and some bled when the men put their cocks into the girl's cunts. Shannon could hardly watch. Mark, on the other hand, was getting very excited. He had taken out his cock and was jerking it wildly. He came three or four times, too. He'd told Shannon that something came out when a man played with it, but she'd never seen it before!

The first time he came, Mark had scooped it up on his fingers and told Shannon to lick it off. When she'd refused, he threatened to say she'd been bad. So she'd licked it off. It was salty sweet and gooey, but it wasn't too bad. When Mark had come again, he'd told her to lick it off his body. She'd done so quickly. She had seen more on his cock, but he told her not to worry about it yet.

And so it went on, until in one scene, a pretty, dark haired girl in a brownie scout uniform was led in. She was bound and gagged but quiet, not crying. Shannon thought she looked familiar.

"I know her!" she said.

Mark jumped up and switched off the VCR. "Okay, enough for tonight," he'd announced. "Go to bed."

"But..."

"Go!"

So Shannon went. She'd considered sneaking down to look again, but didn't want to get Mark mad. Besides, the films worried her. It was fun doing things with her brother, whom she trusted - weird as he'd been - but with strangers, she could never do it.

On the following day, the weirdness got weirder. She got up to dress and saw that someone had been in her closet. On closer inspection, she realized all of her pants were gone, as were all of her long holiday dresses, flip flops and anything but a few pairs of dress slippers and sneakers. Her other dresses and shorts were still left, but her tube tops and tank tops were gone as well. But something else was there. Several pairs of pantyhose, all sheer nudes, with holes stitched in front and back. Along with them were several pairs of white cotton little girl panties, similarly stitched.

Shannon was wondering about all this when Mark walked in. Without a word he pointed to the bed. Shannon lay down and spred her legs for him, and he fingered her roughly to orgasm. It hurt more than it felt good.

"Now got get some sun, shower and get dressed," he told her coldly. Shannon did as she was told, then returned to get dressed. Mark had laid out her clothes: a pair of the crotchless panties, a pair of hose, a white long sleeve blouse and vest, a short denim skirt and white slippers. He watched her while she dressed, then pushed her down on the bed.

"This first," he told her, pulling out a coil of rope his back pocket. He used it to tie her wrists together behind her back. Grabbing a pair of panties from her drawer, he stuffed them in her mouth.

Shannon knew what was going to happen next, because of the tapes last night. She lay there, frozen in horror, as Mark took his pants down, freeing his huge, hard cock. He climbed up between her legs and shoved his finger into her, starting another orgasm, despite her fear.

"I'm going to fuck you, sis," he told her. "Hell, I'm going to rape you! And this isn't going to be it. No way. I'm going to do it all summer. And other guys are going to do it with you. You've teased me long enough, baby sister!"

Shannon screamed, but the gag stopped it. Mark's hips thrust forward, pushing into her. She screamed again. He was at her hymen. He thrust once more.

Shannon gasped. It felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She felt her hymen tear. She felt Mark slide far up inside of her, deeper than ever before. And it really hurt.

Her scream was more of a pained moan; the world was flashing, spinning, moving in and out. Mark was leering at her, her own brother, moving in and out of her. Raping her.

So that was what this was called, she found herself thinking. It hurts so bad. The pain was all she was aware of. Not the tears on her face, not the fact that Mark was dumping his load of cum in her underdeveloped womb, his entire body shaking with his own orgasm.

The rape went on for hours, Mark spending himself in her time and again, to the point that he was actually hurting himself. She drifted, unaware, until... the teasing. It was there. Shannon was suddenly aware of it, among the pain and the discomfort. That good feeling again, building. Even though her insides burned, it was there. Mark was moving slowly now, looking tired. The sun was lower in the sky where it hung outside her window. Shannon began to moan.

"It's about fucking time," Mark muttered.

Her orgasm hit her with glorious force, washing away everything. Immediately, she passed out.


When she woke later that evening, she was in bed, naked and sore. But she'd been untied and Mark was leaning over her, looking more like his old self. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you so badly, sis," he told her softly.

Shannon started crying. "Why, Mark?"

"Because you're so hot, sis. You're gorgeous and I've wanted to fuck you for a long time. So when mom and dad left, I knew I had a chance. Except that I couldn't do it unless I had complete control. I had to rape you."

"But why?" she sobbed.

Mark stroked her hair gently. "Okay, listen. I'm a control freak, all right? You're not the first little girl I've done this to. See, there's these guys I met up with, and their like me. Somehow they found out about you and wanted me to bring you around so they could rape you. But I was afraid they'd hurt you too much. I know I hurt you when I raped you, but I didn't hit your or beat you, okay? I could never hurt you like that. But those guys... I wanted you to be ready."

"Are you going to rape me again? Are they?"

"Yeah. We all are."

"No!"

Suddenly Mark's face hardened. "Now you listen, sis. I'm trying to be nice. Like it or not, you're going to get it. You agree to let me, and anybody else, and I'll do my best to help you have orgasms everytime. And I'll tell mom and dad you were really good this summer. It's not much of a price to pay. Your virgnity for a new pony."

Shannon, lacking the experience and knowledge older girls had, considered it. Somehow, a pony seemed more important than letting men use her body. She didn't know much about dignity or self-respect, you see.

"Okay, Mark. But please, no more tonight."

Mark's face softened. "No more tonight. Tomorrow you'll suck me, though, and I'll fuck your ass. Then you get a day to rest, okay? Then I want to show you something."

Shannon nodded. She thought she might even get to like it - especially if she could have orgasms. "Okay."

"Good girl. There's more to this, sis, that I'll tell you right now. Now go to sleep."

"Stay with me, Mark?" she begged. "Just don't... don't do anything, okay?"

"Okay," Mark agreed.

Mark did not stay, however. After his sister was asleep, he picked up the phone and dialed his parents hotel in Mexico. It took a bit to get connected, but when he was on, he was all too pleased to hear his father's voice.

They talked for a long time, then hung up. Yawning, Mark returned to his little sister, eager to snuggle up to her naked, warm body.

The following day Mark spent raping her ass. He left her naked and but tied and gagged her. He was pretty gentle - he told her he didn't like doing asses much. He even taught her how to take it without much hurt. Shannon learned quickly.

And so, Shannon found herself sitting on the couch, feeling giddy as she watched Mark. She didn't know why, but soon, she would.

Shannon turned her attention to the porn flick on the TV. Shannon watched closely as women went up and down on guys cocks, studying the things they did. So did Mark.

Shannon had learned something else that day, as well. When Mark tied her hands, or just handled her roughly, she got hot and wet. That was good, because after dinner, Mark had tied her hands and broken his promise by raping her. The wetness made things hurt a lot less, and she'd enjoyed it. It became more enjoyable when she screamed, since that really turned Mark on. Even the pain added to it all, and soon she found herself wanting Mark to rape her again and again, even to hurt her.

When Mark was done, he didn't untie her. She'd begged him to do it again, eager to have his stiff cock in her. But he was limp now, and none of it did any good.

"Beg me not to," he told her.

"Please Mark, no more," she begged, putting as much fear into her voice as she could. His cock started to harden. The more she pleaded and cried, the harder it got. And when he raped her again, she loved it.

When it came time to suck his cock, Shannon resisted. It turned both of them on. She was actually a little scared, and the fear turned her on even more. He pushed her, resisting, until his cock was in her mouth, pushed until she choked. Only then did he let up, and Shannon went to work on his shaft, sucking, licking and blowing until his hot cum was shooting down her throat.

He raped her six times that night, mouth and cunt and once up the ass. She loved every second. She found she liked to be treated roughly, to be hurt without being whipped or slapped or beaten.

Afterward, Mark showed her the rest of the tape. She did know the Brownie scout; her name was Missy, and three years ago, she'd disappeared. On the tape, three men and a boy - Mark, no less - were raping her. It turned Shannon on. She wished she could trade places with that girl. The idea of being held captive, raped and used and abused like that, turned her on endlessly. She asked Mark whatever happened to Missy, and he told her that after they were done, she was turned over to another group of guys who used her in a snuff film.

"She was raped, tortured and finally killed," Mark told her. For some reason, Shannon got even more excited. She questioned Mark endlessly about how they got Missy and what it was like, then asked him when she could get some strange guys to do her.

"Not right away, and not alone," Mark told her. "Give it a few days. I want to be there to be safe. After that, well... you could always be sold, or let some guy pick you up. But you might get killed." He said the last thing without much concern.

"I don't care," Shannon insisted, lost in her lust. "I want to be taken and raped and used. I really do!"

That night, Shannon fantasized about strange men luring her into their cars, of dozens of escaped convicts raping her young body. The next day she and Mark rented as many rape videos as they could get, and Mark got some more unmarked ones. Shannon soon added having her nipples pinched and clothes torn to her fantasies.

For the remainder of the two weeks Mark kept her around the house, her fantasies grew. With Mark's help they began to write them down on his computer and sent them to bulletin boards he was on. The fantasies got darker, with her winding up dead or even tortured in some. In still others, she'd begun to add her friends, particularly her best friend Julie Roberts. The idea of Julie getting it really turned her on.

For the time being, however, it was just her and Mark. As the week drew to a close, he raped her less and less. Over the last two days, he didn't touch her at all.

On the morning of the last day he told her they were going shopping. Once more he laid out her clothes: a white long sleeve blouse and an acid washed mini skirt, white slippers - the clothes she'd first been raped in. He gave her a pair of the crotchless panties and the holey hose to wear as well. She was practically shaking with excitement, realizing how many men would see her.

They drove to the mall. It was a huge place, two stories, and easy to get lost in. Somehow, she did, becoming separated from Mark. Up until last week, she'd have been terrified. Now she was excited.

She got a lot of looks, and eventually, a young man approached her. He asked her her name and then asked her if she'd like to have some pictures taken. She went along eagerly.

He led her to a van in the lot and helped her in - then shoved her to the floor and pinned her down. Shannon screamed and he slapped her. Not very hard, but enough that she knew to be quiet, and enough to scare her. Either way, she was already getting wet.

Shannon begged him not to hurt her, forcing tears that came all too easy. He just grinned and dropped his pants. He wasn't as big as Mark, but he'd do. He flipped up her skirt and stared at the hose underneath.

"What's this?"

"M-My b-brother w-wants me to wear them," she said.

"Smart," he laughed, and slammed into her.

Shannon screamed. That hurt! But she liked it anyway. The man's hand clamped over her mouth and his other hand caught her wrists and held them together as he had his way with her. Shannon hid her orgasm behind whimpers and sobs. The guy neither seemed to notice nor care that she was wet and not a virgin. Mark had told her to lie and say she had an accident that caused her hymen to tear, in case anybody asked, and she didn't know why she was wet. He said that probably wouldn't matter, anyway.

As her orgasm hit, something else occured to Shannon - Mark wasn't there. He said he would be, too, but he wasn't. Suddenly she realized that this man was indeed a total stranger... and she was at his mercy.

The stranger came a minute or so later, spewing his load inside of her. He pulled out and made her lick him clean. "Not bad," he told her. When he finishd, he tied her hands behind her and gagged her with a strip of tape, then tied her ankles. Then he climbed into the driver's seat and they took off.

Shannon realized, with a thrill of excitement and terror, she would probably die today. She wondered how, and would he torture her first?

The van stopped about half an hour later, and the side door opened. Four men in leather jackets and chains got in. Bikers. Shannon felt her heart leap.

Over the next six hours Shannon endured a brutal gang rape that stretched her young body to the limits. There were fifteen men in all, and each took her every way he could, in positions she'd never imagined. Her clothes were torn off, she was slapped, her cunt and stomach punched several times when she resisted. She was choked unconcious twice while they raped her, bringing on untold orgasms.

After the first hour, all of her excitment and lust faded and gave way to fear. By the sixth hour she was numb inside and sore outside. They dumped her unceremoniously out of the van into a grass patch beneath some trees, leaving only her ankles untied. After a while she managed to get up and started walking.

It wasn't long before she was picked up by four high school boys. With her clothes in tatters, her hands bound behind her and only slippers on her feet, three of them took turns on her. It didn't matter that she was only eleven. It didn't matter that she'd been used. They saw pussy and they took it.

The fourth boy took her when the others were done and held her tightly. She cried into his shoulder, needing the comfort. Eventually the other boys dropped her and him off near another car.

As soon as the others drove off, he raped her, too. He called her slut and whore and said she deserved it. She felt she did.

When he was done, he at least took her home. That was when he revealed he knew her and Mark. He didn't say anything else.

Five minutes later she stumbled inside. Mark jumped up from the couch and ran over to her, holding her tight. He untied her, got her to the shower, and put her to bed. He was good the whole time. She told him everything, and then he gave her a sleeping pill and she was out like a light.

She spent the next three days in bed recovering. Not only physically, but mentally. And found that, in retrospect, she'd enjoyed herself. Only now did she realize that. It was terrifyingly fun.

When she finally got out of bed, Mark told her Julie had been by. A slow, sly smile crossed her face. "Mark, do you think maybe Julie would... join me?" she asked.

Mark grinned. "I think that could be arranged."

Shannon had spent much of the last three days reflecting on her feelings during the rape. Being raped by her brother had been one thing. She knew and trusted and loved her brother and deep down, knew that though he was hurting her, he still loved her and he would somehow make it all better. By that, she meant, he would bring her to orgasm. And afterward, no matter how brutal the assault, he would treat her well.

Strangers were different, and it was in that that Shannon found the true excitement of the rape. You never knew what a stranger would do, and that scared her. She liked that fear. On top of that was the knowledge that this person was a total stranger - and he was free to use her as he wished, to view and touch and fondle her most private parts, while she was powerless to stop him.

Being helpless, being roughly handled - these turned her on in ways she would never imagine. There was also the suddeness of the attack - it might come anytime, anywhere, by almost anyone. You never knew just how many would do it, or how often it would happen. Shannon fantasized about being raped in her own bed, or being pulled into a car, or even being raped in school, spread eagled on a desk while every teacher and male student had his way with her.

And then, there was the pain. Shannon found it exciting. Pain increased her orgasms and made her weak. When the bikers had punched her cunt during the rape, she had come instantly. Being choked into unconsciousness had been a wild, powerful climax for her.

All of this, the fear, the pain, the unknowing and the helplessness, the strangeness - all of it drew her to be raped again and again.

Shannon also wanted to see how it was for other little girls. She wanted to see them get raped. She'd begged Mark to take her along when he went out to rape other little girls. He promised he would, after she helped him get her best friend, Julie Roberts. Shannon was eager to see Julie get raped, and she knew Julie would like it as much as she did. If she didn't, Shannon didn't care. Her own needs and desires had displaced anything else, a fantasy so strong nothing mattered but having it fulfilled.

For now, she was stuck at home. Most of the bruises she'd sustained during the gang rape had healed, but Mark wanted her to stay home for at least another day. He was acting like her big brother again, treating her with kid gloves, instead of using and abusing her body as he had only a few days ago.

Shannon gave in, submissive as usual, and did as Mark told her. She had to confine herself to masturbating to her fantasies or the numerous sex tapes Mark had. Mark didn't provide her any relief. In fact, he was acting like he felt guilty for what he'd done to her.

Mark was always home, either cleaning the house or watching the tapes with her. When he was with her, he watched her intently, his eyes gleaming as he followed her fingers, moving in and out of her cunt.

Eventually she got to the tape of the Brownie scout, Missy. Mark had let her see the rest a few nights ago - or so she thought. She'd been too busy questioning him about what happened to Missy to watch the rest.

This time, she decided to watch.

As it got to the last part she'd seen, little Missy, only seven, lay bound and gagged and sobbing on the bed. Her uniform was ripped to shreds and blood from her torn hymen coated her abdomen and inner thighs. Mark and the men were standing around her, stark naked and panting. Shannon masturbated slowly, imagining herself in young Missy's place. She figured the film was over, since Mark had told her that they'd given Missy to some other guys who'd raped, tortured and killed her.

Suddenly, one of the men leaned forward and slapped the little girl hard, across the face. Missy screamed and was slapped again. Another man punched her cunt, making her double up. Mark and the others straightened her out, while the last man produced a pair of C-clamps, which he attached to the girl's nipples.

Shannon bit her lip. She knew that had to hurt, and wanted to feel it at the same time. She began to masturbate faster, her fingers working in and out of her furiously, her orgasm nearing it's climax.

And then the totally unexpected happened. Mark got on the bed, forcing his cock into the little girl. Clutched in his right hand was a knife. Mark began raping the little girl, while his left hand moved up under her chin, forcing her head back, exposing her soft, white throat.

Shannon stared, half in disbelief and half in total excitement, as Mark reached up with the knife and slit the little girl's throat from ear to ear.

Without warning Shannon suddenly climaxed, the most powerful orgasm she'd ever felt. She let out a shrieking moan and nearly fell off the couch, her insides clutching together as the full force of the orgasm passed through her. Her eyes lit briefly on the screen, where Mark was continuing to rape the dying girl, whose blood was pouring out of her throat, all over the bed.

Slowly, shaking violently with the power of her climax, Shannon got to her feet. The tape had faded to black now, the last sight Mark screaming with delight as he came in the girl. With what seemed like all the effort she could muster, Shannon hit the rewind button.

She let it go a few seconds, then hit PLAY. The scene started over with the man punching the girl's cunt. Shannon hit PAUSE and sat down, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She could hardly believe what she'd seen - or how it had felt to see it!

She'd masturbated to a few dark fantasies with her own death in them, but actually seeing a young girl die - a girl not much younger than she was - was powerfully erotic. She shoved her fingers into her cunt and began to masturbate furiously, hitting the PAUSE button again before sitting back, pinching at her nipples as well, putting herself once more in Missy's place.

She could imagine it now, the pain, the horror, watching as Mark entered the girl, imagining not Mark, but some stranger, entering her, raping her, hurting her, and then the knife, the sharp knife against her slender throat, the pain of it biting in, the man still raping her -

This time she did fall off the couch, the orgasm so strong she doubled over, moaning in orgasmic pleasure. Mark came running in and stopped, gaping at the TV. "Shit!" he yelled, and hit the STOP button.

"No!" Shannon protested, her body shaking furiously as the orgasm continued its assault on her. Her slender thighs quivered around her fingers, still buried deep between her bare labia lips, the tips brushing at her clit, stimulating her more and more. "No, Mark! Again! Play it again!"

Mark stared at her for a moment, a look of curious confusion and absolute glee on his face, then rewound the tape and played it again. Over and over they did it, Shannon's orgasms crashing into her with force, sending her mind and body to new heights of pleasure. Six, seven, eight times, and finally, she was too weak to go on.

Mark lifted her up, gently, and laid her on the couch. "You really liked that?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Oh Mark, yes!" she cried. "Yes! It was so nasty! And you - " She stared at her brother, suddenly frightened. She was alone, with not only a rapist, but a murderer. The fright suddenly heightened her sense of pleasure, giving her a giddy thrill. She was truly enjoying walking the dangerous edge. "You cut her throat!"

"Yeah," Mark answered gleefully. "Shit, sis, if you liked it that much, I'll fuck you a lot more! I've just been nice to you because I thought you'd suffered so bad, and I guess I felt pretty bad about that, because I wasn't there to stop it, but - " He didn't finish. Instead, he slapped her across the face, a stinging slap, and threw himself onto her.

Shannon awoke to bright morning sunshine streaming in her window and the soft snoring of her brother next to her. She was a little surprised at being able to move; Mark must have raped her a dozen times last night, driving her right to the point of exhaustion.

He was like an animal. Brutal, his cock not just slamming, but RAMMING into her, like a pile driver. It had been so painful, so brutal, she was in tears, but not even that had stopped Mark. He just kept going, calling her a "slut" and a "whore" and a "dirty cocksucking fuckbitch" and a whole slew of other foul names.

She'd liked it anyway. The more brutal he got, the more powerful her orgasms became. Right up to the point where he'd started choking her, squeezing her throat until she finally blacked out. That, had been absolutely the best.

She slid out of bed, standing uneasily on shaky legs. She was still pretty sore. She looked over to Mark. It was hard to believe her brother was a killer. He didn't look like one. Shannon had always believed killers were greasy men who didn't shave and wore long black jackets and sunglasses - like the Terminator. Of course, she'd thought the same thing about rapists, too.

She padded quietly into the bathroom and showered, then laid out on the sundeck to get her daily tan. She was just coming in when Mark stepped in her way, a maniacal grin on is face.

"Oh, sis..."

Shannon tried to bolt, but he grabbed her arms and threw her down on the bed, pinning her with his body. Shannon squirmed, but it was useless. In less than a few seconds Mark had his cock in her and was pumping away, forcing her to orgasm.

"That was fantastic," Mark moaned, pulling out of her. "Now go take a shower. And wash your cunt out real good." He turned and left the room.

Shannon showered again, expecting Mark to show up at any moment. She loved never knowing when he was going to attack her again.

Mark was waiting when she got back to her room. He was fully dressed and showed little interest in her, even those his eyes kept roving her tiny, naked body. "Get dressed, slut," he told her. "We're going out."

Shannon was acutely aware of him watching her as she dressed. She put on a pair of pink cotton panties first - normal ones - and then a pair of snug, short white denim shorts that neatly encupped her ass cheeks and stretched tight across her cunt. She pulled on a short sleeve white blouse and tied it above her midriff, then finished the outfit with a pair of white tennis sneakers and a thin black belt.

"Not bad, slut," Mark snapped. "Now get over here."

Shannon made her way meekly over to him. He motioned for her to sit next to him. He made no move to touch her.

"We're going up to the lake today," he told her. "I want you to call Julie."

Shannon got up quickly. She was shaking, both from fear and excitement. "Julie?"

"That's who I said, didn't I?" Mark asked.

Shannon nodded. She hurried to the phone and dialed her best friends number. She dearly wanted sweet Julie to join her.

Halfway through dialing, she hung up. "Mark, are you going to rape her?" Shannon asked, almost eagerly, yet with a touch of guilt and fear.

"Yeah," Mark laughed.

"Can I help?"

Mark thought it over. "I guess, yeah. But you can't tell her what we've been doing. You'd ruin it. I want her to like it as much as you do."

Shannon nodded. She wanted Julie to share in this. She wanted to watch Mark rape Julie and teach her to enjoy what Shannon now enjoyed. And then, to let others use Julie.

Shannon eagerly dialed the phone now, fighting to contain her excitement. After a few minutes of meaningless chatter, she invited Julie to go up to the lake with her and Mark. Julie immediately accepted. It had been two weeks since she'd seen Shannon, having been told Shannon was "sick in bed."

As soon as she hung up, she turned to find Mark waiting, stark naked. He grabbed her and flung her onto her bed, holding a hand over her mouth while he climbed onto her. Shannon struggled and whimpered, turning him on even more, and then he was raping her.

Julie Roberts hung up the phone and squealed with glee. Shannon was all better, which meant an end to the boring two weeks she'd spent with nothing better to do that watch TV or join the other friends they had. Julie was especially close to Shannon, who was her best friend, even though Shannon was a-year older, at eleven.

Julie was pretty for ten. A small girl - four foot five - she was slender, her figure slightly curvacious, her legs long and trim. She was a natural redhead, her thick, wavy hair framing her young face and spilling over her shoulders and down her back, nearly to her waist. She had small, freckled cheeks and jade green eyes, which complimented her soft white skin.

Julie was also a little wiser than young Shannon in some ways. Her parents had divorced two years ago and the little girl had been forced to mature faster than most kids. It didn't detract from her innocence, however.

Julie liked to play with dolls and do other little girl things, but she also understood sex. She knew what a penis and a vagina were and how babies were made, and she knew good touch and bad touch. She knew what rape was, as well, and how painful and humiliating it could be. What she didn't know was how soon she'd find out, first hand.

Julie had been lounging in bed until Shannon called. She got up now, took a fast shower, and got dressed, putting on a short sleeve blouse and short white shorts with white sneakers. Under that she wore a white, two piece bathing suit, which she really didn't need. Julie's breasts had not yet developed to any great degree and the bikini top was more of a belt than a top. But it was still sexy.

She still had an hour left, so she packed up a towel and some things in a small bag to take with her, and made herself some breakfast. When she was done, she hurried over to Shannon's.

Mark stood by the window of his bedroom, watching for Julie. Shannon was in her own room, getting dressed again after he'd raped her. Mark was getting tired of raping his sister. It had been his greatest fantasy since he was thirteen - a fantasy denied him until now - and at first, it had been great. But now Shannon enjoyed it too much. He knew that when she resisted, it was more of an act than anything real. He was getting less and less satisfaction from it. Even brutally attacking her as he had last night didn't do it. Much of Shannon's innocence - the thing that had made her so appealing in the first place - was now fake.

He decided to give it some time before he raped her again. Maybe a few months, maybe a year - get her to believe he wasn't going to do it again, so when he did, it would be a shock. That, he figured, would be satisfying. In the meantime, he'd step back and watch others hurt his sister, maybe kill her. The idea was appealing.

For today, at least, he would rape Shannon a few more times, in front of Julie. It was part of a sick little plan he'd cooked up, knowing that Julie, in some ways, was more mature than Shannon, and would be harder to break down.

He might even have to kill her. The idea stirred up his loins. Mark had no compunction about killing; he'd murdered at least a dozen little girls since he was fourteen. He did, however, prefer not to. Killing them was risky, sometimes messy. And if you didn't kill them, there were always there to be used again. You simply had to scare them enough that they wouldn't tell, or get them to like it.

Mark knew he could even kill his sister. Last night, when he'd been choking her, he almost couldn't stop. The delight in watching her squirm had been too much. Only the realization that he'd never be able to hide it from his parents had stopped him.

He guessed he'd see. Today, he wanted Julie. She was fresh and innocent; her fear and pain would be real. Just like it had been with Shannon. He wanted to get Julie under his thumb, eventually. It didn't matter if she liked it or not, and would be better if she didn't. And after that, he wanted her twin sisters.

Shannon stepped quietly into the room and moved up to stand beside him. She was very quiet, but the eager gleam in her eyes as she stared out the window was enough to tell him what she was thinking.

Mark looked down at Shannon's outfit. It was the one one she'd put on earlier. Mark had bought her a whole new wardrobe with his parents credit card. Each outfit was sexy or cute, and from now on, that was all that Shannon would wear. Mark had long ago been told that clothes, especially shorts and short skirts, followed by a girl's legs, then her face and body, was what most often drew rapists. So everything that Shannon wore would look right on her, normal, but would also draw attention to her.

He heard the front door open downstairs. He smiled at Shannon. "Remember, just like we planned it. Don't let her know."

"I won't," Shannon promised with a giggle.

The lake was a secluded spot near a private lake that Mark's father partly owned. As such, they had it all to themselves, which made it perfect for the plan.

Julie sat in the back seat, smiling a sunny smile, as they drove up. Shannon sat in the front seat next to her brother, ready to burst with excitement. Everytime she looked back at Julie, she could imagine the fear and pain on her friend's face, how good it would look. How good it would feel for Julie when Mark's violating cock brought her to orgasm.

They drove down the small dirt road that led to the spot and got out. Mark had packed a lunch, but it would be a while before they ate. He wanted to get down to business first.

Julie loved coming to the lake, and was eager to escape the heat and get into the water. But Mark said no. "I found a nest of baby squirrels up here," he told her. "Why don't we go see?"

"I'll set up for lunch," Shannon offered.

Julie really wanted to spend the day with her friend, but she guessed a quick trip into the woods wouldn't be too much to ask. Besides, Julie loved animals.

Mark put his arm around her shoulders and led her deep into the trees, to a grassy clearing several hundred yards from the campsite. "Boy, Julie, you're really growing up," he told her. "I can't believe how pretty and sexy you're getting."

Julie blushed. "Thanks."

"Yeah, you really turn me on."

Julie started to feel uncomfortable. Turn him on? She knew that had something to do with sex. She tried to step away from Mark, but his arm tightened.

"Yeah, I think we should get it on." Mark spun her around, holding her by the arm. She saw his other hand fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. Julie screamed.

Mark pushed her to the ground and jumped on her, the full weight of his body knocking the wind out of her. She gasped as Mark's lips pressed against hers, forcing kisses from her mouth she didn't want to give. Mark had pinned her hands down, and she was only able to thrash and squirm, but it was no good. Mark was too big.

Then she saw Shannon come running up. She was carrying a blanket, it looked like. Maybe she'd heard the screams and come running. Julie tried to kick away, but Mark had her too well. He hauled the frightened ten-year old to her feet, twisting her arms together behind her back and clamping his hand tightly over her mouth.

Julie saw Shannon spread the blanket out, smiling. Was this a joke? Her terrified mind knew it wasn't. She could feel the press of Mark's cock against her back, stiff under his jeans.

Realizing now that her best friend had betrayed her, all the fight went out of Julie. Mark pushed her face down onto the blanket and tied her hands behind her with rope Shannon handed to him.

"You'll like this," Shannon told her. "Really!"

Mark yanked a strip of cloth between Julie's teeth and tied it behind her head. He rolled her onto her back and quickly pulled her shorts off. She felt Shannon press down on her shoulders, and then Mark tore the bikini bottoms away.

"Hurt her, Mark, hurt her!" Shannon was yelling. Julie watched Mark pull down his pants, his huge, swelling cock bursting free. Panicked anew, Julie held her legs together, but Mark easily forced them apart.

"You'll love this," Mark laughed, and went down on her.

Julie's body was exquisite. Soft, creamy skin and delicate pink, almost white, nipples, a small, flat slit like Shannon's. Julie looked down across it as Mark's huge shaft penetrated the outer folds and pushed against her maidenhead.

There was a brief sensation of something good, then horrible pain as Mark's hips thrust forward. She felt something inside of her stretching, the pain worse with each second. It was as if she were being split in half and was helpless to stop it.

Shannon leaned over her. "Doesn't it hurt wonderfully?" she asked.

Suddenly, whatever was stretching broke. Julie could feel it, magnifying the pain a hundred times. Her back arched, lifting her almost clear of the blanket as Mark's cock plunged further into her. She screamed in pain, feeling Mark pull out and plunge in again, forcing the tight, unused muscles of her sex canal to admit his huge cock.

"It's all the way in!" Shannon squealed with delight. "Fuck her, Mark! Fuck her!"

"Watch your language!" Mark snapped. "Man, she's fucking tight! Come on Julie, loosen up! You know you like this!"

"Yeah, you have to like, Julie! You're a dirty slut! Don't you just love Mark's cock being buried all the way in you? Isn't it great?"

Julie shook her head. She didn't like this and she wanted him to stop. She could never like this. It was horrible and it hurt and it made her feel dirty.

"Make her suck your cock, Mark. Fu - put it in her behind! I want to see your hurt her, Mark!" Shannon squealed. She had her hand shoved down her shorts, fingering herself madly. "Go on!"

Julie could believe none of this. Her own best friend had lured her into and let her be, raped. A boy - a man - she'd known and trusted all her life had bound and gagged her, then violated her, taking her virginity. And now Shannon was encouraging him to do more.

Julie felt like dirt. She felt like the lowest form of life on earth. She was a little girl who liked dolls and animals, and who took good care of her two little sisters.

Julie started. Would Mark go after them, next? Her sisters were twins, only five. Was that too young for Mark?

She looked at him. He looked crazy. His whole body was shuddering. He was gasping between clenched teeth, grunting like he was in pain. Julie knew he'd have no trouble doing this to her sisters.

And then the pain stole her thoughts away. Mark thrust forward, hard, his entire body shaking. Julie felt his cock swelling inside of her, felt it pulse, something warm filling her uterus. And then Mark collapsed on top of her again, gasping.

"Damn!" he muttered, pushing himself up, still buried inside of her. She watched him withdraw his cock, the shaft covered with her blood, and the sight of it almost made her faint.

She didn't have long to look, anyway, because Mark suddenly lifted her legs high, pushing them over her head. Through the V formed by her thighs she saw him coming in again, felt the tip of his cock brush her tight rectal hole. Immediately she tensed, but it only made things worse. Mark was pushing in, slowly but surely.

"You'd better fucking relax or this'll really hurt!" he told her, shoving more and more of his hard cock deep into her anus, into her bowels.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Shannon, her hand out of her shorts now, staring wide eyed and horrified at Mark. "Mark, no! Please, I did what you told me to do but I can't stand it! Leave her alone!"

"Then get out of here, you little whore! Go back to the car! And you better be there when I get back or I'll blow her fucking head off!" Mark shouted, sending Shannon scrambling.

Blow my head off? Julie thought, and began screaming, because that was all she knew now. At the same time, she also knew, or understood, what was happening. Mark had been doing this to Shannon - probably the whole time she'd been "sick." He'd probably promised to stop if Shannon would lure her out here. And now, she would be raped and killed.

The girl's ass was gloriously tight, even though she had relaxed some. Mark saw blood, but it was hard to say if he'd torn her ass or if that was her hymen blood from before. Either way, she was lucky. He was long but not terribly thick.

Mark climaxed inside the little girl and pulled out. He was spent, at least for the minute, and Julie seemed exhausted; her screams had become loud, wracking sobs, barely muffled by the gag. Mark tied her ankles and told her he'd be back, then stalked off toward the lake.

Shannon was waiting for him at the car. The look of horror on her face quickly became and ear to ear grin. "Think she bought it?" she asked.

Mark shrugged, heading for the lake shore. "Maybe." He wanted to wash up and get back to Julie. He stripped off his clothes and dove in, rubbing his hands all over his body to get clean.

After his quick bath, he took a bucket from the car and filled it with water and a bar of soap, then carried that and a washcloth back with him, Shannon tagging along. He'd already decided to forgo his earlier plan of letting Julie believe Shannonw as all for her. Instead, he had another idea.

Julie was where he'd left her, still sobbing. He told Shannon to clean her up while he knelt down beside the little girl's head, his cock dangling in her face. Julie turned her head away and he jerked it back.

"You hate me, huh?" he asked. Julie nodded. "Bet you're scared of me too, huh?" Julie nodded again. She shuddered a little as Shannon wiped the washcloth around her bloody slit.

"Bet that feels good, doesn't it?" Shannon asked. Julie nodded. Julie continued shuddering as Shannon cleaned her up.

"Now listen to me, Julie," Mark told the girl. "I've got a deal for you. You're not going to tell anybody about this. And I mean anybody. Furthermore, from now on, you belong to me. You'll do what I say, no matter what. Is that clear?"

Julie just stared. "Okay, you forced me. If you don't do what I say and want, your mom is going to suffer for it. The first time, she'll just get a good scare. After that, she'll get this. One guy. Then there were will more guys. Maybe she'll even be killed."

Julie shrieked and began to sob. "Shut up!" Mark snapped, slapping her lightly on the cheek. "It's up to you, Julie. I've had guys watching your mom for weeks now." That was a lie. But he could have somebody there with a single phone call. He knew people like that VERY well. "And don't think I won't. Understand?"

Julie nodded, still sobbing. "That's right. So from now on, you're mine. I'll rape you when and where I want. And so will others. In fact, you'll go out and try to make it happen. You're trash, Julie, and your body is for other people's use. You might even get to like it. Shannon will tell you all about orgasms and I'll show you. And you and Shannon will be good friends. And if you're really good, I'll stop hurting you very soon. Will you do it?"

Julie nodded. Mark smiled. "That's a girl. Oh, and Julie, you don't have to like it. In fact, I'd rather you didn't." Still grinning, he got up and walked over to Shannon.

"She isn't hurt," Mark noted, shoving his finger into the girl's cunt, then her ass, drawing it out clean. There were no outer tears, which meant she'd stretched pretty well under the onslaught.

"Just like me," Shannon said, getting all hot just looking at Julie's bare middle. "You're going to love it, Julie. Really. Look at me! I'm happy, letting strangers use me, letting Mark fuck me silly. We both deserve it. We're just dirty whores. Sure it hurts, but that's half the fun! It really makes orgasms great!" She grinned at Mark. "Can I show her?"

"Not right away. I'm not done yet. Go back to the car and get me a beer out of the cooler." He turned his attention back to Julie as Shannon scampered off. The little girl's eyes grew wide. She knew. And she didn't like it.

Mark flipped her over, pushing her legs under her and spreading them so her ass stuck almost straight up. He grabbed ahold of Julie's shaking hips and slid foward, his cock sliding against, then into, her little fuck hole.

Julie groaned in pain as she slid in, burying only about a third of himself in her, enough to hurt her and enough to make him feel good. He hadn't done many little girls dogstyle, but with Julie, it had always been a fantasy.

"Oh, yeah, Julie, yeah!" he moaned, using short, quick thrusts that jabbed at her, hurting her, making her scream. Her cunt was already responding, tightening and slickening with her cunt juices, and slowly but surely, her body began to shudder, her moans turn to screams as her first orgasm came upon her.

For a moment he couldn't understand why she'd have one so soon, whereas it had seemed to take Shannon forever - then he realized it must be the position. He must be hitting her G-spot. He'd had to remember that, because he didn't want Julie to always have orgasms. Her pain was much more fun.

Mark brought her to orgasm first, her little body quivering with sensation, her breath coming in short gasps and moans as it hit her, followed by sobs. She probably felt worse for having it, and Mark enjoyed that. He blew his load in the little girl and flipped her onto her back, raping her again.

By nightfall, he'd raped Julie at least a dozen times, and his cock and body were aching. He untied the girl and let her dress, then the three of them headed home. Julie stayed the night, at his "insistence," and Mark continued to use and abuse her, even teaching her the finer points of oral sex, which she picked up quickly.

Every day for the rest of the week he attacked her, sometimes only once, sometimes repeatedly. Shannon often helped, eating Julie out while he raped the girl's mouth or ass. Julie quickly learned to submit, but all the while the fear and hatred she felt for him was quite apparent. Only fear for her mother's life kept her in line.

By the end of that week, Julie was firmly under his thumb, just like Shannon. Not as accepting, of course, but stuck. She knew she couldn't get away and had to live with what he wanted. Even if she didn't like it.

Mark was quite pleased with himself, and yet, he felt empty. He had subjugated his sister and her best friend to his sexual will, but it was somehow... not right. He was a rapist, after all, not a slave master or pimp. After the initial attack was over, much of the thrill was gone.

Of course, Julie's twin sisters, Brandi and Brianna, still remained to be taken. And he would, soon. In the meantime, he had other needs. He still had two months left before his parents came home, and that was two full months he could spend having fun. Not just with his chosen few, but with any he might like.

And he would. He most surely would.

A week and a half after Julie's initial "induction," Mark was already tiring of her. Sure, she still didn't like what was happening - her resistance, her fear and pain were still very real, as was her humiliation - but now she was too easy. He needed something fresh, something he could have fun with.

Julie's biggest worry, he'd found, wasn't herself. It was her family, specifically her little sisters. She'd accepted that if she did what he wanted, he'd let her mother alone. The twins were fresh meat, however.

Mark wanted them badly. They were too young to understand what was happening but old enough to know that it was bad. Which made it twice as much fun. "Double your pleasure," he chuckled to himself every time he thought of them.

Yet he held back going after the twins. He wanted Julie to be a little more "with it" - because he wanted her to enjoy watching him rape her sisters. Really enjoy it, like Shannon had enjoyed seeing Julie raped. He was beginning to think that might never happen, until yesterday.

Julie had come over as usual; she knew better than to stay away, because he'd be particularly brutal if she did. But this time, she'd seemed less... apprehensive. She didn't exactly offer herself, but her resistance was considerably less, and she didn't cry very much afterwards. Mark had begun to wonder if she was finally getting it when she knocked him for a loop.

"Mark, could I... watch you do some other little girls?" she'd asked, right out of the blue.

Mark thought he was hearing things. "Huh?"

"I want to see you do some other little girls," Julie told him. "I want to watch."

"Do you? Then you can watch me do your sisters."

"I was thinking of some others," Julie said quickly. "Strange little girls. It'd be more exciting because they'd really be fresh, see? We wouldn't hardly know anything about them. I could go get some for you and bring them here. How does that sound?" She'd seemed almost eager to please. Mark considered it.

"Yeah, maybe," he told her.

There was no more discussion after that. He left Julie and Shannon to their own devices - sadly, they didn't get raped. In fact, they didn't even leave the house; they'd just sat around and watched TV, mostly kiddie porn tapes, until Mark had taken those away. He didn't want Shannon watching any more of those. He wanted to get some of his sister's innocent nature back so she'd be exciting again. And that was a start.

He didn't think it was working. It was the following morning already, and he was sitting at the table, Julie and Shannon on the other side. Shannon was eagerly going on about getting some other little girls to rape, or better yet, getting raped herself. Julie was nodding and agreeing with her.

"So what time to the twins usually get home?" Mark asked casually. "I'd like to have them... over sometime."

"Um, I don't know. Usually my mom picks them up," Julie told him. Her voice was shaking. "Um, but I know that there are a couple of girls they go to camp with you'd like Mark. They're young and really cute, and I know where to find them. Maybe, um, me and Shannon could go get them, huh?" She was smiling, a hysterical smile. Mark thought she might be cracking up.

"So what are they like?" Mark asked.

"Cute, Mark. One's blonde and one has light brown hair. I think their five and six. Their sisters. I could show you right now. What do you say?"

Mark glanced at his sister. Shannon was bouncing up and down in her chair, eager to do it, without actually saying so. "So where do they live?"

"About six blocks from here," Julie told him.

"Okay. You and Shannon go get them and lure them here, okay? Do whatever you have to, but make sure you keep it quiet. The less people that see you, the better. Now get moving."

Both girls jumped up and hurried for the door. Mark leaned back in his seat and grinned. Julie was playing with him. He could tell simply by looking at her eyes. Eager as her face was, her eyes told a different story. She was terrified of him going after the twins; that's why she'd suggested the other girls. Silly Julie, the little slut, she had the makings of another Shannon in her. She was so damned determined to protect her baby sisters she'd let some other girl suffer in their place. Too bad she made it so obvious.

Only it was Julie who was going to suffer. For lying to him and trying to make him believe she wanted to play by his rules. He wouldn't hurt her mother, though. No. He would hurt the twins instead.

Julie had lied when she said her mother picked the twins up. A desperate lie at best, because Mark saw the twins get dropped off every day around three. It was five to three now. A few more minutes and they'd be all his.

Brandi and Brianna Roberts had no idea of what their sister had endured the past week. They'd only noticed she'd become awfully jumpy and protective of them, but wouldn't say why.

It was doubtful they would have fully understood even if she had explained. Being only five, they knew little about rape - about as much as Julie when it came to body parts, but beyond that, good touch/bad touch was about it. They also knew it was wrong for a man or a boy to touch them in their private places in any way, and to just say no to make it stop. Innocence might have been bliss, but the twins were going to learn it was also very painful.

Both twins were incredibly gorgeous for their young age. Short - four feet tall - and slender, they were identical in every way - waist length dark red hair, very fine, with a slight wave to it. Freckled cheeks and pert noses made up the rest of their pretty faces, and both girls possessed the same green eyes as their sisters.

Both girls wore the camp uniform - red shorts with a white t-shirt and white tennis sneakers. Brandi, who always wanted to be just a little different, also wore white ankle socks. It was sort of a mini-rebellion; Brandi was the tougher of the two twins, less shy and more outgoing, more brash, to Brianna's quiet, mouse-like nature.

Suddenly Mark Harris called them from next door. He was standing on the porch, leaning over the railing. Both girls liked Mark and knew him well. "Brandi, Brianna, Julie wants you to come over here," Mark told them. Both girls shrugged and hurried over. Mark ushered them inside and shut the door.

"Julie dropped an earring down in the rec room. Could you go down and find it, Brandi? I need to borrow Brianna for a minute."

"Sure!" Brandi offered, and dashed down into the basement, where the rec room was. Brianna, left alone, smiled shyly at Mark. That smile faded a moment later when Mark produced a coil of rope from his back pocket.

"What are you going to do with that?" Brianna asked, her little eyes wide and fearful. Mark didn't answer. She was young, she was vulnerable, and she was all his.

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, clamping his hand over her mouth. He knew Brianna was no fighter, and she didn't fight him this time. She didn't even try to pull his hand away.

He forced the little girl into the living room and shoved her face down onto the couch. He told her if she screamed or made a sound, he'd hurt her very badly. Brianna started to cry. Mark slapped the back of her head, making her cry harder. Mark laughed. He was liking this already, and it was only one of them.

He used the rope to bind her wrists behind her, then slipped a gag into her mouth and tied it off behind her head. He flipped the little girl over and gratuitously fondled her bare legs, enjoying the feel of the baby soft skin.

"You're a little whore, Brianna. I'm going to hurt you for that. I'm going to hurt you so much you'll want to die. And I'm going to do it while your sisters are watching, and then I'm going to do them, too." He carried on the threats, terrifying her with each new sentence. Then he hauled her to her feet and forced her down the basement steps.

He could see Brandi on her hands and knees, searching the carpeting in the rec room for an earring that wasn't there. Her little ass wiggled at him, teasingly. She didn't seem to know they were there until he pushed Brianna into the room.

Instantly Brandi jumped up, her face flashing a smile first, then fear. Mark lunged for her but missed. Brandi bolted for the door and nearly made it. Mark, caught off balance, stumbled back and grabbed for her arm, catching her sleeve instead. It was enough for him to spin the girl, then he brought his fist, hard, into her cunt.

Brandi doubled up and crumpled to the carpet, sobbing. Mark got his balance again and hurried over, gagging the girl while she lay curled up, then hauling her hands away from her sore middle and tying them behind her back. Brandi, still in pain, didn't try to fight him as he bound her ankles and threw her onto the rec room couch, then turned to Brianna.

The little girl flinched at his approach, but gave him no trouble. He pushed her down into another chair and tied her ankles. He told her to keep quiet, then hurried out, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Two down, two to go, he thought to himself.

"Over there," Julie pointed.

Shannon looked to where Julie was pointing. There were two little girls playing on swings in a backyard. Both were very pretty, and looked young, about five or six, like Julie had said. She didn't know their names, however.

Mark had taught Shannon a lot about luring little girls. The first trick was to make sure there were no adults around who might stop them. If there were, she was to leave. After that, all she had to do was figure out how to lure them.

The two of them made their way over to the white picket fence that surrounded the back yard. Instantly, Shannon knew her brother would love the blonde. She was the younger looking of the two, her hair long, down past her waist at least, and pulled back in an elaborate, braided pony tail. She wore a dark pink polo shirt and lighter pink track shorts, with white sneakers. Her skin was well tanned and her eyes were a vibrant blue. Shannon got wet just thinking about watching her brother do the girl.

The other girl was not as pretty. Her hair was cut short, just above her shoulders, with bangs in front. She was tanned and slim, but kind of tall, with freckled cheeks and glasses. She wore a pink t-shirt and denim cutoffs and white sneakers.

Shannon approached the fence and called out to them. "Hi!"

Both girls waved and came running over. The blonde recognized Julie. "Hi! Aren't you Brianna Roberts' sister?"

Julie nodded. "I'm Julie. What's your name?"

"Tiffany," the girl said.

"I'm Jolene. Where's Brandi and Brianna?"

"At my house," Shannon offered. "They wanted us to come ask if you would come over and play."

Tiffany clapped her hands excitedly. "Yeah!"

Jolene slapped her sister's shoulder. "I don't know. Our mom isn't home..."

"You can call her from my house," Shannon offered, her eyes drifting to the little blonde. She wanted badly to see Mark rape this little girl. Maybe he'd even kill her.

"Please, Jolene?" Tiffany pleaded.

"All right," Jolene agreed.

On the walk back, Shannon learned a lot about the sisters. Jolene was eight but looked younger; Tiffany was six. Shannon also discovered she didn't like Jolene. The girl was very unpleasant, almost nasty, and didn't smile much. She'd suggest to Mark that they kill her.

Julie was quiet the entire way home. She didn't smile or even look at the girls, and Shannon was starting to believe Julie really wasn't having fun, like she'd told Mark. Julie was a rotten liar, Shannon knew, and had always been. She thought Julie might be lying again, and that made her mad. She didn't know just why it did, but it did. She wanted Julie to have fun and share in this. But she didn't seem to want to. So Shannon decided to tell Mark, and maybe he'd hurt Julie enough so that she'd learn.

Shannon was becoming quite the sado-masochist without even realizing it.

They took the back way home, and as they passed Julie's, Shannon saw her friend glance toward her house. She was probably looking for the twins, and secretly, Shannon hoped somebody had snatched them. Shannon used to like the twins, but lately she saw them as just dirty little whores, playtoys like herself. She longed for the day when Mark would pop their young cherries right in front of her.

At the back door of the house, Shannon ushered the two girls in. Mark was sitting at the kitchen table, a friendly smile on his face. He introduced himself and made a few minutes of small talk with the girls, then told Julie to pour them some lemonade.

"Where's Brandi and Brianna?" Tiffany asked.

"Upstairs," Julie cut in quickly. Shannon thought she looked awfully nervous. She didn't have long to think before Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her into the living room.

"Listen, sis. Julie's lying to us. I don't think she knows how to properly play the game, if you know what I mean." He grinned, running a finger across Shannon's crotch. Shannon moaned with pleasure and nodded, then told him about what she'd seen on the way home.

"Oh, is that so? Well I guess that proves it then. Tell you what. I've got a special surprise for her, and you get to help. First we've got to do these two. Then we'll take care of Julie."

"You going to kill her, Mark?"

"Nah, she's too cute and useful to waste. Let's just say we'll make her think twice about lying again." He gave his sister a quick kiss and told her to go get Jolene and bring her upstairs.

Mark waited in his room for the girls. His first impression of Jolene was much the same as Shannon's: he didn't like her. She wasn't cute or innocent or anything. But she was a fuck, and that was what mattered, right?

Mark had prepared his bed just for these occasions. The top covers were stripped off, and under the bottom sheet was a rubber sheet, designed to keep blood out of the mattress - just in case anyone should ever choose to search. Every bed in the house was so equipped, in truth, just to be safe.

Shannon led the girl in. Jolene glanced around, back to Shannon, then at Mark. "So what's this shit?" she asked.

Mark's jaw dropped. The kid had a mouth, too! "Watch your language," he snapped.

"Fuck you. You wanna fuck me, right? Take on a little girl? Okay, let's go." She started taking her clothes off.

Mark shook his head. "No. Don't take them off. Get over here."

The girl sashayed over, acting very cocky. "You've done this before?" Mark asked.

"Listen, asshole, I've been fucking guys since I was four. I've done it all. Ass, mouth, pussy, I've suck and fucked and licked ass, so there's nothing I haven't done."

Shit! Mark thought. Just his luck, he'd get a whore who knew the game already. Which meant she'd want it, and he couldn't even think of getting it up. "What about your sister?"

"She's my cousin, not my sister," Jolene snapped. "Primo virgin, far as I know. So, you wanna fuck or not? I told you, I've done it all."

"Ever been tortured and murdered?" Mark asked.

The girl's eyes grew wide. Mark grabbed her by throat and jammed her jaw shut, then slapped her hard across the face, breaking her glasses. She was stunned for a moment, then kicked him. Mark saw red.

He drew back his fist and punched her in the face, smashing her nose and knocking two teeth out. Blood spurted out of her smashed lip and broken nose, nearly covering her face. Mark was not done yet, however.

He flung the girl onto the bed and grabbed her elbows, twisting her arms up behind her back until he heard her shoulders pop out of their sockets. The girl screamed, but it was lost in the mattress. He heard the door slam and realized Shannon had run out. Overcome by rage, he tore the girl's clothes off and began beating on her until everything became a blur.

After what felt like hours, the rage passed. Mark stood back, calmly surveying the damage. The girl was a mass of bruises and blood. Blood had soaked the sheets under her, and when Mark felt for a pulse, there was none. He'd beaten her to death.

He sagged back against the wall and sat down. He didn't feel satisfied, just disgusted. She was a lousy tramp, worse than any little whore-to-be. She deserved what she got. But now he had to clean up the mess.

Rising to his feet again, he pulled the sheet up around her and tied it as best he could. The rubber mattress beneath was soaked with blood; the porous surface had prevented it from running, at least. He flipped that over, then secured it with duct tape he kept handy. Tonight, he'd dispose of her.

For now, he wanted to get to Tiffany. And then... and then, the twins.

Julie nervously played a patticake game with little Tiffany, who sat giggling and singing in the kitchen chair, totally unaware of what was going to happen to her. Julie felt sorry for the little girl, and sick with the idea that she'd brought her here in the first place. But it was either that, or let Mark get the twins. And Julie's greatest hope was that by helping Mark out, she'd turn his attention away from the twins. Letting him use her just wouldn't do it; she knew Mark could only get off on fresh, innocent girls, so it came to this. Luring girls like Tiffany to him. Bait for the trap.

A few times she'd looked out the window, hoping to see her sisters and make sure they were all right, but had seen nothing. She couldn't, of course, know that they were literally under her feet.

Shannon was standing in the kitchen doorway, where she'd been for about the last ten minutes or so, one hand shoved down her shorts as she fingered herself. Julie had tried to look interested, occasionally stroking herself as well, but was no longer sure she was fooling Shannon. Her friend had a weird gleam in her eye, a cold, mischievous look Julie didn't like.

"Hey, Tiffany, why don't you watch some TV? I don't know what those two could be doing up there," Shannon suggested.

Tiffany turned around with a smile. "Okay. Is Jolene still up there?"

Shannon grinned. "Yeah. She's having a lot of fun." She ushered the little girl into the living room, then shut the kitchen door. She walked over to Julie, grinning coldly. "She's going to be a lot of fun."

"Yeah," Julie agreed, forcing herself to sound convincing. "I can't wait to see Mark pop her cherry."

"Bet you can't," Shannon giggled. There was something in her tone that made Julie very uneasy. "Bet she'll bleed a lot. Like you did."

Julie suppressed a shudder at the memory. "Yeah. But then I realized it was so much fun, and I think she will, too."

"Sure," Shannon agreed. "Hey, maybe if you're lucky, Mark will leave the twins alone, huh? Or maybe he'll fuck them anyway."

Julie felt her stomach turn. "Yeah. I'd like to see that."

"Sure you would," Shannon laughed. "Especially Brianna."

Julie cringed. She loved Brianna a little more than Brandi, largely because Brianna was so sweet and helpful. She certainly didn't want to watch her... get it.

Julie decided to change the subject. "I wonder if we can get raped soon. By strangers. I'd really like to feel a strange, hard cock in me," she said, actually getting turned on by the idea. That made her shudder. Was she losing it, like Shannon had?

"Yeah, me too," Shannon agreed. "And I'd like to watch them do you, Julie. You... REALLY... deserve it."

Mark came down the stairs and saw little Tiffany sitting on the couch, watching TV - all vulnerable and ready. She looked like a screamer, so Mark didn't plan to scare her too much until she was tied up.

"Tiffany? Come on up," he called.

The little girl jumped up and raced up to him. He took her hand and led her into his parents bedroom - a place full of fond memories for him. Soon to have more.

He told the little girl to sit on the bed, then locked the door behind him. When he turned around, Tiffany was standing there, her eyes wide.

"Why did you lock the door?"

"So you can't get out," Mark told her, producing ropes and a gag from his back pocket.

"Please don't hurt me, mister. I'm just a little girl. Please, just let me go. I won't tell."

"Can't do that. Anybody done this to you before, Tiffany?"

"No. But Mommy told me - "

"Mommy is a whore and liar like you, Tiffany. Now I'm going to tie your hands. Turn around."

"No, please, mister - "

Mark grabbed her wrist and spun her around. The little girl didn't resist, nor did she scream or cry as he tied her hands. "So what did Mommy say?" he asked.

"S-She s-said that s-sometimes m-men like to get little g-girls alone and h-hurt them," she whimpered. Her words ended and she started to sob. Mark pulled the gag between her teeth and knotted it under her pony tail, then sat her down and tied her ankles. He fondled her bare legs and she jumped when he touched her between the legs, crying harder. Mark unlocked the door and yelled for the other girls to come up and see.

Shannon arrived first, grinning from ear to ear. Julie was right behind her, also grinning. A false grin at best, Mark saw, because her eyes betrayed her discomfort.

Mark turned back to the little girl and slowly removed his clothes. He was going to enjoy this. He'd been cheated out of Jolene, the whore, so little Tiffany would have to take the full brunt of his lustful urges.

Tiffany's eyes got very wide when she saw his cock bouncing up and down, pointing at her like an accusing finger. "Boy, is she scared!" Shannon laughed. "What do you think, Julie? What should Mark do first?"

"Put it in her mouth," Julie insisted hoarsely.

Not a bad idea, Mark decided. But not right away. Tiffany was scared, but not scared enough. Her tears weren't enough to please him. He wanted to see her squirm, feel her struggle.

So he jumped her. Literally. He took a flying leap and knocked her back, pinning her with his body. He rammed his lips against her slender white throat, kissing and suckling the delicate flesh. Stunned at first, little Tiffany quickly responded, squirming and bucking under him in a desperate, but futile, attempt to get him off of her.

Mark's hands slid up and down her slender, baby soft thighs, kneading the tender flesh with his fingertips. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pink track shorts and pulled them down to her knees while his lips roamed over her tear stained cheeks and shaking, gagged mouth.

He lifted himself slightly to look at her panties. They were cute little girl ones, white with little daisies printed on them. He slid his hand under the waistband and fingered the little girl, making her groan and squirm with pain. He withdrew his fingers and shoved the panties down, eager to get into her hot little snatch.

Mark grinned and spread the little girl's labia lips. Tiffany squirmed a bit. Mark put his cock head against the inner folds. She was tight, dry. She'd be a bleeder for sure. He pushed a little harder until his cock was against her tiny maidenhead. Tiffany was moaning and twisting around now. "Quit squirming!" he snapped at her. She stopped. Mark pushed hard against her maidenhead. He felt it tear. Little Tiffany let out a painful moan and a grunt and her stomach flexed. Then she sobbed real loud and began to shake. Mark knew it must have hurt.

He pushed as far as he could but she was real tight, so he pulled out and pushed in harder. Little Tiffany was really sobbing and he was getting turned on. He began to pump her. Each time he got a little further until his balls were banging off her ass. She only bled a trickle. She was twitching and groaning the way virgins do and Mark couldn't stop himself, he came. He dumped his whole load inside her and pulled out.

Mark grinned at the girls. He felt like going again. Tiffany was sobbing and hiccuping, but she wasn't worn out yet. He yanked down her gag and pulled her into a sitting position, holding his cock out in front of her mouth.

"You suck this, got it? You bite and I'll knock your teeth down your throat!" he shouted, shoving most of his cock into the girl's mouth. He wanted a good blowjob so he didn't push it all the way in. Little Tiffany didn't bite him. She sucked, but it was pathetic. "Pretend it's a fuckin' lollipop, you little cunt!"

Tiffany began to suck harder. It felt good. Mark grabbed her head and jerked it back and forth, bringing himself to a cum. The girl's mouth was a hot, wet little oven that just drank down his cum. He got off and pushed her back, shoving the gag into her mouth.

Mark stepped back, feeling light headed with excitement. Excellent! She's been one damn good fuck and suck. He turned to the girls, pulling his pants on. "I think we'll keep her for a while," Mark told them. "Come on, I need a beer. Let's let her be for a while." He ushered the two girls out and shut the door behind him, shutting out Tiffany's pitiful whimpers.

Mark collapsed into a kitchen chair, exhausted but satisfied. Julie hurried to bring him a beer from the fridge. "Um, Mark, can I talk to you?"

"Sure, cunt. About what?"

"Um, I want to, um, make a deal. I'll help you get all the little girls you want... if you'll leave the twins alone."

Mark almost choked. "What?"

"I, um, I'll help you get all the little girls you want."

"I heard you, slut. You'll help me if I leave the twins alone."

Julie nodded. "Yeah. And I'll even help you rape them and... get rid of them, if you want. Just please don't touch the twins. Please!"

Mark grinned. He liked when little girls pleaded with him. It turned him on - a lot. "You know, fucktoy, you might have a deal there. I mean, what are the twins? I use 'em once and that's it, right? All done, no more fun. Just like you." He took a deep swallow of beer. "Probably would be a lot easier for me, too, huh? I don't know, though."

"Please, Mark. Those two were only the start. Little girls trust me. I know how the younger ones can be because of the twins. If you'll just - "

"All right, you got a deal," Mark told her. "But you better keep up your end, got that? No whining or complaining. I want total... full... cooperation."

"I promise," Julie stammered, nodding enthusiastically.

"You better, snatchlips," he snapped. "Or they get it. Now get lost. I'm sick of looking at you."

Julie took off like a streak. Mark leaned back in the chair, laughing so hard he couldn't drink his beer. A deal! What a load of crap! Stupid Julie. She'd figure it out pretty soon. That little whores like her didn't make deals with men like him. There were no deals to be made. The twins were just whores, and whores were meant to be used. Plain and simple.

Boy, did Julie have a surprise coming!

Shortly after Julie left, Shannon came downstairs to find her brother in the kitchen, sipping at beer with a smile on his face. "Julie go home?" Shannon asked.

"Yeah. But she'll be back soon."

Shannon went to get herself a soda. "So what about little Miss Slut upstairs? What are you going to do with her?"

"I want you to go play with her," Mark said. Shannon grinned, but Mark held up his hand. "Not like that. Like little girls play. I want you to be friends with her."

What was he getting at? First, he'd stopped her from watching his tapes. Now, he wanted her to go play with Tiffany. It didn't make sense. "Why?"

Mark gave her a hard look. "You aren't any fun anymore, Shannon. You're too... mean. Rapists don't like mean little girls. They like sweet ones."

"So, what will they know? I can be sweet."

"It's not the same," Mark sighed. "Why do you think I don't do you anymore? Because I know it's all an act. You just aren't scared anymore. Not even of dying."

Shannon nodded. That was true. This... thing had consumed all of her. It was full time, more than a fantasy. It had become a way of life. She wasn't sure she liked that.

"You can't change that," she told him.

"Maybe I can. But I'll work on that later. I want you to go up and make friends with Tiffany. When Julie get's back, tie Tiffany up again. Then get down here. If you want to be mean, you're going to have a few more chances. But after that..." He trailed off and grinned. "Go on, get lost."

Shannon left, mystified by Mark's sudden change of behavior. She knew he was right, but she didn't think she could change. You can't undo the past.

She was nice to Tiffany, as nice as she could be. She untied the girl and bathed her, then braided her hair up again and dressed her, being friendly the whole time. Tiffany just wanted to go home.

Eventually Shannon got her into a game of dolls, and that calmed the little girl down. She heard Mark take Jolene's body out of his room and down the stairs, and did her best to keep Tiffany occupied while he was doing it.

It was amazing the way kids bounced back. One minute Tiffany was sobbing over the loss of her virginity (or more accurately, the hideous shock, fear and pain of the attack) and the next, she was smiling and enjoying dolls. Watching her, playing with her, Shannon felt a pang of longing for her lost innocence. She wanted to be like Tiffany again, but knew that could never be.

Mark drove up to the lake and weighted down Jolene's body with rocks, then threw it in. There were a lot of bodies in that lake. Pretty soon, Tiffany would probably be joining them as well.

He was still considering other possible uses for the girl. He wanted to keep her at least a few days, experiment with her. Nothing sick or vicious, but rather, something like he'd started out with on Shannon. He'd do nice things for her after each rape - sort of reward her. That hadn't worked with Shannon, but it might work with Tiffany. It was just an experiment, though; he'd have to get rid of her eventually.

On the way back home, he made a detour toward the "bad" part of town, to a small, ramshackle house that looked like it was ready to fall over. Nobody was there, but he'd made an appointment to meet somebody last night. He pulled the car onto the weed choked lawn and locked it, then quickly made his way inside, ignored by the few homeless people and less seedy types that frequented the streets and back alleys.

Inside stunk of feces and vomit and the coppery stench of blood. It was in here that Mark had made his first snuff film. It was still used for that, sometimes, but he hadn't been here in a while.

"I'm here," he announced.

A tall, white haired man dressed in a business suit stepped out of one of the empty rooms. There was a bulge under his jacket that spoke of a very large gun. His calm blue eyes assayed Mark, then he nodded. "Right on time," he said.

Mark let out a deep breath. The guy's name was Max - just Max. Nobody seemed to know much about him. He never joined them for rapes or helped kidnap kids. Mostly, he trafficked in special drugs and devices and helped to get the snuff films distributed. Nothing else.

Max actually scared Mark. The guy was an enigma - cool and to the point, smart as a whip and quick as one, too. He could pick out a lie in a minute and let you know about it. He was always tense, always ready, and didn't like people who beat around the bush. He reminded Mark of a time bomb.

"I'm here about that behavior stuff you told me about," Mark stated. "What is it, a drug?"

Max leaned back against the wall, his face expressionless. "It's a drug and more, Mark. It's actually an overlapping three part process involving drugs, hypnosis and subliminal messages carried on audio tape. The drug is the simplest part. It inhibits certain... unnatural urges. In the shortest terms, it makes one want to be submissive. By itself, it's only use would be as a sort of sedative, similar to sodium pentathol. But when combined with the subliminal messages and the hypnosis, it can work wonders."

"So how much?"

Max sneered, then his face went blank again. "Money. Money and sex. With little girls. Is that all you think of, Mark?" He shook his head. "There's more to it than "how much." I have to establish the program, detail it for each victim personally. That takes time. When that's done, we'll discuss cost." He sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Now, who do you want this for?"

"My sister," Mark told him. "I want her to get her innocence back. But I don't want her to lose the urge to get raped. I just don't want her to like it as much as she does now."

"Innocence stolen is innocence lost, Mark," Max explained softly. "But you can restore something of her personality. You said she's becoming a real bitch, like someone else you know."

"Yes," Mark agreed. "So can this do it?"

"I believe so. It'll take a few days, maybe a week. I'll call you when it's ready. The cost will be minimal - let's say ten thousand to start."

Mark nodded. He could get the money easily. His family was loaded. They just didn't flaunt it. "Okay. You've got a deal."

"I'm pleased, Mark, very pleased. Now I suggest you get home to little Tiffany and the Roberts twins."

Mark started. "How did you know that?"

"I know many things, Mark." He grinned, a rictus grin not unlike that of Death itself. "Many things." The grin faded as quickly as it came, and he stepped out of the room, leaving Mark feeling vaguely chilled.

Shannon heard the front door open and close. She heard footsteps on the stairs, too light to be Mark's. So it had to be Julie, and Mark wasn't home yet.

She turned to Tiffany. She'd been having fun, playing with the girl, and suddenly felt guilty about both her earlier thoughts and the knowledge that now she was supposed to tie her up. The idea was still strongly appealing, but she just didn't want to. She'd have to find some other way.

Julie came in without knocking. Tiffany looked up and smiled. "Hi Julie," she said brightly, then turned back to the dolls.

Shannon saw her friend watching them, mouth agape. Quickly she got up and pushed Julie out, shutting the door. "Mark went out and I untied her. She's really a good kid. I like her."

"You like to see Mark rape her," Julie said bitterly.

Shannon shook her head. "No... well, yes, but... I don't know. I guess I wish I was like her again."

"Me too," Julie sighed.

"And I don't want to tie her up. Maybe if I can keep her quiet - "

"Have you seen the twins?" Julie asked. "They aren't at the house and I'm worried... that Mark."

"I haven't seen them," Shannon admitted. "And Mark didn't say anything."

"He promised he wouldn't touch them...," Julie said thoughtfully.

Shannon shrugged. She knew nothing, but had a pretty good idea that Mark had taken them. Only he hadn't told her as much. "I don't know."

The front door slammed a moment later Mark came up. He grinned at them. "Julie! Back so soon?"

"I can't find the twins," she said apprehensively. "I don't want Mom worrying and - "

"Don't worry. I saw them earlier, heading toward the playground or something with a couple of other girls. And no, I didn't take them."

Julie looked visibly relieved. "Now go downstairs and watch TV or something. Both of you," Mark told them. Julie started down, but Shannon stayed behind. As soon as Julie was out of sight, she grabbed Mark's arm.

"Please Mark, don't tie Tiffany up again. She's been really good. Please, I mean it. I'm not acting. I really like her."

Mark shook his head. "She's got to be tied up. I can't take chances. I'm not going to do her right off, if that's what your worried about. Now go down and stay with Julie. It's almost time for her punishment."

"All right," Shannon agreed quietly.

The second Tiffany saw Mark, she let out a scream and ran for a corner, curling up into a ball. Mark felt the urge to rape the girl again but held back. He wanted to save it for the twins. "Get up," he demanded. Tiffany didn't move. "Get up or I'll really hurt you!"

Sobbing and shaking, the little girl got up. Mark grabbed her wrist and slapped her ass. "That's for screaming," he told her, then flung her face down onto the bed and tied her hands with rope he kept handy. He gagged her and hauled her to her feet, shaking her. "Now listen to me, Tiffany. I won't hurt you. Not right away. But you'd better learn to be good and do what I say or you'll never go home. You got that?"

The little girl nodded. "Good. Now I want you to stay put up here." He pushed her back onto the bed and tied her ankles. "If you're a good girl and don't make a fuss, I'll untie you later and let you play with Shannon. Okay?"

Tiffany nodded again, quieting a little. Mark gave her a quick kiss on the cheek - part of his "reward" plan - and left. Now, it was time to teach Julie a lesson.

Julie sat on the couch and watched the kitchen door nervously. Mark and Shannon were in there, making a lot of noise, and she couldn't go see - Mark had tied her wrists and ankles, obviously planning to have her again. He'd gagged her, too, but had left it hanging around her neck instead of in her mouth.

After about ten minutes they returned, Shannon carrying a large shopping bag. Mark put Julie's gag back in and lowered her to the floor, where Julie expected he'd start. But he didn't. Instead, Shannon knelt next to her, grinning wickedly.

Mark went back into the kitchen. Shannon leaned closer. "You've been bad, Julie. You lied and you tried to fool us. Now we're going to punish you for it. Really punish you." She reached into the bag and withdrew a carving knife, which she laid down next to Julie. Julie began to whimper, he heart pounding wildly in her chest. What were they going to do to her?

"It's going to be a very painful punishment, Julie," Shannon continued, withdrawing more items. A wooden spoon, a wine bottle, a wire whisk, part of a broom handle, a browning bulb, an eggbeater, and a thick, dark blue candle, along with a carrot, a cucumber and a dry, knobby eggplant gourd, and two mousetraps. "Very painful. Especially when I use this!" She held up the knife. "You'll bleed like a pig!"

Julie screamed and turned her head away. "Oh, don't be such a baby, Julie. I'm not going to put this in you... or will I? You've been so bad, Julie."

"Hey, Julie, look!" Mark called.

Julie turned her eyes toward the kitchen. She felt her heart drop. It couldn't be. But it was.

Mark stood there with the twins, grasping them both by the neck. Brandi was squirming, but Brianna stood still, her pretty young face so pale the freckles on her cheeks stood out.

Mark shoved Brandi into a chair and started tying her ankles. Julie heard Shannon giggle, and felt the flat, cold steel blade of the carving knife slide up her thigh, under the hem of the skin-tight, very short white shorts she wore. Still giggling, Shannon cut them up the side, and the panties as well, pushing them away. With her slit so exposed, Julie tensed as Shannon lowered the tip of the knife to the out folds, grinning.

"Should I, Julie? Should I shove it in and make you bleed?" Julie shook her head furiously. "I guess your right," Shannon giggled. "I'll use this instead!" She held up the wire whisk, then plunged it against Julie's slit, twisting and forcing it in, Julie writhing in untold agony the entire time. At the same time she ripped Julie's blouse open and started pinching her sensitive nipples.

"Hold on," Mark yelled. "Take out her gag. And don't scream too loud, Julie, or your sisters will get it!" He stepped over her, leading Brianna. For a moment, Julie forgot anything but her sister. Shannon had removed her own gag, and Mark was now removing Brianna's. The little girl stood quietly, watching while Mark undid his pants.

"Please, Mark, no!" Julie screamed.

"Gag her, Shannon!" Mark shouted, turning his attention back to Brianna. "Now open up, Brianna, and take it in your mouth."

"I don't want to," Brianna sobbed.

"Well, I WANT you to!" Mark screamed, ramming his cock as far into her mouth as he could. Brianna choked as it hit the back of her throat and struggled to break away. "Don't bite me or Julie's dead!" Mark warned, just as he felt the girl's teeth closing down on his rod. He yanked it back out, Brianna choking and sobbing and gasping for air.

"Now you do what I want, or next time I'll keep it in there!" he snapped. "Now take it in your fucking mouth!"

Sobbing, Brianna leaned forward and took as much as she could get into her mouth. "Now suck on it!" Mark demanded. Nervously, the little girl's lips began to work on him.

Across the room, Julie screamed. Mark looked over and saw that Shannon had buried a wire whisk into the girl's cunt, so far that the handle was no long visible. She twisted it and worked it around, laughing at Julie's pain. Then, with a grin, she picked up a mousetrap and snapped it closed over Julie's nipple, giggling hysterically.

Mark's attention returned to Brianna. Her tear filled eyes were pleading, and just the sight of that, and the sight of his cock plunged into her young mouth, made him cum.

Brianna gagged right away, but Mark was relentless. He grabbed her head and told her to swallow. She kept choking. She was turning blue by the time he let go. She stumbled back, choking and sobbing and making faces. "Why are you doing this?" she begged.

"Because of Julie," Mark said, "she WANTED us to. She likes it!" He saw Brianna's eyes go to Julie - sad, pain filled eyes. If Julie noticed, it was hard to say. She was in too much pain herself, being worked at with that wire whisk, which Shannon was only now trying to remove from her cunt - with painful results.

Mark turned Brianna's gaze back to him and shoved her gag back into her mouth. He pushed the little girl to the floor, banging her head off the carpet, and yanked her shorts down. She wore cute, plain white cotton panties. Eagerly Mark tore them away and reared up, ready to ram into her. This, he knew, was going to be the absolute best yet.

The sunset turned the sea into a golden-red color as it settled down over the horizon, bathing the beach in twilight shadow. June Harris stared at it in a half-daze, her mind and body too exhausted to even enjoy the beauty of it.

Fourteen of them. She'd counted. Fourteen men had had their way with her over the past nine hours. Her crotch burned from the thrusts of their assaults and her mouth felt dry from having sucked so many huge cocks. Even her wrists and ankles hurt from the ropes that had been used to restrain her, and now had been removed.

She had been kidnapped early this morning as she left the cottage, bound, gagged and thrown into a truck, where the rape had begun almost immediately. It had continued on all day, almost without respite. Then she'd been dumped here on the beach, nude, her shorts and top torn away long ago and dumped along the roadside. June closed her eyes and felt hot tears spring into them.

She was so tired... but she felt so good. She liked to be raped, to be used. But even she had her limits and today those limits had been reached and exceeded. For the first time today she felt real fear, fear that someone else would come along and want to use her, and she didn't think she could take anymore of that.

She could have wound up dead. The only thing that prevented that - and there was no guarantee - was the tiny gold medal hanging around her neck. It said, "Rape me," in short, "but don't kill me." It marked her as a willing target for those who wanted to pursue their fantasies - other guests here at the resort, like herself. Most of the women wore them, and a few of the children, those whose owners or parents wanted them kept alive. Some wore silver medals, which said, "Hands off." But all of that, gold or silver, depended on who got you. Staff and guest played by the rules, usually. Nobody else had to. She wasn't sure if the guys who took her today had been staff or guests, but she was still alive, at least.

June had no desire to die. She simply wanted to be used, though right now, she didn't. Right now she wanted to go back to the cottage, take a shower, and get into bed. Maybe cry on her husband's shoulder. Brad was good for that, if little else. He couldn't satisfy her sexually; he was too gentle, too kind and nice. Sometimes she thought he hated her, secretly. In fact, she was pretty sure of that. But he always stuck by her.

Somehow, she found the strength to stand. She wavered for a few minutes, dizzy, then got her balance and took to brushing the sand off of her skin. Aside from the necklace, her attackers had left her sneakers, but nothing else. She must have been quite a sight.

Actually, she was quite beautiful. She was a small woman, five feet two inches, very slender, with small, round breasts and delicate pink nipples, now swollen and red from the assault. Her hair was black and wavy, falling in thick waves to the middle of her back, though it was now wild and tangled with sweat and sand. Her eyes were the violet blue of her daughters and her face was a perfect match in every way.

June thought a lot about her daughter lately, pleased that she should now be enjoying and experiencing what her mother had always loved. Mark's daily reports were encouraging in that degree.

Mark... June felt an insistent wetness in her middle that she wished would go away. But it was hard, especially when she thought of Mark. Mark was more than a son to her. He was her lover - her rapist. The best she'd ever had. And she'd made him herself.

June was fifteen when she had Mark. Prior to that, she'd gone through an abusive hell at the hands of her father and older brother, being sexually abused at almost every turn. Through them, June had learned how foul she was, what a whore and slut she was, and had grown to believe it as gospel, set in stone. When she'd met Brad and run off with him, she'd already been pregant with Mark - he was either her father's or brother's child, she didn't know.

Brad, being the kind, gentle soul he was, had encouraged her to keep the baby. Brad came from money and his marrying her (Brad was nineteen at the time) put a strain on the family; by having her bear a son, he was able to patch that strain, even if it wasn't his. And fortunately, Mark had come out okay. He just wouldn't stay that way.

Brad knew what she had gone through and at first, was understanding about it. He didn't rape her, as she wanted - she could not enjoy sex anymore unless it was forced - and she was forced to fake her orgasms and claim her undying love for him the whole time during their early marriage. She didn't love Brad. Her father and brother had stripped the ability to love a man from her. She needed him, however. She needed the money his family had and the life of freedom, freedom to do things on her own, that he offered.

Unfortuantely, shortly after Mark's birth, Brad had become... dissatisfied with her. Her need for forced sex was not something he could do; she began sneaking out whenever she could, seeking to be raped whenever possible, and it didn't take long for Brad to find out. Within a year, he was already talking divorce. He didn't need her bringing scandal to his family, he told her.

June was in a quandry. She had no doubt Brad would support her after the divorce - he was still too kind of a man not to. But June had grown used to having money. She'd also - odd as it sounded - grown used to having a husband. Despite his dissatisfaction, June had some control over him. He was always trying to make her happy, to please her, within his own narrowly defined margin of reason. She didn't want to lose him. She might not have loved him, but it was hard to imagine life without him. And then Brad gave her what he needed.

At first, June didn't know. Brad was twenty at the time and attending college. One night he'd gone to a party and come home, drunk and stoned. For the next few days afterward, he'd been unusually quiet, unwilling to talk about that night. Then a package had arrived for him. He wasn't home, so June had opened it. Inside was a newspaper article and a videotape. The article was about the search for the individuals who had gang raped and murdered a fifteen-year old girl. There was a picture of her there, too. June didn't understand until she saw the tape.

It showed the girl, tied down spread-eagle to a pool table, while dozens of college age boys raped her. One of them was Brad. He seemed completey out of it, as if he didn't know just what he was doing, but he was doing it. It was enough to get him on.

June made two copies of the tape, putting one in a safety deposit box under her own name and hiding the other with a "confidant" she knew. Then she'd confronted Brad with the evidence. Brad, horrified by this - not only the scandal, but also the fact that he was an accessory to the rape and murder of the girl - had quickly agreed to any terms she wanted. They were simple. No divorce, and he was to let her live her life as she wanted, covering up for her when he had to. And to this day, he had.

June stopped to look around. The beach was empty; it was nearly dark now and the lights in the cottages around the resort - a private one, for people like her, or her son - were burning, shouts and screams and laughter echoing out through open windows and doors. She heard a gunshot and knew that some kid had just been snuffed. Such noises and goings on were normal here.

She continued to trudge on, her thoughts returning again to her past. For the next seven years, she'd lived out her fantasies, albeit not daily, and had enjoyed Brad's attention. It was a loveless marriage, but Brad still cared about her, regardless. She still let him make love to her, even if she got nothing from it. That was how Shannon came about. She wound up with her father's hair and personality and the rest was her mother. Only from Mark's latest reports, it would seem, she'd also gotten her mother's personality. As June watched her son grew, she became acutely aware of one fact - he was not her husband's child, but possibly her brothers or father's. A part of her, deeply buried, grew to resent her son because of that. It grew so bad, that when Mark turned eight, she began to rape him. They weren't normal rapes, either. Not in the sense that she would molest him, or make him touch her. No. She would attack him with the brutality a man would attack her, binding the boy, forcing him to bring her to orgasm, bringing him to orgasm as well, humiliating and degrading him at every opportunity. In raping Mark, that deeply buried part of her was getting back at her father and brother, without her ever realizing it. At least, not until she'd read something about that. Not that it mattered, anyway.

For the next five years, she had raped Mark, threatening to expose him to his friends if he told anyone. Brad was aware of what was going on, but powerless to stop it. She often made him watch or assist, but never participate. Mark was hers and nobody else's.

June stopped again, just a few feet from her cottage. She could see two figures up ahead - a man and a young girl. The man was Brad; she could tell even from here. Tall, with wavy blonde hair and dark blue eyes, well built, he wore shorts and sneakers and a dark blue golf shirt. The girl was about twelve, Mexican, and very beautiful. Her skin was bronzed and flawless, that June could see, with dark eyes and a waist length mane of dark black hair. She wore a red short sleeve blouse and short white shorts with white sneakers. Her hands appeared to be bound behind her, and a gag hung around her neck, but she was smiling, speaking in perfect English to Brad. June had a pretty good idea of what was happening here. Brad had probably bought her from somebody. Not to have sex with, but to prevent it. Not that Brad didn't have sex with little girls, mind you. For the past five years he'd been doing it quite regularly. June thought he might even enjoy it. But he was always slow and gentle, and never initiated it. He practically had to be forced to do it, usually by her or Mark.

She watched Brad give the girl a hug, then lead her into the cottage. June would make him fuck her. It wasn't hard. All she had to do was threaten him with that tape. She had enough influence now with her in-laws to take control of Brad's finances if she had to - not that she wanted to, of course - so she knew he'd do it. Or maybe she'd have him bring her back to the States and let Mark use her. Mark had earned it.

June found herself wondering what Mark was doing tonight. Raping Shannon or Julie, or maybe some other girl? She'd love to know.

She started to remember the first time Mark had raped her. He'd been only thirteen at the time, and had nearly killed her. She still didn't know why. All she knew, was it wasn't the only time he would do it.

June had been working part time as a secretary - just something to do - and had come home from work to find Mark waiting for her. Back then, Mark had been as tall as she was, and now was even taller; so he'd had little trouble slipping up behind her and putting his hand over her mouth, holding a knife to her throat. She could still remember that moment as clear as day: "Now, cunt, I've fucking had enough of you! I'm sick of you putting me down... mother! Now it's my turn!" And then he'd forced her into the kitchen and tied her to the table. Not long after, Shannon had come in. Suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth. She felt the blade of a knife press against her throat, sharp against her skin. For a moment, lost in her memories, she thought it was Mark. Then reality hit and she realized it wasn't.

"Very nice of you," a voice breathed in her ear, "coming out all ready for me like this. Now we're going down the beach and have some fun, you and me. Only thing is, you won't be coming back." She felt the knife slide under the necklace and snap the blade. June whimpered with real fear. Not only was she to be raped - which for the first time in a long time, she didn't want - but she was also going to die.

Brad Harris gently undid the ropes that held the young girl's wrists, and took one of her hands, massaging the sore flesh. "Better?"

The girl nodded. Her name was Lupe. She was twelve and very sweet, though not totally innocent. Still a virgin, she understood sex to a great degree, having performed oral sex on men since she was only six. Brad had bought her out of pure fondness, but also because he wanted the girl to learn to enjoy sex, take it at her own pace.

"Would you like me to suck you?" Lupe asked, smiling brightly. She had a good mastery of English, having learned it from tourists most of her life. She couldn't read it, but she could speak it.

"Only if you want to," Brad told her.

"I do, daddy," she told him. He insisted she call him daddy.

"Then, when you're done, I'll show you something to really make you feel good," Brad promised.

Lupe leaned forward with a smile, her slender hands pulling his shorts down so his already hard cock could spring free. He had a huge cock, thick and long, and the girl was pleased. She gently kissed the head, then slowly worked it into her mouth.

Brad started to moan almost instantly. The girl continued to work his cock in, using plenty of tongue and saliva to aid her, sliding it in until Brad felt it enter her throat. Lupe could deep throat, a rare talent. Brad moaned in delight as she worked it in and out of her throat, her mouth, up and down, her tongue tickling at his glans, then sliding to the base of his cock until he was cumming.

When the girl had finished and was licking the last of his cum off of his cock, Brad leaned down and gave her a warm, gentle kiss on the mouth - Lupe's first. She blushed and giggled, then settled into his arms as he put them around her.

"That was very good, Lupe. Now I want to make you feel good," Brad told her. "Please take off your clothes."

Hesitantly, the girl got up and removed her clothes. She had a lovely body, already shapely, with small but firm, round breasts with light nipples. She stood in front of Brad, shivering a little.

"Are you going to put it in me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Not until you want me to," Brad told her, stuffing his cock back into his shorts. "Now lie down and relax. This will be wonderful for you."

The girl laid back on the pillows, and Brad lay down next to her, tucking one arm gently under her neck and kissing her softly on the mouth. His free hand slid over her body, gently caressing her nipples. Lupe moaned and began to kiss him harder.

Brad wanted to go slow with the girl, not frighten her. He continued to caress her nipples, which grew quite hard under his touch. Brad kissed down the length of her slender jaw, then to her neck, Lupe moaning the whole while. Her hands stroked his hair as he kissed her firmly across the neck and slender throat, working his way down to her breasts, and other points south.

Lupe let out a gasp of intense pleasure as he took one nipple in his mouth and sucked it, the fingers of his free hand gently tweaking the other. "Yes, yes...," she was panting, and his slid his hand down to the slim, bald pussy between her legs, pleased to find it growing wet. He felt Lupe tense, her legs closing tight, then relaxing as he continued to caress her there.

Brad continued to work his way down, licking and kissing at her slender stomach, tonguing gently at her navel. Lupe was growing more excited, her entire body writhing on the bed with absolute pleasure.

There was one thing in life Brad had tried to impress on his corrupted son, and that was bringing pleasure to a woman. Mark rarely used it, however. Very rarely. Never with his mother, Brad knew, because he had tried to the same things on June with no effect.

In fact, all he'd ever gotten was humiliation. The few times he had managed to bring her to orgasm, June would cry out, "Yes, Mark, yes!" instead of his own name. Each was a crippling blow that had finally sunk him to the lowest levels, and robbed him of ever taking pleasure in his wife again. Ever.

He worked his way down Lupe's soft thighs, then back up to the hot, bald slit between her legs. Spreading the lips gently with his fingers, he thrust his tongue in and began to suck furiously.

Lupe didn't last long. She let out an ecstatic cry of pleasure and came. Brad drank her juices down greedily; she tasted so fresh and sweet. Finishing her up, Brad slid in next to his young lover and put his arms around her. "I love you," Lupe whispered sleepily.

"I love you too," he told her back.

Down the beach, June was ready to pass out. She couldn't take anymore. The man had raped her mouth, then her ass, and now was working on her cunt for the fourth time. Each thrust hurt worse than the last, and she was too exhausted to achieve orgasm. He wasn't having any trouble, however.

All of it reminded her of Mark. The first time he'd raped her, he'd raped until she was too exhausted to feel anything. There had been so much fury and anger in his assault, that he'd actually hurt her more than she was used to. And he'd only been thirteen!

He hadn't let up, in fact, until she'd passed out. When she came to, she was on her bed, her clothes still ripped, Mark leaning over her. "That was just the start," he'd told her. "There's more to come, bitch." She knew then that he hated her.

Unfortunately for him, June was older and more experienced, and soon had her son's love back - provided she let him use her as he wished. And she had, because he was the best sex she'd ever had. His rapes always left her satisfied. And while he did it, she began turning his attention elsewhere.

June had grown up being told that all little girls were dirty whores who deserved what she was getting. She had come to believe that. And in turn, instilled it in Mark. It wasn't long before he lost interest in her and turned his attention to little girls exclusively. To aid him in this, she'd introduced him to some people she knew. These people formed a network of brutal pedophiles who dealt in kidnapping, rape, snuff films, child prostitution and kiddie porn. They became Mark's friends, his cronies. At the same time June continued to coach her son, improving his "technique" in all sorts of ways. Mostly, however, she enjoyed turning him onto little girls, until those were his only victims. With her help, and the help of his friends, she taught him how to subdue a girl afterward without killing her, how to take a victim without anyone knowing. She brought him to violent rape orgies and let him have fun. All this, of course, had a price. He still had to please her - which was not hard, it seemed Mark still enjoyed doing her - but he couldn't touch his sister.

"Think of her as a prize, Mark," she'd told him, after he'd expressed interest in Shannon. "Something you have to work for. Work hard for. When you get her, you want to be at your best. So you have to wait." And so Mark had waited, waited until now. June wanted Mark to handle his sister on his own. His father knew this well, and despite his protests, couldn't stop it. He knew better. Mark had done so well, too. With a start, June suddenly came awake. The man was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he'd been there; she could hardly move. Dizzy and shaking, she got to her feet and made her way back to her cottage, actually surprised she was still alive.

Brad gave Lupe a gentle kiss and tucked the covers in around her. His young lover went to sleep clutching a teddy bear and smiling, nude beneath the covers. He'd yet to take her virginity.

Brad glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight, and no June. Secretly, he almost hoped the men he'd paid to rape her today had killed her. It might have been against the rules, but sometimes the rules got broken. In June's case, it would be no big loss.

He decided not to worry, and crawled into bed next to Lupe, holding her close. Tomorrow, he was going to see some officials about making him her guardian. He'd grease all the palms he had to to do it. Of course, June would argue, but he hoped to reason it out with her. He'd have to do something big to get her to let him take Lupe in. He just didn't know what yet.

June stumbled through the cottage door and headed straight for the bathroom. She turned on the water in the tub as hot as she could stand, and slid in.

Two hours later, she felt slightly less sore and was ready for bed. She dried off, brushed her teeth, and headed for the bedroom. She didn't sleep in the same bed with Brad and for that reason, almost didn't notice the girl sleeping next to him.

When she did, she felt a surge of jealous anger she wasn't accustomed to. "You bastard," she muttered. So he had had sex with the girl. She knew it.

But that was okay. She'd make him pay for it, and pay dearly. Turning toward the other bed in the room, she climbed in. Yes, she'd make him pay dearly.

With that thought, she drifted off to sleep.

Looking down at Brianna's pussy, so plump and fresh and lovely, Mark just wanted to ram in. He wanted to bury himself in Brianna, to plunge into her warm, tight insides, feel her cunt muscles just wrap around his cunt and squeeze.

He wanted to, but not just yet. He wanted to savor Brianna. Most of all, he wanted to really hurt the girl. To show Julie just what he was capable of, by hurting her favorite sister. Sweet Brianna.

He jumped up, hauling Brianna with him. Julie was watching now. Shannon had gotten the whisk out and was probing her with the wine bottle, even though Julie hardly seemed to notice.

Mark bent Brianna over at the waist and slowly removed his belt from his pants. "Watch this, Julie. Watch and learn! You're little sister's going to pay for your fucking with me!"

Mark folded the belt over and raised it. Julie shook her head furiously. Brianna sobbed. Shannon giggled. Mark brought the belt down.

SCHWHACK!

The sound cut through the room like a gunshot, quickly followed by Brianna's scream of pain. Her little asscheeks quivered where Mark had licked them with the belt. The sight of it, the sound of it, excited him. He struck her again. This time she screamed and nearly fell. Mark caught her by the hair, making her scream some more. He hauled her erect and turned to to face him, raising the belt again. Julie was screaming. Brianna shook her head. He glanced at Brandi - she was looking at him in horror. Even Shannon had stopped her probing of Julie and was looking on, and this time, she wasn't smiling. She actually looked a little scared herself.

Mark brought the belt down, hard, right across her slit.

The crack was not as loud this time, but the effect as clearly evident. Brianna doubled over and collapsed, screaming in agony.

Mark threw the belt aside and lifted the girl, shoving her face into the cushions of the couch. He looked at Julie, who had by now, collapsed into sobs. Shannon was no longer attacking her. Her attention was fixed on the belt, lying a few feet away. She just sat there, staring at it.

Mark turned his attention back to Brianna. "Ass first, slut!" he shouted, spreading her tiny asshole as far as he could get it, plunging his hard cock in as fast as she could. It went about an inch and got stuck; Brianna was too tensed and too small to accept him without force. He pulled out and tried again, but it was no good. Brianna was just too small and too tight. He could have just rammed her, risked rupturing her asshole, causing the ultimate pain. But the risk of being found out was too great.

Instead, he got to his feet, ordering them all to stay put, and hurried upstairs to his room. After a frantic search, he found what he was looking for. K-Y jelly.

Racing down the stairs, he lathered it all over his dick, slicking up. None of the girls had moved. Esepecially not Brianna.

He knelt behind the girl, reaching one hand around her slender hip, and shoved a finger as far into Brianna's virgin pussy as it would go. The little girl let out a squeal of pain at the intrusion, then another as his cock slid into her tight asshole, just barely making it.

Mark began to pump. Short, quick jerks meant to bring her pain and him pleasure. He felt her maidenhead stretching against his fingertips, her little cunt growing wet in response to the rubbing, her little asshole puckering around his cock, trying to force him out. Brianna was shuddering, sobbing, her little wrists twisting against the bonds that held them.

"Yeah, that's it, you love this," Mark breathed, his own orgasm building as his cock slid in and out of her bowels. He didn't know if Brianna would come or not. He didn't care, either. He was the one having fun. The only one who should be.

Mark picked up the pace a little, making his strokes longer, harder, faster, until he was pumping his load again, deep into her bowels, driving his fingers harder, deeper into her cunt, stretching her maidenhead almost to the breaking point. Brianna was screaming and sobbing in agony, and the sound of it drove him off. He yanked his cock out of her, making thick, squishy sounds as his jelly slicked member slid out of her, then pushing her down to the floor and onto her back. This time, there would be no stopping.

"Look at me, bitch! I want to see you feel this!" he snarled, staring deep into the girl's eyes as she pushed his cock against the outer folds of her lips, and with an animal cry, shoved the rest of the way!

Like a juggernaut he rammed in, unstoppable, a force beyond comprehension to the little girl as he tore her already weakened maidenhead, plunging his slick cock in one thrust nearly all the way into her. Brianna's stomach flexed from the abrupt pain; she sucked in a breath, and then came the scream, only barely muffled by the gag in her mouth. Mark pumped the child like an animal, like a thing possessed, long, hard strokes that drove Brianna across the carpet. She screamed with each thrust, her tender bottom already stinging from the crack of the belt, now burning from its brush with the carpet, her still stinging pussy now filled with his huge cock, slamming her like a piledriver. Mark began to shudder as a third incredible orgasm took him, his thrusts slowing until they stopped, his cock buried to the hilt in Brianna. As if sensing something horrible the little girl screamed. Her screams were like music, and Mark came.

Very slowly he pulled out, his cock slick with Brianna's virgin blood and the K-Y jelly that had made his deep penetration so possible. For the moment, for Brianna at least, it was over. Mark stood, standing over her like a hunter with a trophy kill, then stepped away and headed for the kitchen. "I need a beer," he said aloud. "And then... a little Brandi chaser!"

Shannon leaned back, watching her brother for a moment, then looked back at Julie. The nipple with the mousetrap on it was badly swollen and bruising. Quickly Shannon removed it and tossed it aside, no longer wanting nor willing to hurt Julie anymore. Julie's attention, in turn, was on Brianna, who lay quietly crying on the floor, almost rooted to the spot.

"No more," Shannon muttered, reaching for Mark's belt. She snatched it up and shoved it under a nearby chair, hoping he wouldn't look for it. Seeing Brianna whipped had not excited her, as she thought it might. Instead, it horrified her.

Mark came back five minutes later and pulled Brianna to her feet, shoving her into a nearby chair, then dragging Brandi over. He dropped her unceremoniously to the floor and yanked her shorts and panties off, making it all to clear what he planned.

"Pussy first, babe," he laughed, pressing the mouth of the beer bottle to the outer folds of Brandi's cunt, grinning the whole time.

Brandi glared at Mark defiantly, tears streaming down her face. Mark pushed the bottle in a bit. The little girl stiffened but nothing else.

"Oh, tough, are you?" Mark asked, an icy edge to his voice. He pushed the bottle in further and kept pushing. Brandi bit down on her gag and squeezed her eyes shut, but refused to cry out, even when the bottle suddenly plunged in, having broken her hymen. Mark laughed and yanked the bottle out, replacing it with his cock.

Shannon was transfixed by this, excited and amazed. How could Brandi stand this?

Mark was not gentle. He plunged into the girl, each thrust of his stiff cock burying deeper and deeper into Brandi until he was all the way in. Though Brandi shook and cried and struggled, she refused to scream, and that only egged Mark on. He slammed her harder, attempting to force a scream out of her.

Brandi refused to give. Mark slapped her across the face. She whimpered a little but still wouldn't give in. He pounded her even harder, driving her across the carpet. Suddenly his body began to shiver. "Sh-shit! I'm coming! Scream you little whore! Scream or Brianna's going to get again, and worse this time!"

Brandi screamed. And screamed and screamed. Even with the gag in her mouth, the scream was piercing. It ended in a strangle sob as Mark stopped shuddering, having dumped his entire load into her. "Yeah, that's it. You know who's boss now!" he snapped.

Shannon found herself wet and shaking with excitement. This was incredible! It was something she'd have to try herself - holding back as long as she could. If Brandi could do it, she could!

Mark pulled his blood slicked cock out of the girl and pulled her up. Brandi stayed limp, incredibly still resisting. Mark flung her onto the couch, face down, and shoved his blood covered cock deep into her ass.

"Fucking slut! You better learn to scream or it'll get a lot worse! Don't piss me off, fucking whore!"

Brandi shook and sobbed but didn't scream. On the floor Julie was struggling to reach her sister, pulling against the bonds on her hands. Her face was pure white with fear and pain, more for her sister than herself. Brianna, sitting in the chair, had shut her eyes tight and was sobbing herself. Shannon, watching all of it with great interest, shoved her hand down into her shorts and began to eagerly finger herself.

Mark pulled out of Brandi and threw her to the floor with a grunt. The little girl glared at him, pure hatred in her eyes - but also more than a hint of fear. Shannon didn't think Brandi could take much more.

Mark picked up the beer bottle again and shoved it into the girl's cunt, working it in and out with long, rough strokes, while reaching up under her t-shirt and squeezing hard at her nipples. Brandi squealed in pain and tried to kick at Mark. He easily dodged her foot and grabbed her by the throat. "Do that again and you're dead!" he warned. Brandi didn't try to kick him again.

Once more Mark pulled the beer bottle out and replaced it with his cock. He was clearly pissed now, driving in and out of the girl with such powerful strokes that she screamed each time. Shannon watched him wrap his hands around Brandi's throat and knew what he was going to do next.

Julie started screaming. Shannon was nearly to orgasm, so caught up in the lustful passion that she didn't care what was happening. Brianna still had her eyes closed and saw nothing.

Mark began to shudder. His hands tightened around Brandi's throat and began to squeeze, tighter and tighter. Brandi began to wheeze, her little legs kicking feebly as the air was squeezed out of her. Then she suddenly went limp. With one last thrust, Mark came and let go of her.

Julie was sobbing now. Mark slid out of her sister and gave the girl a nudge with his foot. "Oops," he laughed, "she's dead."

Julie fainted.

A few minutes later, Brandi moaned and came around. Mark wasn't stupid; he didn't want a dead body on his hands. He'd choked her just long enough for her to pass out. It was a learned technique.

Mark stepped over and slapped Julie awake. "Come on, bitch, she's still alive." He untied the ten-year old and helped her up. "Take them upstairs and get them cleaned up. And you better tell them what's going to happen if they tell. Got that?"

Julie nodded, hurriedly yanking her shorts up and scrambling to untie her sisters. Across the room Shannon lay half-dazed on the floor, fingers shoved into her cunt, overcome by her orgasm.

"Shannon," Mark snapped. "Help Julie."

Shannon got slowly to her feet and helped Julie with the twins. Mark waited until they'd marched upstairs, then sat down on flipped on the TV.

What a wonderful afternoon, he decided. Now if he could just find his belt.

By sheer luck Julie was able to get the twins home and into bed. Her mom had come home early and wasn't feeling well - the flu, she said. Julie lied and said the twins were also not feeling well, but she'd take care of it.

She put the girls to bed and swore them to silence - not that they needed much urging. They didn't like what was happening but didn't want to see their mother die, either. Julie stayed with them until they fell asleep, then went back over to see Shannon. For the first time in weeks, she'd seen a glimmer of hope that she might have a chance to get through to her friend.

Shannon couldn't stop staring at Mark's belt. She couldn't stop shaking, couldn't get the sound of that belt lashing across Brianna's small body out of her mind. All of it horrified her.

She was becoming like Mark. Slowly, but surely, she was changing. No longer content to be used, but to be the user. Because of her, Julie was now part of this. And Brandi and Brianna and little Tiffany. And Jolene - Jolene was dead. Shannon had never wanted that - and yet she did. She'd wanted them to join her, to see how much fun she was having. She'd wanted it so bad, she'd been willing to hurt them to get it.

Angrily she flung the belt away, tears filling her eyes. Never again. From now on, she would not hurt another girl. Not directly, anyway. She would still help Mark get them. But she wouldn't go any further. Not anymore.

The door to her room opened and Julie stepped in, alone. She'd taken the twins home earlier. Julie didn't look too bad, despite the wire whisk treatment.

"Oh, Julie!" Shannon cried, and threw her arms around her friend, sobbing. "I don't know what's wrong with me! I don't want to hurt you anymore! Or anyone else!"

"It's okay," Julie said softly, patting her back. "It's not you, Shannon. It's Mark."

Shannon pulled away, shaking her head. "No, it's me. I wanted you to be like me. I still do. And I can't help it."

"Yes you can," Julie told her.

"No I can't," Shannon sniffed. "I can't, Julie. I like it too much. Being raped, being used. I want you to share in that. You and the twins and Tiffany and every little girl there is."

"How can you like this, Shannon? How?"

"Because I do," Shannon said, wiping at her eyes. "I just do."

"Why?" Julie asked. "Why do you like it so much?"

Shannon thought about it a moment. "Do you know what I hate? Having to be <good> all the time, having to be a perfect little girl. When I'm being raped, I don't have to be good, because I can't. I have no choice in the matter. I'm being forced, taken, against my will, made to do things good little girls aren't supposed to do. I like being bad... and I hate it that I like it so much, but I just can't control myself!"

Shannon lowered her head a moment, shuddering. "Besides, I keep thinking about this time, a long time ago. I was about six, I think." She raised her head, a faraway look in her eyes. "I didn't really remember it until after Mark raped me. Then it came back in a dream." She licked her lips. For a moment, she almost looked like the Shannon Julie used to know. "I was coming home from a Brownie meeting."

Shannon had brownies every Wednesday afternoon, and the meetings were usually held just down the street at her friend Amy Parker's house. She left the meeting in high spirits, having just earned one of her several badges.

She hurried in the front door and called out to her mother, eager to tell her, but there was no answer. Something crashed in the kitchen, followed by a muffled scream. Half-curious and half-afraid, Shannon went to look. What she saw shocked her.

Her mother was flat on her back on the kitchen table, her arms and legs spread and tied to the legs of the table itself. A dish towel had been tied over her mouth, muffling her screams. She was shaking her head and crying.

Shannon gasped when she realized who'd done this - her own brother. Mark stood off to one side, dressed only in jeans, one hand violently squeezing her mother's breast through her white silk blouse. He looked up when Shannon gasped, and grinned.

The grin was cold, mean, and looked nothing like her brother's usual, friendly smile; in fact, it was positively sinister. "Sit down, Shannon," he ordered. Shannon, horrified by this spectacle, sat down in the nearest chair. Mark came around with a dish towel and a length of rope. The rope he used to bind her into the chair, the dish towel he stuffed in her mouth.

Then Mark turned back to his mother, his face twisted into a mask of rage. "Fuckin' cunt whore!" he screamed, slapping her hard across the face, then backhanding her again for good measure, this time causing a little blood to trickle from her mouth. Her head lolled to one side, the look on her face dazed.

Mark was not done. "Damn cunt!" he screamed again, this time tearing at her blouse, rending it to shreds with just his fingers, then grabbing a carving knife and slicing her bra away, letting her small, round breasts fall free. Still not satisfied, he tore her skirt and panties away next, and climbed up, pushing his pants down.

Shannon started crying, as her mother was now doing. Mark had his thing out - Shannon had never seen one and didn't know what to call it - and he was shoving it into her mother, making her scream. He literally pounded her, shoving in and out, in and out, clearly hurting her, all the while calling her names and screaming at her at the top of his lungs. He slapped her again and again, loud, hard slaps that sounded like gunshots in the kitchen.

"How do you like it, bitch? You fuckin' raped me! My own fuckin' mother! You fuckin' raped me you fucking whore!" Mark screamed, bouncing up and down on his mother, slamming his fist again and again into her breasts and stomach, making her jump and cry out with pain.

"Aw fuck!" he shouted, pressing so hard into her mother than Shannon actually winced, it looked so painful. Then he withdrew, his thing dripped something white, all slimy and wet looking. He climbed off the table and walked around to his mother's face, yanking out the gag.

"Please Mark, no more," she begged, the words slurred by her swollen mouth.

"Fuck you, cunt!" Mark screamed, shoving his thing into his mother's mouth. "Suck me, bitch! Suck me for all you're fucking worth!"

He grabbed her head and began yanking it back and forth, bouncing her nose off his body, then suddenly yanking her face up against his abdomen, screaming, "Aw fuck, yes!" over and over again, then withdrawing. Once more he got up between her legs and started slamming in and out of her, until finally she was limp and totally unresisting. Shannon let out a panicked scream, thinking her mother was dead, and fainted away.

"I know he did it a lot more after that," Shannon told Julie. "I just didn't remember it until now. I guess I blocked it out or something."

Julie only nodded. "Maybe that's why you're like you are now."

"Maybe" Shannon agreed. "But I know I never want to be like I was today. Ever... again."

"I wish it could never have happened," Julie sighed. "Any of it."

"But it did," Shannon sighed. "And now, we just have to learn to enjoy it."

For the first time in years, Brad Harris was a happy man. He had young Lupe for his lover and by paying guys to rape his wife almost daily, he'd manage to talk her into letting him keep Lupe for himself. At least, he hoped he had.

Either way, June hadn't argued it too much. The morning after he'd gotten Lupe he'd awakened to find June lying in the other bed, watching him. "So who is she?" she asked.

"Her name is Lupe," Brad told her, putting one protective arm around the sleeping twelve-year old. "I want to keep her, June. Please."

"You fuck her?"

"Not yet. Please, June, I'll do anything if you let me keep her. Let me treat her the way I want to. Anything."

June had stared at him for a long time. "I guess," she'd finally said. "But she's your problem, not mine. And you'd better learn to do what I want, when I want it, Brad. I mean it. Fuck with me even once and she'll pay for it."

"I'll do it," Brad promised. "Now, we're supposed to be on vacation. Can I spend some time with Lupe?" He knew he sounded like a pleading child. With June, that's about what it amounted to anymore.

"Go ahead," June muttered, laying back down. "Now let me sleep."

That was yesterday. Brad had spent the whole day with Lupe, buying her clothes and other gifts. They had sex - Lupe blew him twice - though he had yet to take her virginity. Mostly they just kissed a lot, however. For Brad, it was like getting his teen years back.

He'd been careful never to let Lupe alone. Without a necklace, she was an easy target. More than once he was approached by people wanting to have sex with her. Brad turned them all down. He loved Lupe, and she loved him, and nobody else was going to have her.

Today he planned a special day for them. June had largely ignored the girl so far, and this morning had left early, before either of them were up. Brad made love to the girl before they got out of bed, in their own special, non-virginity taking way - and then rushed to check on the progress of her "adoption" while she showered. He'd greased a few palms the day before, enough to ensure he'd have no trouble getting Lupe home and getting her enrolled in courses so she could gain her citizenship. His calls were positive; everything was almost complete.

Lupe emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, smiling and dressed. She'd pulled her hair back with two barettes and wore tiny stud earrings in her earlobes, which he'd gotten pierced for her yesterday. She wore a pair of short white shorts with buttons along the sides, white sneakers, a white short sleeve blouse and a matching with windbreaker - with a white purse. It beautifully offset her dark skin and long, dark hair, and made her look innocent and incredibly sexy at the same time.

Brad grabbed her around the waist and lifted her in his arms, kissing her deeply on the mouth. Lupe kissed him back and hugged him, telling him how much she loved him.

Brad set her down. "Let me get dressed and we'll go," he told her. He hurried into the bathroom to shower and dress, then took Lupe's hand and led her out the door.

His first stop was at the front desk to get her a necklace. Unfortunately, the clerk told him, they were all out; it had been a big crowd this year. So Brad knew he'd just have to keep her close. And that certainly was not a problem.

They left the resort and had breakfast in a little town nearby, then spent the day browsing the coast, kissing and taking in the sights. For lunch, they stopped at the same little cafe they'd eaten breakfast at that morning. It was an outdoor cafe, overlooking the streets, and filled with tourists.

They'd just sat down when the waiter came over. "Excuse me, Senor, would you be Senor Brad Harris?"

"I am," Brad told him.

"A phone call for you, Senor. It is important."

Brad smiled at Lupe. "Maybe those people I talked to about taking you back with me," he said. He didn't think so. It was probably June. He'd left a note telling her where he'd be today, just in case. He might not have loved his wife, might not have trusted her, but he was still a dutiful bastard. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," Lupe agreed.

Mark followed the waiter inside to the telephone. He picked it up and said, "Hello?"

No answer. Nothing but a dialtone.

Shrugging, he hung up. The connection either got cut off or whoever had called wasn't interested in waiting. He turned to get out of the cafe and found himself caught in a press of bodies. It took almost five minutes to get clear and get outside - just in time to see Lupe being forced into the back seat of a car parked near the curb. "Lupe!" he cried, chasing after them, but it was too late. With a slam, the door shut and the car took off, with Lupe.

Lupe had been reading the menu, waiting for Brad, when a shadow came over her. She looked up into the face of a tall Mexican man in a sport shirt and slacks, grinning down at her. "Lupe?" he'd asked.

Lupe reacted with panic. She knew him from the hotel; she'd seen him when she'd been abducted and sold for the pleasure of the guests. She started to get up, but the man was fast. His hand went over her mouth and he grabbed her arm, hauling her out of the chair and propelling her toward the open door of a car parked nearby.

Lupe heard Brad shout her name, but was too late. She was shoved into the car, up against another man, and then her abductor climbed in and shut the door and they took off.

Lupe huddled into a ball, shaking and near tears. Aside from the Mexican man, there were five others. One, driving, was black, and the others were all white Americans. "Please don't hurt me," Lupe begged.

"She's cute," the man next to her said, running a hand down her shin. "Nice legs."

"Tie her hands and shut her up," the black man ordered. With the help of the Mexican man, the other man pulled her hands behind her and bound them. A gag was pulled into her mouth and tied behind her head, silencing her.

They began fondling her breasts and legs as they drove, eventually attacking her virgin middle. Lupe didn't resist; against six men, she was terrified. They drove her into the hills and stopped, whereupon her gag was removed and she was told to blow each of them, in turn.

"Me first," the Mexican man demanded. He unzipped his pants and exposed a cock that was tiny in comparison to the rest of him (Lupe didn't know it, but he was on steroids.) Lupe leaned down to take it into her mouth, hoping this was all they wanted and would let her go. This, at least, she could do.

Her long, black hair fell over her face, hiding the man's middle from the view of the others. Lupe had never had a cock this small. It barely reached into her mouth and she had an extremely easy time of arousing the man. A few flicks of her tongue around the glans and some hard sucking, and she had him cumming in no time. She swallowed it down, nearly gagging on the awful, bitter taste of it, and sucked him clean, then raised her head for the next man.

It was then she noticed that one of the American's, a young man with tight, curly blonde hair and sky blue eyes, was taping all of this with a hand camera. Cameras had always fascinated Lupe, and she smiled without meaning to. Then she turned away and lowered her mouth onto the other man next to her, her hair once more spilling like a veil over her face.

This man's cock was much bigger and thicker than the Mexican man's. Lupe, however, was very practiced at giving head and it was this that allowed her to handle this with a detached calm. She felt the man brush her hair back, allowing a full view of what she was doing.

Lupe worked her tongue, flat against the bottom of the man's cock, in a side to side motion while her lips worked back and forth. She twisted the bonds on her wrists a little, wishing she had her hands free to stroke his balls and get him off sooner. Sucking him this way was tiring, even for a practiced girl like her. She finally settled on working her head up and down, letting the motion of her lips do the work. She brought him to a cum and drank it down, then sat up once more, ready for the next man. Ready to do them all and hopefully to get this over with.

The two men in back got out and the black man and the other American got in. The American came first. He was a short, powerfully built man with a shaved head and the narrowest, meanest dark eyes Lupe had ever seen. "Don't swallow," he told her. "I want to see it." His tone was so low and menacing that Lupe shivered.

As she lowered her mouth, she found his cock soft. It took some manuevering, but she managed to get it into her mouth and work at it. She had him stiff in no time. His cock was the ideal size for her mouth, much like Brad's - long, but not thick. She worked at it as she would have Brad's, wishing it were Brad's and this was all some terrible nightmare.

The man made no sound. If he enjoyed this, he didn't show it. Lupe felt his cock pulse and drew back to catch the cum in her mouth.

Suddenly, her head was shoved down. The man's cock buried itself in her throat. Unprepared, Lupe began to choke. And the man was cumming now, cum shooting down her throat, into her windpipe, choking her more. She struggled to lift her head, but the man was holding it down. Lupe felt dizzy. Blackness swum around her vision. She thought she might pass out.

Then the man let go, and her head sprung up. She was gasping and sobbing, thick streamers of cum dangling from her lips. Before she could even hope to regain her composure, the black man grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her backwards, out of the car.

"Enough of this shit! Let's party!" he yelled. Lupe was pulled along and shoved backwards against the trunk. The black man shoved her gag back in and grinned at her. The grin really stood out, too: the man was black as midnight, with even darker eyes and no hair whatsoever. And he was huge. Built like a mountain, Lupe now saw fully, towering over her.

Lupe shivered as she heard zippers coming down. The black man yanked her shorts down and made her kick them off. She wore no panties underneath, which led her bald pussy exposed for all to see.

Lupe struggled, but the black man had her by the elbows and was holding her fast, back against the trunk. Lupe felt something touch her between the legs and looked down to see his cock there, hard and ready.

Lupe gasped. It was the biggest, thickest cock she'd ever seen. It must have been a thirteen inches, at least. And he was going to shove every single inch of it inside her.

"Pure Alabama black snake," the black man breathed, and shoved it into her.

Lupe nearly passed out. For a moment, she had visions of a telephone pole entering her body. She felt as if she were being split in two, the pain and the pressure of his huge cock, stretching her insides, was so great. Even when her hymen gave way the pain was almost too much to bear.

Lupe felt hands and lips caress her bare legs. The Mexican man grabbed her chin and jerked it back, kissing her slender throat. The black man was pumping slowly, in and out of her, leaving Lupe breathless, unable to scream or even cry.

She could feel the black man's cock way up inside of her, in places she didn't even know she had. And it hurt! Each stroke burned her insides, each thrust poked at her, making the pain worse and worse.

Suddenly, it was over. The black man pulled out, grinning. "Okay, who's next?" he asked.

The bald man jumped in. Literally. His first thrust drove her against the trunk lid and hurt so badly the girl shrieked. The second thrust was worse; it actually lifted her off of her feet.

There was no third thrust. The man simply pulled out and stepped aside to let the other American take over. He was slow but not necessarily gentle. Each thrust burned Lupe but failed to hurt her insides anymore. He simply wasn't long enough.

Lupe felt nothing with the Mexican man. Not only was he too small, but she was in so much pain she had almost gone numb down there. That didn't stop him from enjoying himself anyway. He was in her face every second, his foul breath assailing her nostrils and making her gag.

As soon as he finished, the black man stepped in again. Lupe shut her eyes. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

Two and a half hours later, a very numb and drained Lupe was untied and told to get dressed. Lupe hardly dared believe it was over now. She pulled on her clothes as quickly as she could, stopping only to wipe at her tears. She barely had time to get her shorts pulled up before the men grabbed her and once again bound and gagged her.

"On your knees, bitch!" the black man snapped, shoving Lupe to her knees. The other man was still taping this. What was next?

And then, Lupe saw the gun. Saw the Mexican man pull it out of the back of his pants and hand it to the red-haired American. Watched the red haired American draw the slide back on the gun and point it at her.

Brad was beside himself. He was the one to blame for this. If he'd only stayed with her. If he'd only been there, she'd be here with him now. She'd be safe and warm in his arms.

June, sitting on the other bed, looked up from the novel she was reading. "Stop pacing, Brad. You're driving me nuts."

"Well fucking excuse me," Brad snapped, continuing to pace. "Maybe you like this shit, but I don't!"

"Temper, temper," June giggled.

"You set this up, didn't you? You set it up so somebody would snatch her."

"So what if I did? She belongs to me as much as you do, Brad. Are you mad because I took your toy away? Tough shit. Just remember, there isn't shit you can do. If anything happens to me, Mark has the other key to the safety deposit box and enough things to say about what you did to him to make your life a living nightmare. So don't forget it!"

Brad bit back a sharp reply. If anything happened to Lupe - anything! - June would pay. Not immediately. But one day. When she least expected it. He promised himself it would happen.

There was a knock at the door. Brad scrambled to answer, tripping over the waste can near the bedroom door and falling flat on his face. Cursing and swearing he got back up and raced to the door, yanking the door open to reveal a very bored looking desk clerk standing there, holding a videotape in his hand.

"For you," the clerk said, handing over the tape and leaving without so much as asking for a tip. Brad slammed the door and looked the tape over. No label. Nothing to tell him what it was about.

Hands shaking, he stuck it into the VCR on top of the TV and pressed PLAY. What he saw made him sick.

On the screen, Lupe was sucking at the dick of a huge Mexican man - one of the hotel staff, Brad recognized, the same man, in fact, that he'd bought Lupe from. When she finished and raised her face, she smiled. It was like a blow in the stomach.

He watched, alternately horrified and sick, as Lupe sucked each man, then as her young, virgin body was ravaged, all right there on tape. Five men. All people he'd seen around the hotel. "Untouchable" people, no less.

Eventually, the men finished. Lupe dressed and was bound and gagged again, shoved to her knees. Brad leaned forward for a better look.

No.

One of the men had a gun now. The Mexican. Handing it to a red haired man. That man, in turn, pointed the gun at Lupe, who was sobbing now, fear written all over her beautiful face.

No...

Lupe... her eyes pleading.

No, no, no, no!

The gun firing... Lupe flying backwards, legs kicking out from under her, crashing into the dust.

NO!

Lupe laying in the dust, eyes vacant and staring, a single bullet hole in the middle of her forehead, blood running down her face.

From within the bedroom, Brad could hear June laughing.

April Martinez was up earlier than her parents this morning, already out and running along the beach. Only nine and an only child, this was April's first time in Mexico.

Her family was from Sacramento, where her father worked as an engineer and her mother was a teacher. They'd come here for a two week summer vacation and April was enjoying every minute of it.

April's father was Mexican and her mother half-Japanese, half-Chinese, and all of this was reflected in April. She was small, three feet eleven inches, and weighed a scanty fifty pounds, which made her quite slender. Her hair was wavy and jet black, falling to her waist, and she had a trace of the dark skin her father was born with. Her eyes were brown and almond shaped and her face was fine featured and very pretty.

Today April had her hair pulled back in a pony tail and wore a pair of white shorts with little bows on the sides, a pink t-shirt and a white windbreaker, with white sneakers - a striking resemblance, though she could not know it, to a girl named Lupe.

What she could not also know was that her early morning walk along the beach would be the biggest mistake of her young life. Just after sunrise the next morning Brad and June rose and dressed for todays little expedition. Brad wore white tennis shorts and a white golf shirt with white knee socks and sneakers and a windbreaker, while June wore white shorts and sneakers with a white sleeveless top and a windbreaker, all complimented by sunglasses and a sun visor. They both looked like typical tourists - just what Brad wanted.

Setting out from the hotel, they headed south, along the coast toward the nearest resort. It was a family oriented resort, replete with lots of kids to pick from. Along the way they passed the couple from Stockton. Their car was still pulled over, and as they passed, June saw vultures picking at their dead bodies and was nearly sick.

"They haven't been found yet," June murmured.

"Good," Brad said nonchalantly. "Less evidence by the time the vultures get done."

He said no more as they drove, finally coming into sight of the beach that stretched out from the other resort. They hadn't gone far before Brad slowed down. "There. Look."

June looked. There was a young girl walking along the beach. Very young, and very pretty. All alone.

Brad pulled over. "Go get her. Bring her up here." He opened the glove compartment and pulled out two rags, soaking them with the chloroform also in there. "And make it fast."

June nodded and got out, stuffing the rag into a pocket of her windbreaker. Maybe if she did this, Brad would calm down some, become less... brutal. She'd actually been surprised this morning to find she was still alive. Even more surprised that he hadn't threatened her life again.

June made her way carefully over to the little girl, her hand clenching and unclenching around the chloroform rag in her pocket. She didn't relish the idea of dragging the child up the beach and hoped she'd come easily.

"Hi there!" June called, putting on her friendliest smile.

The girl looked up and smiled. "Hi."

"What's your name?" June asked. "I'm June."

"April Martinez," the girl replied. She made her way over to June, completely innocent and trusting. She looked cute, about nine or ten, June guessed. And just what Brad wanted, at least in looks.

"I'm trying to find the hotel," June told her. "Can you tell me how to get there?"

"That way," April said, pointing down the beach.

"It'd be a lot easier if you showed me. My husband and kids are there but they didn't give me very good directions, honey. Would you mind a little ride? It's just me."

April looked indecisive, then nodded. "I guess so."

"Great. My car's right up here." June took the girl's hand and lead her toward the road. Brad was nowhere in sight, probably still hiding behind the car, watching. There wasn't any traffic yet, but she wanted to hurry anyway.

As they approached the car, Brad opened the back door and stepped out. Instantly, June knew what he had in mind and grabbed April.

June grabbed ahold of the little girl while Brad pressed the chloroform rag to her face. It only took a few seconds to take effect, and then the girl sagged in June's arms. Brad to her and shoved her into the back seat, binding and gagging her with a speed that would have made a rodeo calfer proud. "Shut the door," Brad shouted, "and let's get out of here!"

It was no trouble to get the girl into the hotel. Nobody here was going to say anything even if they saw her, and Brad knew it.

Little April didn't yet awakened, and Brad had other things to do. People to talk to and items to obtain, and whatnot. All for preparing April

But as he turned to leave, his eyes fell on June, sitting demurely on the opposite bed. Her face was passive and calm, and just the way she sat reminded Brad of how she had been as a teenager, before she'd pulled all the crap on him. She looked... beautiful.

"Take off your clothes."

June jumped at the sound of his voice. "Yes, Daddy," she said softly, and hurriedly began to strip.

"Don't call me Daddy. Call me Brad. I'm your husband, aren't I?" he asked softly.

June nodded quickly. She was actually shaking, Brad saw, and came to realize then how his abrupt change terrified his wife. It felt good to see that... and yet a small part of him felt guilty. June scared very easily. She just didn't show it. Yet it was something he'd never used against her, until now.

He realized he could do anything to her now, demand almost anything of her. But at the moment, he didn't want to. He wanted to be nice to her. He worried for a moment he might be slipping back into his old self.

June stood quietly while he undressed, her hands folded over her tight pussy. Brad gently slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her. She didn't seem to now how to react, and he kissed her again. This time, she kissed back. Her entire body was tense, shaking. Gently, but not as gently as he would have, Brad lowered her to the bed and pressed his cock into her, holding her tightly.

"Get ready for the ride of your life," he promised.

He started to pump her, not fast or slow, and not enough to hurt. To his surprise, she began to respond almost immediately. There was nothing fake about it. He'd seen her fake it enough to know. This was real. Her thighs were quivering, her breath coming in short gasps, her eyes squeezed tight. For once, it was fucking real.

June was surprised at herself. She was actually enjoying this, her orgasm building up in her, hot and fierce. Maybe it was the fear. Or maybe it was just Brad. He wasn't gentle, nor was he hurting her. He was just aggressive enough to be exciting. And yet... they were making LOVE. And she did love him. As terrified as she was, she did love him.

She found herself crying out his name as he flooded her with his cum, bringing her to climax. He collapsed onto her, kissing her deeply, and she was kissing him back. For a long time, that was all they did.

Come what may, June had made a decision in that time. From now on, she was going to love her husband. She didn't know what had driven her to this after all these years, but she was there. Never again would she attempt to hold anything against him or do anything to him. She was his now, and always would be.

She could only hope he felt the same way.

As the two of them were getting dressed, April finally came around. Confused at first, she quickly realized her situation and began to cry and struggle.

"I've got stuff to do," Brad told June. "Strip her and give her an enema. The stuff's in the bathroom. Make sure you clean her up good. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

June nodded and set to work. She was still pretty stunned by what had just happened to her, but not too stunned that she couldn't convey a few dire threats to April to make her cooperate. The little girl gave her no trouble as she was untied and then made to strip.

June had never given an enema before, and had to follow the instructions on the box it came in. It turned out to be a messy process, and afterward, just to be safe, she gave the girl a bath and dried her off. She didn't know why Brad wanted this, but she wasn't going to question him.

She brought April back and laid her on the bed, ordering her to be quiet. Brad came in a few minutes later, carrying a small metal box with a number of wires and probes dangling from it, and a set of needles. He ordered June to hold the girl down while he injected her with each of the needles, ignoring the girl's whimpers of protest, then stepped away as she again slid into unconsciousness.

"She'll be out for a while," Brad said. "The guy I got this stuff from said it takes a bit to work."

"What does it do?" June asked.

"Neat stuff. Nothing for you to worry about." He tossed the needles into the nearby wastebasket. "Let's just say it's a whole new dimension in fun. For us."

June nodded. "Us. I like the sound of that."

"Get used to it, babe. You've got a partner now." And then he pushed her down onto the opposite bed, tugging her shorts down, and once more, they made love. Glorious, wonderful love.

Little April was pale and silent until Brad started tying her wrists to the headboard, then the tears came. Brad ignored them as he finished tying her down. He forced the dildo gag into her mouth and strapped it behind her head, then pulled out The Box.

Working silently, he applied a little silicone to each of the girl's tiny nipples and tapped the flat, stetoscope ends of two wires to each breast, which gave them the look of something you'd seen in the hospital. Applying a little more silicone to yet another end, this one resembling a small cone, he spread her quivering pussy lips and slid the cone over her clit. He taped two more flat ends to her outer pussy lips and then inserted a pair of slim probes into her tiny rectum and peehole. Taping the last one into place, he stepped back to examine his work.

Little April looked like the innocent victim of some mad doctor. Of course, Brad wasn't a doctor - he was just mad. He had picked the device up from a doctor, however, a Dr. Brandt or something, who was also staying at the hotel. According to Dr. Brandt, the device used electric shocks that were quite mild but to the girl would feel very painful; in effect, pain without damage. There was another probe Brad could insert into the girl's pussy as well, and that one, along with the rectal and peehole probes, were also capable of vibrating or shocking the girl, providing either pain or stimulation. It all depended on how the machine was set.

The injections Brad had given the girl earlier were also from Dr. Brandt. One toughed the inner walls of her vagina and rectum to prevent tearing, while the second would stimulate her to powerful orgasms. The third would prevent her from going into shock, keeping her mind very clear, no matter what. Combined with the shocks, Dr. Brandt promised it would break the girl's spirit very quickly.

Brad sat down on the bed next to the little girl. "Now listen to me, April," he told her, his voice low and soothing, yet with a hint of menace. "Your mommy and daddy want me to do this to you. They hate you. They say you're a very bad little girl and I have to hurt you." April shook her head. Brad ignored her and went on. "They hate you so much they told me to kill you when I'm done." April shrieked, but the gag in her mouth was enough to muffle it. Not that it mattered. Nobody who heard it would care.

Brad walked back to the box and hit the switch. As voltage surged into the wires, April screamed and tensed, her back arching with pain. The juice was little more than that of a couple D cell batteries, but it was enough to hurt. He let off the switch and April dropped onto the bed, panting and sobbing.

Brad hit the switch again several times in rapid succession, watching her body jump and twitch. He began to giggle hysterically. This was so much fun!

For the next half hour he tortured the child, laughing at her pain. Dr. Brandt had warned him not to go longer than that at a clip, just to be safe. Anyway, the little girl was nearly unconscious now, and Brad had yet to rape her.

He left the box go and sat down beside her. She tried to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. "Did you like that, April?"

April shook her head violently. "Oh, you didn't? Well I did. I think your mommy and daddy would be pleased with me. They really wanted to be here to see this, but they couldn't. Do you hate them for letting this happen, April?"

For a moment, the girl hesitated, then nodded. "You should. I'll tell you what. If you're a good girl from now on, I won't hurt you anymore. I'll buy you toys and clothes and anything you want, but you're going to have to do what I say. I'll be your daddy, and she'll be your mommy." He pointed to June. "Do you like that?"

April shook her head. "Well, you'll have time to change your mind. We're not done yet." While April's eyes grew wide, he went back to the box and shocked her again for another ten minutes, then asked her if she'd changed her mind. She nodded slowly.

Brad wasn't convinced. The girl would do anything to make the pain stop - what he wanted was her to totally accept him and June as her "parents." Maybe after the rape, she would.

"Daddy," June asked hopefully, "can I try something?"

Why not? Brad thought. She has more experience. "Yeah. Go ahead."

While Brad watched, his wife gently removed the connections from April's clit and the lips of her pussy and bent her head to suck the little girl's cunt. Afraid at first, April quickly began to respond, the drug in her system taking over, increasing her sensitivity to the point that she was soon shaking with her first powerful orgasm.

June got back to her feet, licking her lips. "Tastes great," she told him. Brad just grinned.

"I'm glad you liked it." He removed the remaining probes and contacts from April's body, noting that as he did, the little girl almost seemed relieved. She didn't cry or scream when he removed the dildo gag, which, he noticed, had deep bite marks in the stiff rubber cock. He'd hate to think if that had been HIS cock in there!

Brad smiled at the little girl as he removed his clothes, holding her gaze with his own. April swallowed hard a couple of times but didn't cry, at least until Brad lowered his hard cock toward her mouth. Then she twisted her head away. "No, please, no!" she begged.

"Do you want more pain?" Brad asked. "Do you want me to shock you some more?"

"No," April whimpered.

"Then suck this!" Brad ordered. April clamped her jaws shut and refused, shaking her head violently.

"I can't," she whimpered between gritted teeth.

"Yes you can!" Brad snapped. He was getting pissed and that wasn't good. He hadn't wanted to damage the girl, but it looked like he'd be forced to. One more try, though.

"April, either you suck this or I'll shock you again, do you understand? Only this time I'll turn it all the way up and leave it on, and it'll melt you like a fucking candle!"

That did it. Sobbing, April opened her mouth and accepted his cock. She didn't have a big mouth and it was easy to fill, but the trouble was, her teeth got in the way.

"No teeth!" Brad snapped. "Keep your teeth off of it!"

April closed her mouth, stretching her jaws so her teeth didn't brush him. She kept her eyes closed as she sucked, the way a child would take bad medicine. She wasn't bad, either; her little lips formed a perfect, massaging seal around his cock, making him swell and throb in her hot young mouth.

Brad worked himself slowly up and down, eager to fill the girl's throat with his fresh cum. He grinned at June, who stood off to the side, finger herself slowly with one hand stuffed down her shorts. "Oh yes, Daddy," she breathed, "make her suck it all down, Daddy!"

"You hear that, April? I want you to drink my cum. It's good for you," Brad told the little girl. He began to work himself up and down a little faster, nearing orgasm. April was good, but she'd get better - he'd see to that.

When he came, Brad grabbed the back of the little girl's head and jerked up, burying his cock agaisnt the back of her throat. April thrashed wildly against the bonds that held her down, her face turning a bright red as she choked and gagged on his cock and the gobs and gobs of fresh cum he was shooting down her throat. Brad managed to empty his load into her before she could pass out and pulled away, April collapsing back, sobbing and gagging and panting for breath.

"Pussy time!" Brad sang, slipping back down and pushing his cock into her. Not slowly, but fast and rough, forcing it in and stretching the membrane of her hymen as hard as he could. April's gasping turned to a scream of agony as the hymen stretched and stretched, pushed beyond it's breaking point, strengthened by the special drug he'd given her. And then it broke. April's eyes rolled back in her head and she let out a low, painful moan as Brad slammed into her full force, his cock squeezing painfully into her tender fuck canal. She was incredibly tight and warm and wet inside, and freed now of her hymen and assisted by the other special drug, her moans of pain became moans of pleasure as Brad brought her around.

He worked the little girl like he'd work a woman, thrusting in and out with long, full strokes, achieving total penetration. April squirmed and wiggled, alternately moaning and crying out as he brought her both pleasure and pain. And then, almost without warning, she was shaking as the orgasm took her and Brad was dumping his second load deep into her underdeveloped womb.

Brad climbed off the little girl and turned to June. Casually, he said, "I'm hungry. Let's go get some dinner."

June looked a little dazed, having just come off of her own orgasm, but nodded. Pulling her hand out of her shorts, she straightened up.

Brad pulled his clothes back on and looked down at the sobbing April. "Got a surprise for her," he said. "Hey, April, you've got one more chance to decide. When we come back, you'd better make up your mind." He took June's hand and led her into the living room. Six men were sitting around, watching the TV. June hadn't even heard them come in.

All of them were hotel staff or guests, and there was no doubt what they were here for. "In there, guys," Brad told them. "Don't fuck her up too much and do not, I repeat, DO NOT mark her up. You mark her up and I'll mark you up, got that?"

All six men nodded, then filed past him. Before he even reached the door, he heard April's terrified, muffled screams starting in the bedroom.

The last of the men were just leaving when Brad and June came back from dinner. It looked like a few more than the original six had come in.

April was still tied to the bed, no longer gagged, bathed in a sheen of sweat. She appeared to be shaking, sobbing now, but not physically damaged, which Brad was pleased to see. As soon as June entered, April's eyes fell on her.

"Please Mommy, make it feel good again," April pleaded.

Brad smiled. The kid was learning.

He watched June untie her and comfort her. April was actually hugging her back. Brad moved to break them apart so she could rape April again, but June backed away, holding the girl. She looked scared and defiant at the same time.

"No, please, let me have her. I promise that next time you want her she'll love it. Please, Brad." She winced as she said his name, realizing she'd made a mistake.

But Brad wasn't angry. He'd never seen June like this before and it intrigued him. Besides, if she was telling the truth, a submissive April would be more fun than a screaming, fightng one, especially in the long run.

"All right. I'm going out for a drink," he told her, and left.

As soon as April's tears stopped, June laid her back and got undressed. Laying gently atop the girl, propped up by her elbows, she gave her April a deep, lingering kiss on the mouth. Surprised at first, April soon responded, kissing her back with the same passion. Wisely, June knew the girl did it out of gratitude more than passionate need, but that would soon change, she hoped.

For now, she broke off from April's lips and kissed her way down the girl's neck and throat, gently licking and sucking at her swollen nipples before moving down, down further, to the girl's swollen cunt.

She thrust her tongue in and tasted cum. Hungrily she licked it up, at the same time stimulating April to an orgasm. As soon as it swept over her, June pulled the girl into her arms and held her tight. April sighed contetedly, then began to cry. Tears of gratitude.

June couldn't explain just why, but she liked little April. Maybe it was the fact that the girl reminded her so much of herself - scared, but needing and enjoying the pleasure of orgasm, no matter how she arrived at it. Either way, June wanted to keep this little girl and raise her as her own, which she would - if Brad decided it would be.

Brad. Tonight, something in her feelings toward Brad had changed. She was still scared of him, but... she loved him more than she had. In fact, she was no longer sure it was the fear of him that brought her orgasms on as much as it might be something else. Maybe just the fact that he was more agressive with her was all.

She snuggled April against her breast and held her tight. She had enjoyed making love to the girl and was eager to do it again. If Brad let her, she would teach April the joys of lesbian sex - something June had done most of her married life, though nobody but her secret girlfriend back home knew about it. Soon, she hoped, April would know. It was the only other non-forced way, outside of masturbation, that June had ever been able to have an orgasm. Maybe, when they got back, she could teach Shannon and her little friends all about it.

In the meantime, she would still enjoy helping Brad rape the little girl. Some things, after all, just never changed. But what came afterward would definitely be different.

Smiling, she closed her eyes and went to sleep, clutching her newfound lover very tightly.

Brad leaned back in bed and sipped lightly at the drink he'd poured himself. A job well done. Little April was coming along nicely, and so was June. Both would ultimately recognize him as their master.

It wouldn't end there, however. Not by a long shot. When they got home, Shannon would be next. From what he'd learned from Mark, Shannon knew nothing about her mother being the key to this all. And not even Mark knew how he, Brad, had changed. Wouldn't they be surprised?

He found he liked being this way. He felt invincible, all powerful. No more threats from June. No more humiliation when she would cry out Mark's name during sex. Sex. Yes, sex was now a new and pleasurable experience for Brad.

Of course, things at home would have to change. He would still let June have her control over Mark - but his son would also recognize HIM as an equal now. The way it should be. And June... eventually, June would learn to submit totally, to be all his.

And then, she'd get hers. He hadn't forgotten. He never would. Yes, life was wonderful.

It had been a long night for Mark. Following the twins' rape, he'd gone up to Shannon's room, where he'd left Tiffany, and taken her to his own room. The little girl was quiet, but there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes.

It was fortunate for her that he was tired out from raping the twins, or he'd have done her again. As it was, he left her where she was and laid down next to her, just grinning at her like a cat would at mouse it's just playing with.

Mark already had plans for Tiffany. It had been a long time since he'd made a snuff film; almost two months now. And he wasn't ready to waste either of the twins, or Shannon and Julie. If somebody else did it, fine.

Not that he wanted that. It wasn't out of love or compassion that he didn't want it; the girls, all four of them, represented for Mark a goal. That goal was to make them submissive rape slaves, addicted to the orgasm and willing to accept the pain to achieve it.

He'd done well with Shannon. She'd almost gone over the edge there - almost become like this mother. But she'd pulled back. He didn't know why nor did he care. What he did care about was that she was addicted to the orgasm. She would do anything to achieve it - at nearly any cost.

He felt sure Julie was coming around as well. Not as well as Shannon, however. There was no joy in Julie anymore. No happiness or innocence. She could put on an act, but it didn't convince Mark. Julie was simply too smart, too knowledgeable from the start. She, too, would become a slave to the orgasm, but that was all. She would not enjoy, as Shannon did, what was happening to her. She would simply accept it.

The twins, he decided, would not be the same. They were young yet, and young girls bounced back easily - look at Shannon! Their minds were still maleable. In time, they could be "trained" the accept all of this as a normal part of their routine. Go to bed, get up, brush your teeth, get raped, go to school... yeah, maybe.

For the time being, he had to deal with Tiffany. He didn't plan to keep her much beyond tomorrow, so he kept his promise and untied her, then called Shannon up to play with her. She came up alone. She said Julie had gone home to watch the twins. Fine with him.

This morning, after leaving the girl tied up downstairs in the basement all night, he'd brought her up to his room and left her on the bed, still bound and gagged, and called his cronies. As soon as he hung up, he called Julie.

Julie's mom left for work at seven; the twins left for camp at nine. Only today, they wouldn't be going to camp. Today, he and his friends would continue "educating" the girls in the fine art of rape. After Tiffany, of course.

What a great way to start the day!

A little after eight-thirty, Mark's cronies started arriving. He never called them friends; they weren't. Acquaintences, maybe, collaborators, co-workers - but not friends.

There were six of them. Mark only knew first names. Jim, Mike, Carl, Peter, Artie and Jake. Jake was the "photographer," a small, wiry man with wild graying hair and wire frame glasses. He was nearly in his forties but still acted like a teenager.

There were other members not present that day, and Mark really didn't miss them. He didn't want a big crowd for this film, or for the twins. The seven of them would do just fine.

While Jake was setting up, Mark and the others fondled Tiffany. The girl responded with a lot of whimpering and squirming; she had no idea she was going to die. Which was half the fun of things, really.

Finally Jake announced that everything was ready. The seven of them stepped back and began to strip. It never bothered them to see each other naked; their only interest was in the young victim, in this case, Tiffany, who stared at them all with very wide eyes and squirmed on the bed, her body conveying her wish not to have this happen, since her mouth was gagged.

Jake went first. He approached the little girl almost timidly, but there was no mistaking the twisted, lustful look on his face, or the hideous, toothy grin that made little Tiffany shiver. Like some mad cannibal he clasped his hands together and gazed over her body, as if trying to decide where to start.

"Let's all do her... at once," he suggested, giggling.

They surrounded her, hands reaching out to grasp her young body. The sound of ripping cloth filled the air as they roughly tore her blouse and shorts away, followed by her panties, which were passed around for each of them to take a long sniff of. Tiffany began screaming and sobbing almost immediately, even though it was lost on the gag in her mouth.

Now was when the real abuse would begin. Mike grabbed the little girl's head and yanked out her gag, shoving his cock into her open mouth. "Don't bite me!" he warned, and began sawing in and out of her. Jake, in the meantime, grabbed the youngster's tiny hips and plunged himself into her, causing her to bite down on Mike's cock, which made him scream and smack her.

Jim and Carl began suck on her little titties, while Peter and Artie settled for fondling her legs and kissing the soft flesh of her calves. Mark stood back, waiting. He would be the one to deliever the coup de grace to young Tiffany.

Mark watched Mike pull out of the little girl and shoot his load on her face, then scoop up the cum and make her lick it off his fingers.

As soon as Jake finished with her cunt, the others lined up to have their turn. Jake moved onto her mouth, forcing her to suck him, while Peter was pumping hard in her cunt. It was such a pleasure for Mark to see the little girl's tight, bare cunt stretched by the cocks of these grown men. This, he felt, is the only way sex should be.

By this time the others had taken to fondling whatever portion of Tiffany they could reach, driving her into a wild frenzy. Ass, titties, legs, anything. They fondled and fucked and sucked at the little girl until they were spent, and then, it was Mark's turn.

Tiffany was by now nearly unconscious and definitely in shock. Mark hardly cared. She was still awake enough to respond to what he wanted, and he mounted her, sliding his cock into her pussy. She'd become quite loose after the vicious gang pounding, but not so loose as to be unenjoyable.

Slowly he began to pump, stimulating himself without going too far along. He wanted to take his time, enjoy this, get it just right. Tiffany responded with whimpers, which was just plain old fine with him!

From under the bed Mark produced his own favorite garotte - a little girl's knee sock, with a huge knot in the middle. Slow, but effective.

He worked himself in and out of Tiffany while he slipped the garotte around her neck, making sure the knot was over her windpipe. Tiffany didn't seem to realize she was about to die; her sobs continued, until Mark tightened the garotte.

Instantly Tiffany tensed, her face turning red, then blue, as Mark tighted the sock. Her body jumped and twisted as she fought desperately to breathe, all the while her cunt muscles were tensing down on Mark, bringing him closer to climax... and then, as he gave it one final tug, a tug so hard it crushed her fragile windpipe, Tiffany's cunt muscles tightened around his cock so much he felt she might squeeze the head off, and he came. It was the final scene. With a groan of satisfaction, Mark collapsed on top of the little girl's now lifeless body and started laughing.

Mark had gone through a lot of expense with the twins, just as he had for Shannon and Julie. They were dressed in identical outfits: pink shortall dresses with white short sleeve blouses underneath and white leather slippers. Both wore white sweaters. Mark had bound and gagged them both, letting them wait while he and his friends had their fun with young Tiffany.

Julie did her best to comfort the frightened twins, while Shannon watched the stairs. Half an hour later Mark and the othes came down. One of them was carrying Tiffany, who was covered in a blanket. Julie couldn't tell if she was dead or alive.

The man carried the girl out, while Mark and the others moved to the twins, pulling them to their feet.

Julie watched Mark and his friends lead the twins into the basement. Brandi, fierce as ever, fought, but Brianna simply looked lost and frightened, her sad gaze fixed on Julie.

Julie had to turn her head away. It hurt her when her sisters - especially Brianna - asked her when the hurting would stop. And she'd have to tell them she didn't know, and swear them again and again to silence.

She had lost any control she might have had over Mark. He had the twins now, and if she tried anything, they were finished, and so was her mother. She looked at Shannon and sighed.

"I'm not going to give either of you any more trouble," Julie promised solemnly. "I'll do whatever I'm told. I guess... I guess I realize that... I can't change what's happened, or... I guess I just can't fool Mark. I'll never like it, but I don't... I don't see as I have any choice anymore."

"You don't," Shannon told her flatly, yet with a lot of sympathy. "Not unless you want to see your mother die."

"N-No, I don't," Julie said, shaking her head. She had lost the twins. She didn't want to lose her mother, too.

"I'm sorry it's that way, Julie. Really. I wish... I wish it could be just like it is wth me." She looked at Julie, straight on, eye to eye. "I don't ever want to hurt you again, Julie, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid that Mark will make me. So please, don't, don't ever give us trouble. Please!"

"I said I wouldn't," Julie promised. "And I won't."

Shannon reached over and hugged her. The she leaned back, wearing a look on her face that was half glee and half anger. "Mark wants us to watch the twins get gang-raped. I... I... we have to go, Julie."

Julie nodded. She knew that Shannon wanted to see. She just didn't want to admit it. She was at war with herself, to quote something Julie had heard once. She hated it and loved it.

It was wild, really. Because there was some pleasure in this. The pleasure of orgasm. Julie had never experienced anything like it before and each time she did, she wanted more. It didn't matter how. She felt a sense of abandonment when she thought of it; that she would do anything, take any risk, even face death itself, to achieve that goal.

And, Julie realized, she would have to learn to be that way if she was to ever accept that. Resigned to the situation, she followed Shannon down to the basement.

Brianna could only stare, helplessly, up at the men who surrounded her. She lay on the pool table in the rec room, painfully aware of the hard felt-and-slate surface under her, ramming her bound hands into the small of her back.

One of the men climbed up and spread her legs. Lifting her thighs, he pulled the crotch of her panties aside and plunged his rock hard cock into her. Brianna screamed at the assault and then relaxed, knowing it was the only way to endure this, knowing that soon he would make her wet inside and it wouldn't hurt as much.

With the wetness came the pleasure. Though still in pain, Brianna felt a tingling down there and in her belly that quickly overcame most of the pain, leaving her half-moaning and half whimpering, with pain and pleasure. She knew it was wrong to feel this way, and she hated it, hated the man for what he was doing, but she was powerless to resist this new feeling, which grew and filled her with each stroke of the man's pistoning cock. It served only to make her feel worse about herself, to believe the things Mark had told her, that she really was a bad girl.

She wondered for a moment why she hadn't felt this last night, and then the feeling overwhelmed her, making her tiny body quiver and shake, a low moan escaping her as her vision swam and danced in a sea of lights. The effect was such that she was not aware that the man had come in her and pulled out, making way for the next man. She was aware only of the overwhelming pleasure, at least for the moment, and nothing else.

Brianna was barely conscious an hour later when the men had finished with her pussy. The brutality of the assault and the pleasure of her orgasms had left her weak and barely able to keep her eyes open.

Mark looked over his friends, who were now sprawled about the room, smoking cigarettes and looking worn out. Give them time to rest, and they'd be back for more - and more. A few of them eyed up Julie and Shannon, who sat against the wall in one corner, both staring at Brianna, laid out on the pool table. Shannon was smiling softly. Strangely, Brianna wasn't crying; rather, she was moaning, as if she'd liked it - at least somewhat. This pleased Mark a little. It was a good sign.

Brandi sat quietly on the couch, staring at the floor. She might have been crying for all he knew. The kid was strong, stronger than Mark would have given a girl so young. Too bad for her. It would be just more fun for him to totally break her spirit. And he would... he would.

In the meantime, Brianna was spent. "Julie, get your ass over here," he snapped. The older girl got up and stood beside him, looking all meek and submissive and fearful.

"You and Shannon take her upstairs and get her cleaned up. Go!"

Julie helped her sister down, and together she and Shannon led her upstairs. Brandi seemed to come to life then, acutely aware that it was her turn.

As Mark reached for her, she squirmed away. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. Her eyes were so wide, they practically disappeared under her bangs.

Grabbing her shoulders, Mark lifted her and practically slammed her onto the table. She cried out in pain and continued to kick and thrash. One foot got Mark in the chin, nearly knocking him over.

Mark's temper flared. Screaming "Bitch!" at the top of his lungs, he grabbed the little girl by the throat and started to choke her. She kicked harder for a second, then her face started to turn red. Mark wanted to kill her, and he couldn't stop.

Fortunately for both him and Brandi, the others - ALL of them - pulled him off. Brandi started wheezing and kicking, but seemed to be unhurt - not that Mark could tell. He was still seeing red.

"Let me fucking go! That little cunt's gonna die! She's gotta fucking learn dammit!" "Hey, chill!" Jake snapped. "You kill her and you're fucked, man!"

That calmed Mark a little. He was right. How would he explain Brandi's death? The big risk was her mother. Mark knew he'd have to do something there. He'd talk to Max about it.

"Chill man," Jake told him. "We'll fix her good." He let go of Mark and turned to Brandi, who was sobbing but no longer resisting. He watched for a bit as Jake stroke the girl's hair with one hand and removed her panties with the other, then pinned her legs down in preparation for the thrust. Brandi shut her eyes, and then....

Relaxing in the tub, Brianna became more awake. She also began to realize that this was not over, that what was happening now was going to be a regular part of her life. This was helped by Shannon talking to her.

Shannon had locked Julie out of the bathroom and it was just the two of them. As her hand gently washed the inside of Brianna's sore vagina, the younger girl squirmed pleasurably.

"This is going to happen until you grow up," Shannon told her. "I know because Mark does it to me and Julie. We're dirty girls, you and me and Julie and Brandi, and we all need this to happen to us. Do you understand?"

Brianna nodded. She felt dirty because part of her had liked this. She understood. "Uh-huh."

"Now everytime a stranger wants to take you somewhere, you'll go, right?" Shannon asked.

Brianna nodded. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. And you'll always dress the way Mark wants you to."

"I will," Brianna promised.

Part of Shannon couldn't believe she was doing this. But it turned her on so much, she couldn't stop. Her mood was so high she desperately needed a cock in her and now!

Unfortunately, Brianna still had to be tended to, and Shannon was afraid of pissing Mark off. He was so short tempered lately, he might kill her and cut her fun short if she wasn't careful.

She helped the girl out of the tub and dried her off, and left her to dress. Stepping out into the hall, she saw no sign of Julie. Not that it mattered.

She took Brianna into her bedroom and the two of them lay down. Brianna drifted off almost immediately, but Shannon just lay there, fingering herself to a cum, imagining all those guys in the basement doing her.

Julie didn't wait long outside the bathroom door, but crept back to the basement. Watching her sister be gang raped had turned her on - which only made her feel worse. Now she felt she deserved to be raped, that she actually needed it.

Though she was still afraid of Mark, Julie felt a bond toward him. She would do anything he wanted. She felt compelled to. She found herself liking being used. As bad as it was, it made her feel... special. That Mark and other men would choose her to rape, to use, made her feel like somebody, and not just a piece of meat, like she should have.

In fact, Julie had been harboring a fantasy lately. She was kidnapped by a man or men, who kept her as their personal rape slave. She was treated decently, but was raped as her master wished, using her like a good slave. She was never allowed to see her family or friends again. The idea excited her.

As she stepped into the basement Mark spotted her and motioned her over. It wasn't possible to see Brandi - the men were surrounding her, but her muffled screams were clearly heard.

Mark sat down and pulled Julie into his lap. One hand slipped around her waist and down into her shorts. Julie squirmed a little as Mark's finger inserted itself into her, stroking at her clit.

"You want to be next?" he asked her. She barely nodded, then said "No."

Mark leaned her back, totally in control, and plunged his finger in deeper. Julie felt her orgasm start to build. "Brandi's giving us a lot of trouble," Mark told her. "So my friends here are going to take her away for a few days. She won't be the same when she comes back."

"But... my moooom... .," Julie moaned.

"We'll take care of her," Mark chuckled in her ear. "She's going away for a few days too. You and Brianna are going to stay here and play with me. Got that?"

Julie didn't answer, because at that moment, her orgasm washed over her. Right then she decided she wanted to be taken away, too.

It was several minutes later when she came around enough to realize the men were done with Brandi and staring at her. Before she could even could even comprehend what was happening she was yanked off of Mark's lap by one of the other men, her hands twisted behind her back. Her heart started to pound as her hands were tied and a gag was pulled between her teeth. Then she was turned to face her sister.

Brandi was unconscious, curled up into a ball with her hands still bound behind her. She was completely naked, the tattered scraps of her clothes laying behind her. Her gag hung around her neck, a sure sign she'd been made to blow every man.

"Oh, and Julie, you'll be going with my friends, too," Mark told her. "Just to be sure Brandi learns to get it right."

Julie was hauled away and thrown onto the couch. One of the men bound her ankles together with some rope and then Mark pressed a chloroform cloth to her face. A moment later she was unconscious.

Once Julie was out, Jake inserted a syringe into her arm, drugging her further. They'd given the same thing to Brandi. It would make sure they stayed out for a while.

Mark helped dress Brianna in a pair of red shorts with a white short sleeve blouse and sneakers - identical to what Julie wore.

The next step would be getting the girl's mother, which wouldn't be hard. Mark and Jake had worked it out - Jake knew a guy who could break Brandi and her mother in well enough that they would go along with just about anything. Julie wouldn't be going anywhere; Mark just felt like teasing her. She, Brianna and Shannon he had other plans for.

Mark helped the others sneak Brandi out to a waiting van. Then he went back inside and carried Julie up to his room. It had been a long, and very productive, day. All was not done, of course. At four o'clock, Marianne Roberts left work. Marianne was an attractive twenty-six-year old who'd had her children early - along with her divorce. For Marianne, life was work and her kids. While she loved her children, she longed for the day she'd be free of them. At times, she almost wished they'd disappear.

This was one reason Marianne never dated since her divorce. The other was fear. She was a timid, shy woman who was easily taken advantage of. As a teen, she'd endured numerous date rapes and later in life had been attacked at least twice by either co-workers or complete strangers. Marianne never fought or resisted, preferring to let her attackers have their own way and finish.

She blamed herself, of course, because she was meek, but also very lovely. 5'0 tall and ninety pounds, she was small breasted, with long, slim legs and a fair, delicate face with freckles and green eyes. Her thick, wavy red hair fell to the middle of her back. Dressed today in a red long sleeve blouse with a short black skirt and white high heels, she was a knockout. As she approached her car, a van pulled up behind her. She heard the door slide open and tensed, just a moment of hesitation that was too much. A second later a cloth was pressed over her face, and she went out like a light.



He had waited much too long to carry this out.

Years. Too many years he'd planned and watched, even assisted the hated ones. Just a silent face amid many, robbed of his conscience, his emotions, his soul.

But the time had come for it to end. To make the suffering stop, if only for a small part, once and for all.

The cruelest irony was his choice of means. He would employ what they craved, and what they feared. And in the end, they would die - every single one of them. For her. The one who did not have to die.

He picked up the photo on the desk. A smiling little girl in a scout uniform. A girl who would never smile again at him. A girl who would never walk the green grass under the bright sun. A girl who had once been his, the light of his light, had now become the darkness.

And in becoming that, had taken him with her.

It was a typical morning in the Harris household. Kids clamoring to the table for breakfast, June Harris working quickly to feed them, Brad Harris reading the morning paper over coffee.

Shannon Harris, twelve, spooned cereal into her mouth and read the back of the paper her father was holding. Little April Harris, ten, the Harris's adopted daughter, nibbled at the eggs her mother lay before her.

Mark Harris, eighteen, ignored his breakfast and sat reading a stack of papers resting in his lap, occasionally fiddling with a calculator on the table next to his elbow. He smiled a little as his mother tousled his hair and encouraged him to eat.

On the surface, just a plain, ordinary American family, all together at breakfast on a warm July morning.

Brad Harris set down his paper and got up from the table, ready to go to work. He gave each of his daughter's a kiss on the cheek, then one for his wife. His day at the new video store he'd opened a few months ago had to begin sometime.

"You kids be good, and mind your mother," he said.

"We will," the girls chorused, and Mark just waved him off.

June leaned over to kiss him again. "When you get home tonight, I've got something... very special in mind."

"Mmm, can't wait," Brad laughed, kissing her deeply before he left.

To anybody peeking in a window, it would have all looked so normal. But it wasn't, as anybody close to the Harris family could tell you.

As soon as Brad was gone, the smile vanished from June's face, and the two girls stopped eating, also looking troubled. Little April even got up and ran over to her mother.

Mark stood up slowly, his expression calm and placid. But it didn't stay that way. Turning to his mother, he ordered her to sit down, and she did, trembling all over. Little April joined her, climbing into her lap.

In the past year, much had happened in the household - and to Mark. What had begun with raping his sister and her friends, using them as his personal slaves and prostitutes, had escalated to new and more violent heights. In short, Mark had become like a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off.

"Well now, I see I have your attention," Mark sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "You girls have been slacking off on me big time. Profits are down. And you know what that means."

June burst into tears. Mark - indeed, everything over the past year - had begun with her. Begun long ago, when she'd started molesting her son, eventually egging him into turning his agression against her. She'd always been in control then, however, at least to some extent.

Then last summer, Brad - who up until then had been a wimp of a husband, doing what she wanted, when she wanted, and liking it because he had to - and suddenly turned on her, taking control, going almost crazy. For a time, he'd been dangerous, violent. But in the past year he'd calmed, grown to actually love her, and she him. Early on, Brad had raped her, and allowed others to do it as well, but that had finally calmed to lovemaking, and it was something June had grown quite appreciative of.

Although, Brad still liked to have sex with her two daughters, and the girl's friends, the Roberts twins, their sister Julie, and their mother, Marianne. But June understood that for what it was - sex. Not lovemaking, except maybe with his two daughters (who had, over time, grown to look forward with their special sessions with Daddy) but just plain sex.

But if Brad had changed - going from wimp to power man, taking sex as he pleased yet returning kindness mostly - Mark had changed for the worse totally. He'd grown more demanding of his mother and sister and their friends, ordering them around, using them as slaves, partly with his father's consent. Partly, in that, Brad didn't know the entire story. If he did, he might well have killed Mark.

Mark leaned over the table then. "You have a problem, mother?" he asked, his voice as cold as steel.

"Don't hurt her Mark," Shannon pleaded. In the past year June had renewed her love for her child; before that, Shannon had just been another sex slave in waiting. Now they were mother and daughter, loving, and allied.

Mark whirled on his sister, who shrank into her chair. "Please don't hurt her."

Mark grinned. Hurt them - he loved that. Physically, Mark never laid a hand on his mother or sisters, or anyone else; he didn't want to risk bruises, or letting his father discover what he was doing. No, the hurt was something else now. It was rape, like they'd all experienced the past year, but more violent and painful than ever. Much worse, thanks to a drug he'd obtained that made sex VERY painful for a short time (he'd heard of a permanent one, but hadn't been able to get it.)

For June, it also brought a new definition. While she normally engaged in sex with her daughters - and other girls - it was also gentle and loving, and she didn't mind watching Brad do it, either. But watching them be raped - which had for so long turned her on - was totally painful and repulsive to her now, given how she loved them these days. It was one thing to know it was happening, it was another to see it. And this was how Mark most often hurt her.

"She's been slacking, sis. You all have. You've all gone and gotten wimpy on me, too. It's like you dont' like it anymore."

"They're tired, Mark," June pleaded.

"I don't give a FLYING FUCK!" Mark shouted. Little April shrieked and buried her face in her mother's breast.

June wrapped her arms around April protectively. She couldn't fight her son, but some part of her was determined to protect her youngest. She was the one Mark abused the most, knowing how much his mother cared about her.

"April, don't you have day camp or something?" Mark asked. April nodded. "Then get off her lap and get going."

April slowly got down, stopping long enough to hug and kiss her mother. Then she turned and tried to bolt past her brother, who caught her around the waist and scooped her up.

"Hey, what about me?" he asked softly. "No kiss?"

Grimacing, April leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. June turned her gaze as Mark grabbed the child's head and forced her to deepen the kiss before he set her down.

April backed away and ran over to Shannon next. Shannon gave her adopted sister a hug - they'd grown very close in the past year - and a quick kiss. Then April was out the door and gone.

Mark turned back to his mother and sister. "Well now, that just leaves you two. So which one shall I punish?"

Shannon looked at June, and June looked back, both of them miserable. Finally June spoke. "Me. It's my fault."

Shannon didn't argue. Mark's attention was on her mother, and before he could change his mind, she got up and ran. Mark made a grab for her but missed before she was out the door.

June breathed a small sigh of relief and began to cry again. She could only imagine what Mark had in store for her.

Brad Harris liked his little video store. It was nothing like his old job, which he rarely thought of. He had all the latest tapes here, and if you knew how to ask for them, some particularly nasty ones he and his son had made over the past year.

Last summer - after years of watching and taking abuse - Brad had finally snapped and become as bad as his son, raping little girl and even killing a few of them, and other people, on the way. But as the year had progressed, he'd lost interest in the force of it, still enjoying the control, but preferring to employ "gentler" means - though bondage was usually a part of it. Often, with some younger girls, he only made them do the least - usually oral sex - then used threats or bribes to assure their silence. If the risk was too great, he turned them over to Mark, who inevitably "got rid" of them - whether by death or selling, he rarely asked.

When it came to his own daughters, or the Roberts girls, he was very gentle; bondage only when they wanted, and he never made them do anything. Deep down, he knew this disgusted Mark - and he was also vary wary of his son lately. Mark was too prone to violence and though nobody said anything, Brad suspected he'd been doing more than he should with June and the girls.

With him in the store was Marianne Roberts, whose change from meek, submissive lesbian to meek, submissive sex slave nearly a year ago didn't show much. She worked as a clerk at the store, though he paid her a lot more than most clerks. Marianne was deeply afraid of him - she feared all men, in fact, a side effect of her "training." But at least she seemed to respect him. And he liked her, maybe even loved her a bit, but more as a child than as a woman.

Brad loved both, and often used the store as a means to obtain the objects of that love. Sometimes he just took Marianne or one of her or his kids into the back and had sex, when the mood struck him, but at other times he preferred the fresh young customers who came in.

He saw a small blonde head duck in the door, and instantly got hard - until he saw it was only Shannon. Dressed in short khaki denim shorts, a white short sleeve blouse and pink sneakers, she still looked cute, but she wasn't what he wanted.

"Hi daddy," she said brightly. "You busy?"

"Not right now. Julie's in back, she came in a little while ago. And I got somebody else waiting back there. Want to mind the counter for me?"

"Sure, okay," Shannon shrugged.

Brad patted his daughter's head, and stepped into the back. Beyond a room full of tapes lay a smaller room, with TV, some bean bag chairs and a couch.

Laying bound and gagged on the couch in back was a pretty girl with thick red hair that fell to her waist and big green eyes. She had a freckled face and was cute as a button, about six years old. She wore short little denim shorts and cream yellow t-shirt, and white tennis sneakers.

Her name was Meghan, and Brad had lured her back here this morning after she'd come to drop off some tapes. Once she had her back to him it was a simple matter to grab and restrain the child.

She'd been near hysterics until Julie had come in a little while ago and calmed her. Sweet Julie, in her purple satin t-shirt and matching short purple shorts, with white sneakers - Brad had tied her hands to show Meghan "it wasn't so bad."

"Well, how are you two getting along?" Brad asked.

"Meghan's scared. She thinks you'll hurt her."

"I'd never do that. I like you, Meghan. That's why you're all tied up. I didn't want you to leave."

Meghan whimpered and squirmed a bit.

"I'm going to teach you a little bit about sex, okay, Meghan? Now you just watch and learn, then it's your turn. If you do it right, I'll do something to make you feel good, then you can go home."

Brad unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring free. "Come on Julie, show Meghan how to suck cock."

"Watch, do just like I do," Julie told the girl, kneeling down and sliding Brad's cock partway into her mouth. She usually went deeper, but there was no way this small child was going to be able to repeat that. Brad moaned, calling Julie a good girl and complimenting her, then she backed off, not wanting him to cum. She stood up and smiled at little Meghan, who looked more curious than anything now.

"Ready to try?" Brad asked.

The little girl nodded. He went over and helped her up, moving her so she could kneel. She took it as far into her mouth as she dared, and after a few minutes of experimenting, began to imitate Julie. Brad moaned, enjoying her hot, wet, six-year old mouth, and stroked her hair, telling her how good she was.

It took a good ten minutes, but she got him off. He held her head as he came, telling her to swallow. She had a hard time of it, but managed to get it down.

When Meghan had finished the last of his cum, he gave her a firm hug and a kiss. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked.

Meghan shook her head. "Can I go home now?"

"Not yet. Now I'm going to make you feel really good." He laid her back down, pulling her shorts and panties off. She seemed nervous about this, but relaxed when he smiled at her fat, bald little pussy.

Marianne came in, leaving Shannon to tend the front counter, and motioned for Julie to lay down. Pulling down her daughter's shorts and panties, she balled up the panties and stuffed them in Julie's mouth, then put the gag into place as well. Brad did the same to Meghan, who gave him little resistance but clearly didn't like it.

Moving down, he bent his head and began to lick and suck her little pussy. The child jerked at the touch, then calmed, her breathing picking up. Brad pushed his mouth harder against her, sucking her little clit.

Meghan was really into it now. Brad was glad he'd gagged her; she was loud! Her moans and panting were really getting up there, and seconds later she came, her little pussy flooding with moistness. Brad licked her clean and reached up to remove the gag and panties. "Wow!"

"You liked that?" Brad asked.

Meghan nodded. "Do it again!"

"Not today. But if you come back tomorrow, I will. Just don't tell anybody about this, or I can't ever do it again."

"I won't tell!" Meghan promised excitedly. Brad untied her and she got dressed, except for her panties, which she let him keep. Then she skipped out the door, promising to be back tomorrow.

Marianne rose from Julie, who'd just finished coming. "Thanks for your help, you two," Brad told them, returning to the front where Shannon leaned on the counter, watching a video.

"You look bored. Why aren't you out, you know?" he asked, aware of customers a few rows away.

"I was waiting for you to get done, daddy," she said. Brad knew it was more like she didn't want to go; since tasting what just plain loving sex was like, she'd lost much of her taste for getting raped. But it made money a lot of the time, when it was set up, and Brad liked the money too much to encourage her to break the habit.

"Well, I'm done, so go on. We'll do something special later, okay?"

"Okay," Shannon sighed, and left.

Julie came out just after that. "Where's Shannon?"

"She went out. Maybe you can catch up to her."

Julie shook her head. "No thanks. I like to get it alone." She smiled. A year ago, rape was the worst thing in her life; now she lived for it.

"Well, then go on out and get some," Brad told her. "Unless you want me to arrange it..."

Julie nodded. "I want ten of them."

Brad cocked an eyebrow. "Ten?" She meant ten men.

Julie nodded. "And I want to stay away a while."

"How's a week?"

"Okay," Julie agreed.

Returning to the back, Bill picked up a phone and punched in a number. After arranging a kidnapping and gang rape for Julie, he returned.

"Go on down to the park. It's there," he told her.

Julie smiled and ran out the door.

Shannon made her way slowly down the sidewalk. Her life these days was so confused - sex with her father, who loved her; rape by her brother, who hated her. Her best friend, who had once been kind and sweet and terrified of rape, now loved it the way she had. Her mother, whom she'd learned had caused all this, would willingly die for her now, and Shannon for her.

She'd been avoiding rapes lately, not only because she hated them but out of fear she'd get pregnant. She hadn't yet had her period, but she had little doubt soon enough she'd be fertile - and if she got pregnant, she'd be in big trouble. Mark had made it clear if she did, she'd wind up dead. "Accidentally," of course.

Yet for all of it, Shannon was not entirely down on it. Yes, she hated the rapes, but couldn't escape the excitement they brought, or the way the feel of the ropes made her wet. She couldn't escape the joys of helplessness. It was a twisted, love-hate relationship with no end in sight.

As she turned the corner around the video store, she saw a van idling by the curb, the side door open. A man was sitting there, holding a puppy. Stupid as it was, Shannon approached, part of her very much hoping he'd grab her.

"He's cute," she said, smiling.

"She's cute," the man corrected. "Want to hold her?"

"Yeah." Shannon took the puppy and held it in her arms. The dog licked her chin and she giggled. "Is she yours?"

"Sort of. I'm giving her away. I have a whole litter in here, if you'd like to take a look."

Shannon knew that one TOO well. But she played dumb anyhow. "Yeah. I'd love a puppy."

"Back here," he told her, as she leaned in, his hand clamped over her mouth and she pulled inside. A second later the door shut, and Shannon knew it was about to begin again.

The bus stop for the bus that took April to day camp couldn't have been more isolated. It sat on a corner of a block filled with rows of homes long since abandoned or occupied by older people who rarely came out, and what little traffic there was didn't amount to ten cars a day.

April didn't like it, and she didn't like day camp. From almost the first time she'd come here, she'd been molested or raped at least a dozen times. One man even came around every Wednesday and picked her up, believing he was scaring her into not telling; he didn't know she was into this, more or less. Actually, she didn't like the rape - sex with her daddy was okay - but rape hurt. But she let them do it, because she was expected to.

Day camp was no better. She never actually attended it; one of the counselors always latched onto her when she arrived and took her into the woods, to an old cabin, where he spent the day raping her.

Oh well, she expected that today, too.

Dressed for camp, she wore very short red shorts, a white t-shirt and white tennis sneakers. It was the same camp the Roberts twins had gone to last year; now they went almost no place. Brianna went out a lot, but Brandi was skittish, and tended to stay home alot.

It wasn't long before a strange car pulled up. It was a big car, with dark tinted windows, too dark for her to see in. She expected the door to open any second, and resigned herself to go along.

The driver's window slid down, and an arm appeared. Something silvery flipped through the air and landed on the pavement behind her. Curious, April turned and bent to pick it up - it was a silver dollar.

At the same instant, she heard the door open, and a cloth pressed over her face. The cloth smelled, and it was a smells he remembered well. But memory was useless as darkness closed over her and she was pulled into the car. At a rundown garage on the far end of town, Jimmy Cault was preparing to go out and get little Julie Roberts. Jimmy had never fucked the little eleven-year old before, but he'd heard she was good, one of the best. Sure, it wasn't real rape, but Jimmy liked it anyway. Getting ten guys to help hadn't taken much; just the idea of young pussy was enough to draw them. As he was about to get in the car, the phone rang.

He briefly considered ignoring it, but it was insistent, and he got up to answer it. "Hello? Hey, yeah. I was just heading out. What do you mean, a change in plans? Okay, okay, chill. WHAT? Aw, come on!" He frowned, then grinned. "Well, in that case, I can make an exception. Sure will. The other guys'll be disappointed, but screw 'em. You got it." He set the phone down, shaking his head. A hundred grand. Yeah, that would make up for it.

Frowning, he sat back down and pulled a girlie magazine out of the desk under the phone, and leaned back to read. A hundred grand was nice. But he sure could have used some pussy. To bad he wouldn't get any today.

Marianne emerged from the back room to find the store empty, except for a few customers. There was a note on the counter for her.

"Marianne - Had to go out for something. Probably be gone most of the day. Keep an eye on things. Love, Brad."

She crumpled up the note and forced a smile. Brad was really nice to her, but she couldn't help but be afraid of him. He was, after all... a MAN. A year ago, she might not have thought that way, until the training.

She still had nightmares about it. Brainwashing, pain, the terror of watching one of her twins raped, of joining in and helping, of having her mind twisted so badly that she now lived in daily fear. Working here helped some - you had to deal with men on a regular basis - but not much.

She wondered where Brad had gone. It wasn't like him to leave so suddenly; and without explanation. Though maybe after this morning, he'd decided to go after that Meghan girl and get more of what she'd given him.

Marianne had liked watching him lick the girl, and secretly wanted to see him do her. She much preferred to watch Brad do other women and girls - even her own kids - than do it to her. Sex was just so... repulsive to her now.

Even her lesbian relationship with June Harris was on the rocks. She loved June deeply, but over the past year June had pretty much lost interest.

The door jangled, and Brianna came in, minus her twin. Brandi never left the house much these days, but Brianna was out all the time. And she rarely seemed to have trouble finding someone who wanted to have fun with her six-year old body.

Brianna looked totally out of place, yet cute enough today. A red, long sleeve pullover sweater with a white blouse underneath, a pleated, short plaid skirt, and white flats. She was out to get raped, Marianne knew, because rape was about all her daughter could understand her life was for.

"Hi mommy," she said sweetly.

"Hi honey. Why are you all dressed up?"

"You know why."

"Oh, yeah. Well why are you here? You should be out there."

"Oh, I just wanted to say hi."

"Well you did, now get lost," Marianne told her. Being snappy at Brianna - once a sweet, innocent child - hardly phased the girl.

"All right. Bye." And she skipped out, holding the door for a man on his way in. The man watched her go, then shut the door and locked it, turning the sign around. Marianne got a very bad feeling in that instant.

It got worse when he pulled the gun. "Okay, lady, I want two things, and money is just one of them."

Marianne moved to the register, opening the drawer. "Not yet. You didn't hear number two."

"W-What's that?" Marianne asked.

"You. Get in back."

Marianne held up her hands, as if that would somehow ward him off. "No, please - "

"I SAID GET YOUR ASS IN BACK!" the man demanded, shoving the gun in her face. Marianne backed away. The man climbed over the counter after her, grabbing her arm and pushing her into the back. He spotted the couch and the ropes and gag lying on it, left over from earlier.

"Well now, this makes things a fuck of a lot easier," he said. "Turn around and keep your mouth shut."

Marianne stood quietly, shaking all over, as he used one length of rope to bind her wrists together behind her. When that was done, he ordered her to her knees and stepped in front of her. Down came his pants, and out came his rock hard cock.

"Don't just sit there, bitch, make me happy," he ordered in a low voice.

Marianne leaned forward, sliding his cock into her mouth.

Thunder Park had been built back in the 1930s, a quiet, tree-lined park sporting a huge lake and acres of walking paths. Originally intended as a place for families, it had quickly fallen over the years into the hands of the seemier members of society, due in large part to a lack of police to patrol it.

Julie got off the bus at the park's entrance, ignoring the stare of a wino who leaned against the wrought iron fence, sipping booze from a bottle in a paper bag. Once or twice in the park wino's had raped or molested her; it was no pleasant, given their awful smell and unwashed bodies, but with the way her life was going, it was just something she accepted as part of things.

For Julie, there was no future - just the present. A year ago she'd thought differently, but over time she'd come to realize her predicament, and there was no way out of it. So rather than fight, she'd given in. She allowed the abuse to happen, aggravated and asked for it, in fact, because it had become her life. Not much of a life, but a life at any rate.

The park was fairly empty today; most people avoided it even by day, given that one could expect to be mugged or worse at any given time. That made it an ideal place for her to wander in search of a rapist - the trouble was, most rapists were pretty suspicious of such a young girl roaming the park, given it's reputation, and usually avoided her, expecting to have cops show up the minute they grabbed her.

That wouldn't be the case today, of course; thanks to Brad's having arranged this one. It wasn't as much fun as having it spontaneously happen, but it was something, at least.

Wandering deeper into the park, she saw less and less of anyone around, even winos. A squirrel scampered across her path, then disappeared into the bushes.

For the first time, she noticed the oppressive silence. The woods, normally teeming with animal noises, had gone silent. She suddenly felt incredibly alone... and incredibly scared.

Something crunched off to her right. She turned to look, but saw nothing. She shivered a little as a chill crept up her spine. She felt like she was being watched, and it was a sinister feeling, something that went way past any of the excitement she'd been feeling.

She continued on, anyway, the feeling staying with her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement several times, but when she stopped to look, it was gone. Now her anticipation of being picked up and rape fled, and she just wanted to get clear of the park. There was something in those woods, something evil, and it was after her.

She ran. Whatever was in the woods moved with her, just a blurry shadow in the dim shade, no longer trying to keep silent. Julie ran as fast and hard as she could, determined to keep ahead of it. Rounding a bend in the path, she spotted the park's other entrance up ahead. If she could just make it.

She never saw him step out until it was too late.

Stumbling, she tried to halt, but he was right there, moving out of the trees like a shadow. A man, she thought, in a long coat. Only this was no man. Where his head should have been was a skull, a bare, grinning skull - with two black, empty eye sockets.

Even as she opened her mouth to scream he had her, grabbing her shoulder and pressing a chloroform soaked cloth over her face.

For the third time that morning, the phone rang and Jimmy Cault picked it up. "Yeah, they weren't too happy, but they'll have to like it," Jimmy said, answering the question he was asked. "Oh! Hey, yeah! Another hundred grand? Shit, I don't even need that to go do that little cunt! Yeah, I'll get a bunch of us and go over right now! Sure thing, Mr. H!"

He hung up the phone and let out a whoop of triumph. Maybe he wouldn't get Julie, but he was going to get little Brandi!

The Roberts household was quiet, the silence broken only the the occasionally click and whir of the refrigerator and the hum of the air conditioner.

Little Brandi Roberts sat on the couch, a teddy bear tucked under one arm. The TV was on in front of her, the volume turned down. She stared at it without seeing, deeply lost in her own thoughts, memories of the awful training she'd gone through only a year before. Memories that haunted her every day and threatened to drive the small girl out of her mind.

Brandi wore the same outfit her sister had - the twins always dressed alike. But while Brianna actively sought to get raped, Brandi chose to hide at home and avoid it when possible.

The ringing of the doorbell brought her back to reality. Brandi didn't want to answer it, but the choice wasn't hers. If it was somebody Mark had sent to hurt her, she had to let them in. Otherwise, Mark himself would see to it she suffered for not doing as he wanted.

Four men stood on the front porch, all young men, not much older than Mark. "Hi, what's your name?" one asked.

"Brandi," Brandi answered, wanting to slam the door but was too afraid Mark had sent them.

"You all alone, babe?"

Brandi nodded.

Suddenly he had her, one hand over her mouth, and he was lifting her with his other arm. The men stepped in and shut the door, locking it behind them, as Brandi squirmed in the man's grasp.

"See? I told you she's home by herself a lot. So we got lots of time," one man said.

They carried her up to the bedroom she shared with Brianna and pushed her face down on the bed. First her hands were bound, then her panties ripped off and stuffed in her mouth, then she was gagged more appropriately. Flipping the girl over, one man straddled her squirming body, then slapped her face hard, making her cry harder and lay still.

"She's got too much clothes on for such a hot day," he said, then promptly ripped her sweater and blouse open, and ripped her skirt off. He plunged into the helpless girl, each stroke burning as he fucked her dry cunt. Lips and tongues caressed her bare nipples and soft little neck as the other three rapists went to work joining in.

One after another they took turns on her, until their cum was leaking out of her abused pussy. Then they rose, one after the other, and without even glancing back, turned and left the house, leaving the child bound and sobbing on the bed. As if leaving her to some other fate.

Little April slowly came awake. At first she felt groggy, but that soon passed; still, she couldn't open her eyes. She realized quickly she'd been blindfolded, and bound and gagged as well. Momentarily panicked, she soon relaxed, having learned from experience there was nothing to be done about it.

A voice whispered in her ear. Soft. Hollow. Emotionless. It made her shudder. "Well now, are we awake?"

April nodded slowly.

"Well, I suppose that's good. Maybe not. Either way, it no longer matters. What matters is that I am here and you are here. And it is time for you pain to end."

April stiffened. She didn't like the sound of that.

"I promise, it won't hurt. Just a little prick is all. You were the most innocent of them all. You lost the most. I can sympathize with that. Now just lie still. This will only hurt a second. Then you'll go to sleep, and never wake up again."

April whimpered and began to struggle. She felt something stick her in the thigh, something sharp. In seconds, she became very sleepy, the world around her fading out. A few seconds after that she went still, drifting off into a slumber from which she'd never awaken.

Death leaned over the child, and was satisfied. The first was done. Her suffering was over. The Killing Time had begun.

Brandi squirmed on the bed, unable to get free of the ropes. The footsteps approached her door, then stopped. Slowly the knob turned. Brandi watched hopefully, praying it was someone come to rescue her. Then she screamed as Death swept into the room.

He moved swiftly over to the child, climbing on top of her, straddling her small form and pinning her down. Without a word, he pulled the pillow out from under her head, and only then did he speak. Four words in a voice that echoed with a hollow, emotionless chill.

"Time to die, Brandi."

Then he pressed the pillow over her face.

Brandi squirmed under the hot, suffocating blackness of the pillow, gradually losing awareness of Death on her, of the pillow itself, then of her own self. Several minutes after the girl stopped squirming, Death lifted the pillow. He reached out to touch her neck, then drew his hand away from her lifeless body.

Brianna could hardly wait to meet her "secret" pal. She knew it was a man - he'd told her so. She'd met him on the computer, and he'd told her things, lots of things, that he wanted to do if he met her. Things she liked, like tying her up and raping her. She'd played innocent, of course, which wasn't hard, and he'd finally arranged for her to meet him at the mall parking lot. Brianna giggled, thinking of how much she knew that he didn't know she knew.

One thing that sounded exciting was the snuff film he said they'd make. Brianna had NO idea what it was, but he assured her it was more fun than the rest of the stuff, and that sounded pretty good to her young, twisted mind.

The instructions he'd given Brianna were simple - get in the car and put the blindfold on. She found the car easily - he'd given her the license plate - and climbed in front. The blindfold was on the seat, and she tied it over her eyes and sat back to wait.

It wasn't long before she heard the driver's door open. She turned to him, and his hand pressed over her mouth, holding a smelly cloth to her face. It wasn't more than a few seconds before she passed out.

Julie slowly came to. Her first impression was of cool darkness, and the smell of must. Rapidly she gained other understandings, like the fact that her body was bound, and she was tightly gagged.

As her vision cleared, she could make out shapes: a bicycle tire, boxes, a washing machine. She was laying on a cold, hard floor that gave her chills.

Then she realized where she was. Home. In her own basement. And then a skull popped into view over her. She screamed, but with the gag, it was pathetic, almost mute. Death leaned over her, and spoke, his smile never changing, jaw never moving.

"Once, Julie Roberts, you were a good child. Sweet, kind, innocent. Once I might have left you be. But you have changed. You have become the worst of the lot. You seek what the others hate. You crave the taste of violence. You are no longer pure, Julie Roberts, and no longer fit to be a part of this earth."

Julie trembled. She didn't like the sound of those last words.

Death stood up. "I have thought long and hard on this, Julie Roberts. You are still a child in body, but no longer in mind, not entirely unlike your sisters. Yet they, in some sense, remained children, suffering children. Their ends were ones of relative peace. Yours will not be."

He turned and stared down at her. "I sentence you to die by hanging, Julie Roberts."

Julie screamed and struggled frantically, but she was like a fly in a web and Death was the spider. Grabbing her by the throat, he yanked her to her feet and dragged her to a nearby chair, above which a rope had been suspended. Brianna wasn't sure how long she'd been in the back seat of the car. Bound, gagged and blindfolded, she could do nothing but lie there and whimper or listen. And there wasn't much to hear except the hum of the motor and the hiss of the air conditioner.

The car had stopped only a little while ago, and the air in the car had quickly grown hot. She'd heard the trunk open and close, then there had been only silence.

Her "secret" man hadn't spoken to her once yet. He hadn't even touched her. In her short time of life, she'd never quite been through anything like this. And it scared her.

The rear door opened. A pair of hands slid under her and lifted her. She was being carried now, through a door. All was quiet... yet she smelled a familiar smell. She just couldn't place it.

He continued to carry her. Up a flight of steps. Through another door. Then he was laying her down on something soft. A bed.

The blindfold came off.

Brianna looked around her and gasped. She was in her own room! Her sister lay on the opposite bed, a pillow over her face. She was almost naked, and not moving at all.

"Look at me," a voice, hollow, cold, said to her. "Look."

Brianna turned her head and let out a muffled scream at the sight of the skeletal face. A gloved hand clamped down over her mouth, further silencing her.

"Be quiet," he told her flatly, his other hand moving down under her skirt, yanking her panties down. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a silencer-equippmed pistol.

"I'm going to shoot you... right here," Death cooed, pushing the gun up inside Brianna's little cunt. The girl furiously shook her head. She didn't want to be shot there!

He continued to probe her with the gun, raping her with it now. Scared as she was, she got excited. Her little mind was going around the bend with the sensations it was giving her.

"No, you're much too little to die this way," he told her. "I have a better idea." He pulled the gun out and sat it on the bed next to her.

Suddenly his hands were at her throat, squeezing. Brianna struggled, but given her small size, she was no match for him. In only a matter of minutes she went still.

It was nearly three by the time Marianne got loose. After raping her, the robber had cleaned out the register. Stumbling out to the counter, she slammed the drawer closed and fought back a sob.

The robber had locked the door and put up the closed sign, and Marianne wasn't about to put it back. She wanted to go home now, take a shower, and forget about today.

The back door opened and shut. "Brad?" she asked fearfully, thinking the robber had come back.

"Yeah, it's me," Brad called.

"Oh Brad, we were robbed!" Marianne shouted, dashing into the back. She expected to see Brad standing there, looking concerned, but he wasn't. The room was empty.

"Brad?"

A viselike hand clamped over her mouth, and she felt the cold steel tip of a barrel press against her temple.

A moment later, the side of her head exploded.

June had long since stopped crying. She'd spent the entire day here, locked in her bedroom closet, bound and gagged. Mark had not raped her. He had not hurt her. He had done the worst thing he could do.

He'd let her own mind torture her.

Hours and hours of sitting here, alone, in the darkness. Wondering what he'd do... or what he might be doing.

The door opened. Mark stood over her, grinning from ear to ear. "All right mother, it's time..."

In the silence of midafternoon heat, before the rush hour and the press of the rat race began, Death pulled his car up to the curb and waited, watching through the tinted glass the Harris house.

The street was quiet, but it had always been that way. Today, however, it seemed even more appropriate, standing against a background of gathering clouds heralding the arrival of a summer storm. How fitting. He could have ended it here, and now. But that wasn't his way. It would not do. The horror of what he had done, the total impact of it, would be wasted. No, he would bide his time. He watched the garage door open, watched Mark's car back out. On the seat beside him, a small box began to beep. For the moment, he ignored it, watching Mark turn into the street and drive past him without a second glance. Starting the engine, he pulled up into the garage and stepped out of the car. He had work to do. The lid of the trunk popped open. Mark reached in and lifted his mother out, setting her on her feet. June looked around as Mark stepped behind her and began untying her hands. They were someplace out in the country, on a pothole filled paved road surrounded on all sides by fields and a few trees.

Finishing her hands, Mark untied her ankles and removed her gag. "There now, does that feel better?" he asked in a mocking voice.

"What are we doing out here, Mark?" June asked, her voice shaking from exhaustion and fear.

"I thought you could use some exercise," Mark told her, shutting the trunk lid. "A nice walk should help."

June started. "A what? You want me to walk back? We must be fifty miles from town!"

"Ten would be more like it," Mark told her. "Boy, sure is hot today. I'd sure hate to be walking out in this."

June looked up at the sun, already feeling thirsty. "Mark, you can't! I'll never make it."

"Oh, cut the crap. You can always hitch. Besides, what's the worst that can happen? A bad sunburn? Maybe you'll get a little thirsty. Just consider it an object lesson."

"Mark..."

Mark leaned against the trunk and folded his arms. "What? This isn't the freakin' desert. There's lots of shade."

"Your father won't like this."

"Fuck him," Mark snapped. His eyes dropped to his mother's legs, and he rubbed his chin.

June didn't like the look on his face. She took a step back. "Mark, what?"

"Just wondering... how well you'd walk with only one kneecap."

June swallowed hard. "You wouldn't."

"Oh wouldn't I?" Mark asked, pulling his gun out of his belt. "Tell you what. If you can outrun this bullet, just maybe you won't get shot."

"Mark, don't - "

"I'll count to three. One, two - "

"Mark!"

"Three!"

June took off. There was no place to run, nowhere to hide. But she ran anyway, expecting to feel a bullet come boring into the back of her leg any second. But all she heard was Mark's laughter.

She stopped and turned around. Mark was heading back to the car now. He was leaving her out here.

"Mark, you can't leave me!" June shouted.

"Oh, I can't huh? Well, just watch me!" he laughed.

It was almost over. Just a few more loose ends to tie up, and he'd be done. The rest he'd earned through his cooperation and silence would finally be achieved.

For her.

"Please, Mark, you can't leave me out here!" June pleaded. Then, more rationally, "Your father - I'll tell him."

"No you won't," Mark laughed. "Because he isn't going to be around to tell it to. See, by the time you get back... well, he won't be alive anymore."

June gaped in shock. "You're not..."

"Yes I am," Mark laughed, climbing into the car. "Have a good walk, MOTHER."

He started the engine and pulled out, his mother running after him. It was almost comical, this slight, lovely woman who'd made him this way, was now running after him, totally out of control. He was still laughing when the car appeared behind her.

It was a big black Caddy, with tinted windows. Fancy car - and it was moving straight at his mother. As if the driver didn't see her - or wanted to run her over.

Without even thinking, Mark hit the brakes. The other car kept coming. He lept out and yelled to his mother to get out of the way. Too late. June had only just started to turn when the car hit. She flew through the air, crashing into the pavement right behind Mark's car, her body lying twisted, broken and bloody at his feet. The other car stopped as well, the driver's door swinging open... and Death stepped into view. Mark froze, staring at the hideous skull atop the shoulders, at the rictus grin and the empty, dead eye sockets. It was Death, like in every story he'd ever heard. Tearing his eyes from the sight of it, Mark lept into the car and took off, flooring the gas. The other driver slowed to swerve around June's body and put a little distance between them.

Mark drove like a madman, ignoring stop signs and squealing around corners in his rush to get away. It was several miles later when he finally looked up in the mirror, half expecting to see the other car closing fast, Death at the wheel. But it was gone. He slowed, not wanting to risk attracting a cop, even out here. He had to chill out and think. This was not part of his plan!

Think, think, think. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Okay. First thing was first. He had to get his father out of the way first, like he'd planned. Then come back and get his mother's body and hide it before somebody got suspiscious. Then he'd run, and hide, where the cops and nobody else would ever find him.

"WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!" he shouted, slamming on the brakes so hard the car skidded several feet. "Just wait a damn minute!

This was Death following him! Death! Who could go anywhere, no matter what! Where did he think he could run to? Where could he hide?

"Hold on, Mark, get it together," he cautioned. "Think man, think! If that guy is really Death, he wouldn't need a car, would he? No way! He wouldn't! No way, he's got to be somebody else. He's got to be flesh and blood, man. Just somebody in a mask... but those eyes..." He shook his head. "No way. Just a mask. Whoever it is, he's as real as I am. And that means he can die, right?"

Suddenly he realized how silly he'd look, sitting here and talking to himself, if somebody came along. Worse than that, he was beginning to doubt his own sanity. Taking his foot off the brake, he hit the gas and eased back up to speed.

Okay, first thing was first. He'd take care of the original plan, then handle this. Whoever it was in that mask, he wasn't going to win. If he wanted to play Death, he was going to get a nice, close look at it for real.

He glanced at the dashboard clock. Almost five. His father would be home soon. Mark wanted to get there and be waiting. If Marianne or one of the girls got in the way, it would serve to show them who was in charge.

That brought him back to the here and now. Whoever had hit his mother had done it intentionally; and then they'd come after him! But who? He could think of probably a thousand nameless faces that would want him dead. Parents, uncles, friends, just about anybody connected to one of his numerous victims. Thanks to the mask, he didn't know.

Yeah, but... how did they know he'd be out here? He sure hadn't told anybody, and he hadn't seen anybody following him, either. In fact, this was the first time he'd come out this way in a while! It didn't make sense.

His first thought was to get home. One thing at a time, right? Just handle it one thing at a time.

It was just past five when he pulled up to the house. The front door was locked - a good sign. At least his father wasn't home yet. That would give Mark time to plan. He shoved the door open, and stopped dead at the sight before him. Arrayed throughout the living room were the girls and Marianne. They all were just sitting there, but there was something very, very wrong. Because they were all very, very dead. The stench of death had begun to fill the house already. Mark put a hand over his mouth, feeling sick. Whoever had done this had also killed his mother. It had to be. He suddenly realized that one other person might just do it. Somebody else who might have a reason. His father. It made sense. His father wasn't stable to begin with - and now he'd really lost it. And for all Mark knew, he was already here, waiting.

He turned and bolted, racing out to the car. He had to get away, FAR away, from here. Just as he jumped in, his car phone rang. Quickly he snatched it up.

"Yeah?"

"Mark..."

Mark froze. "Who is this?"

"Mark..."

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Mark... help me..."

Instantly he recognized the voice. Max. Master of drugs, Mark's private agent when it came to selling his snuff and porn flicks.

"Max? What the?"

"You... have to help me... been shot..."

"Who? By who?"

"You have to help me... I can help you... stop him..."

"Max, where the fuck are you?"

"The docks... near the abandoned pier... Warehouse 23..." The phone went dead, the line buzzing in Mark's hand. He slammed the phone down and roared off, heading toward the docks.

Even by day, the docks were a dangerous place, gloomy and filthy, so dangerous even the homeless and the cops stayed away. A rat scurried away as Mark climbed out of the car, his gun drawn.

A figure stepped out of the shadows of a nearby warehouse and hurried toward him. The move was so unexpected, Mark almost shot him, until he saw it was Jimmy Cault. "Mark, man, what are you doing here? Where's your father?"

Mark held up his hand. "He's lost it, Jimmy. He killed them all. Everybody."

"Yeah, I know. First he tells me to go pick up Julie and give her what for, then he says no, don't go, then he calls me again and tells me to go do her brat sister and get lost. Paid me a hundred grand each to do it. I was supposed to meet him here to collect. Weird, man, he never works like that."

Mark scowled. "Never mind that. You armed?"

"Yeah." Jimmy held up the small pistol he'd used to kill Julie. "You think he really killed them?"

"Yeah, my mom too, and now he wants me. I think he got Max here and shot him, too. Only he managed to warn me."

"Shit!" Jimmy swore. "I don't - "

Jimmy suddenly stumbled, a bright red patch blossoming on his chest. For a moment he looked down at it, then collapsed.

Mark dove for cover, unsure of just where the shot had come from. Silenced, no doubt; he hadn't even heard it.

"Looking for me, Mark?" his father called, his voice echoing off of the empty buildings.

Mark crouched low, looking around. "Inside, Mark. Come and get me... if you can."

Keeping low, Mark ran for the door. He was no cop and no soldier, but he'd seen enough TV to get the idea of what to do. The door was open just enough for him to slip inside. Quickly he moved to the shadows, keeping out of sight.

"Oh come on, Mark, you can do better than that," his father taunted. "Poor Max is waiting for you to come help him. But I guess you don't care about that."

"Fuck you!" Mark shouted, dodging out of the shadows and scruncing down behind an old wooden crate. "It's your ass I want! You're fucking nuts!"

"That I am, Mark. And you know why? You made me that way."

Mark looked around, listening. His father's voice echoed, but seemed to come from directly ahead. Keeping to cover, he moved forward, while his father taunted him.

At last he came up to a partially open door, seperating the warhouse into two halves. His father sounded to be just on the other side. It sounded like Max was there too, moaning or something. He couldn't make out the sound; it was muffled.

Spotting movement on the other side, he swung around and opened fire.

One, two, three shots ripped into his father's body as he stood helpless against them. It wasn't until he doubled over against the I-beam he was standing against that Mark realized his father couldn't have been speaking.

Because he was gagged. Somebody had tied him to the I-beam and gagged him. And now, he was dead.

"Nice shooting, Mark," his father's voice said from off to his left. He whirled around and came face to face with Death.

Mark let out a gasp and raised his gun. Death just stood there calmly, then raised one hand, which held a pistol in it, and pulled the mask off his face.

Dressed in a black suit and sunglasses, offset only by his pale white face and hair, Max looked like death himself. He stared at Mark, then held up one hand, showing him a small box he held.

"Like it? It's a neat little toy I picked up. Changes one's voice quite nicely, once you set the pitch and all." He tossed it to the floor at Mark's feet. "It sure fooled Jimmy."

Mark looked from Max to his father. "What?"

"Jimmy carried out his orders perfectly. Just a test, to make sure this worked. He thought I was your father... and so did you."

"It took time, of course, and money, which you so generously provided. All those years I worked with you, soiling my hands to gain precious insight into you. At first, I didn't even know you were the one I sought. But once I found out... it was just a matter of time from there. I began to observe you, all of you. Wiretaps, bugs, hidden microphones. I knew everything that went on. And when the time was right, I began. Your father came first."

Max sighed, folding his hands. He didn't seem to care that Mark was aiming a gun at him. "Brad, it's Max. Look, I think something is up with Mark. Can you meet me down at Warehouse 23 on the docks? It's the only safe place. Thanks." He shrugged. "And he came. Right to me."

"I don't get this shit, Max. What the fuck are you doing?"

"Setting right what went wrong, Mark. Wiping out the damage you've spent the last year creating."

"You killed them all?"

"All but Shannon. My guess would be she lucked out, Mark. A shame, too, I wanted to get her and finish this totally. But I don't think she'll live long enough now for it to matter. At least, not without a family to shelter and support her any longer. She'll probably wind up prostituting herself and dying of some drug overdose someplace. Because of you."

"My mother! How'd you know I'd be out there, Max?"

"Easy. A simple tracking device. I didn't want to lose sight of you, Mark."

"Guess you lucked out. I'm just curious, Max. Why? Money? Power? Somebody hire you, maybe?"

"You want an answer, Mark... but you won't get it. Not until just before you die. Slowly. Very slowly."

"Like hell I will!" Mark shouted, opening fire. Three bullets caught Max in the chest, knocking him flat. He hit the floor hard, his gun clattering away across the cement.

Mark kept squeezing the trigger, but he was out of bullets. Shaking, he slowly lowered the gun. Then started to laugh.

He'd killed his father, like he'd planned - and one upped Max, who was out to kill him! Man, this was too much. Letting out a whoop of triumph, he turned and started through the door.

Something shuffled behind him, and a powerful hand wrapped around his throat. Suddenly he was being jerked back, a thick, foul smelling cloth was jammed over his face.

His vision swam as he grappled with his attacker. Just before he went under he heard Max say, "Bullet proof vest, Mark..."

Mark shook his head to clear it. He was sitting up, he could tell that much. And strapped so tightly into that position he could only move his head. Also, much to his chagrin, he was... naked.

A rat scurried across his line of vision, then darted away as Max appeared from the shadows. "Well, finally awake? Good. You're dead weight when you're out of it."

"What the fuck is this?" Mark asked, wincing a little at the heavy leather straps holding him in the chair.

"The end, Mark. Welcome to the Chair. You've been charged, tried and convicted by a jury of One. Me. And as judge, I sentence you to death."

Despite his predicament, Mark wasn't afraid. Not yet, anyway. "Bullshit. If I disappear, you're going to have a lot of explaining to do, Max. Sooner or later the cops'll find out."

"Oh, I know that, Mark," Max sighed. "In fact, I've arranged for them to do just that. In the meantime, I'd like you to see something."

Reaching inside his jacket, he removed his wallet, and from that, a snapshot.

Max held the picture in front of Mark's face. It was a picture of a girl in a scout uniform, a little girl of about seven. "Recognize her, Mark?"

Mark nodded. The first girl he'd ever snuffed on film. He remembered doing it.

"She was my daughter, Mark. Michelle. Missy, she liked to be called. Just seven years old. One day, she went out to sell cookies... and never came home. I remember when they found her body. After the rats had gotten to it. I lost it then, Mark. Lost it." He sighed. "It took me a long time to find out what happened to her. I lost my wife over it, Mark. She couldn't take it. Put a gun in her mouth and blew her brains out." He hefted his pistol. "This gun. I thought it would only be fitting to use it now." He smiled, the first smile Mark had ever seen on his face. It was NOT pleasant to see.

"So do it then," Mark hissed. "You got me, do it!"

"Can't," Max stated. "No bullets."

Mark laughed. "Ha! So what are you going to do now, huh? Huh?"

"Oh, something very special, I've been saving just for you, Mark. Tell me, have you ever seen the movie 'The Serpent and the Rainbow'?"

"Why - yeah, I saw it," Mark answered, feeling a LOT less cocky than he had a second ago. "W-Why?"

"Remember the scene when they have the doctor strapped down in the chair, and the witch doctor wants him to scream?"

Mark swallowed hard. "Yeah."

Max turned to the table behind him and picked something up. Turning around, Mark could see he now held a mallet and a long, thick iron spike.

"I want to hear you scream, Mark."

Mark had scene the movie, and he sure didn't have to repeat any of the lines. He was already screaming. Max grinned, looking not unlike death. He pressed the tip of the spike against Mark's left nut.

"Not good enough, Mr. Harris," he said, mimicking the man in the film.

And brought the mallet down.


EPILOGUE

The gates to Brighton Heights cemetery normally stood closed at midnight, but Max paid them no heed, driving his car straight through them. Even in the darkness, he had no trouble finding the grave.

He shut the car off and climbed out, climbing the low hill to the grave. By the light of the full moon he knelt and read the stone in front of him.

MICHELLE TIFFANY MAXMILLEN, 2002-2009
THE LIGHT OF OUR LIVES
TAKEN FROM US BEFORE HER TIME
REST IN PEACE OUR BELOVED DAUGHTER

A small laugh escaped Max's lips. Max. Maxmillen. Mark had never known. He doubted, seriously, Mark had ever known Tiffany's last name. Nor had he ever cared.

"He's gone, honey. You can rest now," Max said quietly. "He'll never hurt anybody again."

Settling back on the ground, he pulled the gun out of his pocket. He'd lied to Mark about there being no bullets. There was one left. As he lifted the gun to his temple, Max briefly wondered what, if anything, would become of Shannon Harris, the only survivor. He guessed it didn't matter anymore. Keeping his eyes fixed on the stone, he cocked the hammer, and joined the darkness.



_________________
The End
© Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.com