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Message-ID: <63553asstr$1443780607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} The Library
Lines: 479
Date: Fri, 02 Oct 2015 06:10:07 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The Library (Torture,  Rape)



    The walk to work each day refreshing,  as the early spring has brought 
a crispness to the air and the scent of budding  flowers and trees. The town 
an older one, Hyde Park, known for a former  President, Franklin Delano 
Roosevelt as his birthplace. Between his birthplace  and the Vanderbilt Estate 
to the north, lies the narrow business district of the  quaint village. One 
street wide with strip malls along the two mile stretch and  old single 
proprietorships. The mile long walk to the small library a very good  stretch of 
the legs for the middle age woman. The sound of her sensible  librarian 
heels, a nice staccato of sound as she turns onto Route 9 and stopping  at 
Dunkin Donuts for a large regular coffee. Double container to try to keep it  
warm, as she sips carefully along the route. Waving to the early morning 
risers  and the shops opening early. Past the line of school buses in the 
elementary  school driveway, the noise and bustle as the kids climb down from the 
idling  vehicles.
    A beautiful spring morning, hearing  the sound of her heels on the 
sidewalk, as she walks to her labor of love. The  books, the people needing 
information, comfort and escape whatever their need  for that day, knowing that 
she can point them to the information they need.  Turning the corner and 
gracefully scooping up the newspapers on the walkway to  the front entrance. 
Then undoing the one and then the other lock on the thick  wooden door. 
Pushing it open and walking into the foyer, pushing into the  building itself. The 
sunlight already pouring into the east facing windows. The  shelves of 
books ready lined up like soldier on parade, waiting for someone to  seek 
knowledge from them. Setting my coffee down on the check out counter and  undoing 
the papers from the annoying plastic sleeves and placing them in their  
nooks. Knowing that it will be most likely the last time that they will be in  
that place.
    Then walking around the check out to  my desk inside the small office 
area. Taking my coffee and setting it down as I  lay one copy of the local 
paper, Poughkeepsie Journal on my desk. Sliding my  suit jacket off and 
hanging it on the back of my old wooden chair, then tucking  the creme color 
button blouse neatly into the matching skirt for my suit.  Pushing my glasses 
back on my nose, as I sit down and cross my legs. The paper  spread before me 
and perusing it as I enjoy that first morning coffee. Knowing  that the next 
cup will be from our brewing station unless someone of my regular  patrons 
brings me a refill.
    The library not opening officially  for another 30 minutes; but you can 
expect the early morning risers to come in  and read the morning papers and 
gossip about the happenings of the previous day.  Easing my shoes off of my 
feet, and letting them air out from the morning walk.  Knowing this will be 
the last time I take them off today.
    My regular first walking into  the library, before the usual opening 
and waving at me as he walks to the coffee  nook and makes a pop of the 
lifesaving brew. Ignoring him in a friendly way as I  wave off his offer for a 
fresh brewed cup. Grabbing his paper and his seat. The  regulars are very picky 
about what is theirs in the library and when someone  infringes on it.
    Cranking up the computers and making  sure they are ready for use and 
then the copy machine. Ready for business as I  walk to the side door and 
check to see if any books are in the outside drop.  Pulling out the four books 
from the box and taking them back to the  counter. Checking the due dates 
and putting three back on the shelves, one to be  send back to another 
connected library.
    Finally the day picking up as the  other full time worker shows up and 
an older woman who is a volunteer and then  our student apprentice. The day 
proceeding well, lots of people needing my aid,  smiling that in spite of 
the internet, we are still getting lots of hard  book readers. The afternoon, 
moving quickly as the volunteers and apprentices,  and the full time worker 
finish their work and I wait behind the counter as some  of my regulars are 
slow, reluctant to leave. This being their place to  socialize.
    Finally locking the front door after  the last person leaves. Cleaning 
up the books and papers on my desk, going over  my post it notes and my 
calendar and then shutting down the computers and copy  machine. Doing my usual 
check of the building, the basement empty, everyone gone  from the archieve 
area. Taking the old publications spread on the desk and  putting them back 
in place. Walking up and checking the restrooms in the back of  the building 
and the back door. All secured. Then walking back to the front of  the 
building and stopping at the side door and unlocking and checking again the  
night drop bin. Squatting and pulling out the two books that someone left,  
instead of coming into the library proper. Seeing a man walking up the path 
with  a few books in his hand, waiting for him. "I'll take them,  thanks."
    His look of dismay, "are you closed  for the day?" "Yes, we are." 
"Damn, oh sorry, I tried the front door, I just  wanted to look something up real 
quick." Not having any plans for tonight, other  then a frozen pizza for 
supper, "what do you need? Come on it, I will give you  fifteen minutes to 
find your information." Letting the man step past me as I  bolt the side door.
    "I need to look at last week's  Poughkeepsie Journal if I may." The man 
middle aged, some gray in his hair, a  little shorter then me and medium 
build. Not a familiar face, but I don't know  everyone in Hyde Park. Neat 
khaki slacks and a button shirt to match, almost  looking like a work uniform of 
some sort. That with the hand satchel that  rattles as he walks, making me 
think he is a blue collar worker. "This way,"  leading him to the basement 
stairwell and switching on a light to illuminate the  stairwell. My heels 
clicking sharply on the wooden stairs and his footsteps  solid as he walk down 
into the Publication storage area.
    Turning to the man, "do you know what  date of the Poughkeepsie Journal 
you want to look at?" Walking right to the  filing cabinet and pulling it 
open, waiting expectantly. "April 3rd." Pulling it  out and seeing the 
headline as I turn to hand it to the man. Feeling his hand  covering my face with 
a cloth soaked in some liquid. Breathing it deeply and  quickly passing out. 
The man catching me in his arms. The paper falling to the  floor from my 
limp hands. The man carefully stepping over the front page, the  banner 
headline reading, Serial Rapist in  Custody. (The man who had women in five 
counties north of New York City  in fear has been captured. The man known to have 
committed at least 12  brutal rapes and torture of women is now off the 
streets.) The man laughing as  he reads the bold print under the headline.
-------
    Lowering her to the floor and walking  over to the table where people 
would spread out their papers and work. Pulling  the chairs away from the old 
wooden table and then opening his bag. The satchel  containing not just 
tools; but an assortment of other items. First order of  business is to firmly 
secure the woman. Pulling on a pair of plastic gloves. A  strip of duct 
tape, quickly ripped off and pressed again her face and cheeks.  Then turning 
her over and tying her hands with tape. Standing her up and laying  her 
stomach down from her waist up on the table. The man putting the bottle of  
chloroform and a cloth on the table, near at hand. Waiting patiently for the  
woman to wake up again. The signs of her consciousness returning and he pulls  
her suit skirt up jamming it around her waist, as his hands rip at the flimsy 
 bikinis panties. Tearing them from her hips, exposing the soft round 
cheeks of  her ass, as he sets the panties on the table next to the  chloroform.
    Then reaching under the woman and  massaging her bare pubes. Fingers 
working knowingly squeezing and probing.  Patrice now awaking shaking as she 
feels the intruding fingers. Being held down  to the table with one hand as 
the other roughly massages her labia and folds.  Lowering his pants to his 
ankles, his hands pulling a condom over the swollen  cock. Engorged with blood 
as he looks down at the helpless woman. Stepping  closer and shoving his 
hard cock into the woman's cunt. His thick cock taking  the bitch.
--------
    Waking up to feel his hand on my  back, another under my body groping 
my labia. My head buzzing with a headache  form the liquid on the cloth. 
Trying to breath as I work my lips under the duct  tape. Lips sealed tight, as I 
breathe deeply through my nostrils.
    Then feeling the thick cock head part  my lips, my pussy lips. Moaning 
as he shoves it deep with one stroke. Pushing my  waist into the edge of the 
table, taking my breath away in a gasp of pain and  air. Eyes watering as I 
try to inhale again, feeling his cock pull out and then  slam again into my 
pussy from behind. Long powerful strokes, measured as he  waits for my body 
to relax and then slams it again into the table. A stream of  moisture 
oozing from my nose. As I grunt into the tape gag. Long minute feeling  his cock 
using my pussy for his pleasure. The lube on the condom now mixing with  
juices from my cunt. In spite of the roughness and the act of rape, my walls  
responding to the intrusion of a cock. Lubing my walls and opening. Easing 
the  pain of the initial strokes. Feeling the man sliding a finger against my 
spongy  labia, wiping juices onto the digit, then feeling him insert it at 
the opening  to my ass. A quick twist and the finger knuckle deep and then 
another, taking  the small opening quickly with a finger fuck. Working it 
deep as his cock is  still lodged in my cunt. Then feeling another finger added 
to the first in my  ass. Again and again taking my ring, spreading it and 
fucking into my  ass.
Hearing his satisfied grunt as he pulls out of my pussy and  shoves the 
condom covered cock into my asshole. Feeling the thick head pushing  at the 
small opening, then grunting hard as I feel it pop into the dark canal.  
Grunting with pain again as the shaft follows the cock head. My ass ring  
stretched to bursting it seems. Feeling the unfamiliar cock deep in my bowels.  
Feeling his pubic area against my ass cheeks. The skin clean of all hair.  
Feeling his balls sack, also hairless slapping against my inner thighs and  
swollen labia. Eyes wide as he pulls out to the entrance to my ring and then  
slams his cock back into me hard. My legs straining as I brace against the  
onslaught. Then after long minutes, feeling him jerk and discharge deep into my 
 bowels. His body laying across my back, as I feel him jerk with each spurt 
of  his cum. Finally feeling him pull out of my ass. A soft plop as the 
thick head  clears the ring.
    Breathing hard as I lay still waist  bent on the wooden table. Trying 
to collect my thoughts as the man walks around  to the side and shows me the 
tip of his condom. Filled with his milky white cum.  The organ still 
semi-hard and his genitals total devoid of body hair. Watching  as I try to catch 
my breath as he slides the filled condom from his cock and  carefully puts it 
in a baggy, then taking wipes and cleaning it thoroughly as I  lay well 
fucked on the table. My ass feeling like it has been ripped open, and  my labia 
and inner thighs, feeling bruised and sore.
    Starting to lift my body up at the  waist and feeling his hand slamming 
my upper body and face against the hard  table. Wondering if I have any 
broken teeth or cheek bone, as I was just barely  able to turn my face to 
deflect from a full face contact with the wood. The man  gripping my hair and 
pulling my head up as the tears course down my cheeks. My  left side burning 
and sore with pain. Seeing it already swelling, bulging in  front of my eye.
    "This isn't going to last forever  Patrice, but while it does, you will 
do what I say and only when I say it. Do  you understand?" My eyes pleading 
as I nod my head yes. "Be a good girl and you  will live to see another 
morning." His words not reassuring as I lay on the  table, watching as he puts 
away his baggy and pulls up his pants. "Oh, by  the way, I have no body 
hair, and no DNA other then the man's I left at the  crime scenes."
    "You do know who I am  Patrice, my sweet lovable librarian. It will be 
quite the shock when they  find another woman raped and tortured by the 
Serial Rapist they have locked up."  Hearing him laughing nastily at his joke.
    "Now dear lady, we must go to the  next step. And yes, I have 
researched you and your habits Patrice. You live  alone, you were not going anywhere 
tonight and your precious library is secured  for the night. Our night."
    Watching as the man takes the cloth  and bottle and opening it, pouring 
some liquid on the cloth and holding it to my  face. The pain and room gone 
in a few breaths.
--------
    The man working now to move to the  next part of his modus  operanti. 
Taking the  unconscious woman and lifting her up and lying her on her side on 
the table.  Cutting the tape from her wrists and quickly spreading her body 
in an "X" on the  long table. Using clothesline, tying her arms and legs to 
a leg of the table.  Roughly pulling the tape from her mouth. The skin 
tugged harshly as it pulls  free and then wadding up her panties and shoving 
them into her mouth and then  placing a cheap mouth piece between her teeth, 
before sealing her mouth tight  again with three wraps of the tape around her 
mouth and the back of her head.  Careful not to catch her hair in the tape. 
The woman now secured to the table,  the man taking out a drill and drilling 
the four corners and screwing in  eyebolts to the top of the table. Then 
after a short douse of chloroform again  to the prone Patrice, taking each 
wrist and ankle and securing wire around them  and the eyebolt, with a 
turnbuckle in the middle. The wire digging cruelly  into the soft flesh of the 
wrists and ankles.
    Looking down at the woman spread  helplessly on the table. Her clothing 
disarranged around the librarian, as the  man takes a picture of the woman. 
Setting up a camera to tape this part of the  night. And having his hand 
camera ready for those special shots and short video  clips. Waiting for the 
woman to awaken. Watching as her eyes flutter and limbs  pull on the 
bindings. Eyes opening wide as she looks up to the man at the foot  of the table. 
The flash of his camera and the fixed one with its red eye shining  back at 
her. Her face red and swollen on one side. Cheeks wet with undried  tears.
-------
    Looking up at the man, seeing him  behind his camera and the camera 
that is fixed at the foot of the table. The  wires biting cruelly into my 
wrists and ankles as I struggle. Feeling the thin  wire abrading the layers of 
skin. My mouth full with the cloth stuffed inside,  knowing it is my panties, 
and the tape now wrapped tightly around my mouth,  taking deep breaths 
through my nose.
    Watching the man as he pulls out  surgical scissors and quickly cuts 
the thighs highs from my legs, then starting  with my left arm, cutting from 
wrist to armpit the sleeve, then the other arm  and then neatly across the 
top of my chest and then down to my waist.. Pulling  with the skill of a 
magician my blouse from under me. The thin bra, three quick  snips and a jerk. 
Moving the scissors over my swollen nipples, teasing them with  the blades as 
I twist to his amusement. Then from the hem of my skirt cutting up  the 
middle, feeling the opening and closing metal blades against my swollen  labia, 
pulling the skirt away to expose my totally naked body. Feeling the open  
blades as he probes my pussy and then the folds of my mound. The pinprick as 
he  touches my clit. My body twisting violently, only to feel the wires 
digging into  my limbs.
    The man smiling the whole time.  Enjoying his show. Knowing now why the 
article mentioned torturer. Feeling total  fear as he walks to the head of 
the table and standing over me, he takes off my  glasses and throws them on 
the chair with the ruined clothing. Then hearing the  snipping of the 
scissors and feeling a tug on my scalp. The man gleefully  showing me the long 
swaths of hair as he cuts them from my head. Then hearing a  razor buzzzing as 
he smoothes out my bald pate. Using a straight razor to finish  the job. The 
straight razor working across my eyebrows and then scrapping at my  pubes 
hairless. "The Hairless Rapist." Living up to his name. Not wanting to see  
how I look now. Tears flowing again as I lay helpless and scared. Then 
feeling  my urine flowing from my body in a weak arch. Not able to contain the 
terror as  I lay totally helpless and open to this man.
    Face burning with humiliation now,  this man causing me to lose 
control. Watching as he filmed a close up of me  peeing myself. Then a close up of 
my face and head. Wondering what more he has  in store for me. Trying to 
remember the details that I heard and cringing as the  word come back to my 
memory. The word piercing's mentioned. Watching as the man  takes out straps 
and runs them under my armpits and the table, then another over  my waist and 
under the table and then just below my pubes, holding my thighs  tight to 
the table and then at my knees. Not able to move a muscle, and then  feeling 
the man using a screwdriver to tighten the turnbuckles pulling my arms  and 
legs tighter to the corners, the wire biting deep into the flesh, cutting  
off the circulation.
    A small leather case, pulled from his  satchel and set between my legs, 
out of my sight. "You will love your new look  Patrice. And your online 
chat room talk and ims, tell me that you like pain."  Smiling as he holds up 
his kit, showing it to me. Looking at the forceps and  needles of assorted 
sizes. Moving my head side to side in a negative refusal.  Watching as he sorts 
a his store of materials. My body pulling at the straps,  and wires. 
Knowing I can't escape, but trying anyway.
    "Hold still now, I don't want you to  rip a ragged hole in your body." 
Snickering.  His gloved fingers playing  with my left nipple as he looks at 
me. His other hand holding up the needle for  insertion. Teasing the tip of 
my nipple, as he reaches for his forceps. the ends  made to have an opening 
through which to insert the needle. My eyes wide as I  feel the forceps 
clamp on my left nipple, holding it, pulling slightly and then  feeling the 
sharp bite of the needle as it slides into the yielding skin of the  swollen 
tip. My lips quivering under the duct tape, trying to force the sticky  
material from my lips. The scream of pain and terror, reflected in my eyes and  the 
muffled scream and snort. My body shaking side to side as I feel his 
fingers  massaging the right nipple. Then gripping it with the looped end forceps. 
The  pain again rioting with my nerve ending and brain. Sweat beading on my 
body as  the pain lessens. Eyes wide and staring into the soft brown eyes 
of the man.  Seeing his nostrils pinching and his breath hissing from his 
closed lips as he  works the needles back and forth in the swollen nubs. The 
skin over my stomach  rippling as I try to keep from vomiting. Not wanting to 
lift my head and look.  Closing my eyes as I try to control my body. The 
pain subsiding. Holding myself  tight, then writhing as I feel is fingers 
touching the folds of my pubes. Air  hissing from my nostrils as I feel his 
fingers pulling on the inner exposed lips  of my labia. Feeling him clamping the 
forceps over the thin delicate flesh. The  forceps twisitng and pulling on 
the loose folds. Then him raising a thick needle  with a small cap on the 
end. My body straining as I feel him pushing it into the  sensitive flesh of my 
inner labia. Hearing him tap on the end of the needle,  feeling the 
vibration as the end digs into the table. Straining to not move as I  feel my skin 
pinned to the table top. More needles biting into the thin folds.  Then 
feeling his fingers with a very thin needle, playing with my clit. Feeling  it 
swell in spite of the pain of my body.
    My head lifting as I feel the thin  rod of steel, slide into and 
through the smooth pearl. Tears running unabashed  from eyes, as my bare head 
pounds against the table wood. My teeth biting into  the plastic mouthpiece. 
Gagging and feeling the man lifting my head up, breaking  an ampoule under my 
nose. My head clearing of pain for a moment. Ragged breaths  as I try to 
control my heart and the deep breathing. My stomach roiling again as  I lay on 
the table, being pinned like some display insect. My eyes catching the  hard 
throbbing cock bobbing from his mid section, covered with another condom.  
The fat mushroom cap, stretching the thin material. Seeing the man's face, 
the  muscles in his neck straining as he plays with the needles in my body. 
Pushing  on one, then pulling on another.
    Trying not to move, as he takes  little needles, acupuncture ones, and 
jabs them into the flattened breasts on my  chest, a pin cushion forming as 
more and more are stuck into the soft flesh.  Then feeling more pain as her 
works another handfull of needles into the swollen  flesh of my outer lips. 
The pain and pricks, now just a dull sensation as I feel  more sticking out 
of me like a porcupine. "You are doing well my dear." The  man leaning over 
me, letting me see a smile of pure pleasure and evil wreathing  his lips.
    Reaching into his bag and pulling out  a small vibrator. Turning it on 
and hearing the hum filling the room. Then  feeling the vibration as he 
touches it to the ends of the piercing needles.  Amazed at not feeling pain, but 
pleasure as the nerve endings send impulses of  sensation to my brain and 
core. My body shaking involuntarily as he stimulates  the needles in the 
nipples, then touch it to the ones pinning my inner labia,  and then finally 
touching the needle spearing my clit. Holding it tight to the  small steel rod 
and feeling my body jumping as I feel a spasm of pleasure wash  over my 
insides, then another. Gulping in helpless silent terror, as he takes an  orgasm 
from my tormented body. Not even leaving me the pain without humiliating  
me and my body by its betrayal. Forcing my lower body not to move, as I feel 
the  needles in my labia pulling with each small spasm.
    "We are close now Patrice." His words  not reassuring as I see him 
reach again into his bag and pulls out a milky vial,  then another. Using a 
syringe, drawing the milky fluid from the one vial and  then leaning over 
between my legs. Inserting the end of the syringe into my  spincter and then 
feeling a washing of fluid deep in my ass. My body trembling  as I feel my 
insides rejecting the milky liquid. Then watching as he inserts the  syringe into 
the other vial and drawing it up the cyclinder. Then feeling the  syringe 
pushed deep into my vagina, and feeling the discharge as he pushes the  
plunger, empties the thick creme into my clenching tunnel. Moaning deep inside  
myself as I feel the syringe being left between my legs. The man taking the  
vibrator and inserting it into my opening. Plugging its entrance and the 
fluid  inside me. Then again filling the syringe from the first vial, and 
squirting it  onto my stomach and chest. The creamy splatter white pearly drops of 
 cum.
    My head spinning as I wait, my body  aching with a dull throbbing pain. 
My hands numb with lack of circulation, my  ankles the same. My breasts 
punctured with needles and nipples totally pierced,  the thicker needles still 
jammed into them. My pubic area, also a pin cushion of  acupuncture type 
needles. The needles stuck into the swollen labia of my outer  lips, and then 
the other needles, jammed through the delicate tissue of my inner  lips, the 
tips actually stuck into the wooden table top. And finally a needle  
piercing my clitoris. My cheek bruised and swollen and maybe a broken bone in  the 
cheek. Thighs and labia bruised from his fierce fucking and ass still  
gapping from the feel of the cum leaking out of my ass. The painless shaving of  
all hair from my body and of course the continuous red light of the overhead 
 camera and the still shots and  videos taken close up of my body. The  
chloroform, still making me nauseous as my stomach continues to churn with the  
shock to my body tissue and the chemical inducing my unconsciousness. My 
fear of  vomiting and drowning in my puke more real then my fear of his 
needles at the  moment. Wondering if the man can read my mind as he takes some 
magazines and  braces my head up, to look down at the ravaged skin of my body.
    Breathing heavy and hoping that the  cum was the final degradation. 
Weak and feeling the swollen tongue in my mouth  as I watch the man counting 
his instruments and checking off as each is placed  into his satchel. "Don't 
go away Patrice, I need to make some adjustments to the  library network." 
The man walking out of my sight, and hearing his slow steady  step as he 
climbs the stairwell. Wiggling against my bonds, feeling the pinch of  needles as 
I move my lower body. Laying back and just trying to relax, to  compose 
myself as best I can. Feeling moisture on my body, not sure if it is cum  or 
blood. Wondering again, if this is where I will die. The other victims lived;  
but did they suffer all of this pain and torture. Wondering if this is the  
serial rapist or a copycat rapist.  Is he escalating in his  depravity.
    Hearing him finally returning from  upstairs. Seeing him walk calmly 
into the room putting away a spare cable into  the hated black satchel. 
Watching as he takes a small water bottle from his bag.  Setting it down on the 
table, and then reaching to place my torn clothing under  my head, and then 
watching eyes following every move as he takes the bottle and  tips it almost 
gently to splash around the tape on my mouth and then pouring  some on my 
forehead and neck. The water soothing in some way. Then his fingers  wiping 
the tears from my cheeks, as he empties the bottle of water into his  mouth. 
Gulping noisily and emptying it to the last drop. The bottle and lid  going 
into his bag and being checked off.
    Begging with my eyes as I look at  him, wondering if that was it. Will 
he leave now, will he kill me. "The final  chapter for you Patrice. No, you 
aren't going to die; but my dear, there is more  pain in your future." 
Watching as he reaches to the newspaper that started this  horrific series of 
events. Seeing him smiling as he puts it down and taking out  a magic marker.
    Writing on my stomach. "You should  get all the facts, Ms. Hillebrand. 
I can give them to you firsthand if you would  like........ The Piercing 
Rapist."
"Now my dear Patrice, we will part company very shortly."  Watching as he 
reaches into his pants again and pulls out his swollen cock,  again with 
another condom covering it and slowly jerking on his hard cock, as he  pulls and 
pushes the needles in my body. Moaning deep inside, as I feel the pain  
renew and a wash of pleasure also mixes with his manipulations of my  body.
    Finally watching in self fascination,  as he takes the front page of 
the Poughkeeps Journal. The glaring article  notifying the public that they 
are safe now. Placing it on my stomach and chest,  smoothing it out as I feel 
the paper against the bottom of my breasts. Reading  the article out loud 
and laughing, almost a giggle. "I am almost sorry that you  will have to be 
used as an example and message carrier."
    Reaching into his bag again and  pulling out a staple gun. Watching as 
he takes a line of staples from a box and  loads them into the gun. Hearing 
the spring swing closed with a loud metallic  sound. My mind now putting 
together the stapler, the newspaper and my body  beneath. Eyes staring wide in 
horror as I put together the impending scene.  Watching in what feels like 
slow motion as he positions the stapler over the  newspaper, pressing down 
gently till I feel the paper against my right breast,  and then feeling the 
pain and the sound of the gun. The staple shooting into the  fatty tissue of 
my breast. My body lifting in protest, pulling on the bond and  straps 
holding me to the table. The needles shifting on my body. Seeing the  man stopping 
to look at the staple, feeling his finger against  the metal staple as he 
checks to see if it will hold in my skin.  And then watching in horror as he 
unloads his staple gun and loads in the longer  staple. The pain again 
making my body jerk, my mind screaming with pain and pure  terror. Then another 
staple in my other breast both of these sticking deep into  the fatty tissue. 
The man measuring the thickness of my skin and the fat tissue  beneath as 
he moves down one side of my chest with well positioned staples. My  tears 
flowing as my body tries to shrink into itself. The pain  not increasing with 
each staple and wondering at this, as I feel  him look at me before each 
shot of the gun. Again and again working down the  other side of my chest, 
feeling the bite, seeing him jerking with one hand as he  stops, his cock 
swollen and bulging in the condom. Watching him jerk himself off  as he continues 
to torture my body. Finally the shock thankfully taking me into  an 
unconscious state.
    The man completing his tacking of his  placard to its display area. 
Then as he pulls on his cock, shooting staples  haphazardly into the yielding 
flesh. The paper and breasts and lower pubic area,  a confusion of partially 
sticking staples.
--------
     Looking at Patrice deep in a  world of pain and throbbing aches. 
Reaching between her legs and turning on the  vibrator. Seeing her flesh moving 
as the vibrator whips the creme inside into a  froth of bubbles oozing from 
her cunt. The low buzz filing the room as the man  takes out his check list 
and he undoes each strap recording it in his log.  Finally leaning to ratchet 
the turnbuckles each one more time. Then taking a  bottle of alcohol and 
pouring it over the needles and staples. And then breaking  another ampoule of 
smelling salts under her nose. Watching as she awakes, and  writhes in pain 
as she feels the alcohol on the raw open skin. The shriek of  pain and 
beads of sweat breaking out all over her body, puts her into an  unconscious 
state again. One picture of her overall body, and then walking to  the computer 
running the printer. Smiling with the detail of the picture as he  hangs it 
above and to the side of the woman, turning her head so that she will  see 
her perfect picture. Working the tape loose on her mouth and pouring the  
remains of the one vial into her mouth. Letting the thick creme soak into the  
ruined panties and trickle down her throat. Sealing her mouth again and 
taking  his final pictures and closing down the stationary video camera.
    Walking unhurriedly up the stairs,  leaving the torture chamber of the 
library and the woman Patrice. Thinking to  himself how she is now lucky 21, 
not the 12 that they know of. Amazing how many  women will not report, even 
something as horrific as this.
------------------------------
    The man working from a stolen laptop  from the library and putting 
together a video first highlighting the whole  session and then the total video. 
Posting it through the library to a an extreme  bondage site. Then another 
live feed on the Dutchess County Web Site. Thinking  to himself, how easy 
this is. Wondering if the reporter will piss her panties  when she finds out 
about her mistake in her article and the message left for her  on the woman's 
body. Also wondering if the cum dripping from the woman's ass,  will shock 
them when they find it is the DNA of the man they presently have in  jail.  
And yes, to let them know for sure of their mistake the plugged  vagina 
filled with horse cum, the one piece of evidence that was never mentioned  to 
the press. 
    Walking quickly from the library and  to his van. Smiling then 
laughing, as he peels back off the makeup from his  face, Pulling off the wig and 
bagging them to be burned with all of his other  baggies. Ah, that was good, 
three extreme orgasms from this woman. Already  wondering how to top this.
--------------------------
    The small town wondering what is the  excitement at the Library as the 
area is taped off. The New York State Police,  the Dutchess County Sheriff's 
Office and the Hyde Park Police and Town of  Poughkeepsie Police 
Responding. The EMTs at a loss as they look at the woman on  the table in the basement 
of the Library. Not sure what to do to the  semi-conscious 
woman.................it was not the live feed at the Dutchess  County Web Site or the 
Extreme video posted on line that attracted the attention  of the police; but 
hysterical screams of the woman entering the basement.  Fleeing the building as 
if all the demons of hell were chasing her, and maybe  she wasn't far from 
wrong.........the video online having had almost thirty  thousand hits 
before it was pulled from online...........the County feed ending  when they 
finally had an IT woman disconnect the webcam.......  the horror  lives on for 
the community...
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