The following story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to any real person
living or dead is absolutely coincidental. The narrative deals with torture and
slaughter of innocent human beings. The author in no way condones or promotes
such acts. This is the world of fantasy and fiction where the hidden corners of the
psyche may be explored. The author believes that exploring such subject matter in
this realm keeps it from ever needing to be explored, and much less fulfilled, in real
life. There is violence in all of us. Otherwise there would be no crime, no war, no
destruction. We must acknowledge the beast inside of us if we are to tame it. To
ignore it and repress it is to invoke its appearance in our midst. 
		

				Dying For Stryker




PRELUDE

	The woods that surround Stryker's house are hauntingly quiet. 
	Thunderstorms have been rolling in from the ocean every few hours
unleashing wind and rain but between nature's waves of fury the forest, wet and
darkly emerald recovers its calm. The leaves drip rainwater.  Squirrels scurry down
pine and oak trunks.  Sparrows twitter and flutter off.  Out on the beach
seagulls squawk circling.
	There is a row of seven tall pines that tower over the rest of the trees in the
area west of the large house.  Beyond the trees, some fifteen yards toward
the entrance road is a ten foot wire mesh fence with barbed wire running along
the top edge.  The fence, dark with rust, is overgrown with vines and poked
through with shrubbery and branches.
	Between the pines and the fence is the burial ground.
	Stryker has occupied the seaside mansion built by his father in the 1970's for
twenty five years and in that time he has planted nearly six hundred female
carcasses in the forest.  There are two hundred more bodies in the wooded area east
of the house and countless other victims tossed off his yacht into the depths of the
sea several miles out beyond the bay. 
	Over the years the killer has seen many of their faces in posters and televised
news reports.  He's seen the stories in Unsolved Mysteries', America's
Most Wanted' and other television tabloids.  Some of his kills made national
news as missing persons but some, most in fact, didn't even make the papers.
	The killer has been amused by sensationalized stories in the media of serial
killers, amateurs who take down ten, twenty or thirty victims. He has been equally
amused and entertained by cop shows which play up the great success of scientific
forensics in helping identify these hopeless and usually insane amateurs. Stryker
knows there are several true killers, even organized white slavery groups, operating
in the United States out of the media's eye and under the government's secret
sanction.  No one has bothered to question the vast discrepancy between the
numbers of missing persons, especially young women and female children, and
solved cases.  For Stryker and others like him females are meat to be hunted down
and destroyed, butchered for the sheer masculine pleasure of it. And he knows for a
fact that a majority of elite males in the corporate power structure are not exactly
averse or opposed to his work - although publicly they could never sanely make
such claims.  Stryker knows cruel misogynistic men, many of them personal
acquaintances of his, are running the show and that females, while depicted as equal
citizens and with human fairness in the general access media (since as consumers
they need to buy product), are in truth completely usable and expendable -  fodder
for their male rulers.  The inner male elite long ago decided that females, who
outnumber males in most human societies, are valid targets for extreme population
control. Which is why Stryker is not overly concerned about being apprehended. 
He has greased the wheels with cash in all the right places and he knows where he's
concerned authorities will be instructed to look elsewhere.  He will be allowed to
continue his life's work unhindered.
	Nourished by Stryker's luckless victims, the forest that surrounds the house
his father built sprawls and blooms with unleashed beauty.  The bodies and souls of
the young violently slaughtered bitches feed the greenery and flow through trunks
and branches and foliage.  On quiet summer nights they can be heard whispering
through the trees and even moaning yearningly for their killer.
	Sometimes Stryker stands in the woods alone, sometimes at night, near
the burial grounds.
	Sometimes he feels the spirits of the murdered women surround him like
soft flowing silk and smiling up at the sky, distant clouds or drifting moon or
bright glowing sun, he masturbates, full of the memories of slaughter, stroking
himself until his balls ache, full and heavy.




1.
	Beth and Holly Wades glide through the mall twenty minutes from closing
time, two angels, twin sisters, twelve years old, dancing through life.  They have
been in the photo booth - the automatic camera shooting repeatedly as the girls
crammed together in the small space, laughing, giggling, jostling for position,
mugging and finally registering a lingering sweet look of exaggerated innocence,
each cupping the other's chin and holding each other's face aimed at the glass panel
behind which the photography equipment whirrs and clicks.  Outside the booth
afterwards the machine spits out its single-shot scroll of frozen imagery and the girls
laugh and giggle at the funny faces knowing how pretty they are, knowing they are
worth looking at, full of themselves in their joyous roleplay, worthy of the most
depraved lust - little rich cunts spending daddy's credit cart in the spacious mall as
the night moves to its inescapable conclusion, store owners moving about and
cleaning up,  bored teenagers stacking the shelves for the next shopping day,
shoppers making their way out to the parking lot.
	Beth and Holly glide through the mall.
	Like butterflies in a scented garden.
	"Venus Fly Trap," Beth says reading the sign.
	Its a clothing store for teenage girls.
	"Yeah," Holly replies looking in the window. "Stupid name - Nice stuff
though."
	"Wonder why they called it that?" Beth steps up beside her sister to look into
the window.
	"Dunno -"
	Their pretty brown eyes scan the shelves and display cases avidly.
	Cunts.
	MTV whorelets.
	Your time is at hand.
	"Let's go in," Beth says.
	"They're gonna close," Holly replies, doubtful.  
	The girls are perfect twins.  Almost perfect.  But there are small differences.
Beth is the more aggressive. Holly is the follower - the doubter - the weak one.
Beth's eyes are just slightly darker than Holly's. Beth likes dark-haired boys.  Holly
likes fair-haired ones.
	Holly follows Beth into the store somewhat unwillingly.
	She's worried their father will yell at them later for spending so much money.
She's worried mom will lose her patience if they show up late to be picked up at the
mall's entrance.
	"Don't worry about it," Beth has told her.
	That's what Beth always says. But Holly knows better and she does worry.
	Beth will probably ring up another two hundred dollars in here.
	Soon, however, Holly's mind is carried off on her sister's enthusiasm and all
worry banished.
	Stupid little bitches.
	Summerwear.  Bathing suits. Tank tops. Jeans. Denim cutoffs.
	"Dude! Check this out!"
	Giggles.
	There's no one else in the store but a buzz-cut blonde man behind the
counter.  He looks like a soldier, an ex-Marine maybe.
	He studies three monitor screens then touches a button under the cashbox
and the store's doors lock.
	He's been watching the girls, studying them - but they have not noticed.
	"How about this one, Beth?"
	The man behind the counter touches another button next to the first one.
	A warning light flashes behind the two-way mirrors in the fitting rooms.
	A brawny man with long dark hair who has been sitting in an easy chair in
the dark space behind the mirrors gets to his feet.  He's been waiting.  Several
hours.  Its been a slow day.  He's hoping the wait has been worth it.
	He cracks his knuckles.
	He watches Holly and Beth enter the fitting room on the other side of the
mirror.  His eyes glisten with excitement.
	Twins, he thinks to himself.
	Jesus Fucking Christ.
	Now we're talkin'.
	The girls do not see him, only themselves reflected in the fitting room mirrors
as they peel off their shorts and blouses, then their underclothes and sandals
to try on the bathing suits.
	Brawny looks on, smiling, peering predatorially at the nude female children.
	Outside the man at the counter pushes another button and the fitting room
doors lock silently.
	One by one the rows of lights in the store go out and the blonde man behind
the counter exits through a door hidden behind drapes.
	Eventually he joins Brawny behind the two way mirrors.
	Both men watch the Wades twins, cocks hard, eyes slitted.
	"Yeahhh," Brawny whispers as the girls pose unkowingly for the mirrors, a
reprise of their performance earlier in the camera booth outside in the mall.
	Soft rock music plays from the sound system and the girls, now wearing
bikinis, Beth a red one with a bottom which is just a thong, Holly a slightly more
conservative daisy-yellow one,  do a pretend coreography for the mirror, Beth
leading, arms wide apart in a flying-like motion, back arched, head tossed back,
Holly putting her arms around her sister's waist, both girls trailing one leg
backward, bare feet arched as they laugh gleefully.
	Brawny picks up the lead pipe.  His teeth grind together.
	He's in a hurry to put an end to the sisterly dance act.
	Counter Man nods and flips a switch on the wall.
	With a whooshing sound the mirror slides upward toward the ceiling.
	"Hi, girls," Counter Man smiles at the shocked pre-teens whose 
coreography freezes as they stare in stunned silence.
	Brawny moves quickly around him, moves in on the twins.
	"No!" Beth has time to cry out as Brawny raises his lead pipe high to bring it
down  with a crunching blow across Holly's brown-haired head.
	For a moment Holly's eyes roll upward toward the ceiling and she seems
like a wind-up ballerina when the spring has run down. A single drop of bright
blood trails from her hairline and down into her forehead over her right brow and
her legs give suddenly - she collapses in a heap and sprawls on the floor.
	Brawny turns to Beth who moves quickly to the door, sobbing hysterically,
desperately trying to turn the knob, realizing that it is locked.
	"Nighty-night bitch," Brawny sneers and the lead pipe clunks heavily down
across the back of the second twin's skull.  Before she falls Brawny smacks the
pipe into the young girl's side just for the hell of it.
	Beth spins almost completely around, trips over her unconscious sibling
and falls across her, her head thumping against the edge of the bench hard on her
way down.
	"Ouch," Counter Man sneers.  
	Brawny laughs.
	"Stupid cunts," he growls.
	"No parents?" he asks sliding down on one knee.
	Counter Man watches him rip the bathing suits off the girls.  Brawny is
pulling off his black t-shirt and unbuckling his pants.
	"Nobody,"Counter Man says his cock bulging in his trousers as he loosens
his cheap tie. "I think they were alone. But I'll check out front for mom or dad just
in case."
	Brawny kicks off his boots and pulls his jeans off.
	"Think you'd better," he says softly.  "We want this to go down nice. Don't
want to fuck it up."
	He hauls Beth off her sister and lays the unconscious child on her back
in front of him.  Blood runs from the child's bruised forehead down into her ear
lobe. A dark red bruise is already shaping up at the base of her rib cage. Brawny
reaches down to smear his fingetip in the warm red trickle at the side of her face. 
His long hair hangs over his eyes. Bringing his finger back to his mouth he licks it,
grunts approvingly - "Sweet," he says. Then still grinning he spreads her legs apart
in his hands he crouches over her and puts his huge fleshy cock to her almost
hairless pussyslit.  Slowly he grinds into the tight vaginal sleeve, his strong fingers
digging into his passed out victim's smooth thighs as he maneuvers her.
	Counter Man watches raptly.
	"Ahhh," Brawny grunts tossing his head back.... "Virgin too, bro...virgin
meat all the way."
	"You gonna fuck em both?" he asks.
	"You betcha," Brawny growls.  "- uhhh - Two times the pleasure, two times
the fun, my man - and you can take sloppy seconds when you come back if you'd
like...Stryker won't mind it..."
	The men laugh.


	Outside two security guards patrol the now nearly empty mall.
	They see nothing unusual.
	"Venus Fly Trap," one of them tells the other. "Stupid name."
	The store is already dark and empty.
	"Aaaa," his partner replies with a dismissive gesture, a bundle of keys
jangling on a ring around his belt as he walks, the butt of his holstered gun flanking
his overabundant gut. "That's for them rich teenie bitches that come in here. Rich
little fucks."
	The other guard laughs.
	The mall lights gleam on the polished tile floor as the men turn off the
main corridor and toward the security office.
	They will watch a ball game on ESPN and eat meatball heroes.
	Out front two black women in beige uniforms are closing and locking the
mall entrance doors.
	No one will notice the attractive dark-haired woman waiting impatiently out
front in her Linconln Navigator as the last few stragglers leave the mall. No one will
see Counter Man approach the vehicle, come up to the driver's side, speak to the
dark-haired woman and gesture.  And of course no one will see Counter Man
walking quickly around the SUV to climb into the passenger seat. Nor will anyone
notice Mrs. Wades drive around to the back of the mall expecting to find police and
ambulances because Counter Man has told her there has been an accident in the
Venus Fly Trap and that Beth has been hurt.  Instead Counter Man will lead the
anxious unsuspecting mom in through the back service door into a narrow hallway
and before she can get on her cell phone he will slam her across the back of her
pretty short-haired head with the same lead pipe used on the twins. He will then
drag mom's unconscious body by one sneaker-shod foot into the fitting rooms to
tear her blue blouse and short white skirt off her.  Both he and brawny will rape the
rich cunt and her two daughters repeatedly and press chloroform-laced rags into
their faces each time any of them start coming around.
	Two hours later the mall security men will be dozing in front of the television
monitors. They will not see Counter Man and Brawny  rolling a large dolly with two
large wooden crates out to the Venus Fly Trap van. They will not notice the men
load the box into the vehicle or see the van drive out of the mall followed closely by
Mrs. Wades' Lincoln Navigator. They will not see any of this because as usual they
will have neglected to walk their patrols.  Brawny and Counter Man will have
avoided all the security cameras. When the Navigator and the van drive off they will
go unnoticed. No trace of the brutal rape-abduction will exist.
	Hours later, near dawn, an alarmed Mr. Wade will report his wife and
daughters missing.
	By then the girls will be in Stryker's hands discovering the meaning of female
suffering and pleading desperately for their lives.
	Mrs. Wade will be hanging upside down by her ankles, slowly dying, both her
sad mahogany-brown eyes viciously gouged out of her head, her body whipped to
shreds, several gashes in her sides and abdomen and a large open cut down the
front of her naked body, from her neatly shaved pussy mound to her long slender
neck, spewing blood and guts to the floor.





2.
	Stryker is in a state of dangerous arousal.
	He takes the call and is told of the delivery.
	A demonic grin spreads across his face as he listens to the description of
mother Wades and the twins.
	He has never done twins before.
	Twelve-year old twins.
	His little Venus Fly Trap enterprise is paying off.  Not only is the goddamn
store making money.  It's providing him with a steady flow of young victims every
month.
	Brawny and Counter Man, Jake and Doug, Stryker's men, have been doing
a great job, even if now and then the merchandise is delivered with some 
bruises and contusions.  That's just fine with Stryker.  As far as he's concerned
cuntmeat is best when served slightly tenderized.
	It's gonna take the men several hours to arrive and Stryker knows he won't
wait that long without action.
	There's the blonde bimbo whore waiting for him down in the basement cell.
	There are other victims down there as well, but they are in far worse shape
and he needs one that can take a few hours of non-stop brutality.
	He knows the blonde pig will do. Yeah. She will do nicely.
	What's her fuckin' name?
	Rhonda.
	Rhonda the callgirl.
	Already a bit over the hill.
	When he picked her up outside the hotel Stryker figured she was maybe
thirty.
	Now that he'd stripped her raped her savagely and put her through two
serious beating sessions covering her pale skin with fierce whip welts he knew she
was actually thirty six.  She'd told him that and lots of other personal detail in a
broken sobbing voice  as he tore the long lash into her body.  Stryker always
enjoyed questioning his victims thoroughly under torture. It was something he'd
learned from his father and learned well. He relished the role of confessor. His
suffering bitches told him things they'd never told anyone else, private and shameful
things. He beat and punished the hopeless truth of their lives out of them, took their
souls as well as their bodies from them, left them with nothing - empy used-up
female shells physically and psychologically ravaged to the point of extinction.
	He's almost used up Rhonda but she still has life in her, enough to take his
pleasure with,  and as he walks slowly down the steps and past the heavy security
door into the soundproof cellar of his opulent mansion, naked, the black leather belt-
strap around his waist, the knife sheathed over his right hip,  the short metal-tip
studded dogwhip dangling over his left hip, his huge tatooed cock erect and arched
upward cleaving the air like some demonic tail, his bald evil head reflecting the
recessed lights overhead in the long hallway of doors as his bare feet slap against the
concrete floor,  he knows Rhonda will soon be finished - she will soon be just meat
and bones - a worthless defiled pile of human female trash.
	Killing the callgirl bimbo will prepare him for the feast of fresh meat that
his men are bringing him.
	He licks his lips and opens the door of cell number 12.


3.
	The whore Rhonda hears the click of the doorlock.
	She has bright blue eyes like playing marbles which look up fearfully through
the strands of fake blonde hair that dangle over her badly bruised face.
	She has a used-whore's mouth, plump-lipped, corners downturned, brows
arched in expectation of the worst.  Both eyelids are swollen and discolored.  Her
lower lip is thinly cut on the right side a dry stream of blood streaking down her
chin and neck.
	She hangs by leather-cuffed wrists from a strand of chain on a pulley in
the ceiling of the empty cell, long red-nailed fingers in-curled, her legs pulled wide
apart and raised high, ankles cuffed and clip-hooked to wooden pillars on either side
of her, a spatter-puddle of piss under her.  Stryker's whips have left scarlet welt-cuts
and purple bruise smears across her back, across her fat firm asscheeks, across her
fake 40-D tits, slicing one nipple open, across her thighs and hairless cuntmound,
across the soles of her feet, even across her already bruised cheeks.
	She knows she's in big trouble.
	Very big trouble.
	In fact, she's in a world of shit and she knows it.
	And the worst part of it is she never even saw it coming.

	
	The bald man in the expensive suit had picked her up in the lobby of the
Hilton where she'd assumed he was staying.  He was tall and a little scary but
Rhonda had been with hundreds of men.  She'd been in a couple of bad situations
but had managed to get out alive.  Once, years before, three young guys, rough-
looking skinheads with pierced ears, lips and eyebrows, had beaten her severely. 
Fortunately for her someone had knocked on the door of the motel room to
complain about the noise and the men had  stopped the savage attack.  They'd been
working her over with wooden clubs and after the interruption they'd gagged her
and fucked her for two hours before leaving her semi-conscious and bleeding on the
sheets.  The maid had found her the next day and called 911.  She spent over two
months in the hospital.
	She'd learned to stay away from that kind of trouble.  Or at least she
thought she had.
	The bald man had been courteous and quiet at first, ushering her to the
limousine though she had never felt comfortable with the idea.  Her worries had
slipped away as he'd offered her champagne and the chauffeur steered the luxury
car through traffic.  The bald man spoke quietly and stroked her bare thigh, told her
how pretty she looked. She asked him if he wanted a blow jow in the car but he
smiled and declined .  She leaned him toward him to try and kiss him but he just
kept smiling enigmatically as he gripped her bare shoulder and steered her away. 
	"Plenty of time for that later," he said.  
	 He sipped his champagne and his fingers teased her bare kneecap as he ogled
her cleavage. Her huge boobs were emphasized deliciously by the thigh-length
spaghetti strap black dress she was wearing. She usually liked  to be looked at like
that but something in his snake-like eyes made her uncomfortable and she gulped
down her champagne and asked him for more. She tried not to think about it. 
	"What's your name?" he asked.
	She told him, not her real name but the one she'd been using for many years
now, disguising her misgivings with a confident smile. 
	"Hmm - that's nice," he commented. " - why don't you take your panties
off for me, Rhonda."
	His voice sent chills through her.  There was something so straightforward
about it - so self confident.
	"Ok," she said meekly putting down the champagne glass and scootching up
on the seat to reach under her short skirt and pull her black satin panties down her
long slender legs.  She felt afraid and aroused at the same time, her cunt already
wet and ready.
	"Give them to me," he ordered.
	She did and then she watched him put the tiny wrinkled garment in the
inside pocket of his jacket.
	"Souvenir," he said as her eyes questioned him.
	The word hung in the air.
	"You have any family, Rhonda?"
	"No - no one."
	"Husband? Boyfriend?"
	She shook her head.
	"That's too bad. Must be lonely for you."
	Then his hand slid up the inside of her thigh and his hard fingers pushed
against her moist slit.
	Her breath caught and she gave out a small gasp.
	"This what I'm buying?" he asked bluntly.
	She nodded slowly.
	Outside the tinted windows the suburban neighborhoods were slipping by as
the car headed out of the city.
	His hand moved up under her thighs and his index finger prodded her anus.
	She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes.
	"And this?" he asked.
	"...yess..." she moaned.
	Was it the champagne that had made her feel dizzy or his dark voice and
the feel of his hand between her silky thighs?
	He brought his hand up to her face and she could smell herself on him.
	His fingers pressed against her partly open mouth and traced its
circumference then probed inward, his index nail raking her teeth.
	"And this too?"
	"Mm-hmmm," she replied smiling dispiritedly.
	"Lick," he ordered. "Lick my fingers clean."
	And she did.
	She was a whore after all,  and whores do what they're told to do.
	After that he'd sat back and continued to ogle her, that odd smile still on his
face.  She picked up the champagne glass and drank and looked out the window.
	The champagne did not wash the odd taste of his hand from her mouth.
	The smell of her excited pussy filled the car. She knew he could smell her and
the thought scared her and made her feel suddenly helpless.
	Soon they were on the coastal highway and pulling into a private driveway
and through an automatic gate.  
	After the car dropped them off and drove away the man's demeanor
changed.   The smile was gone and his eyes glared cruelly.
	She could no longer hide her fear.  He could read it in her face.  And he
enjoyed it.
	A warm afternoon sun hung above in a clear sky.  In the distance she
could hear the sea crashing against the reefs.
	"Strip," he told her.
	"Here?" she asked hesitantly.
	"Yes, bitch, here. I want you naked. Your shoes too. Take them off."
	She kicked off her high-heels and pulled her black dress up over her head
looking around for somehere to put it still standing in the asphalt driveway.
	"Just drop it," he told her.
	All she had on was a black lace strapless brassiere which clung around her
huge bosom tightly. 
	Her face flushed dark red as she reached back to undo the clasps.  As she
let the garment drop from her hand she felt more naked than she'd ever felt
in her whole whoring life.  She felt small.  She felt ashamed.  The man's green
eyes seemed to diminish her, to bore into her like cold steel shafts.
	He just stood there consuming her with his eyes.
	"Turn around," he growled.
	She pirouetted showing him her chunky asscheeks and the smooth concave
and convex slopes of her curving back.
	"Very nice," he said coldly. "Now, face me."
	Again she turned toward him.
	Birds chirped in the oak trees nearby.
	The sun was hot on her skin and she squinted her eyes to look up at him.
	He moved slowly toward her.	
	"You know what you are?" he asked, his voice low and mean.
	The tone he'd used,  the question itself caught her by surprise. She stared
stupidly at him until without warning he smashed his fist into her belly. 
	"You're a filthy disgusting pig," he snarled and swung his fist right up into
her chin as she gasped for air sending her crashing into the wall of the house near
the large mahogany doors.  "That's what you are..." She slid to the concrete floor
groaning and he'd bent over her, hauled her up on her feet by her hair and punched
her in the face several times, continuing to hold her by her hair, until he knocked
her out.
	"...a filthy disgusting scumbag..." she'd heard him saying as the world went
black her ears ringing, the trees in the garden swaying in a green blur.
	The last thing she remembered was a glimpse of her high-heel sandals and
her dress out in the middle of the driveway and her expensive brassiere, like
a discarded husk.
	"You're dirt. No one will even know you're gone."
	When she'd come around she was hanging by her wrists, forced to stand on
her toes, her ankles rope-bound tightly together. She was woozy and her face was
bruised and swollen from his punches. He stood a few feet away, naked, a long thin
whip dangling from his hand and spiraling in coils on the floor. She was surprised
by how powerful and muscular his body but she was especially horrified by the odd
tatoo on his chest, mirrored in smaller scale on his long fat cock - a red cartoon
heart containing his initials, the same ones she'd noticed monogrammed on his
handkerchief earlier, when they'd been in the car, pierced through with a dagger
blade from which a single drop of blood trickled.  Below it, on his chest, a
white ribbon was inscribed with the words Whore Killer'.  
	She had no idea where he'd brought her.  It was somewhere in the house
where the limmo had dropped them off - an empty room lit by fluorescent ceiling
panels with gray concrete floors and walls and two large cabinets at one end near a
heavy soundproof door.  There were no windows, only ventilation slots in the
ceiling near the wall which was opposite the door.  There was a humid smell, and
other nasty smells she didn't want to try and define.  It felt as if they were
underneath the house in some kind of cellar.
	"Let me go," she groaned. "Don't hurt me - please -"
	He said nothing. Instead, he smiled, raised the whip up off the floor and
swung it sharply back over his head.  It whistled meanly and tore into her
wrapping around her waist.  She screamed and jerked to the pain bending her 
knees, her feet coming up off the floor as she hung on the chain which rattled
as it took her weight.
	Wordlessly he'd whipped her for nearly an hour, whipped her until she
sobbed and pleaded and shrieked, whipped her with relentless but unrushed rhythm,
with the seven foot long thin sibiliant whip that thunked and slashed into her until
she'd almost passed out again.  Then he'd given her the thick coarse bullwhip,
standing back to deliver burning strokes of agony against her sweaty striped flesh as
she'd screamed her head off, screamed herself hoarse and pissed herself.
	Then he'd rope-strung her legs up by her ankles and left her there.
	She'd hung there in silence. Suffering.  In pain. Waiting...


	Now the door opens and the waiting is over... she watches him come for her.
	"Please -" she gasps.
	"Shut the fuck up, cunt," he tells her.  The quiet brutality in his voice silences
her.
	"Its showtime."
	Whore Killer, the tatoo says. Whore Killer.
	She senses a new eagerness in him.
	Her legs twitch and tug helplessly against the ropes - long pretty dancer's
legs.
	She watches him unclip the metal-studded dogwhip from his belt.
	"Oh God - no - please - no more - no more -"
	He moves toward her.  This whip has many tails but it is very short and he
stands close enough that she can smell him.
	"There is more, pig. Lots more. Lots more for you to take..."
	Each black tail of Stryker's weapon ends in a small lead ball from which
spikes protrude.
	He stands between her wide-spread welt-striped thighs which glisten in the
light above her as he swings.


	The whore Rhonda receives Stryker's studded dogwhip on her exposed 
cunt, her bound-apart legs flinching with each savage stroke.
	Her big fake whipped boobs bounce on her chest.
	She gags and pukes then throws her head back to scream to the fresh fierce
bolts of scalding pain.
	"I'm gonna make your cunt bloody before I fuck it," he tells her matter-of-
factly swinging and swinging.
	Stryker enjoys the way pain tears through his captive, the way it twists her
face, the way her muscles tighten and contract under the beaten skin of her thighs,
the way the whipstuds tear into the meat of her cunt and splash bits of skin and
blood up into the air, on his belly and thighs and chest, on the floor, on the ceiling.
	He can smell the hot stink of her ripped cuntlips and her vomit as she surges
widemouthed and wide-eyed against the chain and ropes, flecks of puke on her
face and tits.
	She looks pleadingly into his expressionless eyes, into his cold impassive face,
gasping, beseeching for mercy and he only strikes harder and harder, now
slow-pumping his pulsing erection.
	He slashes up from the floor and down from above at the whore's
cuntmound soon turning into a bloody maw of wounded womanmeat.  His
muscular buttocks clench, his legs apart, as his balls swell.  His formidable 
back shines with a patina of sweat. He clenches his teeth together and
continues to stroke himself. He needs to be as hard as possible, as big
as possible for this kill.
	Nearly fifty strokes into it and he's ready for her, ready to give her
what she so well deserves.
	He steps up to her, loops his whip around her neck and and grabs her hips.
	"Here it is, pig."
	His bald head shines in the pale glow of the fluorescent panel.
	Stryker's massive upward-arched manspear pushes against her bloodied twat-
gash. The killer rubs the head of his penis against the torn flesh until it is covered
with blood and then he thrusts into the warm sluthole his hips pushing forward
to drive the whole length of his fuckpole deep.
	"Aauuwwgghh!" Rhonda choke-gasps.
	He fucks her with hard relentless in-thrusts relishing the warm wetness of
her pussy against the taut skin of his prick.  Inside she's soft and mushy like a plum
and her blood is soon dripping off his balls and on to the inside of his thighs and
down his legs.
	"You're a worthless piece of human trash," he grunts. "Say it. Say it for me.
Tell me what you are, cunt."
	He takes up soft whiphandle to pull the looped strands tight around her
throat.  The spiked studs bite into her skin at the back of her neck as she looks up
replying obediently.
	"Ughh - w-worthless - gg - p-piece - of - ghaa - t-t-trashh!"
	Stryker likes to make his women obey him.
	He tugs harder on the whip until the leather strands squeeze into her skin and
at the same time he grinds the full twelve-inch length of his fat prick into the
helpless whore.
	"That's right, bitch," he growls. "Now say it. Say it again."
	His balls slap against her bloody vagina.
	"W-wuhh-worthless - gggg - piece of - ughh - human - trashhh -"
	"That's fuckin' right - I'm gonna kill you, Rhonda - you know that?"
	Her eyes go wider.
	"Yeah. I'm gonna kill your worthless trash-whore ass.  Big fucking deal.  One
less whore in the world.  Right?"
	He thrusts meanly into her yanking on the whip to choke her.
	"Just think of it as an early retirement, scumbag...We're savin' Uncle Sam
some money here, right? Right, Rhonda? C'mon, pig. Stay with me here. You
still have a long way to go. A long fuckin' way."
	Waves of dark pleasure move through the woman-killer.  He tugs on the
whip to choke his prey and tips his head back closing his eyes to relish the
sensation of her devastated sex organ sloppily sheathing his hardness.  The
glow of the overhead lights shines through his lids.  He grunts as his breath
hisses and his panther-like body yields to the flowing surging lust.  He ponders
the idea that soon he will have his hands on two lovely teenage youths - twins -
and their mother.  This makes him bite his lower lip and catapult himself into
the whore Rhonda whose raspy breathy groans of pain are like a hypnotic
chant.  Twins.  The thought of mirror-image children suffering for him takes
the killer to a feverish high.  He pounds into the beaten whore mercilessly not even
looking at her, using her as a piece of masturbation meat - preparation  for
what will come later - a tasty appetizer - a prelude to the slaughter feast he
and his men will officiate.
	Rhonda's tonge lolls out of her painted mouth and her face flushes dark red
as the whip-strands tighten unmercifully against her windpipe.
	"Ghhgaaaa -" she gasps. "Ghhaaaaghh-"
	Then she pukes again.
	Spittle-gobs and bile drip from her mouth and down her chin as she twists
her head from side to side unable to escape the choking leather strips.  A rushing
roar fills her ears as she chokes, her arms tugging against the suspension chain and
her legs kicking against the rope bonds.  Spots explode in her eyes.
	The monster is going to finish her and he's not even looking at her.
	She is already nothing, less than nothing, for him, a piece of bloody flesh
bouncing on the end of his massive prick.
	She can form no words of pleading only ugly shapeless sounds.
	Then he does look down on her smiling, tugging on the whipstrands, and
his fist comes flying up into her face.  He chokes her, punches her and fucks
her simultaneously.  He does not rush the beating but picks his targets - her eyes
and mouth - her cheeks.  He keeps her head from flying back by keeping the
whipstrands in a tight rein.  
	Stryker likes the sounds of his fist pounding into womanmeat.  He likes
her squeals and gasps. He likes the heavy whump of his knuckles into
the softness of perfumed cheeks and glossy red lips.  Whorebeating is high on his list
of plesurable activities.
	Between the choking and the systematic pounding Rhonda's head spins.
	One swift blow cracks the bridge of her nose.
	Blood gushes down her face, drips down her chest and belly.
	Another punch snaps off two teeth and cracks her jaw.
	"P-pleeeeehze!" she wheezes trying to look up at him through swollen
half-shut eyes.
	"Fuck you, pig," he snarls meanly. "I'm sending you to hell - You're
gonna be sucking Satan's cock tonight - "
	He punches her harder, drops the whip to left-right her, slams her big boobs,
her arms, any part of her within his immediate reach. Pumped up and charged with
adrenalin Stryker releases his murderous instincts on the hapless whore.
	He pulls his cock from her to push it against her asshole and slam it up her
rectum, punching her bloodied vagina then resuming the pounding attack on her
disfigured face.
	He takes all he can from her and then he takes his knife, cuts her legs free of
the suspension ropes and steps back to lower the dazed, babbling, bleeding raped
bitch to the floor. At first she sits wobbling, but as her arms descend into her lap she
tips over and falls to the floor on her side.
	Stryker crouches over her, legs wide to smear his asshole and balls on her
bruised, battered face.  He lowers himself on to her as rolls over to lie on her back
and he sits on her face suffocating her, enjoying her garbled breathless protests as
he cups and strokes the head of his arched tattooed prick-shaft.
	Then he rises.
	She hears him go across the room to the cabinet.
	Then he's standing over her holding the hand axe.

	Rhonda's mind slips in and out.
	This can't be real - but in the harsh light the axe gleams.
	It is oddly beautiful. Polished wood handle - red-painted wedge-blade.
	She can smell her own blood and her own puke.
	Her cunt is in fiery agony, her asshole is bleeding.
	Eyes half shut, her aching face and bloody mouth no longer pretty she is the
completion of Stryker's definition - human trash.

	"Kiss the blade," the tattoed killer tells her holding the axe in front of her
disfigured face, hovering over her.
	She lies beaten and unresisting.
	The time for resistance has long passed.
	The time for hope is gone.
	There are broken parts inside her which ache and throb.

	She has been used like never before.
	Maybe her whole life was nothing but an introduction.
	This will be the main part now.
	The final bloody fuck.
	She lifts her head off the floor to kiss Stryker's axe.
	Her hair is mired in puke and piss which puddle under her.

	"I'm going to cut you to pieces -" he tells her. " - stay alive as long as you
can for me."
	It will end here and now.
	All of it.
	All the anguish and the hopes and the fears and the joy and the sadness.

	"Roll over on your belly," he orders. "I like it that way better."

	She obeys him - for it is a whore's job to obey - cradles her head in her arms
and begins to sob softly the concrete floor cold as ice under her beaten tummy.
	"No," he says bending down, pulling her arms out from under her savaged
face. "Like this. Stretch your arms out and your legs - yes - like a little starfish -
good - that's a good cunt -"

	She does not see, does not look, shuts her eyes tightly, hears his bare feet
slapping on the concrete floor as he moves around her - 
	She knows he's looking for a target.  He's considering the possibilities.
	"Mmmm," she hears him say, still circling.  
	"Nice," he says.
	"Real nice...stretch your legs wider...yes...good...wider, slut...come on...very
very nice...arms too...ok...ok...now just stay like that...just like that..."

	He has stopped moving.
	He is back there behind her, standing over her legs.
	"Don't move," he says softly. "Don't fuckin' move."
	
	She hears nothing but suddenly there is a heavy thud and she hears the axe-
blade clang against the floor -
	and then atrocious pain rips through her
	a shuddering scream as she lifts her head off the ground.

	"DON'T FUCKIN' MOVE!" he yells at her.
	She's still screaming.
	And again the thud and the metallic clink of metal against concrete.
	
	"AAWWWHHHH GODDDD!" she wails hoarsely.
	- both her legs have been severed from her body at the knees.

	He comes around and she looks up at him.
	"Pleeeeease -"
	But he pays no attention.
	He stands on her hands, heels bearing down on her outstretched palms...He
bends slightly forward and she hears the whoosh of the axe.
	He hacks off both her limbs at the shoulder and blood splashes out of her
spurting all the way to the wall.

	She says something but that something is unintelligible and as he
steps away she crumples into a fetal position and fades into unconsciousness.

	Rhonda - it is a faint whispering moving through the trees.  A thunderstorm
is moving in from the ocean and the sparkling afternoon sky has gone gray
and restless - Rhoooonda - that's not your name - not your real name - its your
whore name - long ago when you danced at Mike's downtown - the man gave it
to you - Nick - Nicholas Passoulos - He came up with it. Rhonda - good name for a
dancer - good name for  a whore - Rhooooonda - the trees are dancing in the wild
wind now - your real name is Mindy - Mindy Robertson - but now its not even
important because you're just meat, Mindy - a piece of human meat, arm-less and
leg-less barely holding on to life as Stryker pierces the meat-hook under your jaw,
the sharp point  coming out between your lips and he hoists your dying bleeding
body upward, raising you like a flag....  Mindy! Get away from the water...Your
momma's voice in the wind.  The storm rising.  She never knew the way daddy
touched you. Never knew and she died before you could say when you were just
eight and now you can't even talk can you? You piece of shit.  Now you're just a
dangling piece of ugly human trash.


	Stryker moves up to the hanging mutilated whore and he lifts his
cock up to her asshole between her bleeding thigh-stumps.

	"Stay alive for me, shitbag," he whispers in her ear. "You hear me?"

	"Ghhwww?" she groans. "Mggwww?"

	He has his knife in hand.

	Slowly, pleasurably, he pushes up into her rectum and begins to fuck.

	Then he puts the blade to her big jugs - the right one first - slicing through
the middle of it.

	"Stay alive - stay alive - hold on for me -"
	
	Fucking - slicing -
	
	She hears the heavy silicone-bagged masses of flesh slide off her and spatter
the floor.
	Dimly, down there, she sees her legs and arms.

	"Ghhhwww?"

	He pushes the knife-tip into the side of her belly - pushes - pushes - until the
skin rips and the blade enters.

	"Oouuwwggggghhhh!" she grunts.  A gush of blood spews from her
mouth and she stiffens.  There's a loud snap as her neck breaks.

	This is the way Stryker likes to kill-fuck - with his cock and with his knife.
He's in all the way to his balls.  The whore is pissing blood on him.  He rips the
knife blade across her belly and her guts cascade out against his upper thighs, roll
down his legs to his feet - blood, shit, piss -

	"Filth!" he shouts and viciously slams the knife through her throat.
	Her asshole tightens around his shaft and he ejaculates up into the dying
female, going up on his toes to give her the full load, to empty his balls in her.
He pumps all he's got into the dying bitch and finally after long tense mind-blowing
minutes of pleasure he slides out and steps back.
	No longer supported by the killer, the whore's body slumps, sags.  The meat-
hook tears through her lower jaw as her weight pulls downward and her
legless armless body falls to the floor, half her face and head gashed open.
	Stryker leans back against the wooden post and with a sigh of relief begins
to empty his bladder on the whore's carcass.
	
	
	Outside, the thunderstorm rages against the seashore but soon it dissipates
and the trees glisten under a glaring afternoon sun.

	On the driveway of Stryker's house a discarded black dress, wet and
speckled with dirt has been blown all the way against the garden wall.  Shiny
black,  Rhonda/Mindy's shoes lie where she left them, one standing as if her foot
were still in it - the other one on its side like a beached vessel.  In the basement cell,
as if longing for those pretty shoes, one severed foot, toes painted bright red,
twitches spastically as Stryker hacks it off the leg with the axe.  He hacks the hands
from the severed arms. Then with a masterful stroke, the result of years of practice,
he hacks Rhonda/Mindy's head clean off her torso.
	The whore lies on her back, battered, half-severed face on her cut-off head
staring upward through half-closed eyes.
	Stryker raises the axe high and brings it down driving the red wedge-blade
into her bloody cuntmound.
	It will still be sheathed there when Beth and Holly and their mother are
reunited just before morning - then it will be yanked out of Rhonda/Mindy's gashed
womb, ready to be used again.




3.

	Jane Wades came to inside the wooden crate.
	Blindfolded, bound and gagged in the tight box she experienced a moment of
complete terror.
	Her first thought was that somehow she'd been buried alive but then she
felt the rocking motion of the truck and she heard the purr of its engine.
	Otherwise there was silence and darkness.
	Where were Holly and Beth?
	What had happened ?
	There was a blurry memory of a man leaning in to her driver's side window
as she sat waiting in front of the mall and then - nothing.
	She vaguely remembered - he'd told her something about an accident in the
store.
	Gradually she realized she had been stripped naked and bound with ropes,
very tight ropes, around wists and ankles and knees, arms pulled behind her, legs
folded under her.
	Her cheek rubbed against the rough inner surface of the box.
	Wood, she thought.  A wooden crate perhaps.
	We're being taken!
	The thought ripped through her mind and she made a strangled gasping
sound in her throat.
	The back of her head throbbed painfully and her vagina ached.
	I've been raped!
	This second realization made her kick and tug desperately against the ropes to
no avail.
	Maybe the girls have been raped too!
	She began to cry desperately still dizzy from the blow of the metal pipe
against her skull and the continuous rocking motion of the van.
	They must be on a highway, she thought, because the engine never slowed
down and the movement remained steady.
	She tried to hear voices outside but there was nothing.
	Nothing but the hypnotic rush of the road under the wheels.
	She slid in and out of consciousness, not knowing the difference between
terrible reality and nightmarish dream.
	As a little girl, Jane had gotten herself locked in a closet in her grandmother's
house upstairs and no one could hear her screams.  She'd spent nearly an hour in
the small stuffy darkness and for years she'd had terrible nightmares about small
spaces.  Her claustrophobia had receeded in recent years but it was still there in her
subconscious and now it took over her rational mind regressing her to the state
of a helpless infant.
	Had Stryker's men, the two abductors who sat up in the cabin of the
van, known how much psychic agony they were causing their victim they would
have relished it immensely.  But neither Jake nor Doug nor their boss who just 
then was burying an axe viciously in whoremeat in the basement of the seaside
mansion had any clue that Jane Wades was even conscious.

	By the time the van arrived at Stryker's house it was already night.
	The vehicle moved through the automatic gate after Jake punched in the
security code and it pulled in near the metal storm doors that led down into
the basement, in a pool of light under a sodium-arc lamp.
	The men got out and went to the rear of the vehicle to open the back
doors and lift the two crates out on to the driveway.
	Stryker emerged through the out-folding storm doors naked.
	"Been busy?" Jake asked his boss.
	"Always," Stryker replied. "Any problems?"
	"Smooth sailing," Doug said.  "We got rid of the bitch's car
at Sandler's."
	"I'm anxious to see the merchandise," Stryker said. "Let's shove the crates
down the cellar stairs. Maybe that'll wake our sleeping beauties. Which one's
mom?"
	"That one," Jake motioned.
	Stryker moved to the crate that contained Jane Wades and he nudged it over
to the cellar steps.  Then with a strong push he sent the crate crashing down into
darkness.
	A faint whinnying scream was audible as the box reached bottom.
	"Well she's definitely awake," Stryker commented.  Doug and Jake
snickered.
	Then, Stryker's men hauled the other crate to the cellar steps and pushed it
in.  It rolled down with a clatter and smashed into the first crate down below.
	Another whinnying scream from the first crate followed.
	Nothing from the second crate.
	"Mom's awake," Jake concluded. "But the babies are fast asleep."
	"You didn't hit em too hard, did you?" Stryker asked. 
	"Naw - they were breathing and they had a pulse - I checked."
	"I hope so.  Otherwise I'm gonna have to dock your pay."
	"I thought you liked em that way too," Doug piped in.  "You know -
knocked silly - I know I do."
	Stryker and Jake looked at him and then all three of them laughed.
	Beyond the pool of light the killers stood in the trees trembled in a cool night
breeze and the ocean was calm after that afternoon's thunderstorm.
	Still chuckling the men followed Stryker down into the cellar and Jake closed
the folding doors behind him.
	The dead whore Rhonda's shoes still lay at the other end of the mansion's
driveway now invisible in the nightshadows.




	Jane knew the crate she was in had been rolled down a flight of stairs.  She'd
also felt the jolt of something heavy crashing into it.  She'd screamed out both times
with terror.
	Now she felt the crate she was in being lifted.
	"Where do you want em?" one voice outside said.
	"Take em both to number 6," a deeper voice responded.
	That voice was muffled but definitely close by.
	Both, it had said.  Take them both.  So that was another crate that had
been sent crashing into hers...my God, she thought... the twins!
	Jane Wades heard the top of the crate now suddenly being ripped open and
she felt rough hands seize her shoulders and yank her upward into the light.
	"Ghhh!" she squealed. "Mppggff!"
	She felt the ropes around her wrists loosen and she tried to move her arms
but before she could the strong hands had pulled her wrists up above her head
and tight leather bands had been buckled around each limb and her nude body had
been hauled up out of the crate.
	"Real nice," she heard a voice say, the muffled voice she'd heard earlier.  It
was a scary voice.  Deep and gravelly. "Real nice for a whore that's had twins."
	Then there were hands up at her face removing her blindfold.
	The sudden brightness of overhead lighting blinded her but eventually she
was able to look around.
	There were three naked men surrounding her.  They were wearing black
hoods that covered the top half of their faces and had slits for the eyes.  The men
wore black leather belts around their waists on which knives were sheathed, long-
bladed murderous weapons.
	The man with the gravelly voice she'd heard earlier now spoke.
	He was taller than the other two and his cock was a huge up-arched, tatooed
appendage of hard male meat.
	"Welcome to hell, cunt," Stryker said calmly.
	She watched the men move to another crate next to the one she'd just been
pulled from.
	She saw them pry the top off the box and reach in and she watched as they
attached ropes and yanked on pulley lines until Beth and Holly rose upward by their
cuffed wrists and the crate was pulled away.
	"Mmmggfff!" Jane Wades gag-shrieked hysterically as she saw her
daughters.
	The lovely twins were still unconscious but she could see the ugly
bruise on Holly's forehead and an ugly bruise over Beth's eye and another dark 
splotch just above her belly.  There was a stream of dry blood on the side of her
beautiful face.  The twins' pussy mounds and upper thighs were darkly bruised.
Evidence that they, like their mother, just as Jane had feared, had been violated.
	Tears filled Jane's eyes.
	Stryker studied the twins cupping their chins between thumb and forefinger
to lift up their downhanging heads.  
	"Fucking beautiful," he said admiringly.
	"You've got a fine pair of slaughter-bitches here, mom," he told Jane still
studying his youthful victims.
	"A real fine identical pair of blood-bunnies...Take that gag out of mom's
mouth, Jake. I want to ask er some questions."
	Stryker's man moved without hesitation, smiling at Jane as he 
untied the cloth rag which was pushed deep into her throat.
	"Ghwaagghh -" Jane gasped as the gag was pulled out.  A stream of warm
drool ran down her chin and down her neck between her breasts.
	"What are their names?" Stryker asked, his eyes still on the faces of the two
angels.
	Jane stared at him stupidly.
	He turned and looked at her.
	"Their names, you stupid cunt.  Your daughter's names."
	"B-b-be-eth - an - an - and H-H-Holly -"
	"Beth and Holly. That's nice. Kinda Christmas-y. I don't know how the fuck
you can tell them apart...And your name?"
	"Juh-Jane."
	"Well, Jane, in case you haven't figured it out me and my boys have brought
you all here for a bit of entertainment...our entertainment, that is.   The fuckin' truth
is you and your girls will probably never leave here."
	Jane gave out a trembling moan as an icy feeling of dread flowed through
her.
	All three men had turned to look at her now, to enjoy her horror and her
anguish.  Doug had begun to masturbate with a slow deliberate motion.  Jane's eyes
trailed down to his cock which, though not as his boss's was certainly impressive
by most standards.
	"Pleease -" she groaned looking into the slits in Stryker's hood. "Please,
don't kill us.  Me and my husband - we - we have - uh - money - we have lots of
money. We can give you money."
	Jake chuckled.
	"Money," he spat. "You're talking to a multi-millionaire, you stupid slut. He
could buy you and your husband fifty times over."
	Jane hung open-mouthed.  Her shoulders had begun to hurt and her toes
were barely touching the ground.
	Stryker smiled at her.
	"My friend is right. Your money doesn't interest me.  You and your
daughters are here to please me and my men with your pain and your blood - that's
why you're here tonight."
	"B-but," Jane stammered. "But why? Why?"
	"Only one reason," Doug replied after a moment. "Only one that counts,
shitbag...because your daughters went into our store. That's all.  If someone else had
come in it would be them here now. Them and not you."
	"Guess Beth and Holly's little spending spree's gonna cost you dearly,"
Stryker added. "You and them."
	"S-store? In - in the mall?" Jane muttered weakly - the full realization hitting
her. "The Venus Fly Trap..."
	"You got it, cunt," Jake replied, grinning.
	"If its any consolation - you and your girls are not the first," Stryker said as
he moved across the room. She noticed it was a large room with no windows lit
brightly with overhead fluorescent lamps.
	Stryker returned with three wooden clubs from a cabinet that leaned against
the wall and he handed one club to each of his men.
	The men tapped the clubs which were made of polished mahogany against
their palms impatiently, eager to get started.
	"There's been thirty six others before you," Stryker told her. "From the
store."
	"Shit," Jake commented. "That many?"
	"Yeah," Stryker said.  "Jane will be number thirty seven - too fuckin' bad
for you, Jane -"
	Slowly the men moved in on her, moved in close.
	Their eyes sparkled and their breathing was fast.
	From the store'. The killer's words echoed in Jane's mind.  Did that mean
the Venus Fly Trap was only one source for abducted victims?  How many others
were there?  How many women and girls had these men taken? Had they killed
them all? Who were these terrible men and where had they brought her and her
girls? 
	"Let's break er in," Stryker growled meanly.
	"You got it," Jake replied.


	Beth woke first, to the sound of clubs pounding, to the high shrill choked-off
sounds of her mother's screams.
	The odd room swirled around her and she thought she was going to heave.
	She was hanging by her wrists and Holly was hanging next to her.
	It was like being on a boat in a storm.
	The room banked and the horrible sounds assaulted her eardrums and shot
through her aching head.
	She tried to say something and realized that a piece of cloth had been
rammed down her throat and a strand of duct tape had been wrapped tightly
around her head.  Holly was likewise gagged and still unconscious, her features
lax and neutral.
	Beth felt cold and realized she was completely naked, arms stretched upward
and her ankles bound and her feet off the floor.  She hurt down there, in her
pee-pee, and she didn't know why.
	Her right side hurt deeply and the memory of the naked man standing over
her and her sister in the fitting room suddenly came back.  She saw him swing the
metal pipe into her ribs - he had already hit her head and her ears were ringing... 
She'd heard the other man joke, both of them laughing as she slid to the floor. 
Vaguely she felt their strong hands on her - she'd smelled a tangy medicinal odor -
and now she watched the men from the store pounding into her mother - even
though they wore black hoods she recognized them.  But the third man, the tallest
of the three with the long, fat up-hooked penis and the weird tatoos - ( he had the
biggest penis she'd ever seen, though in her short life it was true she hadn't seen
many, just some dirty pictures or a couple of sex videos at her friend Kathy's
house) - she didn't remember seeing him anywhere.
	He was scary.
	She watched in silent tearful helplessness as the three men clubbed her
helpless mom.
	Seconds later Holly came to.  She was facing Beth and bound in suspension
just like her sister and her mind was completely blank.  Why was Beth gagged? Had
they been in a car accident? Was this a hospital?  She had no idea where
she was or how they'd gotten here. Her belly and her sex organs ached and felt hot.
Her pussy-hole was burning and her head ached and throbbed and her wrists ached
numbly.  She tilted her head back and saw the leather cuffs binding her arms,
realized she too was brutally gagged, and she turned to follow her sister's horrified
gaze.
	Three nude men circled their mother and they were pounding her nude
suspended body with black wooden clubs.
	Jane Wades danced a desperate jiggling spastic dance to the beating and she
tossed her pretty black-haired head back to groan and screech in response to the
jolting blows unaware that her daughters were now conscious witnesses to the
savage assault.
	Like her sister, Holly felt her head reeling and the sight of her nude mother
being beaten by the hooded predators filled her with horror. 
	This can't be happening, she thought to herself.
	This can't be real.
	Suddenly, as she looked their way, Jane Wades screamed out:
	"Holly! - ahgghh Godd - Beth!"
	The men stopped the torture of the hanging dark-haired beauty and turned to
look at the gagged twins.
	"Hey. They're finally awake," Doug said smiling.
	"Did you have a nice nap?" the tall bald monster asked the twins
sarcastically.
	"Ghh!" Holly grunted.
	"Hrgghhh!" Beth added.
	"Don't worry," the green-eyed bald man intoned.
	To the girls he looked like a pirate from an old movie.
	His voice was low and it made the young girls tremble anxiously.
	The other two men seemed frozen in place - waiting for a cue to continue the
attack on mom.
	"We'll be sure to save some for you."
	And the killer turned to Mrs. Wades, raised his club and smacked the young
woman hard across her left shoulder.
	The other two men needed no other prompting to resume the fierce beating
of their suspended victim.
	Thud! Slaashh! Thhumpp!
	The clubs fell harder now, more viciously.
	Now the killers had an audience and Jane Wades was forced to endure the
change of pace, kicking up her legs and howling, making a delicious spectacle
before her lovely daughters.  She twisted from side to side, cuffed hands clutching at 
the air, her hefty tits wobbling, and she screeched as the men pounded into her ribs. 
As she wailed dark droplets of blood oozed from her luscious lips.
	"Yeaahh!" Stryker shouted.
	"Goddamn," Doug snarled gloatingly.
	"Bust the fuckin' shitbag!" Jake urged swinging his own club across mom's
shoulderblades. "Bust er guts up!"
	When Jane's head sagged down gasping for air, Stryker held up his hand and
the beating stopped.
	"Enough for now...I'm gonna fuck this piece of shit," he growled.
	The men raised Jane's legs up and spread them apart, Doug and Jake on
either side of her as Stryker cuffed her ankles up to chain lines from the ceiling.
	Stryker then went down on one knee and spat on Jane Wade's bruised
cuntmound.  He then shoved his club up her rectum slowly making the dangling
slut scream a long shrill trembling cry at the ceiling.
	Doug and Jake jerked off, still gripping their clubs in their free hands. They
stared at the twins as Stryker now rose and positioned his massive manspear against
mom's cuntal slit.
	Jane drooled blood.  Her eyes tracked Stryker's cruel face.
	Stryker's hands groped her bruised battered dark-nippled tits and moved
down to grip her strong hips.
	Her legs quaked and rattled the chains.
	"Ever see mom get porked?" Jake asked the girls. 
	Doug chuckled meanly.
	"No? Well watch carefully cause she's gonna get it now..."
	"Porked?" Doug sputtered as he laughed. "Porked? The bitch's gonna get
REAMED!"
	Both men laughed and as they did Stryker slid forward into the hanging
woman, his meat pushing into her cunt like a battering ram.  Jane gave out a
breathy moan that seemed to go on and on. Stryker's spit barely lubricated the
penetration and as he began to pump his hips his massive prick rubbed the inside of
Jane Wade's vagina raw red.  He worked the bitch slowly, sweating with exertion,
grunting softly as he slid in and out of her, rocking her fleshy boobs, pushing deeper
with each inthrust, his hands tightly gripping her sides, his nails gouging her beaten
flesh.  
	This was so much better than the call girl he'd kill-fucked earlier.
	Jane Wades was in excellent physical shape - and clean.  Every day she'd
worked out at the upscale spa her husband had payed for.  She swam ten laps
around the pool, took aerobic classes on Wednesdays and Fridays and bathed in the
sauna.  She jogged a mile and a half every Saturday morning. She visited a
nutritionist periodically and consumed just the right number of calories.  She lay
nude in the sun poolside every other morning, weather permitting. As a result her
well-cared for body was about to supply the three savage killers with hours of
endurance. Her healthy physique would be able to withstand the most brutal torture
long after her frail suburban mind had given up.
	Stryker enjoyed raping and destroying such upper class women.  Their
bodies, excellently groomed, tanned and manicured were in top shape and he could
take his time with them, use them long and hard and get hours of limitless
pleasure from them.
	And the fact that they were often stupid and naive pleased him to no end as
well.  He felt that in some way he was bringing social justice down on these rich
tight cunts and their offspring.  Maybe the rich got richer and the poor got poorer
but in Stryker's basement the rich got fucked - savagely - ream-fucked - blood-
fucked. Here in this brightly lit underground room the Third World could count on
a crusader for their cause.  Not that Stryker gave a rat's ass about the poor and
oppressed - He was a mercenary - preferring rich cunt to poor - but ultimately
taking whatever was easily available.  If the scales tipped in favor of justice now and
then so much the better but it was not something Stryker really set out to
accomplish.  Sometimes it was just fun to play Robin Hood.
	Like now.
	He smiled as he slammed into Jane Wade's cunt.
	Rich fuck-pig.
	She was giving his big cock a nice workout.
	Today Stryker was running the full social gamut from low streetwalker scum
to upper class bitchmeat - from middle-aged pussy to middle-school peach fuzz - Oh
yeah - He was looking forward to those twins.  He'd looked them over briefly while
they'd hung there unconscious as his men strung them up from the ceiling.  The
little angels were just perfect. They were suburban bunnies right out of the pages of
Good Housekeeping - right off some goddamn chewing gum commercial.  He
wanted them to see mom get what was coming to her and then he wanted mom to
watch them get theirs.  It was the kind of symmetry Stryker always enjoyed
working through.
	Mom first.
	Slow and easy Stryker slid in and out - in and out of Jane's now copiously
lubricating cuntsheath.
	Goddamn rich scumbag bitch.
	Lotta good your fuckin' money does you now.
	You and your double-the-fun babies.
	Jane Wade's eyes never left the killer's hooded face.
	She could see him rage silently against her and feel him batter her and punish
her with slamming thrusts of his powerful wide-hipped abdomen.
	She hurt all over from the clubbing.
	The men had clubbed her everywhere.
	Even her ankles and feet.
	They'd broken her inside, ruptured her, she could feel it, dull throbbing aches
in her kidneys and in her abdomen.  And her head still ached and pulsed where Jake
had slammed her with the lead pipe.
	"You gonna fuck er up the ass?" Doug asked dreamily, slow-stroking
himself watching Stryker.
	"Up the ass - in her mouth - down her fuckin' throat - I'm gonna cut holes
in her and fuck er guts too."
	"You hear that, pig?" Jake cackled. "Huh? You hear that? That's the way
we deal with fine upstanding ladies around here."
	"And then I'm gonna fuck her babies and make er watch," Stryker sneered.
	"Ohgg noooo!" Jane wailed.  The thought of that gargantuan penis plowing
into Holly's and Beth's little muffs was horrifying.
	"Oh yeahh -" Stryker spat pulling her toward him and hilting his stone-hard
rod in her to the balls - "Uhhhh - we're gonna tear those little puppies apart..."
	"Pleeease - aaowwwghh! - not the twins - not my children - "
	The girls sobbed and thrashed about helplessly as her mother suffered
Stryker's wrathful fucking and his venomous words.
	Jake and Doug swung around to paw and pinch at the children, laughing and
jeering.
	"Hell," Doug said turning to squint knowingly at Jane. "We've already
had lots of fun with your little kiddies back at the store, mom - lots of fun -"
	"Let us go!" Jane groaned trembling as Stryker's meat pistoned in and 
out of her. "Uhww - gghh - pleeease - let us goooo!"
	"Let you go?" Stryker asked leaning up close to her face.
	She could smell his hot tepid breath and feel its heat on her tear-soaked 
cheeks.
	"Not a chance in hell, bitch," he whispered, his arms wrapping around her
as he hugged her close and thrust his cock up deep into her womb.
	"Not a fuckin' chance."


5.

	Stryker slid out of Jane's cunt.
	He spit in her face then bending down he yanked the crap-covered club out
of her ass, circled around her and thrust his red meaty cock slowly up her
shit-smeared dilated bunghole.  She groaned weakly and sobbed, her head hanging,
eyes downturned as the killer's yellowish phlegm oozed off the tip of her nose.
Stryker grabbed her by her hair and half-twisted her face up and around pulling her
head back against his chest ordering her to open her mouth.  He hawked and spit
right in her lips as his men cheered.  He made her lick the brownish faeces off the
black wooden club and then he seized her small plump tits hard as he jacked himself
in and out of her pinching her fat bruised nipples making her squeal as his men
urged him on.
	Jane's head tilted to one side, slid back down, her eyes lost and almost vacant
as Stryker's spit and bits of shit drooled from her bloody lips.
	"Beat  the bitch while I fuck er," he told them and they did, moving in,
wielding their clubs, raising them high to smack her legs and belly and her
fucked cunt.
	Stryker beat her sides and back with his own spit-shiny club without slowing
the pace of his anal rape going up on his toes and gripping Jane's head by a fistful
of her short dark mane.
	She screamed in response to the renewed assault on her strong body.  She
yelled and thrashed helplessly against the ropes and cuffs that held her in
mid air and the smacking clubs provided a constant percussive ostinato to the
grunts and snarling insults of the men and to Stryker's savage growls of pleasure.
	The twins looked on in gagged horror.
	Their mother was being savagely violated, beaten, degradingly destroyed
right in front of them.
	This moment was inconceivably distant from their little romp in the mall,
from their little play-acting games at the photo machine. It was as if they'd fallen
through a crack in the fabric of space-time into another world or another dimension.
It was as if everything they'd ever known, the safe world they'd lived in until the
moment they'd stepped into the Venus Fly Trap fitting room, had ceased to exist
and a new irrational and traumatic reality had replaced it, obliterating all
traces of what was there before.
	Stryker saw that in their eyes - the inability to cope - the helpless terror -
and he welcomed it - he feasted on it.  This was what he lived for: the
rapacious destruction of female meat - the savage torture of children - the
killing - the blood - the screams. 
	He raised up one hand to stop the clubbing of the dangling woman and
slid slowly out of her creamy hot rectal tunnel.
	He circled around and stood in front of her.
	"I'm gonna fuck your throat, scumbag," he told her bluntly, staring down
into her upturned face.  "I'm gonna gag-fuck you.  Maybe if you do a nice job
on me and my men I'll let your girls go.  Think you got what it takes?"
	She stared at him stupidly and then slowly nodded.
	Stryker saw a faint spark of understanding and of hope gleam in her sad eyes.
	Dumb-ass cunt.
	He was going to enjoy snuffing it out.
	They let down the rope that held her wrists and uncuffed her ankles so that
she slid down to kneel before her captors.
	Stryker released her arms from the overhead cuffs and told her to put her
hands behind her back.
	She obeyed silently staring up at him, his long meaty shaft casting a 
shadow across her cheeks and forehead.
	Jane Wades had performed fellatio few times in her life.  She knew that
men loved it but couldn't bring herself to get over the disgust, even if it
was with her own husband.  Now she knew she needed to get over her negative
feelings.  She knew Stryker wasn't going to go easy on her.  And there was
a distant chance she could get him off and bargain for the lives of her children
maybe her own life.  She'd have to get all three men off and do it convincingly.
And now, up close to Stryker's immense prick, she wondered if she could
even get her lips around it.
	"Kiss it, bitch," he growled.
	He was still gripping the club he'd used on her bruised battered body and
she was afraid of angering him for fear that he'd just club her head and face
with it and finish her.
	Stryker had positioned himself so that she would have to lean forward toward
him and her daughters would have a clear line of sight.  Hanging from the ceiling
wide-eyed and duct-tape gagged they would have to watch the continuing 
humiliation of their lovely mother.
	The twins helplessly watched as Jane pursed her lips and gently cupped the
gleaming head of her captor's erection.  It was a tentative move and she backed
away almost immediately.
	"C'mon, bitch," Stryker snarled. "Kiss me like you love me."
	Jane closed her eyes and leaned forward again.  The sour smell of the cruel
man filled her nostrils as she smeared her lips on his piss-slit but she kissed the
tatooed manflesh passionately clinging in her mind to the slender chance that she
might please this monster and save her babies.
	"That's a little better," he told her as she backed off to look up at him,
eyes half opened.
	"That's right. You keep on looking at me. I like that."
	Stryker then gripped Jane's head by her hair with his free hand and pulled
her back to his meat-shaft.
	"Now open wide for chunky," he said softly.
	She did. Wider than ever before in her life.
	"Mmmmm," Stryker moaned as the head of his shit-slimed prick disappeared
into Jane Wades' warm wet mouth.  She could barely fit the knobby crown of
his impressive organ in her lips. She pressed her tongue to his piss-slit and
bobbed her head back and forth.
	He put the club down on the wooden table next to him and yanked her off
his cock to slap her hard across the face.
	"Not good enough, cunt," he snarled. "Want to try again?"
	She nodded desperately.
	He put an end to her nodding with another fierce slap and pulled her to his
prick.
	This time he stuffed almost two inches of meat into her mouth before she
began to wince.  Streams of spittle skittered out of the edges of her lips
and up his thick shaft.  Jane's face flushed as she gagged and her eyes teared up
but she refused to back off trying instead to impale herself further on Stryker's
long shaft.
	"That's nice, pig," he told her, smiling down on her. "Very nice. It shows
you're really trying. You get an A' for effort."
	Doug and Jake guffawed as they continued to masturbate without skipping a
beat..
	Again Stryker yanked Jane off his prick and slapped her viciously twice,
forehand and backhand.
	"Ahnnnhhh!" Jane gasped drooling spit and precum down her chin and on
to her thighs.
	Beth and Holly looked on in horror.
	Jake and Doug jerked off hard as they watched their boss put the bitch
through her paces.  They were eager to get their turns with the kneeling captive.
	Again Stryker pulled Jane to his full up-hooked erection and thrust nearly
seven of his fourteen inches into her pushing the head of his meat into her
tight throat hole as she audibly gagged, choked, coughed and grunted, white
gobs of spit spilling from her mouth and nostrils, her eyes wildly pleading with
her tormentor for release, her lips stretched to their limit. The killer pushed
inward and he could feel the suction in Jane's sealed trachea on his cockhead as her
lungs tried to draw air.
	"Mmmmm," Stryker groaned.
	"Yeahh," Doug grunted jerking off faster.
	"Choke the fuckin' cunt," Jake urged.
	Stryker kept his cock buried in Jane's gullet watching her face go darker
and darker and her eyes start to roll back then he yanked her off his meat and
slapped her repeatedly.
	"Still not fucking good enough," he shouted down at her. "You hear me?
Not - fucking - good - enough -"
	"Here," he snarled shoving his gagging captive toward Doug and stepping
aside. "You guys try.  See if you can get this stupid cunt to do something right."
	The now hooded buzz-haired blonde had strong stubby limbs and a spiraling
tattoo around his left bicep.  He grabbed Jane by her hair and yanked her up
between his legs before she could fall to her side.
	Doug's cock was half as long as Stryker's though still bigger than anything
Jane Wades ever had to deal with.
	The stocky store clerk stood over the youthful suburban mom and slapped
her flushed face a couple of times gripping her long dark hair to keep her from
tipping over.  He had enjoyed fucking her while she'd lain unconscious back at the
Venus Fly Trap now he was looking forward to feeling that pretty mouth on his
rampant erection.
	"Take me, cunt," he whispered bringing her to his meat.
	She looked up at him lost as she closed her lips around him.
	With most of his cock in her mouth, Doug began to face-fuck
Jane Wades for all she was worth.
	"C'mon, bitch," he urged. "You wanna save your babies don't ya?"
	Jake laughed as he watched their helpless captive's fellate his partner, her tits
bouncing on her chest.
	Women looked so servile, so stupidly accepting when they sucked cock.
	Like his partner and his boss Jake hated women.
	Jake loved to watch the young women trying on clothes from the shadows
behind the one way mirror at the store.  Burly and muscular with long black hair to
the middle of his back like a rock-and-roll musician Jake often masturbated as the
unsuspecting females posed for him in the skimpy faddish outfits that were the
store's main fare. But Jake especially loved it when that blinking light went off on
the wall and the mirror slid up toward the ceiling.  That meant that Doug had
cleared a target for a takedown, a process which involved checking surveillance
monitors out on the mall corridors to be sure that the target was unaccompanied
and making sure the store outside was empty.
	Jake hated females with a vengeance and his weapon of choice for the
knockout was the lead pipe.  On occasion he'd used his bare hands, sending
the little bitches out with a couple of upper cuts to the jaw. Once he'd used
a large carpenter's hammer but he'd ended up shattering the young cunt's skull
and killing her on the spot.  And though Doug and he had enjoyed double-fucking
the dead  teenage blonde who breathed her last as they pounded their cocks into her
simultaneously, double-fucking her pitilessly, they didn't score any money from
Stryker who wanted his girls to be delivered at least alive if not in full posession
of all their faculties.
	Now Jake stepped up close to Doug, standing over Jane Wades, waiting for
his turn to push his fat white prick deep into the pretty mom's drooling mouth.  The
kneeling beaten woman was already frenetically and noisily choking, gobs of spit
mixed with blood drooling down her chin.
	While his men concentrated on the kneeling captive Stryker turned his
attention to the suspended twins.
	He paced slowly around them inspecting them, studying them.
	They seemed even more beautiful now than when he'd first seen them -
absolutely and impeccably lovely, radiant with youth.
	He ran his fingers down and through their long silky hair, down their sweat-
glossed backs from their shoulderblades to the swell of their buttcheeks and back up
to grip their slender fragile shoulder-bones.  While the girls twitched and trembled
nervously to his touch he let his hard hands roam over their bellies, down into their
nearly hairless pussy mounds.  He stroked, pinched and squeezed their budding
titties. He smiled at them predatorially.  He cupped and squeezed their small vaginas
which were swollen red and feverishly hot from the rape back at the store earlier
that night.  He stroked their legs right down to their bound ankles and their
small perfectly-arched bare feet.
	As she sucked Doug's cock, choked and noisily gulping for air, Jane watched
Stryker as he obscenely caressed her naked children.  Goose bumps of terror
raced up and down her body.  The way Stryker's cruel green eyes ogled the
bound suspended bodies of the twins made Jane feel empty inside - made her
realize that they were all going to die at the hands of these men, no matter
what she did.
	Jake now moved in, both men tugging at her hair pulling her alternately
from one cock to the other, using her as if she was nothing but a cheap
street hooker or a slut in a fuck video.  They slapped her and as they worked
themselves up with her occasionally punched her juicy tits and choked her with their
hands.  Then they began to club her shoulders and arms and her back as they
fucked her upturned face.  Somehow she managed to keep her hands behind her
submissively as she'd been told.  She made no effort to escape or fight her
attackers.  Under the onslaught of masculine violence Jane Wades had already
surrendered, as most women in similar circumstances often do, with complete and
abject submission.
	Stryker continued to toy with the twins yanking the duct tape gags from
their faces to pull the rags from their mouths and thrust his fingers past their
lips forcing the terrified girls to lick and suck his hard calloused digits. He yanked on
their soft toussled manes which now clung to their sweaty backs, pinched their
sensitive ears and slapped their cheeks bringing tears of pain to their eyes.  He liked
the sweet clean smell that emanated from them and he went up on his toes to smear
his lips on their angelic faces as they squealed out their protests - he gripped their
upflung arms to keep them in place, rubbing his hard erect meat on their bellies and
thighs spanking their firm buttocks harshly. Wet with their spit he called them
names, growled at them, whispered in their ears - used words they did not even
know or understand but which made them feel dirty and frightened, made them feel
that maybe what  was happening was somehow their fault - maybe if they'd just
gone to the front of the mall to wait for their mother that night and not to that
Venus Fly Trap store none of this would ever have happened.  Stryker made the
girls kiss him back using the same words he'd used with their mother - "Kiss me
like you love me - yeahh - like you love me you little shit - mmm - yeahhh - that's
better - little cocksucker - again - that's right! Again - mmmm - yeah -"
	The girls complied with his demands without hesitation, their submission, like
their mother's, reliably predictable.
	Both of them were terrified out of their wits, just the way Stryker liked it.
Females were most attractive when they were bound, helpless and afraid. When
they gave themselves up.
	Torturing mature women gave Stryker deep pleasure but little girls -
mmmm - little girls took him to a whole new level.
	These fucking twins were awesomely perfect. They were driving him to
an intensity he rarely achieved.
	He took their faces by their chins forcing them to look down at him.
	"Has either one of you been fucked - ever?"
	They tried to shake their heads restricted by his gripping hands.
	"Don't lie to me."
	"No, sir - no - we're not lying," Beth muttered.
	"You better not be you little weasel, because I'll know if you've been lying to
me.  I'll know. I'm gonna fuck the both of you and I expect your pussies to be
tight as a goddamn baby's asshole."
	Jake and Doug laughed obscenely.
	"Now, boss," Jake chuckled as he made Jane Wades lick his balls.  "You
know those bunnies are not virgins anymore.  Doug and I put an end to that back at
the store."
	Obviously Stryker had known but he wanted the girls and their mother to
find out about it in the most obscene manner possible, from the violators
themselves, and the killer now watched the effect of Jake's words on their
expressions.Their brows arched and tears filled their eyes.  On the ground between
Jake and Doug, her mouth stuffed full of Doug's hard meat Jane Wades sobbed
loudly.
	"Aww, now," Doug told his kneeling captive.  "Now you know they were
gonna lose it sooner or later, mom, a couple of pretty fillies like them.  I wouldn't be
at  all surprised if some of the boys at school had already given it a try."
	"You hear that, girls?" Stryker said, still gripping their faces. Their warm
tears trickled down their chins and into the palms of his hands.  "Any of the boys
try to get in your pants?"
	Beth nodded slowly.
	The men laughed.
	"Haa - see?" Doug cackled. "See that mom?  It wouldn't a taken long.
Right Jake?"
	Jake now pried Jane from Doug's cock and brought her to his as she
whimpered and looked up at them.
	"Hell no.  Two pretty little sluts like them.  Wasn't gonna be long at all,
mom.  And I gotta tell ya - they were reeeal nice.  Reeeal tight.  Nobody got
to em before me.  I was the first." His long dark hair bobbed around his
big shoulders.
	"And I'll be next," Stryker said looking into the twins faces
menacingly.  "I'm gonna rape both of you until you can't walk straight."
	Jake gripped Jane's head on both sides, his fingers twisted in her dark hair.
	"Beat er, Doug," he growled. "Beat this pretty momma bitch while I fuck
her goddamn throat. Make er hurt!"
	Stryker released the twins and turned to watch the violence now being
heaped upon their luckless mother.
	Doug had circled around behind the kneeling captive and he had begun
to slam her back with his club.
	"Pull her arms up," Doug shouted at Jake.
	Jake reached down and yanked Jane's arms up by the wrists as he slammed
his massive cock down her sputtering throat.
	"Take it, bitch!" he spat. "Take it!"
	Doug pounded Jane's sides and spine and shoulderblades with his club as
he stroked himself.
	"Ghh! Nggg! Auwwggg!"  Jane Wades grunted, suffocated by the cock
stuffed in her throat and bouncing on her knees in response to the savage clubbing.
	"Shitt!" Stryker said hoarsely.  "You fuckin' guys are putting me in
a killing mood."
	"Yeahh!" Doug replied now clubbing Jane's thighs and asscheeks.  The
kneeling woman tried to get to her feet but Doug slid down to kneel on her foot-
soles and hold her to the floor as he beat her firm legmeat while his partner held her
arms high above her head.
	Jane Wades made ugly raspy gagging sounds and suddenly puked up
brownish bile on Jake's cock.
	"Yeahh!" Jake shouted approvingly gripping the brunette by her hair and
yanking her head back to look down at her as the slimy gush dripped down
her neck, off her chin and on to her club-bruised thighs.
	"YEahhh!" Doug echoed.
	Jake pulled Jane's gaping mouth back on to his prick.
	"Swallow me down, cunt," he growled fiercely. 
	Now Stryker moved in and began using his club on the defenseless woman as
Jake brutally throat-fucked her. Stryker alternated blows with Doug, beating Jane's
back and shoulders and upstretched arms while Doug focused on her legs.  The
harsh blows snapped Jane's arm at the elbow and cracked her right knee bone.
	Holly and Beth kicked in midair and pleaded shrilly with the men to stop. 
	After a few minutes Jane's eyes rolled back in her head and she sagged
weakly.
	Finally she slumped to the floor and lay at the feet of the three killers, gasping
weakly, blood dribbling from her nose and mouth, her legs and arms twitching
erratically.
	"You killed her!" Beth wailed. "You killed my momma!"
	Stryker turned to her, slitted eyes gleaming, a weird grin stretching his thing
lipped mouth.
	"Not yet, sweetheart," he said softly. "Not quite yet."
	"Tie mom by her neck to the post," the killer said turning to Jake and Doug. 
"Let's bring the four bitches from cell ten in here.  Lets show these pigs what
killing really looks like."
	"Those cunts are still alive?" Jake asked leaning down to pull Jane Wades
by her ankle to the wooden post across from the suspended twins.
	"Thought you woulda taken care of them by now," Doug added.
	"I was saving them for the perfect moment -"
	He grinned malevolently.
	"And it doesn't get more perfect than this."


6.

	The victims in cell ten were a mixed group.
	There were two young prostitutes, Melanie and Jenny, two pretty pros that
had made the terminal mistake, like Rhonda/Mindy, the cunt Stryker had finished
off earlier, of responding to the killer's phone calls.  They'd come to him delivered
by his limmo driver, dressed in colorful whorish outfits, frilly and sexy, tacky and
cheap, just as the killer had requested.  They didn't keep the outfits on for long. 
The killer had made both females strip naked first and dance for him while he sat
back in a comfortable recliner in the luxurious living room of the mansion.  Then
he'd made them fuck each other on the carpeted floor at his feet.  When things got
serious he'd taken them down into the basement.
	Stryker had liked Melanie's mouth - she was a brown-skinned mulatto with
thick sensual lips glossed dark purple - and he'd enjoyed punching it bloody.  By
then both bitches were tied to wooden chairs in the cellar mascara, tears and blood
running down their cheeks as the killer warmed up on them. Stryker favored using
call girls as human punching bags and he'd beat both bitches until they'd puked,
pissed and shit themselves.
	There was a young seventeen year old runaway who called herself Monika. 
Stryker had picked her up on Seaside Highway early one evening.  By midnight the
slender short-haired bitch was hanging by her feet naked, electrodes clipped to her
tits and cunt, writhing to electrical jolts as she tasted the killer's collection of whips,
fiberglass canes and flogging chains.
	And there were two leftovers from the Venus Fly Trap from three
weeks earlier, two teenage girls, Randy a redhead fourteen year old and Francine, a
sweet-faced sixteen year old blonde.
	All of them had been savagely raped, beaten and tortured to the limits of their
endurance and beyond.  
	All of them were shaved bald and had metal hoop-rings pierced through
their nostrils. The hoops were inserted after a painful piercing through the cartilage
of the girls' noses with a heated crimping tool.
	Monika had had her cunt burned to a crisp and one tit cut off.  Stryker had
also fucked her up her tight asshole with a leather cock studded with sharp barbs.
	Melanie and Jenny, after the initial beating session had their clits cut out and
their nipples ripped off. A fitting second punishment for call-girls in Stryker's book,
after the relentless punching bag treatment.
	Randy, Francine and Melanie had had their toe nails and finger nails
removed and four of the girls had had their eardrums pierced and shattered.
	All of them were covered with multiple contusions, savage welts and dark
ugly bruises.
	They'd been kept barely alive in cell ten on a once a day ration of moldy
bread and water and they were forced to clean their own waste up off the cell floor
with their hands and sometimes with their mouths as Stryker moved among them
poking and stabbing them with a cattle prod before hosing them down with a high-
pressure nozzle and ordering them to serve him - five trembling coldly soaked
defeated victims on their knees licking his asshole and balls - licking his feet, up his
legs to his thighs and the entire length of his tatooed cock - each slave made to
swallow him down and please him in her throat before he jerked off and ejaculated
on their upturned faces and in their defeated eyes.
	Now they were about to become fodder for the killers, a warm-up
act for the destruction of Mrs. Wades and her pretty twin daughters.
	Jake and Doug brought the victims from cell ten to cell six leading them
on a chain-strand.  The fourteen year old Randy led the others, the chain
clip-hooked to her nose-ring, a shorter stretch of chain leading from a black dog-
collar around her neck to the girl immediately behind her, hooked to her nose-ring -
another strand leading from that girl's collar to the nose-ring of the girl behind her,
all five females forced to follow Jake's lead as he tugged Randy on the chain.
	Once in the room, Jake unclipped the chain strands releasing the girls from
each other.
	The emaciated, tortured victims didn't know what was coming.
	They looked around fearfully, huddled together. They stared at the suspended
twins and their neck-bound mother.  
	"Hey, are these five all there is? Wasn't there another bitch?" Doug asked.
	Stryker knew Doug was asking about the whore Rhonda.
	"That one's history," Stryker replied flatly as he opened the closet doors in
the wall at the opposite end of the room.
	He took three baseball bats from the cabinet.  They had been knowingly
customized for the use they were about to be put to - thick metal spikes protruded
from the thick end of each bat.
	The twins watched Stryker hand two of the clubs to Jake and Doug.
	"Oh God," Beth whispered softly.
	Slowly the three hooded killers circled the five victimized females.
	"Naa - naa -" Monika gasped.
	"They're gonna kill us," Rhondy squealed.
	Neck-bound and barely conscious Jane Wades pressed the palms of her hands 
and the heels of her feet against the concrete floor to raise herself slightly and relieve
the pressure of the rope around her throat.  Shooting pains travelled up her sprained
arm and cracked kneecap.  She winced and gasped for air.
	Dear Jesus, she thought, as she looked through squinting eyes at what was
happening in the room.  They're going to beat those poor girls with those
bats...they're going to kill them!
	"Pleeeease nooo!" Randy screamed.
	By then the three men had closed ranks around the group and they'd drawn
back to swing their clubs.
	Jane Wades shut her eyes tightly, mouth wide and cheeks flushed as she
fought to breathe, the choking rope tight around her neck.
	The twins averted their faces.
	One of the victims screamed wildly.
	The whoosh of the spiked clubs was loud in the small cell.
	But the meaty thumps and babbling cries that followed were louder.
	Repeatedly the killers slammed their clubs into nude defenseless whoremeat. 
There was no holding back.  Their rage was given full vent. They snarled and
shouted their vehemence as they pounded the females, gouging womanskin with the
spiked weapons, breaking arms and ribcages.
	Blood spattered the walls and ceiling.
	It spattered the twins hotly.
	And their neck-bound mom.
	The luckless slaughter-women shrieked.
	They raised their arms and mutilated hands to shield themselves and their
arms and hands were slashed and broken.
	The clubs landed with heavy crushing thumps that winded the already weak
females, knocked them down to the ground, tore muscle cartilage and bone.
	Randy, the fourteen year old, shrieked as both her legs were snapped out
from under her and she toppled to the ground.  All three killers pounded her
upper body as she lay writhing.
	Melanie toppled against Jenny and both women were brought down
under a hail of terrible blows that gashed their bellies open and shattered
their collar bones, shoulders, arms and spines.
	The killers loved this free-for-all killing.  It released all their primal fury.
	Closing in ever tighter they rained down blows on the bald heads of the
victims, cracking their skulls open, smashing their faces to a pulp.
	Francine tried to crawl away but Stryker grabbed her by the ankle.
	"Going somewhere, pig?" he snarled and he pulled her to the center of the
room to club-shatter her knees and hips. He swung with all his strength bringing the
blood-smeared weapon down on the young girl's back smashing her spinal cord. 
Blood shot from her cunt and out of her mouth as she groaned arms opening wide
then reaching upward.  Stryker shouted and brought the club down on the top of
her head as she lay on the floor smashing her brain to a pulp and killing her
instantly.  Then he kicked her legs open and slammed the spiked head of the club
hard and deep into her cunt to rip it out smeared with womb-blood, the killer
roaring victoriously, wielding his smeared club high, climbing up to stand on top of
the butchered youth, right on her smashed-in spine, the killer's toes digging into her
chunky buttcheeks.
	Jake and Doug double-teamed Randy as she rose weakly on her broken
knees.  They busted up the young teen's ribs and shoulderblades then dealt several
killing blows to the head and face.
	Then as Randy toppled face forward to the floor all three men attacked the
now broken victims with murderous intent.
	After nearly four minutes of pounding on their captives the killers ceased
their attack breathing heavily their strong manly bodies gleaming with sweat.
	The women lay in a heap of murdered meat.
	Incredibly after a minute or so Monika's arms twitched and she lifted
her battered bloody head off the floor.
	"Wwgggg -" she gasped.  She seemed the only one of the five left alive.
	Gently Stryker reached down and hooked his finger in her nose ring.
	"See what happens to little runaways?" he said softly.
	Her eyes were swollen almost shut and a constant flood of bloody mucous
poured from her nostrils and mouth.
	Now tugging with more strength Stryker lifted her smashed face up to rub
his balls on her.
	"Phghhgghpp -" she groaned inchoately.
	"Shhh -" Stryker hissed.  "There's nothing left for you to say."
	He pressed his balls against her lips and looked up at his companions.
	"Step up, guys - Let's take this little runaway cunt out."
	Reaching up as Jake and Doug moved in Stryker pulled a suspension chain
down from a pulley in the ceiling and hooked Monika to it by her nose-ring.
	As he pulled on the take-up strand the half-dead girl was hauled up by her
head toward the ceiling, broken arms dangling at her sides, broken feet dragging
across the floor, away from the pile of carcasses behind her.
	Jane Wades was watching.  
	Though she'd shut her eyes at first now she found it impossible to look away.
	"N-no -" she gasped weakly.  "No."
	The killers ignored her.
	The whoosh of the clubs was fierce.
	Monika managed only one whimpering cry before the life was pounded
out of her.  Her ribs were clubbed into her lungs.  The club-spikes gouged her
guts out, ripping them from her in colorful strands and Stryker's club, precisely
aimed swung into her neck, gouging, ripping three times before one solid blow
against the side of Monika's head tore it right off her tattered neck so that it was
sent swinging on the pulley chain as the body plummeted to the floor spewing blood
from the gash-hole at the top of the broken spinal column.
	Each man took a savage swing at the dangling head sending it back and
forth across the room like some festive pi¤ata ball until finally it tore free of the
nose-hook and smacked against a wall and bounced across the floor to end up just
below the suspended twins. Beth and Holly began to scream shrilly and repeatedly
in horror as Monika's dead battered face stared up at them through bloody eye-slits.
	After a few minutes the twins stopped screaming and hung there sobbing.
	The men were covered with blood and bits of flesh and bone and
whore guts.
	Francine lay dead and broken in the center of the room.  Off to the left
the bodies of Melanie, Jenny and Randy lay - an obscene heap of broken
bloody whoremeat.  And at Stryker's feet was Monika's headless body, twisted
and torn.
	"That was fucking nice," Stryker said.
	"Shit, yeah," Doug replied.
	"Fuckin' beautiful," Jake added.
	"Now, listen up," Stryker said to his men. "I want you to take Jane as far as
you can go without finishing her. I'm gonna take her babies to the shower-room
and play with them for a while - I think I'll probably end up taking them out on the
beach in the morning...after we reunite them with mom again..."
	"You thinking of an outdoor takedown, boss?" Doug asked.
	"Maybe just a bit of a competition between sisters," Stryker answered.
	"And mom?"
	"Mom's not gonna live to see daylight."



7.

	Jane Wades didn't know what was worse, the fact that she'd just heard
her own death sentence or the fact that Stryker had let Holly and Beth down off
their suspension and was leading them out of the cell.   Where was he taking
her babies? What was in that shower room'?  No matter how bad it was to know
and see it was a thousand times to not know and not see.
	Stryker looped rope around Beth's neck and then Holly's and then he'd
tugged on it and led the staggering twins out the door.
	Jake and Doug now came for Jane.
	She was going to be taken as far as she could go.
	How far was that exactly? Jane thought.  How far would these savage
hooded sadists take her?  She'd just seen them slaughter five helpless victims
just to excite themselves.
	"Let's fuck this pig, Jake," Doug growled as he leaned down to untie the
rope that held Jane to the post by her neck.  "I mean - shit - let's really
FUCK her."
	"I'm down for it, man," Jake said thickly.  He stood over Jane jerking off
with one hand and cupping his balls in the other, his strong legs wide apart,
his long hair bobbing.
	Both men were dripping with the blood of the butchered victims.
	"Let's fuck er til she bleeds," Doug hissed.
	"Til she bleeds, man," Jake echoed.
	Doug took Jane by a fistful of hair and dragged her away from the post
to the middle of the room kicking Francine's carcass out of the way to
toss the mother of the Wades twins down on the bloody gut-strewn floor.
He slid down over her grabbed her by her head again and yanked her back
toward him as he lay on the floor.
	"Get on my cock you piece of shit," he ordered.
	Jane staggered up on her arms as he slid under her.  She was face up, her
hands slipping on the blood-wet concrete.
	Doug's cock was standing straight up like a flagpole.
	"Get your ass on it and ride me," he told her.
	"P-please -" Jane stammered. "I-I've - I've ne-never -"
	"Shut the fuck up. There's always a first time. Do it."
	Jake strolled calmly toward them still jerking off and cupping his balls.
	He stood over Jane Wades as she forced herself down on to Doug's hard
meat shaft.
	At first her rectal muscle wouldn't yield, but Doug's prick was slippery-lubed
with whoreblood and when he took Jane by her hips and drew her down the
hard knobby crown squeezed inward and pushed into her anal passage.
	She gave out a sobbing cry and as she did Jake strode up to her and pushed
his long shaft in her open mouth grabbing her head to fuck her face.  After a
few in and out strokes in her throat Jake sank down to his knees between
his partner's outflung thighs and put his steely shaft to Jane Wade's cuntslit.
	"Fuckin' whore," Jake growled hoarsely.  "You think you're so fuckin'
perfect - don't you? Think you're fuckin' rich shit don't stink.  Stupid goddamn
bitch.  We're gonna kill you, cunt.  You and your pretty little twin babies. You
heard the boss. You won't even see daylight. We're gonna kill you all fuckin'
DEAD."
	And with the last word he pushed hard into Jane Wade's already ravaged
cunt.
	Both hooded men now plowed into their helpless beaten victim, fucking her
savagely, unrestrainedly, surrounded by the dead bodies of the women they'd
just butchered.
	Jane cried and pleaded with them to stop but her cries and pleas went weaker
and weaker and after a few minutes the only sound in the cell was the wet
slithery sound of hard cock pounding into female meat - and after a short while
the smack of their fists and her whimpering sobs as they began to punch her
as hard as they could.


	Stryker led the twins to the shower room, a forty by forty chamber
lined with chrome spigots aimed downward from high on the black-tiled walls.
Four tiled benches formed a square that framed off the center of the room and
in the middle there were three large drainage plates on the floor that took the run-
off water. The floors were designed to tilt toward the center of the room so that the
water would run into those drains. The ceiling and floors were tiled as well and the
room was lit by recessed overhead halogen spotlights.  As soon as the killer entered
and led the two girls into the dark chamber the spigots automatically began to spray
down hot steamy water.
	The room reeked of pungent humidity other harsh odors the girls had never
smelled before.  Bitchblood had been spilled here.  Females had suffered and died
here.
	The killer led the frightened neck-roped  children into the center of the 
warm mist and soon he and his victims were soaking wet.
	He unwound the soggy rope from their necks and reached out to the wall to
take two slabs of slimy white soap from a recessed shelf in the black tiled wall.
	"Bathe me," he instructed handing them the soap.
	They looked up at him in a daze.
	"Bathe me - soap me down - rub the soap into me all over - come on -
I didn't bring you in here to stand there. You -" he pointed at Holly. "- on your
knees - do my legs and my cock.  And you -" he glared at Beth. "My back
and my ass and my shoulders - Got it?"
	The girls nodded and quickly moved toward Stryker to do his bidding.
	There would be no resistance and no disobedience.
	They'd just seen this monster and his men destroy five defenseless victims
and they knew to expect nothing less if they did not obey.
	Stryker spread his strong legs open and stroked himself as the twins began
to bathe him.  From his free hand the choke rope still dangled. He was sure he'd 
find some use for it.  But for now he just allowed the sensations of the soft
tentative hands moving on his skin, soaping him, gently scrubbing and kneading
his hard flesh to obliterate all thinking.
	Holly's hands reached higher up his thighs and she hesitated as she
reached his groin area.
	The killer had his eyes closed and his head tipped back.
	He now dropped his gaze to the lovely girl before him and he stopped
jerking off, his massive organ cleaving the air teased by the soft rain of hot
water from the shower spigots.
	"Go ahead," he told Holly. "Do me. Do me nice, bitch. Nice and slow."
	Behind him Beth was gently rubbing soap into his shoulderblades and 
into his firm hard rump.
	Holly reached up and took Stryker's huge cock in her soapy hands.
	She was amazed by how hard it was.  It felt like a wooden sculpture.
	She rubbed the soap bar slowly and gingerly all along its length.
	Stryker had again closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
	He enjoyed nothing more than to be bathed by females he was about to
destroy.  These little bitches were going to give him some really good orgasms,
maybe even memorable ones.  As their hands worked the soap into his skin
his mind slipped back to the slaughter of an eight year old child in an abandoned
school building.  That had been nearly two years earlier yet it still made him
rock-hard to think about it.  He had cut and bled that little bunny - he had made her
call him God and punished her to his heart's content and the memory of her shrill
cries as he'd torn her apart echoed in his memory. 
	He'd killed that child in the shower room that adjoined the boys' lockers in
the abandoned building. Shortly after that slaughter he'd had this chamber built
replacing two of the basement cells.  He often killed here under the hot cleansing
warmth, womanblood and gore pouring into the drains as he emptied himself
into dying bitchmeat.  Since the room had been built he'd dispatched twelve
females here. The twins would not be added to that list.  He wanted something more
interesting for them. 
	"Stroke it," he told Holly peering down at her, taking her hand by her wrist
and guiding it back and forth on his meat. "Like this - mmm - slow - slower -
that's better -  rub my balls with the soap - ahh - that's good - very nice -"
	He turned his head to the right to speak over his shoulder at Beth.
	"You - rub the soap between the cheeks of my ass.  - Yesss -  I want to
feel your hand there - all the way down in there - touch my asshole - come on -
ahhh - that's a good girl - get some soap on your finger - get it all slimy - mmm -
kiss my back - get that soap all over your mouth and face -" To Holly -
"Keep rubbing me girl.  Lean toward me.  Rub the tip on your face - all
over your face, girl - don't stop rubbing that soap on my balls, you hear me?
Stupid little bitch.  All over your fucking face.  In your hair too." To Beth.
"I want you to put your fingers up my asshole - yes, up in there - don't
stop kissing my back!  Lick that soap and water off me. Goddamn both
you little whores.  Ahhh - shittt - put those fingers up in me -" To Holly.
"Put your mouth on the tip of it....don't be afraid it won't bite you...soft...
your lips are so soft...you're so goddamn pretty..." To Beth - "Work
those fingers up and down - ahhhh - yeahhh - in and out - in and out -
all soapy - mmmm - just like that, baby - just like that - you just keep doing that..."
To Holly - "And you lick - yeah - I said lick it - lick it all around the -
ohhhh - yessss - that's right - goddamn you..." To Beth - "You - get your
fingers out of my ass and come around here - yeah - kneel down there
next to your sister - shitt - keep licking me! I didn't tell you to stop...
shit you're both so fucking pretty - you - start licking me too - all around -
mmmmm - all over it  - up and down - ohh shitt - kiss each other with my
cock between you - yesss - Jesus fucking Christ -"
	The girls followed his commands quickly, without hesitation.  They
knelt before their killer now soaking wet, their long hair plastered
against their faces, shoulders and backs, their eyes blinking from the
constant cascading spray on their faces.
	He studied them. Wet and gleaming in the glow of the overhead lights they
were breath-taking.  It was incredible that such prize-meat as this
had just walked into his trap.  Just strolled right in, drawn by the faddish
clothes and empty-headed fashions.  Stryker had enjoyed
calling the store Venus Fly Trap and though most of his victims from
that enterprise were like sweet little fruit flies these two were a pair
of glowing butterflies.  It was going to be fun ripping their little
wings off.
	"Soap my belly," he growled at them softly. "Get it all sudsy - ahhh -
and keep licking - all up and down - down in my balls - yeah - ahhh - yeahh
down there - lick - lick - lick - goddamn you -"
	He was going to make the twins suck his cock, one at a time,
but he was taking his sweet time getting there - and why the fuck not? Getting there
was always half the fun.
	"Rub the soap on my thighs - mmm - cup my balls in your hands - both of
you - squeeze - ahhhh - yesss - get in there and lick my balls for a while -
both of - ohhhhh - shitt - goddamn you - push your lips against them - uhhh -"
	He made them lick his heavy ballsacs until his cock hooked upward, hard hot
meat throbbing and slick.
	Then he wrapped the soggy stretch of rope around Beth's neck and drew
her out in front of him.  He ordered Holly to lie down on the floor
with her head between her kneeling sister's thighs.
	"Lick her pussy while she sucks my cock - got it?"
	"Yes, sir," Holly replied staring up at the giant above her, her eyes at the
base of Beth's belly.
	"You slide down and sit on her face," Stryker told the neck roped sister.
	Beth did not respond so he tugged on the rope and as she looked up at him
choking and wide-eyed he slapped her face hard.
	"I said sit on her face!" he growled.
	As she struggled to obey, moving her legs apart to sink her muff down
against Holly's lips, he pinched her nostrils shut.  When she opened
her mouth wide to breathe he moved in and shoved his cockhead her small mouth.
	"Suck," he told her staring down at the young teen meanly.
	Beth winced with the effort of taking his enormous penis in her lips and
trying to breathe.  At the same time Holly's tongue began to lap obediently against
her sister's pink slit.  Beth was confused by the sensations that began to pulse
through her.  The fear was overwhelming but the sensation of being suffocated
with Stryker's big penis while Holly's tongue danced against her clitoris was
oddly pleasurable.  Her arms sagged to her sides and she gave herself to the
sadist, her features lax and accepting, her eyes going expressionless.  Stryker
smiled and tugged on the choke-rope working as much of his cock as he could
into the young girl's mouth.
	"You little scumbag," he said hoarsely, his hips gyrating slowly.  "You
like it - don't you? You fuckin' like it..."
	He took his cock out of her mouth and rubbed her cheeks with it - her
eyes - her forehead - slowly tracing her pretty features -
	"...sweet little scumbag..."
	Holly moaned softly as Beth's buttocks pressed down into her titties.
	Beth took the opportunity to gasp for breath, drooling and dizzy before
Stryker shoved his cock back into her lips grabbing her wet hair to push
himself in to the limit, her mouth stretched wide.  She made urgent squealy
noises and her little hands pressed uselessly against his strong thighs as if
to push away but he just held her there and used her, hot water dripping down
his body, his cock tasting of man-musk and soap.
	Then he yanked her back by the choke-rope and slapped her.
	"Enough.  Its your sister's turn."
	Beth quickly lay on the ground and Holly rose up on her knees, straddling
her sister's head as Stryker's rope wound around her neck and brought her to his
engorged staff.  Her face was flushed red from being trapped between Beth's
thighs and she opened her mouth as wide as she could for Stryker's prick.
	"Good bitch," Stryker snarled pulling her on to his cock.  "Such a 
goooood little bitchh..."
	Soon he was choking and slapping Holly who seemed as confused by
the conflicting sensations of mouth rape and cunnilingus as her sister had been.
	Stryker studied the young girl's face. He was now starting to see the
small differences between the twins.  He'd already noticed that Beth had
a small mole on her left thigh noticeably absent on Holly's leg.  Now he
saw that their facial structure was slightly different, enticingly similar but
not quite the same. 
	His balls ached for release as he pounded his cock into Holly's mouth
grabbing her soaked hair and her roped neck to fuck her head.  Below on the
floor Beth whined and flailed her tongue obediently against her kneeling
sister's pussy.
	Stryker's orgasm was building. He was breathing deeply, biting his lip
and grunting.  His legs were spread apart as he tugged on the choke rope
around Holly's neck.  He felt new waves of sadistic energy building inside him,
searching for release, pulsing waves that moved up his back and down his
shoulders into his arms - down his thighs.
	He yanked on Holly's rope and hauled her up off her sister choking,
her hands reaching up at the rope around her neck.
	He slammed his fist into her smooth belly and she twisted forward, her
toes slipping on the wet tiles as Beth looked up from the floor in confusion.
	Stryker grabbed Holly by her hair and slapped her face then punched
her belly again.  Then he whipped her around and slammed her down on to
the tiled bench beside him on her back.
	"Just fuckin' lay there," he roared.
	He reached down, grabbed Beth by her hair and spun her toward the
bench.
	"Get on top of her. Put your fuckin' face in her pussy and put your pussy on
her face."
	Beth rushed to obey the savage commands mounting the slippery black
tiled surface to crawl on to Holly's body.
	Holly was sobbing and gasping for air.
	Stryker leaned down over her face.
	"Spread your legs for your sister, bitch!"
	Trembling visibly, Holly obeyed and Beth's face swooped down between her
sister's thighs as she lay on top of her sibling pushing her own wet almost hairless
muff against Holly's pouting lips.  The girls' skin gleamed wetly under the pale
yellow glow of the halogen lights as they formed an obscene sixty-nine on the black
tiled bench.
	Stryker sneered and stroked himself as he watched them.  Both of them
were crying now, slippery white bodies wrenched with sobs.
	He pushed Beth's face down into Holly's pussy.
	"Get your fuckin' face in there - lick that cunt, you little shit - LICK IT!"
	And he grabbed Holly's head by her hair to lift her face up into Beth's
girl-slit.
	"C'mon - Eat er! Do it like you mean it, you stupid little fuck! Both of you.
C'mon. Start eating cunt or I'll bring your momma in here and cut her fuckin'
head off right in front of you - you hear me!? Start eating each other like
the little whores you are or I'll kill your momma.  Swear to God I'll kill her
and make you eat her guts if you don't want to eat each other - yeahh - that's
right - that's better - much better -"
	Under Stryker's gruesome threats the girls began to do his bidding
pushing against each other, whimpering helplessly as he watched patiently,
slowly jerking off.  Slowly their awkward movements began to become more
fluid and graceful - their cries softened into gaspy moans -  Both girls spread
their thighs wide apart and began to lunge into each other, their wet skins squeaking
against the wet tiles.
	"Nice -"Stryker whispered softly. "Real fuckin' nice -"
	What Stryker didn't know but now vaguely suspected was that this was not
the first time the girls had done this.  He knew it was not uncommon for siblings
to explore their instincts - such behavior was specially true of twins.  For Beth
and Holly it had begun innocently one night three years before - a quiet moonlit
night in the middle of summer when their parents were already asleep.
	"You touch me," Beth had said breathlessly, laying back on the soft bed.
"You touch me and I'll touch you..."
	Holly had smiled, somewhat puzzled.
	"Touch me here, silly," Beth had said, her finger gently indicating the
soft v' between her thighs.
	"Oh,"Holly said. Seeing her sister's hand there had sent a shiver through her
and she giggled. "Ok," she said.
	Now what the sisters had learned to do back then - that which they'd done
only a few times, less as they'd gotten older and become ashamed about it, they did
for Stryker - they did it to keep him from killing their momma - they did it out of
terror - but after a while it began to feel just as nice as when they'd done it for no
reason at all - Holly and Beth surrendered guiltily to their youthful sexuality under
the hot spray of the shower spigots in the tiled chamber providing the depraved
woman-killer with new and unexpected pleasure.


	"Put your fuckin' arms down!" Jake shouted at Jane Wades.
	She straddled Doug's cock which pushed up into her bleeding cunt.
	Jake slashed at her tits with the studded dogwhip.
	Again her arms rose up instinctively to shield her welted breasts and
nipples from the punishing blows.
	"I said put your fuckin' arms down, cunt - or I'll cut em off you!"
	Doug yanked on her hair pulling her head back on to his shoulder.
	"You better do it," he growled in her ear as he pistoned his cock up into her.
"My buddy means what he says, pig."
	The beaten, terrified woman obeyed, her arms falling to her sides as she
bounced on Doug's lap and leaned back against the stocky blonde man's muscular
chest.  He'd sat on a wooden bench up against one of the cell walls and pulled her
down on to him.
	Both men had fucked her on the floor for nearly forty minutes ramming their
pricks deep, chafing her cunt and rectum, punching her belly and tits and
face.  One eye was swollen almost shut and her lips were bruised and bleeding,
her cheeks splotched.  Her right arm near the elbow and left knee had been cracked
by the pounding clubs earlier and they had begun to swell painfully.
	Viciously, Doug bit her neck and shoulders, now and then drawing blood,
making her scream, as he fucked her.
	He could have held her arms back but it was much more fun to have
her obey Jake - wild-eyed Jake who now swung the barbed dogwhip's thick
black tongues against the stupid cunt's meaty paps.
	Jane started to lift her arms again as the whip thudded against her but
instead she gripped Doug's meaty thighs underneath her.
	"Good girl," Doug whispered in her ear. "Take it - take it - take it -"
	Doug continued to grip her by her hair and bite her and fuck her while
Jake flogged her tits and belly with the studded dogwhip.
	She sobbed and pleaded for mercy but there was no mercy from the killers.
	The room stank of blood and butchered females. The carcasses of the victims
Stryker and his men had pounded to death lay where they'd fallen, Monika's
headless corpse just a few feet away, the poor girl's head still staring sightlessly up
at the dangling chains where the twins had been bound.
	Jane's suffering at the hands of Stryker's men was compounded by the
horror of not knowing where the sadistic killer had taken her children or what he
was doing to them. But her fear for the lives of her children blurred as her own pain
and terror overcame her.
	Doug's strong hands now rose to strangle her while Jake slashed dementedly
at her tits.
	"Yeahh!" Jake shouted as he swung down, swatting the studded tails into
Jane Wades' bleeding  mammary meat. "Yeahh - choke the fuckin' whore! Strangle
the fuckin' cunt!"
	Doug didn't let up on the pressure around her throat until her head began
to sag backward and her eyes roll up toward the ceiling - then he let her gasp for
breath while he rammed his cock up into her.  
	Jake's whip fell repeatedly across the front of her body in rhythmic
counterpoint to Doug's cock sliding in and out, reaming bitchcunt.
	Again Doug began to strangle her.
	"GGggg - naa -" she groaned weakly. 
	Doug's steely fingers gouged into her throat stopping her breath. She gagged
and her head swam dizzily and she chucked up a mouthful of bile which 
spewed from her swollen lips.
	The rusty taste of her own blood mixed with the acrid excretion from her
innards and her eyes bulged in their sockets as Doug squeezed knowingly watching
her closely, pounding his cock up into her.
	Jake's whip burned into her, each small stud scraping into her flesh.
	She was going to die here - she and the twins - it was a certainty now - there
was no changing it.
	She felt her muscles relax as she started to pass out, her legs dangling off the
edge of the wooden bench, bouncing against Doug's, her toes barely touching the
ground.  She was giving in, giving up, as her tortured mind sought escape... out
there beyond the dark walls...out there she could fly up into the night - she could
smell the deep rich perfume of night-flowers, exotic orchids and dark tropical
flowers - there were hills shrouded in mist and thick jungle-forests - out there the
pain stopped and the suffering and the terror - out there the wind rushed past her
ears and blew back her hair - she was a child again and daddy was taking her
flying in the Cessna.  Below, the thick greenery of Colombia's forests spread
to the horizon.  "Look Jane," daddy said. "Look down there."  And she saw a
waterfall and birds careening in the wind and people in a small village by a 
river.  She pressed her face against the glass of the cabin window until it got
foggy with her breath.  In the distance there were mountains, tall mountains that
rose up out of the greenery into the bright sunlight...and then...and then she
was falling - falling back - downward - out of the heavenly sky -
	Doug's fingers were easing up.
	Her eyes were refocusing.
	Jake had stepped in front of her, grabbed her by her ears, pushed his cock up
to her face.
	He didn't have to tell her what to do - she knew what he wanted and she
opened her lips wide.  There would be no resistance from her.
	"Nice -" Jake said as he slid his cock into the beaten woman's mouth.
	The studded lash he'd been using on her hung on a hook from a black
leather strap around his waist on the right side.  On the left side, riding his hip, a
knife was sheathed.  She could see the knife's black handle as Jake's big cock
filled her mouth.  She tasted manmeat and choked and phlegm and bile
rose up from the back of her throat into her nose to spill out her nostrils.
	"Yeahh -" Jake said, a nasty edge to his voice. "Gag on me you piece of
shit."
	He looked down on her as she rode Doug's prick and he fucked her mouth.
	He liked the way her raw-whipped bleeding tits and nipples bounced.
	It made him feel good that he'd put those marks there.
	He also liked the bruised fingerprints Doug had left on her throat.
	But most of all he liked the lifeless defeated expression in Jane Wade's eyes.
	The bitch was already broken. She was going to give him and Doug anything
they wanted now.
	Jake released her ears and lifted his hands up to his long black mane of hair
leaning back slightly, tilting his head back and closing his eyes to thrust his cock into
his victim's throat.
	He let her work him up enjoying the sensation of her moist soft lips gently
cupping around his rigid meat and after a while he said:
	"We need to really punish this pig, Doug.  I mean really break her fuckin'
ass."
	"Yeahh -"Doug agreed grinning. "I think we should bullwhip the shit out of
er. Bullwhip her stinking cunt... Mmmm - Maybe hang er up first - Know what I
mean - uunhhh  - by her fuckin' tits up from the ceiling..."
	"Ahh - yeah -" Jake replied nodding. "Yeah. I like that.  We'll hang er up
by her feet and beat the livin' shit out of er - maybe even make er walk the walk,
you know?"
	"Yeahh - walk the walk - good idea."
	"But right now - uhhh - I'd like to doubleteam her cunthole - whatta you
think?"
	"Go for it, dude."
	"Ok - I'm gonna lift her legs up but you're gonna have to hold em up
there."
	"You got it."
	Jake slid out of Jane's mouth and bent down to grab her ankles.  He
lifted her legs and she rolled back against Doug, her hands reaching out on the
rough surface of the wooden bench,  her head on the blonde man's shoulder.  She
howled as flashes of pain tore through her cracked knee and up her leg to her hip as
Doug gripped her thighs and pulled them up and apart from behind her.  Doug slid
back a bit and pushed his legs out raising Jane slightly, offering her penetrated cunt
to Jake who stroked his hard meat in preparation.
	"Two cocks in your cunt, scumbag," Jake snarled.  "That's a once in a 
lifetime thing -"
	He spread his legs apart and crouched slightly bringing his stiff fuckpole
to Jane's gleaming red cunt-slit, prying it open around Doug's pistoning shaft.
	" - a real once in a lifetime thing -"
	Jake positioned his cockhead at the top of Jane's cuntal opening and pressed
down against his partner's hot meaty organ and inward.  Slowly Jane's cunt
was stretched open.
	"N-naaag -" she groaned turning her head to one side and shutting her
eyes tightly.  The pain coming from her punished sex organ competed with the
other terrible sensations, her cracked knee and elbow, her clubbed bruised
body and whipped tits and belly, her beaten face.  The men were taking her
apart one piece at a time.  She realized they were experts at this.  They'd done
it before - and done it well.  Tears flooded her eyes and poured down her
cheeks.
	"That's right, pig," Jake sneered. "Cry. Cry for us."
	"Stuff er," Doug told his partner. "Stuff the bitch up, Jake."
	"Uuhhh!" Jake grunted as he pushed inward.  He worked his cock half way
in and took Jane by her shoulders to ram himself deeper.  When he was in up to
his balls he began to pump his hips.
	"Ye-AHH!" Doug shouted and began to piston deeper into Jane's cunt
along with his partner.
	For both men the sensation of their pricks pressed together in mutual
penetration was exquisite.  Though they often double-teamed their rape-victims
they didn't usually share the same hole - the act was always saved for special
kills - and they both knew from the get go that the killing of Jane Wades and
her lovely twin daughters was going to be special.
	"Like that, bitch?!" Doug snarled. "Huh?! You fuckin' like it?!"
	Both men began thrusting against Jane in tandem, synchronously, riding
her hard, riding her until they were covered in sweat and breathing hard, muscles
rippling in Jake's back and thighs and in Doug's powerful stocky arms.  Jake
slammed his weight into the helpless woman as Doug pumped upwards into her.
	"She's gettin' dry," Doug said after a while.
	"I'll take care of that," Jake said pulling slowly out lifting his cock to Jane's
chest and letting out a flood of piss on her.
	"Goddamn!' Doug laughed as Jane gave out a cry of surprise and looked up
at the dark haired man standing over her urinating on her.
	Jake trained his pissing cock on Jane's cunt and Doug's penis and balls.
	"Shit - that's hot!" Doug said.
	"Hot but nice," Jake growled.
	"Mm-hmm," Doug agreed, closing his eyes. "Reeal nice - think I'll piss up
inside er..."
	Jane gave out another short cry as she felt Doug release a hot stream of
urine inside her - involuntarily, after a few seconds she pissed herself sobbing
helplessly.  
	The stink of urine filled the room drowning out the stink of bloody
bludgeoned death momentarily.
	Again, Jake crouched down and put his prick to Jane's already penetrated
hole.
	Doug had already started pistoning in and out of her dripping cooze.
	"I think I need a little more lubrication," Jake said softly.
	Jane watched him unsheath his knife.
	"No -" she gasped breathlessly as she watched him bring the blade to
her pussymound. "No - please -"
	"Fuck you, bitch," he growled and with a quick slash the hooded killer sliced
a cut right into her meaty curly-haired mons pushing his cockhead against the
bleeding flesh as she cried out.
	"Careful with that knife,"Doug joked. "Don't want to lose my equipment."
	Both killers laughed as Jake sheathed his blade.
	The dark haired man now put his blood-smeared member to Jane's 
cunthole and pushed inward on top of his companion's shaft.
	Jane gave out a loud shriek as she was penetrated.  Her whipped tits and
the knife-cut burned as Jake's urine seeped into her flesh.  Both men were fully
erect now and she could barely accomodate them in her vagina.  They were
gouging her open, ripping her in half.  They fucked her brutally, violently,
heartlessly and after a few minutes Jake's hands went around her throat,
his thumbs pressing into her trachea.
	"You fuckin piece of shit - scumbag trash -"
	His face was fierce with intense mysoginistic hatred.
	She looked up at him helplessly.
	The hatred of her rapist tormentors was beyond the scope of her
understanding and experience. She'd known that things like this happened but
she'd never discussed them.  Jane had lived a restrained life in restrained
environments all her life and though her wealthy parents had business in exotic
places and she'd travelled all over the world with them she'd never been
exposed to the seamy side of life.  She'd always lived in a shell, protected
by wealth and privilige. And after she'd married Jim, things had gone on in the
same vein.  Wealth, power, privilige. Expected and predictable. 
	 It was supremely ironic that after being in all the wildest, most untamed,
most dangerous places on the planet, either with her parents or on vacation with her
husband,  she would be taken right from such a familiar place - right from Cliff
Garden Mall - she and the girls snatched away from their ordinary peaceful lives
into this hell-hole of sick malevolence.
	Now, again, she struggled to breathe and survive as the hateful sexuality
of the killers reached a pounding frenetic climax, their cocks slamming deep
into her, right into the barrier of her cervix.  Jane Wades had never been used the
way these men were using her.  Unlike some of the whoremeat Stryker and his men
usually dispatched in the subterranean rooms Jane Wades was high class, prime cut,
the creme de la creme - and as such she would be made to pay a higher steeper
price than the run of the mill victims that gave up their souls for the killers. 
	"God-damn-you," Jake growled leaning over her.
	He'd stopped her breath completely now and her tongue was lolling out and
her face was flushed and her eyes were wide and bulging.
	"God-fucking-damn-you - uhh - ahh - UHH - shittt -"
	He was starting to cum, his balls tight and hard.
	Doug grunted as he felt his own oncoming orgasm.
	"Fucking PIG!" Jake shouted. "AHH - UHHHHH!"
	His cock shot hard wads of cum up into Jane's cunt.
	A second later Doug yelled hoarsely and spurted up into the choking woman.
	Both men groaned and gasped deeply as creamy cum leaked down their
shafts and balls, oozing from Jane's urine-slimed cooze as her head sagged
downward and she drooled going unconscious.
	Jake released her bruised throat and stepped back sliding out of her.
	Doug pushed her off him and she slid off his prick and tumbled to the ground
at their feet.  She lay in puddled blood and piss.
	Jake kicked her over on her back and made sure she was still breathing.
	"Let's string er up," he told his partner. "Let's tear this bitch to shreds."


	"It huurts!" Holly wailed.
	She cringed in a corner of the tiled room and Stryker loomed over her, the
long fiberglass cane in his hand.
	Beth still lay on the bench crying softly.
	"Get back on that fucking bench," Stryker ordered.
	"Don't hit me anymore!" Holly wailed shrilly, pushing back against the wall.
	"If you make me come get you I'll whip your little twat with it," Stryker
threatened. "You hear me?"
	Holly sobbed in response.
	"Get back on that bench and start eating pussy, you little whore."
	"But why do you have to whip us?"
	"I whip you because I like it and because you deserve it - Now, I'm only
going to tell you one more time - get back on the bench - get on top of your
fucking sister and start eating pussy -"
	Tearfully and still cringing Holly moved toward Beth.  
	Five long thin red welts marked her back, three near her shoulderblades
two across her asscheeks.  Stryker had meant to give her more before she'd gotten
to her feet and run to the door.  But the door, like all other doors in the basement,
opened only when the right sequence of numbers was entered into a keypad to 
the right of the frame, and Holly wasn't able to escape, only run around the room
helplessly finally cornered, wet and shivering.
	She'd been lost in the act of mutual cunnilingus with Beth when Stryker's
cane had suddenly beaten down on her.  Like her sister, Holly had never been
hit as a child - neither slapped, pinched or spanked.  The sharp blinding pain
of the fiberglass rod Stryker had gotten from a cabinet on the wall near the door
had torn Holly from her sister's embrace.  She had fled the terrible pain
instinctively.
	But the idea of being whipped on her sex with that weapon brought her
back and now she knelt on the bench over Beth looking back over her shoulder
at Stryker.
	"Go down on her - just like you were doing."
	"Please, sir - don't whip her -" Beth said meekly.
	"You just keep your mouth on her cunt, girl - It'll be your turn soon. Both of
you need to learn to take it.  You need to learn to hurt for me."
	The killer had made the twins switch positions several times, Beth on top,
then Holly, then Beth, then Holly.  He'd rubbed his cock on them while they ate
each other, rubbed it in their faces, made them lick his balls, crouched over
whichever twin was on the bench at the moment to make her lick his asshole.
And his sadistic energy had continued to crescendo steadily until he'd finally
decided to get the five foot long, three-quarter inch thick rod from the cabinet.
	Stryker now moved close to the girls and urged Holly's head down toward
her sister's spread legs by placing the tip of the cane at the nape of her neck.
	"Do it for me," he said softly. "Eat her. And keep eating her while I beat
you."
	He stroked himself slowly as Holly sank down to do his bidding.
	Beth's face rose up between her sister's open thighs, wet pink tongue lapping
against Holly's loveslit.
	After a while the hiss of the shower spigots could not drown out the soft
moans of the girls.
	Stryker watched them for a while and then he stepped closer.
	"I'm going to hit you, Holly," he announced, still stroking himself, making
his victim wait a little longer.  He watched the topmost twin tremble in anticipation.
Gently he traced the curve of her spine with the tip of the punishment rod. She
flinched slightly as she felt the cold touch of the weapon.
	"I'm gonna hit you hard."
	The image of the killers beating the naked girls to death in the cell went
through the minds of the twins.  They both wondered if this was how Stryker had
started with those poor girls - if he'd had them in this room under his cruel watchful 
control teaching them to accept more and more each day until there was nowhere
left for them to go.
	Slowly and lovingly Stryker caressed Holly's shoulderblades with the rod.
	"Its coming," he said. "You just keep doing what you're doing and let it 
happen - you hear me?"
	"Ghmmm," Holly replied softly.
	The sharp thin mean whistle of the fiberglass rod was the only warning she
got before the weapon slashed across her buttcheeks.
	"OO-Owwwwww!" she cried out her head flying up from between Beth's
legs.
	"Get your face back on that pussy," Stryker ordered. "NOW!"
	She obeyed wordlessly, wincing with pain, and again Stryker caressed her
back with the rod.
	Again the rod whistled shrilly as Stryker beat it across Holly's sensitive
lower back.
	This time, the child screamed into her sister's cunt and kept licking.
	Stryker grunted approvingly.
	He stepped back slightly and to one side of the girls on the bench.
	The shower spigots shot warm water on his back and on his chest
	He masturbated slowly and raised the rod high over his head.
	The rod thudded down into Holly, once every fifteen seconds or so, sharply -
whistle-thuds of searing pain that etched dark red marks from her shoulders
to the tops of her thighs.  Both girls could feel the rush of air as the rod
descended but only Holly took the sharp cuts blubbering and sobbing into
her sister's cunt.  Neither sister allowed the beating to stop their lesbian
embrace - Stryker had made it clear that it should continue - and after a half hour
of the punishment they were taking his words to heart - Holly was trying to
accept the pain just as the killer had instructed - Beth was trying to give her sister
pleasure to counteract the effect of the savage whipping.  Just when it seemed Holly
had begun to adjust to the punishment Stryker stopped.
	"You," he said pointing the tip of the cane at Beth who looked up
in surprise. "Your turn. Get on top. Now."
	"Please," Holly said. She didn't want Beth to have to go through what she'd
just gone through.
	"Shut up," Stryker snapped. "Just do as you're told and do it quickly."
	The thirty or so strokes across Holly's back stung as she lay on the wet
tiles and spread her legs open, her feet arched and cocked on either side of the tiled
bench.
	Beth now knelt on top of her sister, straddling her pretty head, dipping down
to lick at her siblings pussy while her own pussy was lovingly licked as the hot
water rained down.
	"Little sluts," Stryker growled meanly. He enjoyed the psychological
confusion he was causing his young victims.  He knew neither one of the girls
would ever recover from it.  They wouldn't recover from it even if they'd had
a lifetime ahead of them, a privilige neither child would get.
	Beth cried out when the rod struck.  The pain was harsh, much harsher than
she thought.  She shut her teary eyes tightly as the whistling strokes came, evenly
timed, well-aimed, methodical.  After the seventh hit she shuddered.  Holly's
tongue had found her clit.  She felt strange, dizzy, hot.  She'd had orgasms before
but this was different.  She'd never felt anything this intense in her short life.  Holly
pressed her lips against her sister's pudenda and stroked hard with her tongue.
She knew Beth was cumming and though she had not been able to cum under
Stryker's rod she wanted her sister to experience the pleasure.  She suspected
there would be little pleasure if any for them after this.  Suddenly, Holly felt the
sting of Stryker's rod against her thigh.
	Stryker watched both girls intently.  He watched Beth arch slightly under
the cuts of the rod and he knew she was about to cum.  He knew Holly had not
reached this level and was surprised by the quickness of Beth's response.  Still
he might be able to get them both off.  He began to alternate cuts - one across
Beth's back - one across Holly's legs and ankles.
	"Keep licking!" he shouted at them. "Both of you! Don't fuckin' stop!"
	He circled around them to strike from different directions working himself
watching the twins as they began to gasp and groan and tremble clutching
at each other desperately.
	The rod fell harder. Its tip bit into Holly's shins and she howled wide-
mouthed into Beth's pussy.  It tore across the back of Beth's neck and she
keened into Holly's slit.  Both girl's began to tremble in mindless orgasm -
it was an orgasm fueled by vaginal stimulation, by the pain of the brutal caning and
by the terror and utter helplessness of their predicament.  Stryker had long ago
learned that female masochism could be explosively released under extreme
psychological trauma - he enjoyed showing females just how far they could be taken
- how far they could sink under his savvy handling.
	Instinctively the girls now buried their faces in each other's cunts, screaming
and pushing their tongues into their drooling loveholes, gasping for breath.  Holly
hugged Beth's waist, clutching at her welted asscheeks even when Stryker's
rod struck at her arms and hands.  Beth suffocated herself against Holly's
pussy, Holly's beaten thighs tight around her neck.
	"Goddamn," Stryker grunted.  The sexual violence he'd unleashed in
the two young teens was beyond his expectations.
	Beth came first her body going stiff and her screams turning into loud
paroxysmic sobs as she banged her head against the tiles between Holly's legs
Holly's eyes went wide and she stared up into the spray from the chrome spigots,
a long whimpering shriek finally erupting from her, stifled as Beth slammed her
cunt down into sister's face.  Both twins struggled against each other, writhed
spastically, screamed, cried, babbled incoherently - and through it all Stryker
kept beating - sharply methodically - snapping the rod down into wet girlmeat
until both twins finally slid off the tiled bench to the floor and crumpled into
an intertwined fetal position, clinging to each other, facing each other as they
must have done in the womb before birth. 
	Stryker moved slowly toward them, kicked them apart and sank to his knees
between them.
	He tossed the whipping rod aside and grabbed both twins by their wet
snarled manes.
	Their pretty faces were masturbation meat for him. Holding them by their
heads he rubbed their cheeks and mouths on his cock, pressed them
together with his hard erect manshaft between them.
	Then he made them kneel next to each other, posed them, faces upturned
hands cupped under their wide open mouths.
	Stryker had not seen the pictures the girls got of themselves at the photo
machine in the mall earlier that night - those were still back at the Venus Fly Trap
in Beth's purse, spilled out on the floor of the fitting room - but if he had he would
have probably fantasized about doing just exactly this with them. 
	They stared up at him, perfectly lovely, duplicate expressions of wide-eyed
submission as he growled and snarled, jerked himself off with one hand and gripped
his balls with the other.
	"Uhhnnhh - fucking little slutts -" he groaned, going up on his toes,
his pale hulking body arching.  "DRINK IT!"
	Hot spattering spurts smacked the twins' faces, thick drooling glops,
of viscuous manmilk.  They moaned with surprise as Stryker shot cum into their
pretty eyes and mouths but they stayed perfectly still where he'd placed them. It
was the first time they'd seen a man cum and the act paralyzed them with awe and
disgust. The first few short spurts evolved into long gushing streams of cum. which
coated their sweet faces gelatinously.  It was hard to believe that so much could
come so abundantly from one spurting penis, even a formidable one such as
Stryker's.  The twins, having no experience whatsoever with what was happening,
just did their best to obey the killers instructions and as the thick salty sticky stuff
rolled down their cheeks and off their lips into their hands they drew it into their
mouths and forced themselves to swallow it down.  More cum shot on to their hair
and on to their bodies, hot and slimy like spit.  Beth gagged noisily.  Holly puked
into her hands and began to sob brokenly.  
	Stryker then sat on the bench and drew both sisters to him by their
wet hair as they knelt in front of him forcing them to swap cum with each other, to
spit it into each other's mouths.  Holly puked again right into her sister's face
and Beth overcome with nausea gagged and puked all over herself.
	After hawking up thick spumes of phlegm and spitting them in both sister's
mouths the killer then ordered the sisters to piss on each other,  Beth standing over
Holly first, legs wide until an intermittent spray of urine finally rained down on the
humiliated spit- sperm- and vomit-smeared sibling.  Then Beth was made to kneel
and Holly to stand over her and give what she'd just received.
	Finally, the killer drew the two hapless twins to the middle of the room into
the square made by the tiled benches.  He tied the strand of wet rope around their
necks tightly and made them lie side by side on the tiled floor, their heads resting
on top of a drainplate.  He crouched over their lovely faces, feet far apart, his hands
clutching his knees.
	After two long fetid bubbling farts the killer emptied his bowels on his
victims.  The terrified traumatized children just lay there under his spurting asshole
as long turd-spirals curled out onto their faces and hair and into their babbling
sobbing mouths.
	When he was finished Stryker rubbed himself clean with the girls' hair then
stood up over them and smeared the shit all over them with his feet pushing
it into their mouths and nostrils with his toes and all over their chests and bellies
until both children gagged and vomited again.
	Stryker laughed watching them.
	They tried to wipe his shit off their faces but he ordered them to put their
hands down.
	He had now violated the young teens' innocence and their beauty in evey
possible way and he felt it was time to reunite them with their mom.  He wanted
mom to see them all covered in shit - HIS shit.  And he was curious about what his
men had done with the luckless female.
	The killer went to the intercom by the exit door and touched the switch.
	"Stryker here," he said.
	After a moment he heard Doug's voice sounding tinny in the small speaker.
	"Yeah."
	The hooded blonde killer was breathing hard.  Stryker knew he'd probably
interrupted something interesting.
	"If the bitch is still alive bring her to Room 12.," he said. "We'll continue
tonight's festivities there."
	"She's still alive.  But we're gonna have to carry er there. She don't walk
so good anymore."
	Stryker chuckled and clicked off.
	

	
	Jake was right. Jane Wades was still alive. But only barely. The healthy strong
female had been tortured inhumanly to the limits of her physical and psychological
endurance and she was  now hanging on to life by a frail thread.
	For the once attractive upper class suburban mom each single breath was
now extremely and unforgivingly painful.
	Her mind drifted senselessly.
	She was broken and shattered - on the brink of death.

	After the men had double-teamed her cunt Jake had taken a coil of thin wire
from the wooden cabinet and a pair of wire-cutters.

	That's how the torture had begun - with the wire... 

	...Jake stood over her as she lay on her belly on the floor and looped a strand
of wire tightly around her waist. While Doug held her hands behind her Jake bound
three turns around her wrists painfully, pulling them tight enough to cut into her
skin.  She groaned with fresh pain from her sprained elbow. With her arms now
pulled against her sides, wrists at her back at her waist, they forced her up on her
feet and her cracked knee sent jolts of hot agony through her.
	She heard the loud metal click of the wire cutters as Jake cut the rest of 
the wire coil from the strands around her waist and wrists.   Then he was 
crouching on one knee.
	"Put your fucking feet together," Doug ordered.
	As she obeyed Jake wound several turns around her ankles as fiercely as he'd
bound them around her wrists.  The wire hummed thinly as Jake spun it off the coil.
	Doug studied her face coldly as she blubbered and sobbed.  He gripped her
by one shoulder and by the nape of her neck to keep her standing.  He liked the
way she looked now, all beaten up, one eye swollen purple, lips cut, welts and
dark bruises all over her.  Doug liked the way women looked and felt - all hot and
feverish - after they'd been worked over and though he'd just orgasmed scant
moments earlier this cunt was already making him hard again.  He couldn't wait to
begin torturing this slut in earnest.
	Jake wound tight loops of wire from front to back between her ankles
securing and tightening the right to left strands.  Tiny drops of blood snaked down
over the ankle bones and down the sides of Jane's feet.  She jumped up on her 
toes, startled by the loud metallic click of the wire cutters as Jake snipped the
ankle bindings from the larger coil and as she did she felt the restrictive tug 
against her ankles and gave out a shocked whimper looking down her punished
body at her bound limbs.  She watched Jake move around on the floor and saw
him now wrap another strand of wire around her big toes securing one foot to
the other.
	Doug leaned in close and whispered in her ear.  She felt the heat of his
breath on her cheek.
	"We're gonna fuck you up bitch - fuck you up bad."
	Again she heard the click of the wire cutters and now Jake stood in front of
her.
	"This is my favorite part," he said and began wrapping a silvery strand
around her left breast as he gripped her soft mammary globe one handedly.
	"Yeahh," Doug agreed enthusiastically watching the way Jane's soft
titmeat yielded to the thin wire.
	"We'll hang er by her tits,"Jake told his companion. "What do you think?"
	"I think go for it. She's got lotsa meat on em. They should hold er up."
	Jane Wades had a thirty eight inch bust.  Her breasts had swelled way beyond
that when she'd been pregnant with the twins, something Jim, her husband, had
enjoyed tremendously but which had mortified her with embarrasment.  She had
not breast-fed the babies but had instead used a pump on herself to relieve the
painful lactation.  Now the wire tore into the soft pliable meat choking off her
titglobe, strangling the bruised beaten globe beautifully until it swelled out in front of
her, purple as an eggplant.
	Doug smiled and tweaked her swollen nipple.
	When Jake finished the left boob he clipped off the main coil of wire and did
Jane's right breast.  By the time he finished and clipped off the coil  again she was
shivering with pain and anxious anticipation.
	"Very nice," Doug whispered hoarsely standing behind her, his stubbly cheek
against hers, the latex fabric of his black hood pressing into her hair, his arms
coming around her both his hands on her bound breasts, his fingers slowly pinching
both nipples now. "Very fuckin' nice." His already fully erect cock pressed against
her beaten asscheeks.
	Jake went to the cabinet again and returned with two small clip hooks.
	He slid one end of each hook under the wire strands around her strangled tits
pressing the release button to open the metal ring then closing it.  Reaching up
to the ceiling he pulled down the pulley lines the twins had hung from earlier and
clipped the hooks attached to Jane's tits from them, each tit to a separate line.
	Doug continued to stroke and pinch and maul her bound jugs from behind
her whispering in her ear, telling her how she was going to suffer and pay for being
female - he told her how she would be forced to watch them rape her daughters -
rape them and hurt them and bleed them - all in a low hypnotic voice that sent
shivers of terror running through her.
	Jake moved to a small panel on the wall and pressed some buttons.
	"Need some atmosphere," he said.
	On one of the walls another panel slid upward revealing a large video
monitor screen which momentarily came alive with crisp clear pornographic images
- black men gangbanging a young blonde teen.  Sound accompanied the video
image as the brutish men grunted and manhandled the obviously cooperative girl
who moaned and squealed and gasped in response to the penetration of the huge
dark brown cocks into her cunt and asshole.
	"Yeahh," Doug moaned in Jane's ear.  "This is a nice one. Have you seen
it?" he asked his tit-bound victim.
	Jane hung her head then shook it slowly from side to side.
	"No? Too bad. I guess women in your social bracket don't watch this sort of
thing."
	Jake chuckled.
	Doug grabbed her by her hair and forced her to look at the screen.
	"Look at it, bitch.  Don't hang your fuckin' head.  Look at those niggers
fuck that white girl.  You see it? Huh? See it?  Maybe we should call up some
of those black studs and have em come down and fuck your little babies. Huh?
What do you think a that? Think your daughters could handle that shit? I think
they could."
	Across the room Jake laughed as he pressed another switch on the panel
in the wall.  Doug continued his harangue.
	"I think your babies are two stinking little sluts ready to take whatever we
give em.  Two little whores - just like their momma."
	There was a soft whirring sound and Jane gave out a yelp as she felt her
tits being pulled upward.
	Doug stepped back away from her.
	"Stupid cunt," he growled. "Now you're in for it."
	The pulley lines rose toward the ceiling pulling her wired tits upward.
	"Noo - aa-ahgg -"Jane moaned helplessly looking from Doug to Jake, back
and forth.
	The men just smiled as their victim's expression grew more desperate.
	She began to rise up on her wire-bound toes.
	"Noo!! Pleeease!" she wailed.
	Tiny trickles of blood snaked down her bruised chest and belly as the wires
tore into her.
	Jake touched the button on the panel and stopped the pulleys.  He didn't
want the bitch off her feet just yet, just stretched nicely, arched and leaning
slightly back, in danger of ripping herself right off the lines.
	He went to the cabinet and picked up two thin wooden canes.  Metal
barbs protruded in even rows all along the length of the canes right to the
dark leather handle.
	As he walked back toward Jane and Doug Jake showed the helpless woman
the canes, lifting them up in front of her beaten face for her to see.
	"Noo!" she groaned wildly shaking her head then looking with pleading eyes
again from one tormentor to the other. "Noo! Oh Godd! Noo! Pleease!"
	Jake handed Doug one cane.  He felt something brush against his leg and
looked down.  It was Monika's severed head.  He kicked it away with disgust.
	"There's no mercy here, bitch," he growled.  "You should know that by
now. None. So quit asking for it."
	Slowly the killers circled their prey. She kept turning her head following one
then the other as they prowled around her.  Their hooded faces terrified her - their
gleaming eye-slits - their blood-smeared bodies.  Jake's long black hair which spilled
down from underneath the latex hood was speckled with bits of bloody skin and
bone from the five girls that lay butchered on the floor all around them.  The killers
held their spiked rods out menacingly.  They began to prod Jane's ass and thighs
and belly with the rods, chuckling as she jerked to the sensation of prickly metal
against her hot beaten flesh.  The sounds coming from the fuck video were
deafening, distorted, cacophonous as the blonde appeared to orgasm under the
onslaught of an impressive double penetration.
	Jake struck first, a quick sharp hit across Jane's thighs.
	Her mouth went wide and she started to cry out but Doug's rod snapped
across her asscheeks and twisted her throaty cry upward into shrillness.
	Blood dripped from the small spike wounds.
	Two strokes more followed, hard and deliberate - and then a third drawing
hysterical vocalizations.  Then, as if in response to the blonde on the video, who
began to scream in orgasmic blisss, Jake and Doug began to pound Jane wade's
body.  They circled as they struck and their spiked weapons gouged into Jane's
unprotected body spattering bits of blood on the floor and ceiling.
	She leaned back, tottering on her heels, as far as she could, pulling away
from the beating only to be wacked across her shoulders or ass or thighs from
behind and forced forward up on her wired toes.
	Her screams rose and matched the cries of the young blonde coming from
the wall-screen speakers and when those subsided Jane's only continued to climb
under the savage assault.
	Jake struck at her arms and shoulders, at her bound hands.
	Doug swung at her bound tits and belly, at her meaty thighs.
	The thunking of the spiked rods fell into a predictable rhythm and the
wire-hung bitch danced for her killers - danced and bled.
	"I wanna beat her cunt," Jake snarled stepping up to Jane, going down on
one knee to release her ankles. He ran new wire strands from wooden poles on
opposite sides of her to her bleeding ankles, stretching her legs wide, forcing her
to stay up on her toes. then stepping back  to swat at Jane's pusy with his spiked
rod.  
	Doug joined him and they took turns pounding their weapons into her pussy
until it bled copiously down her legs, the knife-slash Jake had earlier inflicted on her
cunt-mound now re-opened by the beating.
	On the video screen the blonde was being forced to suck all three of her
assailants - she looked up at each one as she took their massive pricks in her mouth,
with green-eyed submission.
	Jake and Doug enjoyed the shrieking hysteria of agony that now seized their
defenseless bitch captive.  They stroked themselves, watched the video and beat
blood out of Jane Wades all at the same time.
	They spike-smacked at her bound tits and at her cunt alternately and she
screeched and jerked against the assault.
	"Goddamn scumbag," Doug hissed. "C'mon Jake. Let's make er walk
the walk.  Let's make er tear her fuckin' cunt to bits for us."
	Jake knew what his partner was talking about. They'd done it before a couple
of times -
	The men released Jane from her wide-legged bondage. As she hung by her
tits, feet slippery in puddled blood, she whimpering and breathless, they strung a
piece of barbed wire between the two poles her ankles had been tied to. The two
columns were about eight feet apart.
	Jake went to the panel of switches and the overhead motor began to whirr
noisily lifting the luckless bleeding captive off her feet.
	Her wild screams filled the chamber as she rose nearly four feet up in the air.
	Blood spurted from where the wire dug into her boobmeat.
	Doug guided her over the barbed wire and then Jake began to lower her so
that she was forced to straddle it.  When her feet touched the ground again she was
forced to stand tippy-toe, the barbed wire snagging her bleeding cunt.
	"Lower her all the way down," Doug told Jake.
	Jake gently rode the toggle switch on the panel until Jane Wades rested on
the soles of her feet, on wobbly bleeding ankles, sobbing fitfully.  She stood with her
back to one of the poles, her hands still bound behind her and she faced the other
pole eight feet away.
	On the video screen the black men had begun to slap and choke-fuck the
blonde girl.
	"Walk, whore," Doug snarled.  "Walk to the other pole."
	She just stood there sobbing until Doug swatted her ass with his spiked rod.
	Her head rocked backward and she screamed at the ceiling.
	"NOO MOOOORE!"
	"I said -WALK!" Doug spat and struck Jane Wades again, this time across
her already bloody and bruised belly.
	Unwillingly the tortured bitch began to move forward.  As she did the bladed
barbs on the wire ripped into her already bloody twat, pierced her cunt lips, tore
at the sensitive inner meat of her sex.
	"AAOWWWWW!" she screeched.
	"KEEP WALKING!" Doug shouted and smacked her again, hard across
her calves.
	Jake stroked himself rapidly watching his friend making Jane Wades walk the
walk.  Like his companion Jake enjoyed hurting a woman more than fucking her.
Raping and fucking and sodomizing were only foreplay for the real shit - the shit
that counted - like making a stupid cunt walk the walk - Oh yeah - walking the
walk was the shit Jake and Doug really loved.
	"Tear that cunt up!" he shouted at Jane Wades. "Tear it up you stupid
whore!"
	And when their victim reached the other pole and her cunt was a mess
Jake hit the switch on the wall panel and raised her by her tits again.  Doug turned
her around and again she was lowered to the ground and forced to walk toward the
first pole under the encouraging slashes of Doug's spiked rod her twat dragging
against the barbed wire.
	They made her walk back and forth nearly twenty times, nearly severing
her tits off her from all the lifting and lowering, her cunt a mess of swollen
meat and mucous and raw bloody flesh.  For the last few walks they blindfolded her
and pierced tiny meat-hooks through her nipples from which they hung twenty
pound lead weights that tugged her wire-bound tits down almost to her waist.   Jake
pierced another hook through her tongue and attached it to a rope line so that
while Doug continued to swat at their captive's legs and thighs to get her to
keep moving Jake simply pulled her forward by her hooked tongue.
	Then, Jane Wades was positioned between the two poles again, still
blindfolded, one ankle wire-bound to an overhead pulley line and hauled high so that
she stood on one leg, wobbling and bleeding and sobbing as her tormentors took up
long black leather bullwhips.
	Jake and Doug moved the dead bodies of the girls they'd slaughtered earlier
piling them up against the wall in a macabre heap to give themselves room.
	They stood on either side of Jane,  Jake facing her, Doug behind her.
	On screen the blonde bitch choked on cock and began to cry as the black
males laughed and jeered at her.  The men reached down to pinch her nostrils
shut as they gouged her throat with their long club-like cocks.
	In the cellroom, the bullwhips whooshed, snaked through the air and tore into
the tottering blindfolded female target.  Both Jake and Doug were experts with the
ten foot long lashes and they made them sing through the air and snap harshly
against their bloody beaten captive double-whipping her the way they'd double-
fucked her, cruelly and with admirable male grace, savage aggression beautifully
unleashed.
	The merciless hacking blows winded Jane and tore at her beaten skin hotly.
	The bullwhips tore at her like toothed predators hungry for whoremeat.
	Jake and Doug enjoyed bullwhipping their victims. They slashed at Jane
with all their energy, their cocks now fully erect at the sight of the brutalized
female Stryker had left them to play with.  Take her as far as she can go, he'd told
them.  And that's exactly what they were gonna do - they were gonna take this
bitch to the fucking brink of death.
	The bullwhips thudded and smacked into bloody cuntmeat, into sweaty
beaten womanskin.  With deadly aim Jake and Doug slashed at the inside of
their victim's thigh - at her belly - at the sole of the dangling foot - at the
calf and ankle of the standing leg -  Ugly red welts began to cover Jane's
already bruised body - ugly red welts and slash-cuts.
	Tears poured down her screaming face from under the black cloth of the
blindfold.
	It wasn't long before both men wanted to fuck their bitch again.
	They released her wired tits from the overhead lines finally and made her
bend over a torture table the surface of which was studded with inch-high
upward aimed nails.  They wire-bound her ankles to the table's rear legs, wide apart
and they pulled her down and roped her wrists to the table's front legs.  Jane sank
down helplessly, her chest and belly stabbed by the hundred metal barbs.
	Now wielding a small steel mace, a medieval war weapon he'd taken from
the cabinet, basically a metal sphere mounted on a handle and bristling with sharp
needle-thin spikes Jake walked up behind the bent-over woman and slid his cock up
into her bloody ripped asshole.	
	Doug stepped up to her face, pulled off the cloth blindfold and made her take
his prick in her mouth.
	Slowly fucking Jane's mouth Doug looked up dreamily at his partner.
	"Wack the cunt, man - Wack her hard."
	Jake hilted his meat deep in Jane's ass and gripped her hip with one hand,
his hips forward-thrusting.  He raised the mace - drew his cock back - plunged
inward and as he did he slammed the spiked weapon across Jane Wade's whipped
upper back.  Jane screamed into Doug's cock.  Doug craned his head and
pushed his prick into his victim's throat hole.
	"Ahh  yeahh -" he groaned, lost in mind-blowing pleasure. "Slam that
thing into er.  Slam the fuckin' bitch, Jake.  Nail er to the table!"
	As Doug held Jane Wade's head by her sweaty matted hair, held her
to his cock, pushed down her gullet, Jake smiled and pounded the mace down
against the defenseless female forcefully, slamming his cock way up her ass
each time he struck.  Jane kicked and tugged against the wires that held her
to the table helplessly, drooled spit and choked, dry-heaving against the massive
cock lodged in her throat.
	She couldn't see the video screen which was off to one side of her but she
could hear the grunts and groans of the black men as they pounded their
pricks into the blonde's gagging mouth.  Jane's punished body was in a blaze of
terrible pain.  As the mace slammed into her she felt the hard spikes pierce deeply
and the nails below sink into her skin.  Some of the nails were pushing right into her
rib-bones and rib-cage and she was afraid that one good blow from Jake would
pound her down into them and they would penetrate her lungs.  Blood was
puddling hot under her.  She could feel it warm as spilled soup.  She could 
smell it.  Doug's cock stretched her jaw to the limit.  She didn't even think
about sinking her teeth into her assailant - she knew if she did that or fought
back in any way they would waste no time in crushing the life from her -
and what had become of Holly and Beth? How long had the monster had them
to himself? Had he raped them and butchered them?  Were they being 
tortured as violently as she was?  Doug's hard fingers bore into her skull as 
he made her bob her head back and forth on his shaft.  After a while he
began to draw back and punch her face hard before sticking his cock back
in her mouth.  His pounding fist and the pounding mace made her dizzy -
she was on the edge of consciousness - she was floating high above the
Colombian jungle again in a daze - but there was no airplane - she was
drifting through the clouds.  And then Doug would slap her hard, punch
her - Doug would slam her with the mace and ram his cock into her -
the brutal torture was taking her mind to the brink of total extinction.
	She suddenly felt light as a feather - the traumatic pain became like
background static - she looked up into Doug's hooded face and her eyes begged for
an end to it - begged - and he liked the way they begged and he plowed into her
even harder and Jake slammed his mace into her lower spine.  Something
snapped in her and a flush of heat exploded in her guts.  Jake stepped back,
pulled out of her and began to pound the backs of her thighs with the mace.
He pounded her cunt with it.  Jane Wades knew then she wanted nothing more
than to die now.  She tried to say something when Doug pulled his cock
from her mouth - instead she drooled and made gagging sounds before
his punching fist smashed into her nose and snapped it.
	Then the room was spinning around her.
	She gave out sharp dog-like yelps as Jake pounded his mace into her
calves. Her sprained kneecap cracked.  Deep in her throat Doug began to piss and
she gagged as the hot acrid fluid traveled up into her nose and spilled from
her bleeding nostrils.  He pulled out laughing to piss in her face and shut
her slitted eyes and panting mouth.  He took a couple of steps back and kicked the
heel of his foot into her face smashing her front teeth in.  Then both of them were
fucking her again, mouth and asshole, gripping her and fucking her against the
torture table for all she was worth.
	Far away she heard Stryker's voice call out.
	"Stryker here."
	She felt Doug back away from her.
	Her head sagged down over the edge of the table - spit and urine dribbled
from her lips.
	Jake continued to fuck her up the ass savagely, his thrusts making the table-
legs creak under her, his stone-hard prick scraping her rectum raw, stretching
her sphincter muscle past its limit.
	Across the room she heard Doug talking into an intercom.
	My babies - she thought - what has the monster done with them? Where are
they?
	Then she heard something about room twelve - something about her not
walking so good and she was falling through clouds again - no - she couldn't walk -
she'd never walk again - she was broken - they'd broken her and she wanted to flee
- to die - to leave behind the intolerable pain.
	Then she looked up  - Doug had returned.
	"Cunt," he snarled.
	He was jerking off with quick rhythmic movements.
	His semen began to spatter her beaten eyes blinding her.
	Barely clinging to consciousness as Jake pounded his prick up her asshole
Jane Wades thought she'd taken all the pain she would ever be able to take.
She thought she'd reached the end her tormentors were supposedly taking her to
but as Jake grunted and shot his cum first inside her, deep in her rectum and then
out on her bloody ravaged twat, his mace impaled on the back of her left leg she
didn't realize how far she still had to go and how eternal this endless night would
eventually seem.
	

	

8.

	Jake and Doug dragged Jane Wades into room 12 by her arms, her bare heels
and broken legs leaving blood trails on the floor, her mace-spiked back and legs
oozing dark scarlet.
	"Perfect," Stryker commented looking down at the shattered female.
	"H-holly -"Jane muttered through bloody lips. "Bu-bu-Beth -"
	"Your babies are right here, cunt," Stryker replied. 
	She watched him pull the twins from the shadows, tugging them on a
rope looped around their necks.
	"D-dear Godd," she groaned.
	The girls were wet and shivering and their lovely faces were covered with shit
and dripping slimy cum.  Thin welts streaked over their legs and backsides.
	"We've been having shit-loads of fun, haven't we girls?" the monster asked
rhetorically.
	Doug and Jake cackled meanly. 
	Beth and Holly hung their heads in shame, sobbing. 
	Down by Stryker's feet Jane noticed the butchered cadaver of a female.
	An axe was buried in the woman's headless, armless, legless body - in
her cunt - the woman's limbs and her head were scattered around her like so much
trash.
	It was the whore Stryker had known as Rhonda, murdered by him earlier
that day - murdered for the sheer foreplay-pleasure of it. 
	Stryker saw Jane looking.
	"How do you like my work?" he asked.
	She looked up at him wordless.
	"Don't worry. You'll have ample opportunity to experience it first hand."
	Then turning to Jake and Doug he growled:
	"Get mom up on her feet. Bring er over here."
	Taking the dazed woman between them,  lifting her by her arms they 
half dragged her to the twins.
	Stryker grabbed Jane's head by her hair and tugged the twins to her by the
choke rope.
	"Lick em clean," he told the beaten woman meanly. "C'mon...lick - yeah -
that's it - lick my shit off their faces - uh-huh - its already kinda dry isn't it?  How's
it taste? Good? Huh? Does it taste good you fuckin' scumwad? I bet it doesn't taste
like lobster or caviar does it? I bet its not like filet mignon or pate fois gras or caviar
you're used to, is it? - Don't fuckin' eyeball me, cunt! LICK! Lick it all up. ALL
OF IT. Goddamn bitch. - looks like you got your fuckin' face kicked in by a mule -
you're not so attractive anymore are you, Jane? I don't think any of your friends
would recognize you - or even your husband.  You look like some second-hand
trailer-trash cunt after a little run-in with a redneck boyfriend - Right, guys? Yeahh -
keep licking - that's a good slut - fuckin' piece of shit..."
	Holly and Beth sniffled and whimpered softly as their mom complied with
the killer's command.  Her face was hot and bruised and bloody, her front
teeth bashed in. It was awful for them to see her like that, held up between the
two killers that had done this to her, broken, obediently performing the
humiliating task that was demanded of her as Stryker's dark deep voice droned on
punishingly.  Her warm tongue lapped up the mucky crap smeared all over her
daughters' faces - Stryker's cum and his faeces, gummy and gooey.  She licked it
up from their cheeks and lips and eyes and forehead until it was all gone, until she
was gagging from having to swallow the killer's filth down. By then Beth and Holly
were crying disconsolately.
	"Muhmmie," Holly called out softly. "Sorry - sorry - muhmmie -"
	"Its my fault," Beth muttered. "I shouldn't have made Holly stay in the
mall..."
	"No," Stryker commented cruelly. "You shouldn't have - but we're
sure glad you did."
	The three men laughed.
	" - not your fault," Jane whispered weakly. " - not your fault -"
	"Alright," Stryker said. "Put the bitch up on the post. I want er to watch
us fuck her babies."
	Jane gave out a small strangled cry.
	Doug and Jake dragged her across the room sobbing and pleading weakly
and she was backed up against a wooden post, a column that ran from the floor to
the ceiling. Her arms were pulled against the post and cuffed tightly by the wrists to
steel manacles on each side.  A larger steel band fitted around her neck and held
her head against the post.  Two more cuffs held her ankles to the base of the
column.  As they slipped her broken extremities into the metal restraints Jane
groaned and squealed in agony.  The wounds the mace had left on her back
and thighs stung as her skin pressed against the rough wood.
	When Doug and Jake stepped back away from her she saw that Stryker had
made Holly and Beth lie on a small black table, their legs wide open, feet propped
up on the table's edge. He had posed them obscenely for her so that she could see
every detail of their abused female anatomy and they lay on the table still crying
able to see their mom only if they raised their heads off the table's black-painted
surface and looked between their open thighs.
	To the right and near the wall of the chamber lay Rhonda's butchered body
and Jane could smell the terrible smell of death and decay coming from it.
	"You know what this feels like, don't you, mom?" Stryker asked Jane.
	He was stroking his big cock and showing it to her.  The red heart tatoo
gleamed in the soft overhead glow, mirroring the larger one on his chest.
	"Well now your babies are gonna know it too -"
	"Please," Jane said hoarsely. "It might kill them."
	"It might," Stryker agreed.  "I think it would be nice if it did - but I think
you understimate the abilities of your children."
	Jane watched him walk to Holly and Beth.
	The girls looked so small and fragile on the narrow black table.  They're just
babies, Jane thought. Just babies. Their arms and legs still slightly lanky.  Their
cheeks still plump with baby fat. They're not ready for what the killer wants of
them - they're too young - too small.
	"Take me if you want," Jane wailed. "Take me but let my babies gooo!"
	The men laughed.
	"Bitch," Doug spat. "We've HAD you."
	Jake and Doug went around the opposite side of the table and as Stryker
nodded down at Beth they seized the child's arms.  Holly started to move away.
	"Stay right there, sweetheart," Stryker said and his dark deep voice froze
her. "Your sister gets to go first but you're up next."
	"Can you see, mom?" the killer asked looking back at Jane over his shoulder
as he positioned himself between Beth's thighs.  The table brought the child's
pussy slit to the perfect height for fucking.
	Jane bit her lip and nodded slowly.
	She could see.
	She could see perfectly between the killer's open thighs as he pressed the fat
bulbous head of his long, fat, up-hooked cock against Beth's red pussy slit.
	Jane remembered what that monstrous appendage felt like.
	Stryker saw the flicker of awful memory in her eyes and he smiled.
	He turned his attention to the child in front of him.
	Beth gave out a choked off gasp as Stryker reached down and peeled her
pussy lips open pressing just the tip of his fourteen inch cock into her vaginal hole.
	"Ready or not, you little fuck - here it comes," the killer growled.
	Forcefully gripping the child's thighs near her hips Stryker pushed his meat
into her.  Beth began to struggle and scream wildly but Jake and Doug held her
down against the table by he arms and shoulders.
	"Goddamn - she's tight -" Stryker grunted. "Didn't you guys fuck er?"
	The men laughed continuing to hold the child down on the table.
	"We woulda had to fuck er with a bat to open her up for you, boss," Jake
joked.
	Beth screamed in agony as Stryker stuffed his massive tool into her inch by
inch, pushing forward and inward.  Jane and Holly pleaded with the killer to no
avail.  He seemed to be only spurred on by the protests of the females.  Though
he'd cum less than fifteen minutes earlier the violent rape-fuck and the prospect of
the violence that lay ahead had already excited him back to full size.
	"A bat or a fuckin' horse!" Doug quipped.
	Stryker smiled. He liked the image.  He thought of himself as a stallion, a wild
satanic steed let loose upon the world.  He was almost up to his balls in Beth now
and she was sobbing and jerking and screaming, her little pussy bleeding all over
him and on to the table, blood dripping down between his feet.  Her vaginal passage
was filled to capacity and it felt to her as if the killer was sawing her in half with
his cock.  He towered imperiously over her blocking out the glow of the
ceiling light just behind him his facial expression unreadable under the latex hood.
Beth looked up at the men that held her for him and they stared down at her
cruelly, with savage greedy hooded eyes, their hard fingers digging into the
skin of her arms an shoulders.
	"Fuck er, boss!" Jake snarled. "Fuck the little pig good!"
	"Ahhhh!" Stryker groaned as Beth's little pussy contracted against him.
"Shitt - that's nice -"
	Slowly he began to push in and out of her - in and out - gripping her legs
tightly helping his men keep Beth down for the brutal rape.
	Jane tried to look down or away but the clamp that held her neck to the post
did not allow any movement and she was forced to watch the devastating violation
of her daughter.
	After nearly twenty minutes of pounding cockmeat into childpussy Stryker
slid out of Beth and moved to Holly.
	His men took the second twin and held her.
	Beth lay weakly struggling to breathe. She turned on her side and watched as
Stryker positioned himself against her sister just as he'd done with her.
	"No - no," Holly pleaded quivering. " - no - no - no -"
	"Shhh, its ok," Beth said trying to comfort her sibling, reaching out to stroke
Holly's forehead.  She knew it wasn't ok. It would never be ok.  It felt to Beth like
her guts had been ripped out through her pee-pee. But she had to be strong for
Holly - for Holly and for her mom. "Its ok, Holly - it doesn't hurt too bad -"
	The men sneered and then smiled as Holly's piercing scream filled the room.
	Stryker thrust brutally into the child, slamming his cock deep, drawing blood
almost instantly - no inch by inch on this one - this bunny was gonna take it all
or die trying.
	"Yeahh!" Doug shouted.
	Beth wept and turned away.
	Stryker gripped Holly by her upper thighs and slam-banged into her, deep.
	Instinctively the killer knew this was the weaker of the two sisters and his
sadistic sense of power nearly overwhelmed him.  The weaker and the more
pitiful victims always fired him up.
	"Choke er!" He barked at Doug and Jake. "Strangle er!"
	Doug gripped the child around her throat and squeezed still holding her down
with his other hand.  Jake put his free hand over the child's nose and mouth and
squeezed them shut.  Stryker punched Holly's belly brutally , twice, pulled his 
cock all the way out and slammed it back in to the hilt.
	"Fuckin' little pig!" Stryker growled, his cock slick with little girl blood.
	"Gghhmgggffff!" Holly gurgled.
	The table creaked as the monster fucked her.
	"Keep chokin' er," Stryker roared. "Don't let er breathe until I say."
	Jane's knees sagged and she clutched her arms against the post as she
watched.  
	"Oh Godd!" she screamed. "Pleease don't kill her. Pleease don't kill my
babiieee!."
	Beth folded up into a fetal position next to her punished sister and covered
her ears.
	Holly looked up at Stryker, eyes bulging, face flushed, Jake's big hand
disfiguring her cute little munchkin face.
	"Ohhh -" Stryker groaned. "Ohh yeahhh - I like that - look at me, baby -
mmmm - yeahhh - keep looking - don't let er breathe - uunhhh! - little whore -
uhh -ohhh - shittt -"
	His hips were gyrating forcefully to pound his fourteen inch meat deep into
helpless Holly Wades.  He wanted to fuck the life out of er.  Little rich cunt.
Stupid naive little twirp.  He wanted to break her. To rip her to pieces.  He
unleashed the full measure of his hatred on the defenseless child ripping her
little cooze open.  He gut-punched her again and watched her eyes roll back in her
head. He thrust in and out several times, slid out of her, then signalled his men to
release her.  Holly turned first to one side then the other and half sat up on the table.
	Then she gasped deeply for air, wide-mouthed.
	Stryker punched her cunt hard and as she gave out a breathy grunt, bending
forward, he grabbed her by her shoulders put his cock to her baby cooze
and slammed into her again pushing her back on the table.  The men didn't need
to hold her down now - she was weakened from their brutal assault and no longer
even tried to escape.  Doug and Jake rubbed their cocks in her face.  Stryker
ordered her to lick their balls and suck their cocks as he slid rhythmically in and out
of her.
	Jane watched Stryker pull out of Holly and move back to Beth.  She watched
with horror as he pried Beth's legs open and pussy-punched her repeatedly.  When
Beth tried to sit up he slapped her face hard, moved in and pushed his prick
into her ravaged sexhole leaning forward to slam her against the table.
	Stryker looked at Jake across the table and nodded at Holly who was
licking the underside of Doug's stiff erection.
	"Use er. Break er. Both of you."
	Jake smiled and circled around the table.
	In horror, Jane Wades watched Jake and Doug take Holly.  Jake slid into
the child's raped loveslit and Doug pushed his fat prick into her small red mouth,
her head hanging back off the table's edge.
	The black wooden table creaked noisily as the killers raped the twins.
	Jane hung on the dizzying edge of madness. Broken and humiliated she
was now forced to watch the unleashing of sadistic male violence on her
helpless children.  She tried to keep a grip on her sanity but it was as if she was
sliding down an icy slope, slick and cold, with nothing to grab on to and as she
slid further the angle of descent became steeper and the darkness ahead loomed
larger.  In her mind the memory of that closet she'd been trapped as a child
was at the center of the darkness - a suffocating darkness that sought to claim
her mind as well as her soul.  She tried to silence the horrible thoughts that
assailed her.  She tried to figure out where they came from and how she could
possibly think them but it was impossible to do so.  Why for example was she
suddenly seeing her own hands around Holly's throat, her sharp manicured
nails tearing into her baby's throat?  Why did she suddenly feel the world
from Stryker's sado-murderous perspective?  Its as though when he'd raped
her he'd inseminated her with some kind of mind-destroying poison.  She thought
of the way Jake and Doug had tortured her after the three killers had
murdered the five girls in the other room and somehow she felt as though
she wanted to be on their side - murdering and raping and hurting - she was weak
and now she needed to hurt more - to bleed more - to die - the darkness was
thick and it was going to swallow her alive.  She was losing track of time and
place. She drifted for several seconds into the nebulous memories of a
flying Cessna in her childhood - of thick green jungles - of exotic Brazilian
birds.  She'd seen two dark-skinned natives fucking in the clearing behind
the house she was living in. How old was she - ten? eleven?  She didn't
understand what she was seeing then not until years later.  And now - now
fucking was all there was - fucking was the only thing that made sense -
the hard masculine thrust into female wetness - the submission of the
female drawing lust and violence - sliding down into eternal abysmal
darkness.
	Stryker looked down at the twins side by side on the table, Holly's
head stretched back and dangling, her mouth wide around Jake's prick,
Beth's flushed sobbing features enigmatically beautiful as she stared up
at the killer.  They belonged to him utterly now.  They were his. The
twins and the mother.  
	He pushed Beth toward the edge of the table so that her head hung
back over the edge like her sister's and he told Doug to facefuck both
twins, to deep-throat them, to gag them and choke them with his cock.
	Jane Wades wanted to die. She wanted the metal bands around her
ankles and wrists and neck to tighten, to crush her against the post.  In
her mind she saw it happening.  The steel manacles becoming hard
scaly tentacles - another hard cold tentacle sprouting from the post
and moving up between her legs up into her vagina and into her womb and up
through her belly toward her heart. The screams of the twins were intolerable. 
Their squeals and shrieks, their gagged throat-fucked groans.
	The three men switched places circling the table, Stryker pushing
his monsterprick up into Holly, Jake face-fucking both twins, Doug
grunting with pleasure as he filled Beth's baby pussy which was now hot, wet and
slimy  - wide and red from Stryker's abusive penetration.  He remembered when
he'd had her at the store, on the floor of the fitting rooms - tight and
only slightly moist.  The twins had smelled good then - freshly brought down
by Jake's lead pipe - lying unconscious - naked.  Beth's virginity had already
been lost to Jake then but now she'd been wickedly reamed.  Now both
twins were marked by Stryker's rod and they stank of sweat and shit and
fear.
	"Let's fuck em up the ass," Stryker growled.
	The girls were turned on their bellies and made to get on their knees
on the table, legs apart, both of them bending forward, their arms tugged
up behind them, wrists roped at their waist as Doug and Stryker put their
prick-heads to the small star-like anus puckers.
	In front of them Jake slowly jerked off then moved in again, going to
Holly first and taking her by the top of her head and by her neck.
	"Open wide," he ordered.
	As Jake slid his cock into Holly's throat tilting his head back, features
lax in mindless pleasure, Stryker and Doug pushed their thumbs into the
bound girls' assholes to open them up. Stryker leaned down to spit on the red
virgin meat and Doug followed suit. As Jake pulled out of Holly and moved
to Beth taking that twin's head in a similar two-handed grip and pushing
his cock into her gasping throat Stryker and Doug pushed the crowns
of their pricks against both girls'assholes.
	The twins screamed simultaneously, Beth's cry muffled against Jake's
hard meat.
	Jake tightened his grip on Beth's neck and stopped her cry.  Mucous
oozed from her nose and she stared up at the killer in front of her, eyes
bulging wide as his cock slid into her throat hole.  At the same time Doug filled her
asshole with his pistoning shaft and next to her Stryker slid deep into Holly's anus.
	Again the men rotated, each getting a taste of anal and oral sex
from the captive twins, Stryker's cock nearly dislocating Beth's and Holly's
jaws as he pushed his slick manmeat into their throats pinching their
nostrils and gripping their throats, pulling out to let them breathe, slapping
their faces and pushing back in.
	Jane drifted in and out but never stopped hearing the screams of her children
and the foul-mouthed cursing and laughter of the killers.  Her psychological
devastation was well under way as her body sagged against the metal bands that
held her to the post.  Stryker studied her occasionally during the ongoing rape of
the twins using the bodies and mouths of the Wades girls to get himself higher, to
raise him to a killing pitch. 
	The twins cries eventually grew weaker and their movements less responsive
under the onslaught.  A couple of times the men got carried away with
them strangling them unconscious before having to slap them awake.
Stryker made them lick his balls and asshole and tilted their heads back
to spit in their eyes and in their open mouths before shoving his cock
down their throats.
	The savage child-rape continued for over an hour until all three men
were keyed up to dizzying levels of unstoppable sadistic excitement.  Then Stryker
went to Jane Wades and released her from the post.
	He reached down and hoisted his barely conscious victim up on her
knees by her hair.
	Three hard slaps brought her back.
	"Listen up, cunt," he spat. "We're gonna play a little game and I'm gonna
give you the rules."
	Stryker's game was about to take Jane Wades and her daughters to
the next step on their journey of suffering.
	It was simple really, devastatingly simple.
	The twins were untied, lifted from the table and hung by their cuffed wrists
from overhead chains then lifted up off their feet.  There was not much struggle left
in them after the rape.
	Their legs were upfolded and the ankles secured to the thighs.
	Stryker worked a panel of buttons on the wall and two steel cylinders
slid upward from the floor under the suspended sisters.
	Doug and Jake held each girl steady as the tips of the cylinders, shaped like
steel dildos, pushed up into Beth's and Holly's ravaged pussies.  The girls twitched
and moaned as five inches of metal slid upward.  But even though they were in
obvious discomfort the steel dildos were easier to accept than Stryker's brutal
tattooed appendage and the hard pounding cocks of the killer's men.
	Jane Wades knelt on the floor in a haze of pain, broken-boned and bloody,
unable to comprehend what was happening.
	And then Stryker was standing over her.
	He was pulling two steel handles down from above. The handles were
attached to two steel cables that led back up into a metal box in the ceiling.
	"Take them," he told Jane.
	With a grunt of pain she reached up and took the handles from him.  They
felt cold in her hands and they sent a chill through her.  The pain of her cracked
knee and broken arm sent hollow aftershocks through her.
	"This is the way it works," Stryker said standing over her watching the
impact of his words on his defenseless victim.
	"Two hundred volts will move through the steel shafts your daughters are
impaled on each time I throw the switch."
	Jane peered up at him through swollen bloodshot eyes, trembling.
	"You can stop it anytime you want by pulling down on the handles."
	He waited before telling her the rest, making sure she was alert and that
she could understand his every word.
	"When you do, the current will automatically be transferred to the handles,
understand?"
	"Ngg -" she muttered drooling stupidly.
	"I guess that means yes," Stryker said and moved to the panel on the wall.
	"Nnn - bbgg -" Jane grunted.
	Stryker threw the switch.
	Instantly Beth and Holly shrieked wide-mouthed and wide-eyed and they
began to shimmy wildly on the shafts. A loud buzzing sound filled the room.
	"NnnNNN!" Jane Wades cried and then she pulled down on the handles
	It felt as if a hundred angry wasps had suddenly alighted on her hands
to sting her.  Reflexively, she released the metal grips.
	Holly and Beth began their screaming dance again.
	"GGhhhaaaa!" Jane cried and reached up for the handles.
	Stryker moved toward her, grabbed her arms, pulled them down and
brought his knee up sharply into her chest.
	As she bent forward he punched her face as hard as he could sending her
sprawling on her back halfway across the room. Jake and Doug cheered.
	Jane rolled over and crawled back toward Stryker.
	Her little girls were screaming, impaled on the steel shafts.  If she didn't
get to those handles the electricity would kill them.
	Stryker watched her come, watched her rise up on her knees and 
reach for the handles.  He grabbed the top of her head by her hair,
and punched her face twice.  She spat up blood on his thighs.  He rubbed his
cock on her puffy cheeks and slammed his fist into her chin.  She gave a choked
off cry and crumpled to the floor on her side.  Stryker stomped his heel into her
cracked knee and as she screamed in pain he stomped on her broken arm and then
her hand shattering the index and third fingers at the knuckles.
	Beth and Holly were gasping for air, shuddering on the electrical
shafts, bubbly foam spilling from their lips.
	"Better grab those handles," Stryker told Jane standing over her.
	With dark amusement he watched her struggle back up on her knees.
	"Hurry up mom - or your kiddies will be toast."
	He watched her take the handles, the hand he'd stomped on already swelling
darkly.
	Jane pulled down on and the muscles on her hands involuntarily 
wrapped her fingers around the metal handles as the electricity slammed into her.
	"Ung - ng - ng - ng - ng - ng - ng," she sputtered, dancing feverishly
to the jolts of electrical energy surging through her.
	"Beautiful," Stryker commented slow-stroking himself.
	The three men circled around her as she hung from the handles
jerking and shuddering spitting up bloody foam.
	"Let's see if we can get mom to let go," Stryker said moving to the
wooden cabinet on the wall.
	

	When Jane looked up all three men had whips.
	The whips had short silvery metallic tongues.
	They began to beat her.
	The metallic whips hissed like angry vipers as they cut through the air.
	When they tore into her sparks seemed to explode from them, they cut
and burned simultaneously.
	"Bitch!" Doug snarled as he swung down on her.
	"Cunt!" Jake spat as he struck.
	"Let's flay the skin off er!" Stryker urged.
	The slashing strips cut deep. 
	The men beat her back and belly and tits and arms and face but she would
not let go.  She hoped the electricity would kill her and she could just hang
there and keep it from Beth and Holly.
	"Grraaaaaa - hhuhhh -" she shrieked. "Ha-aahrderr! Yesssss! Beeat mee!
Brreak m-me!"
	"Yeahh!" Stryker roared.  He slashed at her legs and feet.
	Doug beat her tits raw.
	Jake slashed at her cunt.
	And then all three of them slashed at her arms and hands.
	She was being cut to the bone.
	The atrociously suffering bitch tried to get her legs under her, tried to get up,
but could manage only to dangle from the metal handles, her dark hair smouldering,
frizzy, her beaten eyes bleeding.
	Finally she could hang on no longer and she let go falling to the floor.
	Beth and Holly leapt to life on the steel shafts.

	
	Stryker grabbed Jane by the scruff of her neck and raised her head
so that she could see her daughters dancing impalement.
	Smoke wafted up from the punished pussies of the bouncing twins.
	"You can stop their pain," he said softly. "If you want to bad enough."
	The three killers stood over her, steel-tongued, blood-smeared whips still
dangling from their hands.  
	"Ghwwhh," she groaned.
	Stryker released her and she forced herself up on her haunches.
	She looked up at the steel handles dangling above her.
	"C'mon mom," Jake growled. "You can do it."
	"Kill me," she moaned. "Please - just - kill me -"
	"Not interested in saving your daughters anymore, cunt?" Stryker asked.
	Sobbing brokenly Jane looked at Holly and Beth.  They jiggled like
mindless puppets impaled on the electrical poles.  They were making odd
gurgling noises and their faces were flushed dark red.
	With a yell that surprised the men Jane suddenly leaped up and seized
the handles.
	For a moment the killers watched the twins go limp as their mother took the
electrical energy that had been flowing into them.
	The men hated her for her selfless act, for her love - a love the three killers
had never been shown - and they swung their whips into her with all the hatred
and fury they could summon.  They steel-whipped her limbs and torso, slashed
at her with all their might.
	"Kill meeeee!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "KILL MEEE!"


	"Let's give the cunt what she wants," Stryker snarls.

	
	The electrical current is shut off.
	She still hangs there.
	Doug and Jake pry her smouldering bloody hands off the metal handles
	The bitch is wire-bound by her ankles and raised to dangle upside down.
	Each killer takes a turn at fucking her bloody beaten face and mouth, at
gouging their hard meat into her throat and against her swollen eyes.
	The twins watch crying fitfully.
	The metal shafts slide out of them and back down into the floor but the girls
are left hanging up from the ceiling by their cuffed wrists, legs still folded, 
ankle-bound to their thighs.


	Stryker unsheathes his knife.
	Wordlessly, he plunges his killing blade into Jane Wades' belly to the right of
her belly button.
	He works it in deep and her punished cunt vomits blood.
	She gasps, arches, shimmies, rubs her thighs together.
	He corkscrews the knife in her making a nice-sized hole and then pulling
the blade out.
	"Gut-fucking time," he growls.
	He's the first to take her, lifting his big hard tattooed cock into the wound
he's just made in the beaten woman.  He pushes in to the hilt gripping her bloody
whipped asscheeks to hold her as he fucks her gutsac, she puking up blood and
bits of her insides.
	After a while he lets Doug and Jake take her the same way, each man
slicing a fresh hole in Jane's abdomen - three fresh cunts for the killers to fuck.
	The killers take turns gut-fucking and stabbing their slaughter-whore.

	Their knives make wet meaty sounds as they gash deep.
	Stryker slices her open from her neck to her cunt and her guts spill
out of her as Beth and Holly scream and wail for their momma.


	"Wghhh - pls - pl - pleeeease -" Jane groans, blood bubbling from her
lips.  She sees it upside down. The basement cell room.  The dead mutilated,
headless whore Rhonda with the axe in her cunt, her babies hanging helplessly,
the three killers watching her die and masturbating to it like musicians keeping
the beat to a silent melody.
	"Please what, cunt?" Stryker asks.
	" - p - please kill me - kill me - kill me - kill me -"


	She is raised higher.
	With two scooping jabs Stryker pops and slices her eyes from her sockets.	
	Jane's screams are deafening. Holly and Beth, helpless witnesses of the gross
mutilation, shriek in unison with their martyred mother.
	The killer waits for the three of them to quiet down then he wrenches the axe
from the murdered whore on the floor.
	He holds the blade up to Jane Wades' lips.
	It stinks of murdered cunt.
	"Kiss," he tells the blinded killslut.
	She does, obedient to the end.
	Thick streams of blood pour from her gouged eyes into her forehead and
hair.
	"I told you you'd taste the axe firsthand..."
	She nods slowly.
	"Fuck her babies while I kill her," he tells his men.


	Beth and Holly are lowered to the ground and untied.
	Jake takes Beth. Doug takes Holly.  They press the twins to the ground under
their weight and penetrate them roughly, Jake up Beth's asshole, Doug up Holly's
pussy.
	Stryker steps back and swings the axe.
	Jane is surprised by the loud thhunkkk! the blade makes as it sinks into
her ribcage.  She can't even scream because there is no air left in her.  The
air is sighing out through the bloodgash in her chest and Stryker is swinging
again.  Another harsh thhunkkk! and the axe slams into her left hip, crashing
through the joint and into the side of her womb.  He swings the blood-slimed
blade now into her right thigh, high up on the leg, almost at her cunt, right
to the bone, cracking her.
	"AAiiiieeeeee!" she shrieks with whatever breath is left in her.
	Unable to see the axe coming she's left only to sense its devastating power.
	More innards spill from the long cut down her middle as she jerks around.


	Doug grips Holly by her shoulders as he gives her his weight.  He smears his
lips on her sobbing face.  He loves the sound of Stryker's axe cutting down
Jane Wades.  He doesn't need to see it.  He lets his hips pound and thrust
his full erection into the little girl under him.  He likes letting go, giving rein
to the lustful killing need.  He likes it when Stryker is in charge, leading him
and Jake, telling them what to do.
	Jake pushes Beth's legs back up against her chest as he grinds his
prick deep into the twelve year old's asshole.  He's right next to Doug on the
floor and he can watch his partner rape the other twin.  He likes the breathless
little cries the girls make. He likes the way Beth's sphincter tightens around his
meat. Its nice that they're raping them while their mother is being butchered. Real
nice.  Jake's long dark hair tumbles down around his face and he fills
Beth almost up to his balls.  Holding his victim's lanky limbs under one arm he
reaches down to grab her throat and choke her while he assrapes her.

	
	Stryker loves the axe-kill.
	Axe-killing a cunt on the floor, making her lie there and reach her arms and
legs out like he did with Rhonda is nice but killing hanging blinded slutmeat is
just as nice, like chopping down a tree.
	He pounds the blade into Jane's calves, slams it into the meat of her
buttocks, wacks it into her curving spine.
	A woman's body, still surging with life and spurting blood from gruesome
hack-wounds is extremely beautiful for him.
	Jane flails her arms helplessly.
	Stryker slams the axe into her right shoulder hacking the limb off her.
	He watches her for a few moments, enjoying her, then pounds into her left
shoulder.
	A hot swath of blood sprays out of her severed limb and against his chest and
belly.
	He loves the feel of womanblood. It almost makes him cum.
	He turns to watch his men raping the twins.
	"Wish you could see what I see," he tells his hanging victim.
	Jane can only hear the whimpering of the girls and the pounding of flesh
against flesh.
	Stryker turns to her. He pushes his cockhead into her ruined eyesockets rubs
his cock on her face and into the blood pouring down her body then he draws back
and hacks the axe into her right breast.
	Moving in again he takes the armless, blinded woman's head in his free hand
and brings her to his cock.
	"Give me pleasure, pig," he growls.
	Already dizzy with the loss of blood Jane Wades obeys the killer opening
her bloody mouth wide for his monstrous organ.
	Stryker grunts working her head back and forth.  Hot blood is spraying out
of her all over the floor around him.  "You are my pig and I am your god," he says
to her. "I want you to say it before you die. Say it for me. Say: I am your pig - and
you are my god. Do it for me."
	He slides his cock out of her mouth.
	She drools blood and trembles.
	Her mind finally slips away completely.
	Like all females brought to this terminal point of suffering she surrenders
everything - mind, body and spirit.
	"I - I am y-your pig," she moans softly. He traces her bloody swollen lips as
she speaks, her gouged-out eyes..."Mnngg - an - and - gghh - you - you - are - my -
gg - god -"
	"I'm going to kill you," he tells her.
	" - y-yess -"
	"You're going to die for me."
	" - I - I want to -"
	"Your children are going to die for me."
	" - I - I kn-know -"
	"Say: Please kill my babies. Say it for me. I want to hear it. I want my men
to hear it.  But most of all I want Holly and Beth to hear it."
	"ughhhh - ngg"
	"Say it, pig. Tell me the words."
	Stryker angles her up by one ear to stare down at her sightless face.
	"Please -" she groans weakly. "Please don't make me s-say it..."
	"Come on," he snarls tugging on her ear violently. "You need to say it.
You WANT to say it."
	"gghh - pleeease -"
	Lost in confusion Jane Wades knows the killer is right.  Something in her
does want that, something she does not understand but which is primal and
impossible to repress, something that wants to GIVE.
	She shakes her head struggling to escape from the inescapable and 
then one heartbreaking sob comes from her.
	Then, a quivering sigh:
 	"Please - kill them - kill m-my babies."
	"Filth!" Stryker snarls and he pushes his cock deep into her throat. 
	"Stinking piece of trash..."
	He fucks her mouth and throat gripping her by the back of her neck and
behind him Doug and Jake, fired up by the dying woman's words, begin to grunt
and shout as they cum hilting their spurting pricks into the screaming Wades twins,
emptying their balls in the two girls.


	Stryker steps back now and with ferocious finality he drives the axe
right into Jane Wade's heart.  She arches in spastic death, her hacked up
broken legs kicking uselessly against the wire that binds her ankles.   Leaving
the axe buried in her he steps close to her still living face cupping his balls and
stroking his huge prick rapidly against her bloody cheek, feeling the maddening rush
of pleasure.
	"Die you fucking animal," he growls. "DIE!"


	Jane is falling from the sky - the clouds are rushing past - the wide
sweet green jungle prepares to receive her - she can taste the killer's sperm -
she can see again - the canopy of trees, like a thick carpet beneath her - he
has told her to die - it is his last commandment - her god's last wish - she
has been severed from life - cut free at last - the dark jungle waits for her and
she will be embraced by it and soon Beth and Holly will follow her into
the moist shadows - already she is crashing through the brown swatting
branches toward the hard cold ground...


	Its a powerful orgam that storms through Stryker.  It comes from deep inside
him as he shouts and spurts his semen into the dying woman's throat and mouth
and face.  His growling grunts of climactic release compliment and counterpoint
those of Doug and Jake who ram themselves into the twins. 
	Male supremacy and chaotic pleasure reign supreme.
	With some effort Stryker jerks the axe from Jane's chest as his orgasm
subsides.
	He needs to cut her down and he does so swinging the axe with all
his strength across her ankles severing both legs clean through.
	Jane's armless and now footless body falls to the ground with a solid
thump as Beth and Holly scream piteously.
	With a long gasping sigh Jane Wades dies.
	The carcass of the twins mother comes to rest sprawled atop Rhonda's
stiff cold cadaver, eyeless face cum-coated, her cheek on Rhonda's axe-hacked cunt, 
rich and poor brought down, finding at last equality in horrible death.
	Stryker's men get to their feet.
	The twins crawl away toward the wall to huddle there in shivering terror,
semen leaking from their punished orifices to the floor.
	
	Outside morning has come, a hard cold gray morning with the smell of rain
floating in from the tossing ocean moving across the beach on a restless breeze.


9.

	Outside on Stryker's beach the sunlight was gone and the sky was like
the hull of a battleship.  
	No longer hooded, the three killers wore robes to ward off the chill, Doug
and Jake white terrycloth, Stryker, red silk with a black cloth sash knotted around
the waist.  The twins were naked and shivering, dog-collars around their necks, long
leash chains clipped to o' rings in the collars, each twin led by one of Stryker's
killers.  The girls were made to crawl a few paces behind the sandal-shod men who
led them out on to the thick sand.
	The ocean tossed restless, capped with rolling lines of foam.  It roared
and in the distant horizon lightning flashed and long moments later
thunder boomed mutedly.
	The killers brought the two twelve-year-olds to a spot some fifty yards from
the edge of the water next to a squat windowless concrete shed and the raped girls
were yanked up on their feet.  They stood trembling, whimpering, sand-covered
arms crossed in front of them.  The welts of Stryker's rod were now dark purple
lines streaking across their backs and thighs and trickles of dry blood and manscum
ran down the inside of their thighs to their sand-smeared knees and calves. Their
hands were clasped on their arms as they tried to shield themselves from the cold
wind, their slender wrists chafed by the suspension cuffs. Their insides were sore
from the penetration of the electrical dildos and from the men's cocks.
	After the bloody butchery of their mother and their depraved and relentless
rape they'd been hoisted back up, hung by leather-cuffed wrists from the ceiling of
the basement cell while the killers went upstairs to rest, Jake and Doug in the luxury
guest rooms on the southern wing of the mansion, Stryker in his master bedroom
overlooking the ocean. 
	Now, the girls' eyes were bloodshot and expressionless. Stryker and his men
liked that.  They enjoyed the vacant look of terror they'd put on the faces of the
children.  
	After napping for a couple of hours and stopping in the kitchen to slake their
thirst with cold beer, the killers had come down to get the girls to take them out on
the beach - by then Holly and Beth were duplicate images of unendurable pain.  Just
seeing them in that state and knowing what Stryker had in store for them next got
all three killers hard again.
	Doug and Jake unclipped the leash chains from the dog collars.
	As they were pulled to their feet the girls watched Stryker go to the door of
the concrete shed and press a code into the keypad that released the lock.  He went
inside and returned with a small green metal box. He went down on one knee
before them and put the box in the sand.  When he opened it Holly and Beth saw
two objects, roughly the size of two fat ballpoint pens. They were cylindrical in
shape, slightly thicker than a cigar, each coated by what appeared to be a layer of
sandpaper-rough plastic.
	Stryker took one and held it up to show them.
	"Explosive charges," he told them. "I'm gonna put them up inside you."
	He took Holly by her hip.
	The child moaned fearfully.
	"Kinda like dynamite tampons," Jake chuckled.  Both he and Doug knew
Stryker's plan.  They'd been here before.
	"Spread your legs open," Stryker told Holly. 
	There was no hesitation.
	When the child obeyed Stryker brought the object under her and pushed
it roughly up into her vagina.  She squealed with pain as the sandpaper surface
scraped the tender ravaged tissue.  Stryker clenched his jaw and shoved the
cylinder slowly all the way up until it clung inside her.
	"Now you," he told Beth. "Spread em."
	Beth spread her pretty feet apart on the sand and then made a strangled
crying noise as Stryker shoved the second cylinder up her aching pussyhole.
	Then the killer took a small black remote control unit with a red button
switch and a thin, short protruding antenna from the green metal box on the
ground.  
	He stood, looming over his trembling victims.
	"After I press this button," he said showing the dog-collared girls the trigger
device. "You'll have roughly forty five seconds before the charges explode.  If you
try to pull the cylinders out they will automatically explode.  The only way you can
save your little poontangs is to get them to the water.  The seawater will neutralize
the explosive and you'll be able to pull out the cylinders."
	The twins looked across the wide flat beach.  Forty-five seconds.  Beth
thought they could make it.  Ten yards before the water the sand turned darker.
She wondered why.  Was the sea receeding to low tide leaving behind wet
sand?
	"Ready?" Stryker asked.
	Beth looked up at him anxiously.  She saw him raise the switchbox so they
could see it. Shit, she thought. He's going to press the button.  She looked at Holly.
Her sister appeared to be in a trance, shut down.
	Stryker pressed the button.
	Beth felt the thing he'd shoved inside her begin to buzz.
	She grabbed her sister's arm.
	"Run, Holly! Run!"
	Holly looked at her wide-eyed, not quite understanding but following Beth's
example, her legs moving sluggishly at first and then speeding up to keep pace.
Finally both twins were sprinting across the sand toward the angry ocean.
	The three killers moved quickly into the shed.
	"Hurry up," Stryker called out. "They'll be out of range soon."
	The men came back out on the beach with hand-held crossbows and fistfuls
of small thin lead-tipped arrows.
	As Beth ran, she heard the first arrow whizz by her.  She didn't know what it
was until she looked back over her shoulder and saw the killers aiming the
crossbows at them, shooting and reloading.  As the nude dog-collared girls went
farther down the beach the sand got softer sucking their bare feet down and making
it harder to move.  They were exhausted and injured from their abduction and rape
hours before and they were both soon gasping for air, dizzy, their legs weak and
rubbery.  Their skulls and Beth's ribs still ached from the initial blows of Jake's lead
pipe that had brought them down at the Venus Fly Trap fitting room. The salty air
made their welted skins sting and the objects Stryker had jammed up inside them
now vibrated hotly.
	"Zig zag, Holly!" Beth screamed, ducking and swerving from side to side as
the arrows shot past them and whiffed into the sand.  But Holly didn't seem
to understand and she continued to jog behind Beth in a bee's line toward
the water.
	"Muhhmmiee," Holly wheezed softly. "Muhhmmiee."
	Now the girls were nearly ten yards from the water. This was the area
that Beth had noticed earlier, the darker area.  To her horror it wasn't moisture
that made it darker.  This area of the beach was covered with gravel and
shards of glass.
	Stryker smiled as he saw Beth pull up short and try to reach out for her sister
to keep her from rushing headlong on to the rougher surface.  But Holly ran on
oblivious to Beth's cries.
	As the gravel and glass tore her feet Holly suddenly lost her balance and
slowed down.  As she did three arrows punched into her, two in her right
thigh and one in her left asscheek.   She screamed and toppled down.
	Beth screamed and ran toward her sister.  An arrow whistle-flew past her
face and another just over her shoulder as she bent down to help Holly.
	"Get up!" she screamed at her sister. "Get up Holly. We have to get
to the water!"
	Time was running out and Beth knew it.  She thought they might have
had ten or fifteen seconds left...that was if Stryker had told them the truth
about the explosives inside them.  The whole thing might have just been a ploy to
get them to run across the beach and make the arrow-shoot more of a sport.  
	Still she could feel the cylinder vibrating inside her.
	"Pleeease Holly - Get up!" she screamed.
	"You go," Holly blurted.
	An arrow thunked into the ground beside Beth's foot.
	"Go, Beth," Holly whimpered. "I can't - can't - hurts - h-hurts -"
	Beth tried to get her sister up on her feet but Holly screamed out as the
arrow pierced leg stretched out under her.  Another arrow slisshed by Beth.
	"GO!" Holly screamed at her.
	Unwillingly Beth released her sister and stood there for a split second.
	An arrow stung into her upper arm and she shrieked.
	"RUN!" Holly screamed again.
	Beth grabbed the arrow and yanked it out to toss it on the ground then she
turned sobbing fretfully and finally ran toward the water, her foot soles ripped to
blood as she moved over the broken glass and sharp gravel.
	For a moment the sun gleamed through a small crack in the cloud cover
gleaming on the swirling green water in front of her as she ran into the surf and
then dove into the waves.  She sank under the cold icy foam and spread her legs. 
The salt water stung into her wounded feet and welts and into the arrow wound in
her arm - it blinded her but she felt the buzzing inside her subside and she pushed
her thumb and forefinger into her vagina to yank out the explosive cylinder. She
came up sputtering for breath lobbing the disabled device out toward the open
ocean, turning to see Holly crawling toward the water on hands and knees.
	Farther up the beach the men were moving toward them.
	Beth saw that her sister had managed to pull the arrows out of her
leg and butt and now she was struggling to her feet.  Two more arrows
stuck out on her back just below her right shoulder.
	Suddenly there was a muffled popping sound and Holly seemed to freeze,
wide-eyed for a moment - then her head tipped back, her eyes filled with the bright
sunlight which seemed to spotlight her and she shrieked in agony.
	Stryker's ingenious explosive device had detonated inside the hapless twin.
	Dark blood and bits of gut and flesh exploded from her pussy in thick
splashing streams.  She staggered for two steps, still screaming and then as two
more arrows thudded into her lower back she toppled face down on the sand.
	"Hooolly!" Beth screamed.  For a second she felt the violence of the
exploding cylinder in her own womb, the piercing heat of the arrowbolts - she lived
her twin sister's agony and slid down into the water to kneel in the surf.  
	She looked up and saw the killers approaching - they were moving down the
beach purposefully toward her. 
	The sun was moving back into the clouds.
	Suddenly Beth wanted to live.  The instinct to survive filled her and
she turned and began swimming out toward the ocean.  She had no clue where
she was going but she was going to try to escape.  She had to.
	The killers now strode on sandalled feet across the gravel and broken glass to
where Holly lay writhing on the sand near the water.  Holly's arms and face bobbed
gently, caressed by the incoming waves that rolled in and out.
	Stryker stood over her.
	"Almost made it," he said.
	"Yeah but almost doesn't fuckin' count," Doug said.
	"Where's the other one think she's going?" Jake said looking out at the small
naked figure in the ocean.  Beth had started swimming paralell with the beach
heading north.
	"Unless she can swim in that shit for ten miles she's not going anywhere."
	"I'll go after her," Stryker said. "You can take this one back to the house.  I
don't think she has much further left to go.  Play with her if you want but don't
finish her.  I want to take them both out myself."
	"Don't worry. We'll leave her for you, boss," Jake said. "We'll each take
one for the road from her and then we'll start back.  What do you think, Doug?"
	"Shit, yeah," Doug added. "I'm beat. Between all this shit now and the shit
last night I'm ready to pack it in.  But I can definitely go one last time on this little
bitch."
	Stryker smiled.
	"Good," he said.  His hawkish emerald eyes tracked Beth as she swam
desperately in the tossing waves.  "You guys go ahead. I'll go after our little
stray kitten."
	"You're the man," Jake said.
	Doug and Jake leaned down and grabbed Holly by her arms lifting her
up between them.
	Her head tipped back and she looked up into their faces and at the rolling
brackish clouds in the sky above them.  A trickle of blood spilled from her cute
little mouth.  Blood continued to spill from her shattered cunt and from the arrow
wounds.
	"Mm-muhmma?" she grunted.
	"Your momma's dead, bitch," Jake snarled. "And you and your sister'll be
joinin' er soon."
	Holly's eyes teared up. the killers smiled with sadistic pleasure.
	"But not before we've had some more fun with you," Doug added.
	Both killers smiled with sadistic pleasure.
	Doug then brutally yanked the last two arrows out of her back and he and
Jake seized the child, one on each of her arms, and dragged her slowly and
purposefully between them across the gravel and broken glass allowing her legs to
be cut up some more.  Her blown-out cunt and cut-up limbs left bloodlines on the
glimmering shards and then on the pale sand as they hauled her up the beach and
back toward the house.  She did not struggle and her head hung on her chest and
she moaned weakly.
	Stryker watched them go then he looked down at the crossbow in his hand.
It was loaded and cocked.  There were six arrows in his robe pocket.  He
turned and began to follow the shoreline in the same direction Beth was
swimming.
	


	Choking as the seawater poured into her nostrils and down her throat Beth
moved through the violently tossing waves. Cramps twisted her legs and arms as
she tried to keep swimming but she knew she wasn't to be able to go to go much
further.  She turned toward the shore and made for the thick wooded area that
bordered Stryker's house.  She could see the crossbow-armed killer coming in her
direction but she had enough of a lead that she thought she could get to shore and
into the woods before he got there.
	The arrow wound in her upper arm bled and stung as she got into shallow
water and rose up out of the surf.  Her thin pale body gleamed wetly as she
struggled out of the waves and up the beach.  There was no gravel and broken glass
here and she scampered quickly into the sand and toward the trees.
	Stryker began to jog unhurriedly in her direction, watched her disappear
into the dense shrubbery and smiled.
	The killer always enjoyed a good hunt.  Especially when the prey was as
weak and defenseless as this little one.
	The ground was covered with stinging pine needles and pine cones that
pierced into Beth's sand-smeared cut up footsoles.  But she ignored the pain
and ran deeper on.  There had to be a road somewhere past Stryker's property and
if there was a road she thought there might be other people, other houses, someone
to help her. Branches struck at her naked skin and she held her hand over the arrow
wound to try and keep it from bleeding. Her hair clung to her cheeks and over her
eyes.  Somewhere behind her she heard heavy steps coming. The killer was right
behind her.
	The frightened hunted child began to make little panicky out of breath noises
as she stumbled into thicker and thicker undergrowth and after she got past a row
of old pine trees netted with vines she unexpectedly came to the fence.
	She gave out a small frustrated cry and looked up.
	The wire mesh barrier was ten feet high and loops of bladed barbed wire ran
along the top of it. It was rusty and covered with vines.
	Beth knew she had no choice. She threw herself up against it and began to
climb.
	By the time Stryker rushed past the row of pines she was halfway to the top,
wet toes and fingers scrabbling into the gaps in the mesh as she pulled herself
upward.
	"Come down," he ordered.
	She didn't respond.  The panicky noises she had been making all along came
faster and shriller.
	"I said come the FUCK down!" Stryker roared.
	He let her take two more steps then he raised the crossbow, aimed it at her
calves and fired.
	The first arrow went almost all the way through her leg.
	"AAOOOWWW!" she keened, clinging to the wobbling wire mesh on the
fence.
	Stryker reloaded and fired again.
	The second arrow pierced right through her left foot and that leg kicked free
of the fence.
	Still in pitiful desperation Beth continued to climb.
	By the time Stryker had reloaded her hands were in the bladed barbed wire
the child's palms and fingers already bleeding.
	Stryker stepped in under her, took aim, smiled and pumped an arrow right
up between the twelve year old's upper thighs.  It slammed into the soft tissue
between her abused cunt and ravaged rectal star entering her like a hot knife into
warm butter.
	She let out a piercing shriek and swung away from the fence, still clinging by
one hand to the mesh, looking down at her attacker with horror. A brief moment
later she lost her grip and fell six feet to the hard ground at his feet, winded and
bleeding.
	He stood over her, took aim and pumped another arrow into the unhurt foot,
nailing her to the ground.  She buried her face in the moist pine needles and
screeched.
	He was tempted to reload the weapon and shoot a  couple of arrows through
her throat and face and finish her right there but he held back.
	This brave little sweetie pie deserved worse. Much fucking worse.
	He went down on his knees beside her and began to yank out the arrows
as she screamed her guts out. Eventually the pain was too much for her and
she passed out.
	Stryker peeled off his red silk robe and laid Beth Wades out on top of it on
the forest ground.  The booming thunder was now closer.  He could hear the ocean
out there beyond the woods roaring louder and he heard the first smattering
raindrops come crashing down from the gray sky through the leaves and branches.
	He had left the last arrow in her, the one that had plunged between her
vagina and rectum.  He now gripped it and slowly extracted it.  It made a wet
sucking noise as it popped free. Beth groaned, groggy, still unconscious  and a slight
shudder ran through her.
	Putting the arrow aside the killer moved in over the inanimate child
smiling, slowly pumping himself, his long tattooed penis alread fully erect. He looked
at her cute face.  Her eyelids were shut but fluttering and her lips were slightly
open forming a silent o' of pain and surprise left frozen there. Stryker 
crouched down and pulled Beth's lanky legs apart, his large bald head swooping
down as the cold raindrops began to patter against his pale back and skull.  Licking
his lips he opened his mouth and pressed it to the small bleeding woundhole slowly
and deeply beginning to drink.
	"Mmmmmmm," he moaned as Beth's blood oozed against his tongue.
	He pressed his tongue into the deep arrow wound.
	He tasted her little cunt and her little shithole and her hot lifejuice still salty
with seawater.
	He could smell her guts.
	He drank from his child victim and his balls ached and swelled.
	He moved over her to drink from each wound, the one in her calf, the ones
in her small feet and the one in her arm. Then he came back to the one between her
babycunt and anus, holding her legs up and apart to get complete access to his child
victim.
	"Ahhh," Stryker moaned, lost in blissful cannibalistic ecstasy.
	The rain now fell in cold sheets and the trees danced wildly in the stormy
wind.
	The killer was beside himself with pleasure.  
	He had made a new cunt in his little slave and he wanted to fuck it now.
	He had drank from it and he would fuck it.
	Scootching up to her he put the head of his murderous cock to the arrow
wound just below her pussyhole.
	He held her small bleeding legs apart and leaned down into her, pushing
slowly forward, penetrating, filling the flesh and then ripping it.
	"Ahhh yeeeahhhhh," he groaned darkly, tilting his head back as the rain
poured into his eyes blinding him, running in cold streams down his hot
energized body. "Goddammmmm fuckkkkkk....shittt..."
	He looked down at his unconscious victim and the urgent sensation of
complete sadistic power raged in him.  He began to fuck her savagely,
opening the wound until there was one continuous ripped gash from her
cunthole to her anus, until the full lenght of his massive organ was accomodated
inside Beth.  
	He leaned down, his hands on her small shoulders, and he smeared his bloody
lips on her pretty face and mouth.
	He bit her neck and shoulders.
	His robe under the child was rainsoaked.  The ground became muddy and his
knees sank into it as he slammed down into her, pressing his tattooed chest down
against hers.  And the rain continued to flood down on both of them, killer and
victim, sanctifying the bloody act, blessing it from above.
	Stryker came to the edge of orgasm and kept himself there for long
interminable minutes of sadistic nirvana.   This was one of the best kill-fucks
ever. He was higher than he'd ever felt - he flashed back on the little girl
he'd slaughtered at Trevale, the abandoned school - the one that had called him
God - It seemed to him that since then he'd been on a higher plateau of
existence.  All the kills since then had seemed specially charged with
fresh meaning.  There had been that woman named Karen he'd
butchered at his estate in the mountains out west.  That bitch had
opened some doors for him.  He was going places few men ever even
had a clue about.  Now he yearned for the final takedown of the twins.
He knew it would be another unforgettable experience - one that would
change him forever.
	Even though he wanted to kill little Beth right there, to fuck her
to death, to eat her alive under the dancing trees in the midst of the wild rainstorm,
he knew he needed it to be better, to be more intense.  He needed both twin
children to do a final slaughterdance for him - just for him and no one else. Slowly,
reticently, he slid out of the child's wounded innards and lifted her up into his arms,
her dripping head draped down over his left arm.
	Carrying his victim effortlessly, the naked killer made his way through the
rain, out of the woods and back out to the muddy beach.
	He stood for a moment looking out at the raging ocean and the
angry lightning streaked sky.
	Then he turned and made his way slowly up the muddy beach to the house.


10.

	Stryker finds Holly where Doug and Jake have left her, hanging inverted by
one foot in the main torture chamber, dripping blood from the arrow wounds and
from her blasted-out womb, thin scarlet rivulets running down her chest and off her
shoulders, down her neck, over her face, into her downhanging hair.  She moans
softly, eyes closed, slight quivers spending themselves in her wounded limbs, gobs of
sperm spattered on her face and on her torn-apart sex-slit.
	A scrap of paper is tacked to her belly:
	"Not much left but she's all yours, boss. Have fun - with both bunnies! C-ya
soon."
	Stryker lays Beth who is still unconscious, rain-soaked and bleeding, on the
wooden table near the wall.
	He's alone with the twins now, ready to claim what is indisputably his.
	Cool moisture drips in sluggish beads down his back and legs.
	He's going to need lots of final pain from these little ones - lots of it.
	From a shelf in the storage closet off the main chamber he takes the small vial
and the plastic syringe.
	He injects both girls with a high almost lethal dose of amphetamines pushing
the needle deep into the artery in each victim's arm, watching them closely as they
begin to regain consciousness.
	Moving purposefully he rips the note from Holly's belly and lowers her to the
floor to drag her by her tangled blood-wet hair to the center of the room.  From the
closet he brings two metal chairs.  The chairs have steel cuffs at the armrests and on
the front legs, an inch from the floor. Stryker places the sisters in the torture chairs
facing each other, securing the cuffs at wrists and ankles,  waiting until the drug he
has injected into both of them takes full effect.
	He looks down on his twin captives.  In their suffering they are exquisite.
	Twin cherubs fallen from the sky, dragged into the depths of hell.  The small 
arrow wounds in them have for the most part stopped bleeding.  Holly is
in much worse shape than her sister, pale, her breath ragged as the amphetamines
kick in.  Stryker is surprised she has survived the explosion in her womb and
the rape afterwards - he's sure Doug and Jake cut her no slack - but he's glad she
has.
	Gradually both sisters fully awaken and stare wide-eyed up at him,
trembling, fidgeting in the cold metal chairs, tugging against the manacles
and wrist cuffs.  He continues to watch them as they begin to whimper, the pain
from their wounds slowly but surely amplified by the effect of the amphetamines.
	He moves to Holly first, stands directly in front of her, between both
sisters.
	"Say: You are my god," he tells her.
	She looks up at him shivering weakly.
	"Y-you - you - ahm - are - my g-god."
	He nods approvingly and strokes himself in front of her and she watches him
get bigger.  Blood trickles from her blown-out pussy.
	"Now say: my soul is yours."
	His reptilian eyes bore into hers. She can't look away.
	" - m-my - my -"
	"My soul is yours. Say it."
	" - my s-soul is y-yours -"
	"Very nice."
	Stryker turns to Beth.
	"You are my god - say it, you little whore."
	"No."
	He smiles. He enjoys her defiance.
	"You tried to run away from me.  That didn't work. Now you won't obey
me. You should learn to be more like your sister."
	The child is visibly in pain but her dark brown eyes smoulder passionately
through the strands of rain-soaked hair.
	"You killed my momma," she snarls.
	"Yes. And I'm going to kill both of you as well. Kill you - and take your
souls."
	Beth bites her lip and tears fill her eyes.
	"I don't care. I won't say those words! I won't!"
	"You will.  You will say those words and more. You will say whatever I want
you to say."
	Stryker goes to the storage closet. He returns to the terrified sisters and leans
over Holly.  Beth sees him take her sister's right hand and draw her thin fingers into
a square steel device which grips each digit in a separate metal sleeve.  Again he
goes to the closet and he comes back with a pair of large black pliars.
	"Watch," he tells Beth. "Whatever your sister endures you will endure as
well.  That's only fair, don't you think? You are identical twins after all.  I can't
deprive one of what I give the other."
	He grips the metal box attached to the child's delicate hand and he takes the
edge of her thumb-nail with the pliars.
	"Watch carefully. Look at her face. Feel her suffering."
	Slowly, patiently, Stryker yanks out Holly's thumbnail, ripping it out as she
wails and tosses her head back.  
	Then he takes her index finger.
	"Nooo!" Beth shrieks.
	"Watch. Just fuckin' watch," the killer snarls.
	With cruel determination Stryker pulls out each nail from Holly's hand, tears
them out by the roots and lets them drop to the floor by her feet.  Weakly,
ineffectively, Holly tries to yank her arm back but the manacle at her wrist
keeps it in place for the torture.  Both sisters scream, Holly's cries shriller.
Stryker smiles, clenches his jaw with determination with each pull on the black
pliars.
	Blood streams from Holly's mutilated limb.
	When he's finished the killer tightens the bolts in the box and each of Holly's
bloody fingers is crushed, the joints snapping as the child keens frenziedly.  When
the killer finishes with her right hand he attaches the metal box to her left and
begins again.
	"Stop it!" Beth wails. "Stop it! Don't hurt her any more!"
	Stryker smiles, lifts the pliars to Holly's small hand.
	"I'm just getting started, sweetie...just getting started....and don't forget -
You're next."
	In horror Beth watches the brutal killer rip Holly's nails from the left hand
and then tighten the bolts to break her sisters' frail fingers.
	Holly's screams hurt Beth's ears.
	When Stryker's done he stands facing Beth, the metal box in his hand.
	The red cartoon tattoo on his chest shines wetly.  Her drug-heightened vision
is blinded by the bright color, impacted by the stabbing dagger and the swirling
ribbon.  Woman Killer. It proclaims. Woman Killer. Woman Killer. Woman Killer.
Burning into her eyes. 
	"Think I should do her feet as well?" he asks smirking.
	"Oh nooo! Pleeease! Pleease!"
	Stryker turns to look down at Holly's feet.  They are cut and bloody from
the glass and gravel on the beach. He salivates like a hungry jackal.  He needs to
punish those arched well-shaped limbs to destruction.  He kneels before Holly and
leans down to lick her bloody limbs scouring and scooping between her toes,
tonguing the torn skin.  He licks up each leg, skipping over the metal bands that
grip the ankles to the knees, to nibble and bite
	"Mmmm - Yes, I think your cutesy little toes will need my attention,
honeybunch,  I really do."
	"N-ngg- ghhh -" gasps Holly.  The pain she's already experienced has taken
her elsewhere. There are no words for it.
	Begging the killer to spare her sister Beth watches helplessly as Stryker
attaches the device to Holly's right foot.  Under the overhead lights the flesh on the
killer's back seems to glow as the muscles ripple powerfully, his spinal cord like a
thick corrugated steel cable. He pays no attention to Beth's constant pleading.
	Cruelly and methodically Stryker begins to rip out little Holly's toenails.
	The tortured child dances in the metal chair for him and Stryker licks his lips
and smiles.
	This is what he likes.
	Imposing terrible pain. Most wonderfully on a little girl.
	The loud crack from Holly's shattering foot and her hysterical wail make
Beth shake her head and sob.
	The amphetamines amplify the sensations of pain and terror for both children
without letting them pass out and escape the severe psychological trauma.
	Beth's vision blurs with her tears and with the effect of the drug.
	Her mind tries to let go of the gruesome reality in Stryker's chamber but
it won't - instead she perceives each minute detail with feverish clarity - Holly's
shrill agony, screams like silver needles driving into Beth's skull - the crunching
and tearing sounds of nails and bone - the vivid bits of flesh, cartilage and torn
meat lying on the floor all around Holly like party confetti - pieces of her sister's
body - memories of the beach - Holly exploding, twisting under the flickering
sunlight - the cold ocean tossing Beth around like a tiny cork as she tried
to escape - the woods and finally the fence and the arrows plunging into her -
sinking deep - rising up into her, raping her, bringing her down to
the ground - she can feel each wound in her screaming for attention - especially
the one down there between her thighs - a gaping fuckhole of pain - the dim
fuzzy memory of Stryker sucking and nibbling there - And
like a constant buzzing backdrop the hideous hacking butchery of her mother
bringing inconsolable grief, utter despair and mindless terror.
	Helplessly Beth watches the killer attach the metal box now to Holly's other
foot.  He crouches before her sister and she sees him apply the pliars - For a
moment both sisters look into each other's eyes sharing the hopeless agony and
then Holly's head rears backward and the shrill screaming begins again.
	This room is larger than the ones the girls have been in before, more
cavernous, and the echoes of Holly's relentless suffering seem to bounce and careen
off the walls.
	It seems to go on and on but finally Stryker stands before Beth with
the metal box and the pliars, both dripping blood.
	"Ready?" he asks.
	There is no answer to that question - no need for one.
	It is Beth's turn to endure.
	The pain is beyond all of Beth's possible imaginings.  Each time
the pliars swoop down and take a fingernail and yank it is as if her very soul were
being torn from her and dipped into a caouldron of boiling oil.
	Up close she can see the pleasure Stryker takes from this bit by bit
torture.  He smiles at her, reaches down to stroke himself occasionally, leans
close to lick her face or nibble on her lips as she sobs brokenly.
	By the time he breaks her right hand and moves the box to her left she's
begging mindlessly and non-stop - she's ready to do anything he wants from
her.  She's ready to give him everything - but he doesn't care now - he doesn't
care for what she can give anymore.  He's taking.  He's breaking, disassembling,
deconstructing her slowly, enjoying every single moment of it.
	Unable to shut down because of the amphetamines coursing in her
bloodstream Beth just hurts and suffers and bleeds and cries and screams for 
her owner...yes - she admits the killer as her owner now - there is no other
way for her to see it - he owns her and Holly - he owns mother - he owns
the day and the night - he is god as he says - her god above all others - her
sanity has been swept away forever.
	He puts the metal box on her frail cut-up foot now and tongue-kisses her.
	His head dips down and he bites her thigh.
	She moans softly then cries out sharply as his finger prods at the arrow
wound he's already used for a fuckhole.
	Then he's working on her and the ripping burning pain moves through
her like the bursting shocks of electrical energy did earlier when she and
Holly were hung over the steel shafts and mother tugged on the handles
to stop their suffering - mother can't do anything now for them - for
either one of them - mother gave her all to the knifing and blood-rape - to Stryker's
axe... Beth chokes on her tears - she screams and her screams are unrecognizable
like someone else's - like a dying animal's - she doesn't even know her own voice
anymore.
	"Bitch!' the killer snarls tightnening the bolts on the box.
	His eyes glare with green hatred.  She drowns in it.
	Her foot shatters and hot javelins of agony shoot up her leg.
	And then he's putting the box on her other foot beginning again.
	"Say the words," he tells her. "Say them sweetie."
	" - ugghh - you - you - you aagg - are m-my - g-godd!"
	"That's better."
	" - you are my god - you are my god - you are m-ggg -"
	He kneels in front of her takes her head in his hands and kisses her, presses
his hard cold lips into hers, presses his tongue against her gums and teeth and
into the softness of her little mouth.
	Choking. Drowning.
	"Much better...Now say - my - soul - is - yours -"
	She looks into his eyes and feels him taking it from her -
	" - m-my - soul - uhg - izz - y-yourrzz -"
	He smiles gloatingly and then he's bending down to work on her other foot,
slow-tearing, slow-ripping - enjoying her crazed anguish.




	Beth tips her head back against the metal chair's back rest and looks up
into the beam of a halogen light right over her.  She feels the light - she is
in a pool of pain and the light is her god's single cyclopic uninterested uncaring
eye staring down at her.
	The killer is doing something across the room.
	She does not want to know what.
	He is preparing something - a long metal shaft in his hand - she hears the pop
of a gas flame.
	Holly's head hangs down on her chest.  She's muttering softly.
	" - don't let him get us mummy - don't let him get us - gggh - don't -
uhh - he's gonna - ugg - hurts - hurts - mummy - Beth's swimming, mummy -
she's far away - he's coming - they're coming -"
	She shakes her head slowly from side to side.
	" - not my fault - no - mummy - its Beth - Beth - the store - ow - they
hurt us - no - no more - no more - no more -"
	And then Stryker is standing over her, reaching down to grab her by the hair
and lift her face so he can look into her blown out eyes.  The tip of the hot steel
shaft glows red and smoulders.
	" - no more -"
	He says nothing only lifts the shaft to the child's puffy breast bud and
pushes the hot metal right into her pink nipple.	
	The killer licks his lips.
	Holly sits straight up in the chair her mutilated hands and feet waggle,
she arches and throws her head back to scream.
	"Thought that would get your attention," he snarls. "Burn, you little shit!"
	Holly's nipple bubbles and fries as the glowing shaft presses inward. It
rips open squirting blood.
	"Yeahh," Stryker growls moving the shaft to Holly's other breast burning
a thin dark streak across her chest, gouging her other nipple, tracking down her
gasping belly to her belly button and lower, touching the sizzling steel to her
swollen little cunt. "Burn for me - mmmmm - burnnnn -"
	"Yiiiiieeeiiiii!" Holly keens.
	Beth watches silently, lips gaping.
	Stryker moves the torture metal  over Holly's thighs lovingly leaving
charred tracks all over the child's white skin pushing the sharp tip of the
rod into her knees, piercing with exploratory jabs, gripping her head by the hair
and watching her screaming face intently.  He moves it down her arrow-wounded
calves and to her shattered feet burning each bloody nail-less toe, cauterizing
the bloody broken flesh then leaving her smouldering and rocking on the chair he
turns to Beth.
	"Tell me you love me," he growls.
	She looks up into his evil glaring visage.
	" -  I - love - you -"
	"Say it again, pig."
	" - ghh - I love you."
	"Love me - hurt for me -"
	Sneering wickedly he leans forward slightly to give her the heated shaft.
	He brings it to her stiff erect nipple nudging gently but firmly against her to
burn her, to scald the immature tit to cut it open and move across her chest and
ribcage, just as with Holly, leaning over her as she wails to spit in her face and burn
her other small breast, small nub not yet big enough to fill even a junior bra, little
handful of sensitive girlie flesh now sizzling and bubbling to the touch of the burning
shaft.  Still smiling Stryker moves the metal down her sweat-glossed belly marking
and roasting her.  He punishes his little child meat with patient cruelty now
drawing the heated shaft down to her pussy and lower to the arrow wound tracing
the outside of the gashed meat.
	"Who do you belong to?" he asks leaning close, his face inches from hers.
	Mesmerized, lost in his evil and broken with pain she cries out her answer.
	"Youu! Youu! I belong to youuuuu!"
	His hand grips her by her neck as he thrusts the heated shaft up into the
arrow wound between her thighs.
	"Then suffer for me you little shittt."
	He works the steel in and out of her.  It hisses and smoulders.  He presses
his thumb into her throat and watches her choke and dance in the chair
trying to bring her thighs together but unable to her legs trapped by the 
ankle cuffs.  He doesn't send the metal deep - he doesn't want to wound her
mortally with it - just torture her - just toy with her - just enjoy her
mind-killing agony.
	Taking the sizzling shaft from the arrow wound her lifts it to her
slit pressing the tip against her clit-nub.  He has to grip Beth tighter by the
neck to keep her down.  It seems like she will rip herself off the chair.  
It seems like her voice-box will be torn apart in her throat with her
frenetic screams.  He likes the way her screaming throat feels under his
thumb and he squeezes hard - squeezes the screams down to gurgling
hissing gasps.
	Then he puts the metal shaft on the floor next to the chair. He needs
to put his prick inside the beautiful twelve year old where he has just left off burning
her.
	He releases her legs from the chair's cuffs and her feet dangle brokenly
as he raises her legs up and spreads them, gripping her by her ankles, pulling her
butt out to the edge of the chair seat, crouching slightly, pushing the crown of his
long fat prick to the burned meat of the arrow wound just below her pussy.
	For the second time he's gonna fuck her there - he's gonna open
her up even more -
	He needs to.
	The smouldering ring of burned flesh feels heavenly around his prick as he
plunges forward.
	The chair creaks and Beth grunt-chokes.
	Stryker's fingers grip her thighs like metal vises.
	"Now -" he grunts, biting his lip. "Now you're all mine - uhhh - yeahh -
aaallll mine!"
	Relentlessly he drives all fourteen inches of man meat up Beth's woundhole,
all of it, the whole length of it, the cartoon-heart tattoo disappearing as his
shaft pushes deeper.
	"Uuwwgghh!" she grunts.  Piss jets from her bladder under the pressure
of the stabbing horse-sized penis.  Shortly afterwards shit bubbles up out of her.
	Stryker pulls back almost all the way out to look down at his member.
	It is coated with hot blood and bits of gutmeat.
	"Filthy ffuckin' little bbitchh!" he grunts and drives back in, stabbing deep,
making Beth gasp-scream out of breath.
	With slow grinding thrusts he killfucks the hapless child pushing in to the hilt
until his balls slap against the chair-seat edge.  As he does so he growls viciously
and takes hard bites, sinking his sharp teeth into her claves and thighs, drinking
the blood from the arrow-wounds there.  He sinks his teeth into her broken
feet and bloody toes, held up in front of him, grinding down, making the small
shattered bones crunch, making the child scream raucously.
	He slams in and out of her and after a while he slides out and steps back
	He needs more from her.
	He brings a plastic bag from the closet, puts it over her head, ties it
down around her neck with an elastic band.
	Slowly he crouches down again, lifts her legs up, spreads them to enter
the ugly burn-gash in her middle.
	He begins killfucking her again and watching her try to breathe in the
plastic bag, her face deformed and flushed, the bag expanding and contracting
with her breath until it is foggy with warm moisture.  He tightens the band
around her neck and as she struggles wide-eyed for air, whimpering, groaning,
he feels the muscles in her abdomen tightening around his invading shaft.
She shits herself again watery brown squirts that splash against his thighs.
He loosens the band to allow air into the bag then he tugs it shut again to
suffocate her.  Her head topples from side to side and her cheeks turn dark
as the oxygen supply is quickly depleted.  He looks right into her pleading
eyes as he fucks her.
	"- eeeze - gghhh - pleeeeze -"she mutters.
	More shit pours out of her.
	He hilts his cock to the balls and pulls the band around her neck as tight
as possible and he holds her like that for interminable seconds.
	"I - am - yourr - ggoddd!" he growls savagely.
	She nods weakly, her eyes half-closed, cheeks nearly purple.
	Finally he pulls out of her and yanks the bag off her head.
	She wheezes open-mouthed starved for air.
	


	He needs to take it higher now.
	Going to Holly he releases her legs from the metal chair cuffs and
looping a strand of barbed wire several times around her ankles he raises the child's
legs to a pulley hook on a chain, her broken bleeding feet tugged up above her
head.  He does the same with Beth leaving both sisters arm-bound to the metal
chair but with their legs straight up in the air in front of them ankle-tied with barbed
wire.
	He picks up the metal rod again and reheats it over the blue gas flame
on the single burner.
	Returning to the girls he stands between them, smouldering shaft in hand.
	They look so nice like that, strung up for him, just the way he likes it.
	He begins by thrusting the torture weapon into each victim's asshole, putting
it to one girl, pushing in a couple of inches and waiting - pulling out, putting it in the
other girl, pushing in - waiting - pulling it out.  He enjoys the way the twins
kick their trapped legs against the wire around their ankles as he gives them the
shaft.  He enjoys their breathless whining cries - weaker now - less energetic than
before.
	With the tip of the rod he traces burnsmears all over the backs of their thighs.
	He gouges out the arrow wounds in them.
	He burn-pierces into their kneehollows, into their skinny calves.
	And then he begins to whip them with the metal shaft striking three or
four blows at a time on each sister before burying the still-sizzling tip back in their
burned-out assholes, striking harder and harder each time, plunging deeper -
	Hearts racing and minds blurringly alert under the effect of the amphetamines
the twins cannot pass out, cannot escape Stryker's monstrously calculated torture.
	They shit and piss themselves as the metal shaft slams into their knees and
into the sides of their legs.
	Holly vomits up bile and blood.
	Both girls scream-plead weakly - they shudder and toss their heads back
open-mouthed.  Their inescapable horror has broken them beyond all sanity.
	Holly's right leg snaps.
	As she shrieks Stryker slams the shaft up her blown out cunt.
	He yanks it out and pounds Beth's thighs moving up toward her ankles
breaking both legs with one heavy blow.
	He turns to Holly and delivers several angry blows that crack her thighbones,
dislocate one hip and break her right leg in three more places.  Then he plunges the
shaft deep into her ruptured womb into the muck of her intestines.  When he tears
it out a small strand of gut comes with it. Holly's back arches and she shakes
stiffly.
	Dizzy with lust Stryker drops the blood-smeared shaft.
	From the closet he brings two slabs of wood, two-by-fours, three feet long
with an eyehook screwed into the middle of each board, and the nail gun.
	He cuts the twins' busted legs down from the suspension pulley and the
broken limbs thump down to the floor in front of them still ankle-bound with
barbed wire.
	Moving to Holly first he releases one of her arms from the wrist cuff on the
chair. Lifting and pressing her broken hand to the two-by-four he puts the
nail gun to her wrist and squeezes the trigger power-slamming a nail into the
young girls limb, nailing it to the board.  As she wails and babbles he puts another
nail in her forearm. Releasing her other arm from the torture chair he hoists it up
and nails it to the two by four.  He clips a pulley line to the eyehook in the board
and hoists Holly up on her smashed feet and broken legs.
	Leaving his victim moaning and drooling and blood-pissing herself he turns to
Beth and repeats the process.
	When he's finished the twins face each other, broken, crucified butterflies,
bloody, whimpering killmeat for the sadistic butcher.
	Stryker takes the scalpel.



	Holly looks up to see him slicing into Beth's forehead.
	The monster cuts slowly, meticulously following Beth's hairline down around
her ears, down to the back of her neck, around her head - all the way around.
	Blood pours down past Beth's arched brows and into her blinking
sad eyes.
	When the cutting is done he tugs on the child's mane of hair roughly.
	Gradually Beth's scalp is torn from her head.
	The skin makes a ripping sound as Stryker yanks on it.  He cuts some more
to peel all of Beth's scalp off the top of her bleeding skull.
	When he's done he tosses the head of brown hair on the table and
he comes for Holly.


	
	Beth wants it to end.
	She can't bear any more.
	Watching the beast scalp Holly as she herself has just been scalped nudges her
into mind-blown hysteria - her mind snaps - trips out in a nerve-shattering
amphetamine high.
	She imagines herself wearing a crown of fire.
	Stryker is her God and He is beautiful.
	She wants His big killing meat deep inside her.
	Wants it badly.
	She wants His strong hands around her throat stifling her breath.
	She needs to die for Him to show him her love.
	He is more beautiful than any imaginable being.
	He is the Angel of Death and she wants to please Him, wants to give him her
soul.
	Ohhh look - how lovely Holly's pretty hair ripped off her.
	Dark red blood like strawberry jam poured on a scoop of vanilla ice-cream.

	
	Pain and madness reverberate through both twins like harmonics in one
vibrating string.
	Their death must be perfect for the killer.
	He has both scalp-manes now laid out on the table.
	He takes the small chain strand with the meat hooks on either end.

	
	Squeezing their nostrils shut he gets them to open their mouths.
	He has a tool specially for this, another set of pliars with a spike on one of the
jaws.
	He pierces their tongues when they gasp for breath and he drives
the hook through the newly made piercing.
	He hooks twin to twin by their tongues, little pinned butterflies that will no
longer hover around the mall, no longer giggle on the phone, no longer
dance in their socks, no longer draw hungry eyes of older men as they
sashay past.
	Their father will keep their pictures in the glass cabinet in the living room.
	The girls and their mother.
	Taken.
	Lost forever.


	Suspended and crucified the Wades twins dangle from the ceiling of the
torture room, facing each other, tongue-hooked.
	The killer picks up the heavy rusted strand of chain.
	It once lifted machinery on an assembly line.
	Now, in Stryker's strong grip it will find a sweeter use.


	He swings it hard, first into Holly's side.
	She howls and kicks and her bald bloody head pulls to one side yanking on
Beth's hooked tongue.
	He strikes there again smashing three ribs into Holly's lung.
	Hauling it back he brings it crashing into Beth's back.
	Two blows then three until her spine snaps audibly and she drools blood.
	He chainwhips both children unmercifully avoiding their tongue-hooked
raw-scalped heads.
	The heavy chain whoosh-thunks into defenseless girlmeat.
	Stryker breaks Holly's back and Beth's collarbone.
	Brutally he pounds their bellies gut-smashing the girls.
	He chainwhips their already broken legs and thighs until the two children are 
nothing but a pulpy mass of broken bones and slashed bloody meat.



	Dropping the whipping chain to the floor Stryker moves in.
	He attaches an overhead pulley line to the small chain hooked to the twins'
pierced tongues.
	As he touches a switch on the control panel the pulley line tugs upward
slowly and the broken twelve year olds squeal in unison as their tongues are yanked
toward the ceiling, their blood-scalped heads tilting back.
	Before the hooks can tear out their tongues Stryker flips the switch and stops
the pulley.  
	He heats a knitting needle over the gas flame.
	Circling around his crucified head-hooked victims the killer pierces their
stretched out tongues with the hot knitting needle poking deep holes in the
wet pink muscle-meat, drawing shrillest and most intense agony-response. He
pushes the hot needle into the soft flesh under the tongue, stabbing there, 
stabbing their cheeks, their ears and finally poking out their eardrums.
	Moving back to the control panel he touches the switch that powers the
pulley line and watches as the hooks tear their tongues out of their shrieking
mouths.
	Then he lets the twins down to the floor and cuts their ankles loose.
	He stands over them and pries the nails out of their arms.
	They lie moaning in mortal agony.
	

	He puts the butcher knife in Beth's hand.
	"Kill your sister and then kill yourself for me."
	She looks up at him then down at the weapon in her bleeding hand.
	Holly lies next to her in a pool of blood, shivering.
	"Kill your sister and then kill yourself for me...understand?"
	She nods then coughs up bile and blood, bits of tongue-flesh.
	Her insides are crushed and she can barely breathe.
	"Put it in her throat then take it out."
	He stands over them stroking his cock hard.
	"Do it."
	He stands in their blood.
	He leans down and grinds his manmeat into Holly's torn apart pussy lifting
her up by one broken arm for Beth.
	"Right in her neck - uuhhh -  in the middle of it - do it - she's almost dead
now - nnhhh - finish her - do it for me - give me your sister's life."
	Beth doesn't know if she can but she wants to please him - she wants to.
	She drags herself up, propped up on one arm, the room spinning around and
she lifts the knife to Beth's throat.  Her sister sways slowly back and forth with
Stryker's fuckthrusts.
	The knife-blade is sharp, piercingly sharp.
	"Ghhh," Holly blurts weakly spitting blood on Beth's arm. "N-no - nnoo -"
	Beth makes a groaning growly sound  and she draws up all the
energy she can muster to push the knife deep into her sister's warbling
throat.  The skin infolds and gives and the spike cuts through the artery and into
Holly's larynx.  Blood jets out, bubbles out, sprinkles the twins and Stryker's
legs.
	Stryker reaches down, takes Beth's wrist and helps her impale the knife
all the way through Holly's neck as he slow-fucks the murder victim feeling her
contract and stiffen around his cock, her blown out womb squirting dark blood
and slime around his huge shaft.
	Holly shudders and takes her time to die looking up at Stryker who slithers
out of her butchered cunt and crouches over her as she lies there to smear his balls
on her scalped skull and on her forehead and on her face and mouth.
	"Take it out," Stryker tells Beth. "Take the knife out of her."
	Beth obeys, Stryker gripping her wrist to help wrench the knife from Holly's
neck.  The wound hisses and spits foamy blood.  Stryker releases Holly who falls
inertly to the floor under him.
	Now Stryker strokes himself fast and hard watching Beth.
	"Kill yourself for me. You just killed your own fucking sister. You need to
die."
	"Yezz - uhhh - want - to -" Beth groans tongueless.
	"Then do it. Do it you little scumbag."
	Beth gives out a wailing cry and stabs herself in the chest with the big blood-
smeared blade.
	"Harder!" Stryker urges.
	She wails and stabs repeatedly.
	She stabs herself in her burn-smeared belly and on her pussy mound.
	"Yeahh! YEEAHH!" Stryker shouts.
	Beth looks up at him and forces herself up on her broken knees.
	Her caved-in chest and abdomen are pockmarked with stabwounds.
	"aggg - m-my s-soul - izz - Y-YOURSS!" she whines, her eyes crazed, and
she slams the knife hard into her own throat.
	"GG-GGHWWWGGGG!"
	Stryker leans down to help her push it inward.
	Her eyes roll back and she slumps sideways to the floor.
	Stryker stands over her. She gasps for breath, blood jetting from her pierced
throat and from her lips, her heartbeat fading.
	Both twins are at his feet - Holly already dead - Beth dying.


	He cums on their faces first grunting and shouting as he reaches orgasm.
	He shoots thick glops of sperm on them, on their broken bodies. 
	"Open your fuckin' mouth!" he shouts at Beth kicking her broken ribs.
	It is the last thing she does, obedient for her god,  opening her lips wide as he
kneels down, straddling her head to squeeze long squirts of cum-milk in her throat.
	"Bitch!" he shouts angrily tearing the butcher knife out of her neck and
gouging out her eyes with it pounding the blade into her and killing her, rubbing his
balls into her bloody cheeks and forehead, getting himself hard again.
	

	
	Achingly erect he fucks the dead twins on the floor, slamfucks them,
guts them with the suicidal knife as he does so, cutting them open from their necks
to their cuntslits.
	He cums in their gutted carcasses, empties his balls in them, finally collapsing
on the floor exhausted, covered with their blood, to fall asleep between their
mangled savaged bodies.


	Stryker dreams of jungles and strange untamed birds, he dreams of drifting
clouds and pouring rain - he sees his red silk robe on the forest ground spattered
with mud and with Beth's blood - he sees the crossbow next to it - he hears the
sound of the small arrows slicing throught air and thudding into girlmeat - hard
deep killing thunkks -  He dreams the twins kneel on the beach before him and he is
aiming the crossbow at their faces - thunkk - thunkk - thunkk - arrows slicing into
cheeks, foreheads, eyes, mouths, throats -  he reloads and fires - reloads and fires -
	The dream excites him and he awakens with a demanding hard-on.


	He fucks the dead girls again pounding himself into their broken butchered
cadavers. With the knife he cuts out whatever is left of their uteruses and
reproductive organs - then with his axe he hacks off their scalped heads picking
them up off the floor to fuck the jagged throat holes until he cums again spurting
cum into their tongueless mouths from the inside - spurting whatever's left in his
balls out on their dead faces.


	Late in the day along with their mother and the other dead slutmeat, eight
battered victims in all, the twins are axe-hacked to pieces.  In plastic bags all the
females are taken for burial in the woods in a shallow grave near the row of tall pine
trees.
	Its not easy work.
	The trees and the ground are still wet from the morning's rain - the afternoon
sun gleams hotly in the sky.
	It takes him three long hours.
	After the killer covers his kills with muddy dirt he stands over the mass grave
and pisses.
	Beyond that pungent familiar smell he can smell autumn coming.  He
remembers a bitch named Karen and  how she looked up at the stars as he carved
her life out of her.  He remembers a little girl who called him God.  And now he
remembers Jane Wades and her lovely twin daughters dangling and screaming and
crucified and suffering for his pleasure. He remembers little Beth Wades stabbing
herself in the throat for him and giving him her beautiful soul.
	A smile flickers across his hard features.
	He picks up the shovel, his wrinkled mud-smeared silk robe and the crossbow
and he returns to the house.


	Stryker sleeps deeply, restfully through the rest of that day and the
early part of the next.
	Sometime in the afternoon the phone by his bed rings.
	Its Doug.
	The Venus Fly Trap has caught some fresh girl meat - a sixteen year old
redhead and her fifteen year old friend.
	Stryker will have to sharpen his axe.
	After the phonecall he goes into the bathroom.
	By the time he's in the shower he's ready again.
	Just like his father used to say:
	Hard as steel and ready to kill.


WOODBURN