Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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.
   Extremely Willing

   I can see Sabrina has taken the time today to prepare herself for me, to
make herself beautiful and I appreciate it.
   Its a hot afternoon in late August and I watch her walk into the
abandoned building ahead of me, freshly bathed, sweet-smelling, her dark
wavy hair tossing in the warm breeze.
   As per my request, she wears the long black cocktail dress with the
spaghetti straps and the slit all the way up the side, and the elegant
high-heel sandals, the ones with the thin little cords that wrap around the
ankle and toes leaving the foot naked and steeply arched, her toe and
finger-nails painted fire-engine red, her lips too, slut- red, the way I
like em.  Her eye-makeup is a bit much, a bit too exotic but that's fine. I
like that slutty look the dark mascara gives her.
   She is my slut after all, my slave-cunt, my pain-pig...and today she
will be my slaughter-whore.
   I have trained her to live for my pleasure, to have no other goal or
purpose in life and she has submitted to me and excelled.
   In fact, she has excelled way beyond my expectations to the point of
surrendering her fourteen-year old daughter to me, her own flesh and blood,
Amanda, whom she delivered upon my command to be raped tortured and
butchered while Sabrina looked on, bound to the wall, listening to the
young girl's lovely screams.
   Yeah, Amanda was a sweet little piglet, beautiful, just like her mother,
long black hair to her shoulders, creamy pale skin, full sensual lips, long
neck, shapely legs and small budding tits.
   When Sabrina brought her to me the little cunt had no clue as to what
was going to happen.
   From the window above the driveway I watched them arrive, my slave in a
short peach-colored dress and white high-heel pumps leading her daughter
down the steps at the side of the house.
   Amanda wore a little red halter-top, white shorts and black, open-toe
clogs. Walkman headphones clung around her neck.
   "Why are we going in the cellar?" she asked her mother, slippered feet
clopping down each stone step as her jaws worked on some bubble-gum.
   "Jim's got something to show you, honey," Sabrina replied.
   I had something to show her alright.
   By the time I got down there Sabrina had already cuffed the little
slut's hands behind her.
   "What are you doing, mama?  What's going on?" Amanda was squealing.
   When she saw me she shut up.  I was naked from the waist up, black
leather harness-straps crossing my chest, a black executioner's hood on my
head.  She looked away quickly but her eyes continued to dart around the
room nervously.
   She glanced back at me.  She had seen me a couple of times with her
mother but only briefly.
   "J-jim?" she muttered uncertainly.  "Is that you?  Wha- what's all
this?"
   The cellar was a large spacious area and I had turned it into a torture
chamber.  Chains and ropes dangled from eye-hooks in the ceiling; whips,
canes, rods and other torture implements stood on racks in the wall; there
were wooden work-horses and X-frames painted black.  Sabrina had been down
here before, but her daughter, who was seeing it for the first time, was in
shock.
   The little bitch really had no fucking idea what was coming.
   "She's yours, Master," Sabrina whispered sliding down to her knees, eyes
downcast.
   Amanda just stood there, arms pulled behind her, and she stared at her
kneeling mother then at me then back again.  Awkwardly she tried to make a
run for it but I grabbed her by her hair, spun her back and punched her in
the face.  She cried out and fell back against the wall losing her shoes
and slid down to the floor on her ass.  I stepped up to the cuffed,
helpless, protesting teen and slapped her a few times, ripped the Walkman
from her and smashed it on the floor then kicked her in her stomach.  She
choked on her gum then swallowed it down with a gulp as I started slapping
her again.
   All through this Sabrina just knelt there, her eyes on the ground.
   Amanda pleaded and screamed but that only got me more excited, got my
cock harder.
   I got er up on her feet and ripped off her halter top and slapped her
sweet little titties red.
   She backed away from me until she couldn't go anywhere then I let her
have it punching her tits now and her belly, ripping her shorts and panties
down her legs, punching her firm thighs.  I worked up a sweat pounding the
little darling until finally I gave her a good one across her chin smashing
her lights out.  Her head banged back against the wall and she toppled
forward to the floor at my feet.
   Leaving Amanda on the ground groaning, almost unconscious, mouth bloody
I went to her mother.
   I ordered Sabrina to strip then watched as she slowly slid out of the
peach- colored mini-dress then her black bra and panties.  She stepped out
of her white high-heels and when she was done I placed my hand on her chest
between her boobs and pushed her back up against the cold cellar wall.  I
secured her wrists to manacles bolted to the gray stone crucifying her then
binding her ankles tightly together with a leather strap.
   I reached out and raised her face up by her chin to stare down into her
sad submissive face.
   "You sure this is what you want?" I asked her.
   Tears flooded her hazel eyes and she bit her lip.
   I waited just staring at her, conquering her.
   "Y-yes, m-master," she sobbed softly.
   "You know I'm going to kill her?"
   She nodded still lost in my unwavering gaze.
   "And when I'm done with her...it will be your turn..."
   She moaned in response to my cruel words still nodding.
   Softly, lovingly, I kissed her trembling lips.  Her tears began to
stream down her cheeks.  I brought my hand to her throat to squeeze as I
kissed her, hard, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth.  Her nude body
surrendered to me as I pushed her into the wall, my cock pressing through
my jeans and against her bare thighs.
   Then I stepped back suddenly and slapped her viciously across her face.
   She whimpered and gave out one loud sob.
   I took a black ball-gag and pushed it into her mouth buckling the
leather strap around her neck.
   "You're a good cunt, Sabrina," I told her.
   "A real good cunt..."
   ...And she is a good cunt, incredibly submissive and obedient, always
willing, always ready to receive whatever vicious punishment I desire to
inflict.
   Today she wears the long slinky black dress for me.
   The one she will die and be buried in.
   Her high-heel sandals clack noisily on the wooden floor-boards as she
walks ahead of me, down the dark hallway of the abandoned factory where I
have brought her, her long dress fluttering and rustling as her slender
curvaceous body gracefully moves.
   Sad to say even prime meat like Sabrina eventually bores me and I must
search for new prey.
   But she understands and accepts this and today she knows she has come to
the end of her usefulness and that the only pleasure left for me with her
is the taking of her young life.  She has known it would come to this right
from the beginning.  I told her every time she submitted to me.  And if
she'd ever harbored the slightest doubt about my capacity for such a thing
the killing of Amanda most certainly put an end to it.
   I didn't even know Sabrina had a daughter until our fifth encounter'.
   I'd been particularly severe with her that day.  I'd suspended her naked
by her wrists, her feet off the floor, legs wide apart, ankles cuff-bound
to chains from columns on either side of her and I'd flogged her ass and
back with a black bullwhip.  The lash had whistled and snapped angrily and
she'd taken it stoically with only an occasional whimper.  But I was in an
evil mood and determined to break her silence at all costs so I'd flogged
harder and faster until blood trickled down her legs.  Still she would not
cry out.
   "Goddamn whore," I'd muttered to myself.  "You're gonna scream for me."
   So I put on my work-gloves, fired up the gas burner and heated up the
long steel javelin.
   She watched me as she hung there, quivering, wanting it and dreading it,
knowing this punishment would be terrible...perhaps even final.
   "P-please, sir," she said weakly.
   "Shut the fuck up, cow," I snapped without even looking at her.  I was
watching the tip of the steel rod in the flame, waiting for it to smoulder.
   "Sir, please - this slut begs to speak..."
   "You have nothing, NOTHING, to say, cunt!  You're gonna take pain for me
now and that's all there is to it."
   She began to cry softly and the sound of it made my cock throb and my
balls tingle.
   "Y-yes, master," she replied, her head hanging down between her
upstretched arms.
   As always when I punished a whore I was naked.  I could feel the heat of
the gas burner on my chest while I stroked myself slowly with the other
gloved hand.  I was too caught up in the sadistic rush to realize that
Sabrina really did have something to say to me.
   I lifted the javelin off the burner and turned to walk across the cellar
toward her.
   She was a beautiful piece of woman-meat hanging there by arms and legs,
waiting for me.
   I raised the rod and touched its spear-sharp tip to her left breast. 
The hot metal sizzled and hissed as it burned her soft white tit-meat.
   She raised her pretty head at the ceiling and gave out a loud piercing
howl.
   "Yeahhh!" I shouted, almost cumming, slowing down the hard strokes on my
cock as I pushed the spear into her tit piercing and burning.
   Then I moved to the other breast, touching the hot steel to her nipple.
   She jerked around violently on the chains that held her.
   "Aa-aaahrrggghh -sshhittt!!" she shouted, head moving from side to side,
eyes pressed shut.
   "TAKE IT, PIG!  TAKE IT FOR ME!" I shouted back.
   "YESSSSS MAASTERR!" she shrieked at the top of her voice trying to push
herself forward into the javelin.
   "GIVE IT TO MEEEEE!  ITS WHAT I DESERVE!"
   "You bet it is, goddamn you - I'm gonna kill you right now, bitch," I
heard myself snarl as I stepped up to her and grabbed her twisting body by
one hip to put the rod to her cooze.  The steel singed the tender meat of
her pussy lips and she cried out sharply, suddenly tensing, her hands
grabbing the chains that held her wrist-cuffs as she steeled herself for
the terrible penetration.
   I was about to thrust up into her, to push the hot javelin all the way
up into her fucking guts when she suddenly blurted out:
   "Oh dear God, Amanda...what'll happen to Amanda...?"
   Her voice had trembled betrayingly and I recognized the maternal concern
behind her fear.
   She looked down at me wide-eyed.
   "Who the fuck is Amanda, bitch?" I asked her angrily holding the hot
weapon in readiness, even though I suspected the answer before she voiced
it...
   "S-she - she's my - d-daughter, master."
   "I see.  And you thought you would keep this from me, that you had a
daughter?...How old is she?"
   I was still poised for the slaughter.
   "F-fourteen..."
   A few tense moments passed while I considered the exquisite
possibilities.  I knew that the little bitch must be a very tasty morsel if
the mother had kept her existence secret from me...and I also knew that
Sabrina would pay terribly for hiding the truth from her Master.  Terribly
and mercilessly.
   "You will bring her to me, pig," I told her softly as I lowered the
spear.
   "Oh God, M-master...she's only a ch-child..."
   "Exactly.  She is your child.  And now she will be mine as well.  She
will take the hot metal that was meant for you."
   "Please, master," Sabrina pleaded and began to cry as she released the
chains she'd been clinging to and just hung there.
   "Don't even waste your breath, slave...Amanda will die for my pleasure.
There is no other way."
   I put the steel rod down, leaning it against the wall, and I hit the
switch for the winch that pulled the suspension chains.  I released
Sabrina's ankles and lowered her slowly to the floor on her knees.  I
switched off the winch when her arms were still over her head, released her
wrists and told her to bend forward and spread her legs.  Kneeling behind
her I put my cock to her pink asshole seizing her hips and pushing my hot
swollen cock-head into the wrinkled aperture.  I looked down at her flogged
back and butt and ordered her to spread her asscheeks open for me as I slid
deep into her rectum.  She did exactly as I demanded, crying weakly,
arching her round rump up for my fuck, her shoulders and face pressed to
the cold floor under her disheveled mane of hair, a trickle of blood
pooling under her left tit from the open semi-cauterized wound.
   "You will bring Amanda to me," I said, speaking to her whipped backside.
   "Won't you, pig?"
   I thrusted into her hard satisfying the animalistic urge that drove me,
dizzy with power, an evil sneer on my face as I fucked my slavewhore on the
floor of the cellar torture chamber.
   "Y-yess - ah - ohh - yess, Sir -"
   "You will bring her to me...uuhh...and I will kill her...uhnhh!"
   I fucked her harder.
   "I will kill your daughter, pig...and then it will be YOUR turn..."
   "Yes!  Yes!  Kill us both, Master....both of us...ahhh...do it!  We
belong to youuu!  aa-AHHHH-ANNHHH!...we belong to you..."
   I pounded into her as she came squealing, sobbing and slamming herself
back into my pistoning shaft.
   Then I rose, stood over her, made her kneel in front of me, made her
open her pretty painted mouth wide.  I raised my cock and pissed right into
my defeated slut's face and aimed the hot yellow stream between her
red-painted lips.
   "Bring her to me tomorrow," I ordered as I continued to urinate.
   She nodded, closed her eyes, swallowing and swallowing yet keeping her
mouth open as I emptied my bladder on her...  Such a good cunt...such a
good good cunt...
   ...such perfect goddamn fucking slave meat...
   Now, on her final journey, Sabrina reaches the end of the hallway in the
abandoned building just ahead of me and comes to the stair-well.  She
pauses only briefly, turns to look into my eyes.  Her make-up really is a
bit much, the stupid whore.
   "Go on," I tell her.
   She smiles nervously.
   "Yes, Sir," she replies, turns and begins to climb the stairs.
   Her high-heel sandals make a different clacking sound here than on the
wooden floor-boards earlier and I watch her feet arch, her calve and thigh
muscles work, as the slit of her dress opens and closes teasingly with each
stride.  I let her go up a few steps then I begin to climb slowly after
her. I watch her full firm ass move under the soft black fabric, her
fingers fluttering on the handrail, three small silvery bracelets jangling
on her wrist.  Each step is a deliciously executed movement as she climbs
into the dark abandoned building, occasionally avoiding the debris on the
stair-wells, chunks of plaster, a smashed wash-basin, an old toilet seat,
some pieces of rusted pipe, an old wooden office chair with one leg
missing. I feel myself getting harder as I watch her climb the steps and I
see her glance back at me sporadically, her mascara-circled eyes gleaming
in the shadows, a neutral accepting expression on her face.
   On each floor the stairs reach a landing then climb in the opposite
direction. There are dirty and broken wire-meshed windows at each landing
through which the fading light of the dying day enters.  Each time Sabrina
turns on these landings she faces me for a brief moment as she mounts the
next set of stairs and I catch a glimpse of the front of her delicious legs
and feet, her shins and knees, all the way up her plump thighs to her
pussy. As per my instructions she wears no panties or bra, just the elegant
dress in which she will die.
   I pat my jacket to feel the hard weight of the snubnose .38 holstered
there.  And in my right pants pocket the black-handled hunting knife, blade
now safely retracted, brushes against my thigh as I move.
   After five floors her breath is faster and the rhythm of her steps
slightly uneven.  Still there are five more floors to go.  She knows.  I
have brought her here before, brought her up these stairs the same day I
slaughtered her daughter, looked into her swollen teary eyes and showed
her...  Slowly, patiently, just as if I was dealing with a small child, I
carefully explained it all to her, what I wanted, what I would expect from
her and what I would do.
   And she's such a good cunt because she follows my instructions exactly
to the letter coming now to the old metal door at the top of the stairs
that leads outside.
   She goes through it, the rusty hinges squealing loudly, and I follow her
out on to the tar-covered roof of the abandoned building.  Already the sun
has gone from the sky but there is still plenty of light.  We are about six
miles from the city, skyscrapers rising far in the distance in a distant
glitter of lights, while around us there is nothing but wooded areas in all
directions.
   Long ago, there had been six large buildings here: the Colson Tool Works
complex, but all had succumbed to the wrecking ball to make way for a
shopping mall.  All but this last, which still stood while years of legal
issues tied up the mall's construction.
   I have brought many slaves to suffer within the old crumbling walls but
Sabrina will be the first to be slaughtered here.
   Consequently, it will be the last time I will use this place...
   She walks now to the center of the roof near a rusty ventilation shaft
and she slides down to her knees.
   She peels down the straps of her dress and pulls it down to her waist. I
reach into my pocket and take the hunting knife springing the long blade
open.
   She puts her hands behind her back.
   I look down at her and she looks back, lips trembling.
   Her tits still bear the cruel marks of the steel spear from nearly two
weeks before.
   I touch the knife-blade to her lips.
   "Kiss it, whore."
   She obeys, closing her eyes momentarily as if she were kissing a lover
and not the cold sharp steel that is about to wound her.
   I slip my jacket off and drape it over the ventilation shaft then I take
her left breast by the dark red nipple pulling it out from her to place the
blade at the top of the fleshy orb.
   Forcefully I slice downward and around as her breath hisses between
clenched teeth and she holds herself stiffly upright on her knees for me.
   Blood pours down her chest into the wrinkled folds of the the black
dress.
   I slice carefully all the way around and deep still holding the breast
by the now erect nipple until it is completely severed then I let it fall
to the black tar-top, kick it aside and take her other breast, the one
which bears the most severe mutilation, nipple half burned from the hot
javelin.
   "Can you handle it?" I ask her.
   As I look down at her I see her blood smeared on the tip of my shoe.
   "Yes, master," she whispers hoarsely.  "Do it to me.  I want to hurt for
you."
   I smile and slowly, cruelly, I begin to cut her other tit off.....
   It so incredible that she actually gave me her fucking daughter.
   Just like that.
   Brought her to me with no hesitation.
   Sweet innocent Amanda...I went to town on that little cupcake.
   First, I suspended a three-foot long steel bar from chains hooked on
both ends and leading up to my winch, then I tied Amanda's wrists and
elbows behind her while she was still dazed from the beating I'd dished
out. I raised her arms behind her while she sat on the floor and dragged
her back against the steel bar so that it came up against her
shoulder-blades.  When I dropped her bound arms the bar fit right under her
arm-pits and when I hit the winch-switch the chains began to lift her.
   She came around and started trying to kick loose, screaming and carrying
on.
   I stopped the winch.
   I grabbed her feet and raised them up over her head and through a rope
noose.  As she tried to bring her legs down the noose closed and looped
tight around her ankles, the rope grinding into the child's skin right to
the bone.  The more she tried to pull her ankles free the tighter the noose
became.
   I started the winch again and raised her up off the ground until her
little almost hairless pussy was level with my booming cock, her long
slender legs rising toward the ceiling.  Then, while she hung there crying
and whimpering I took my clothes off and started up the gas burner.
   "Let me gooo!  Pleeease!" She wailed.  "Ohh Godd pleease - momma!  Don't
let him hurt me any more - ohh Godd nooo!  - momma - pleeeease!?"
   I stood in front of her just watching her scream and beg and jerk around
helplessly in her bondage and I stripped naked leaving on my leather
harness and hood, knowing that my appearance would surely provoke sheer
terror in my victim. I jerked off knowing no one outside the cellar would
hear a single sound she made.
   To my right I could see Sabrina bound to the wall, crying
disconsolately, unsuccesfully trying to look away.
   I reached out and grabbed Amanda's head by her hair and began to pull it
forward, between her up-raised legs, twisting her into and impossible
position, pulling, pulling until her shoulders dislocated with a resounding
crack.
   She screamed shrilly then and babbled senselessly, her head oddly
trapped between her luscious calves, eyes shut, brows furrowed, face
twisted in agony, hair falling over it in strands looking like some kind of
circus contortionist freak.
   Hanging there the child was luscious, her pretty pouting wide-lipped
mouth, pink pussy-slit and puckered asshole all exposed and offered to me.
   I watched her for a bit while she screamed herself ragged then I stepped
up to her, raised my big hard prick to her pussy peeling the soft
petal-lips open with one hand and placing my cock-head right on her sweet
virgin love-hole.
   Just then I looked over at Sabrina who watched us through blood-shot
eyes sobbing sporadically.
   Amanda now just hung whimpering, eyes glazed.
   "Look at the bright side," I told Sabrina going up on my toes and
gripping Amanda's soft young thighs.  "At least the little bitch won't die
a virgin..."
   I pulled the child's body against mine impaling her tight sex hole and
she started crying and babbling all over again.  I fucked her without
moving, standing still while I pumped her back and forth on my cock, now
and then slamming her against me to hilt my huge manhood in her, devouring
her torment, my eyes sparkling in the hood-slits.  She bled on me and I bit
her cheeks and spit on her face...bit her calves and drew skin-blood.  Then
I put my prick to her asshole and pulled her on to it raping her savagely,
lovelessly, mercilessly.  I fucked her pussy and anus alternately,
thrusting now into her then out as I yanked her towards me then pushed her
away.  I punched her legs hard while I fucked her.  I rammed her, slammed
her, focused all my pent-up violence and rage on the defenseless tightly-
bound teen.  I was charged with sadistic fury enjoying the knowledge that
her young vibrant life was mine for the taking, that her own mother had
given her to me just for this destructive purpose.  I thrilled at the
prospect of violently snuffing an innocent undeserving victim.
   Posessed suddenly by the eerie serenity (which always seemed to follow
the fuck-frenzy) I pulled out of my youthful victim's body, stepped back
and slowly lifted the hot javelin I had meant to slaughter her mother with
the day before from the gas-burner's flame.
   She saw it coming, mouth wide but silent with terror as I approached.
   Across the room I heard Sabrina pulling wildly against the manacles that
held her to the wall.
   "No!" She was screaming.  "Dear Jesus!  Noo!"
   I looked up into Amanda's pretty eyes, felt myself salivate as my arm
drew back, and I plunged the hot steel with all my strength into her raped
pussy-hole.  Her tender flesh provided a bit of resistance but I was
absolutely relentless and I drove all forty inches of red hot metal into
her.
   Her body convulsed and she began to make loud gagging noises as her eyes
rolled upward.
   Suddenly she vomited blood and bits of torn intestine...she went very
pale.
   Blood and piss shot from her burned-out vagina as she vocalized short
staccato girl-cries, her toes wriggling above her head, hands opening and
closing behind her.
   I left the spear in her and stepped back to admire the child's lovely
trapped death-dance.  I jerked off left -handed with hard methodical
strokes and cupped my balls with my right facing my victim, my feet
slightly apart, my thighs tensed.
   Her face, twisted in a grimace of suffering, was absolutely
beautiful...heavenly...a mortally wounded angel.  She looked at me, her
eyes deeply brown, like her mother's, and her surrender was not the willing
surrender of a slave but the sometimes preferable defeat of the victim,
full of horror and surprise.  Her life force now dwindled as blood poured
non-stop from her cunt and down the spear hilted in her asshole to pool on
the floor at my feet.  The smell of blood and the dying girl filled the
chamber and made me dizzy with bliss.  On the wall, Sabrina had fainted and
she hung unconscious from the manacles, head sagging, body leaning forward,
her mind unable to cope with the severe trauma of her child's gruesome
murder.
   Later, when Amanda had stopped moving and breathing and I dropped her
carcass to the floor I released Sabrina from the wall and forced her to
strap on a dildo and fuck her dead daughter for me.
   Sabrina was such a good slut...  doing exactly and unequivocally what I
told her even when it hurt her, even when it cost her and cost her
dearly...It was beautiful to watch her crying with deep heart-wrenching
sobs as she thrust her hips against Amanda's broken lifeless body, black
dildo sliding in and out, ravaging the murdered girl, a pool of blood and
torn viscera already forming under mother and butchered daughter...
   "Oh God, master!" Sabrina wailed.  "What more do you want!?  What more
do you WANT!?"
   "I want it all," I said softly, smiling, coming right up to her, my cock
in her face.
   Obediently if somewhat reluctantly she opened her lips continuing to
fuck Amanda as I took her by her hair and slid all the way down her
miserable throat.
   "...and you're gonna give it to me..."
   I shot part of my load down her gullet holding her head still, then
pulled out to spill the rest on her up-turned face.  Fat gobs of my sticky
semen rolled down her cheeks and neck to her tits.
   That night the bitch helped me bury Amanda in the woods.
   Once the grave was covered over I made her crouch and piss on it.
   "You're a worthless piece of shit," I told her shining the flashlight on
her as she crouched there, naked, urinating on her daughter's fresh tomb...
   "...a goddamn, useless, worthless, piece of human garbage..."
   And when one took into consideration what she had stooped to, conspiracy
and collusion in the rape, torture and slaughter her own daughter, the
sexual violation of her own child's dead corpse and now the desecration of
the child's final resting place, what else could you call Sabrina?
   She was no longer even a human being...she was slaughter-flesh...female
meat ready for the hungry butcher.
   ...Now, two weeks after burying little Amanda I work on her mother.
   She has climbed the stairs ahead of me, through the rusting metal fire
door and out on the roof.
   I have cut off one breast already and when I've finished off her other
breast and it lies amputated on the blacktop she is crying fitfully but
still holding her hands behind her back obediently for me...so fucking
obediently...
   Bitch.
   I make her lick the knife-blade clean of dripping blood, wipe it off on
her hair, close the retractable blade and return the weapon to my pocket.
   Unzipping my pants I come up close to my slut.
   My prick is big, pulsing and in dire need of attention.
   "Deep-throat me," I order.
   She leans forward to comply, to take me lovingly, cupping my hard-on in
her soft red-painted lips, her face tilted upward, mascara lines running
down her cheeks and the side of her face.  Moving up against me on her
knees, her bloody tit-stumps soaking and staining my pant-legs, her hands
still locked behind her, clasped together, she swallows me down, straining
to stuff my meat rod in her throat-hole to please me.  She gags reflexively
wincing, white spittle spilling from the edges of her stretched mouth but
she begins nevertheless to fuck me with her bobbing head, her teary
defeated eyes looking up at me...lost.
   I take the .38 from my shoulder holster.
   "Give me your arm," I tell her.
   She raises the left one for me first.
   I take it gently by her fragile wrist, her hand clenched into a fist,
her nails grinding into the palm.
   I aim the gun at the soft fleshy forearm, just below the crease of the
elbow joint, and I fire.
   The explosive crack of the gun is deafening.
   "GGHWUUGHH!" she squawks, choking on my cock, trying not to move, her
eyes wide with terrible pain.
   The bullet has torn a gaping black bleeding gash in her pretty arm and
gone right through snapping the bone like a twig.
   I let her wrist drop and cock the gun.
   "Your other arm, woman," I tell her.
   "Ghm - gh!  - gh!" She grunts impaling herself deeper on my prick.  The
vibrating sensation of her throat on my shaft is delightful.
   She raises her other arm now for me.  I take her braceleted wrist and
hold her limb firmly outstretched.
   "C'mon, bitch -" I growl encouragingly.  "...nhh...deeper...yeahh...take
me deeper...choke on me..."
   And as she does, her cheeks red as she gasps for air, I fire the gun
into her upper arm near her pretty round shoulder.
   The impact of this shot slams her sideways and she topples to the ground
screaming, the bullet lodged deep in the deltoid muscle of her upper arm.
   I stand over my sobbing pain-wracked slut as she lies on the tar roof
between both her severed jugs.  Each mutilated orb floats on its own small
puddle of blood.  My bitch bleeds from her slashed bosoms and from both
gunshot wounds, her black dress spattered red and hiked up to her hips,
both bare legs exposed to the hip.
   "Ready?" I ask, stroking myself slowly.
   She looks up at me, her eyes vacant, and I know she is mine
now...completely.
   She nods resignedly.
   "Say: Yes, master.  I am ready to die for your pleasure'...C'mon, bitch.
Say
   it."
   The words are difficult but finally they come.
   "Y-yes - yes, m-master.  I am - ready - to - die - for your p-pleasure."
   "Good cunt.  Now, get up."
   She struggles to her feet and begins to totter toward the edge of the
roof.  Knowing what I expect of her she walks unsteadily, both her arms
dripping twin trails of blood as she goes to the large metal tripod-base on
the distant corner of the building.
   When the Colson Tool Company was operating here, the tripod, which
supports a rotating steel beam with a pulley on the end, was probably used
to hoist heavy machinery and supplies from the ground.  Now a rope leads to
the pulley and is secured to the base of the tripod.  I placed it there
when I brought Sabrina here a few days before.  The end of the rope, a
perfect hangman's noose, lies on the ground.
   I lift the noose with my free hand and drop it over her head tightening
it around her neck.  She trembles.
   Blood continues to run down her arms and drip off her finger-tips.
   "I - I love y-you, master," she says weakly.
   Her words make me reel with power-lust.
   "I know you do, pig," I reply coldly.  "And you're just about to show me
how much..."
   "It has to be this way, doesn't it?" she asks, knowing the answer
already, knowing that the event she has prepared herself for is now only
seconds away.
   She turns from me to face the terrible ten-floor drop off the edge.
   "Yeah," I answer her.  "This is just how it has to be...its what a whore
like you deserves."
   She waits there for a few interminable moments, my words sinking in, the
breeze riffling her dress, caressing her tangled, blood-mussed mane.  She
is dizzy and pale with the loss of blood and the drastic pain from her
shattered arms and severed tits and I marvel she can even stand up.  For a
second she reminds me of some French painting - a bare-chested woman
leading troops into battle...
   Then, with a sigh of determination she walks to the edge of the
black-top and steps off.
   The rotating metal beam squeaks and grinds with her weight as her strong
beautiful legs kick in mid-air, she swinging out away from the building
now, hanging by her neck, her bloody arms instinctively reaching up to the
strangling noose.  She kicks out lively, wildly, her tattered dress
fluttering about her, twists around to face me as I stand slightly above
her taking aim at her lovely sandalled feet with the gun.
   I hold the .38 steady in both hands remembering how nice, how sleekly
perfect those limbs looked climbing the stairs, how gracefully they moved.
   I squeeze the trigger.
   The gun blazes.
   Her right foot flies backward, the bullet ripping through, ankle-bone
splintered, my whore choke-screaming, swinging around and around as I wait
for her rotating to stop.
   I fire again and the other foot is shattered.
   Whore.
   I target her dancing legs squeezing off shots into her slender shins and
calves as she spins around, reloading to pump ten rounds into her thighs as
she hangs sputtering and screaming.
   Her dress if ripped and burned and bloody and I reload again to put some
bullets in her belly and chest.
   Still she lives, kicking a little less enthusiastically now, her face
going purple as her neck snaps and she begins to twitch.
   I put the gun back in my shoulder holster.
   Quickly I go to the tripod.  I take the knife from my pocket and with a
quick sawing motion I cut the rope free.
   The metal bar groans as it releases Sabrina's weight.
   I look over the edge to watch her long plummeting descent, half-naked
bloody bitch-meat wailing weakly as she falls, long terrible fall, her arms
and legs flailing, reaching, black gown fluttering like torn sail ripped
from a ship's mast.
   She crashes to the ground on to a large square sheet of thick plastic
tarp I've laid on the concrete terrace behind the abandoned building,
shattering, her skull splitting like a watermelon struck by a
sledge-hammer, spilling brains like gray marmalade, her ribs smashing to
bits, pulverized, legs and hips crushed, guts flying in all directions, one
bloody high-heel sandal rolling away into the overgrown grass.
   I jerk off hard now and my cum erupts from my balls and follows her down
to the ground below to spatter her remains.
   As I look down on my broken slut-pig, the furious orgasm gradually
subsiding, my pulse rate slowing, I fold and put away my knife.
   I shake my cock clean, put it back in my pants and zip up.  Then I kick
Sabrina's severed tits off the roof to see them splatter beside their owner
ten floors below.
   Later, I will go down there, before the light of day is completely gone
and I will roll up the plastic tarp, drag it into the woods and bury it
along with the mess wrapped in it that once called itself a woman.
   For now, I'm content to lean against the steel tripod and look at the
distant lights of the city, night coming quickly, my bloodthirst for the
moment satiated, the memories of the slut's destruction still sharp and
clear in my mind, the night-breeze cool and gentle on my face.
   WOODBURN