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.
   Innocent Blood
   The boy was dark-haired.  He had cinammon brown skin and coal-black
eyes. He looked like a gypsy and maybe he had gypsy blood - or maybe Arab -
I don't know.  He wasn't lanky or disproportionate like most twelve year
old boys.  He had nicely shaped limbs, pretty hands and feet, like a girl.
In fact, like all the other boys I've taken down, I thought of him as a
girl - a cunt-boy.  There was nothing masculine about him except his penis
and balls which were exquisitely shaped and somewhat abundantly
proportioned for his age.  But he had no body hair.  None at all.  I'd made
him shave it all off for me.  Everywhere except on his arms.  I didn't want
his parents to notice anything strange that would arouse their suspicions.
But as far as his legs and underarms and crotch he was smooth and clean
like a baby girl and he kept himself that way for me, in strict adherence
to my specifications.
   Ray was my baby-cunt-boy.
   He knelt on my kitchen counter, wrists roped together in front of him,
tears running down his face.  He knelt up there like a sacrificial offering
waiting for the ax to fall, the orange morning light pouring in through the
sliding glass door and making his slick body gleam.
   I had rubbed oil all over my baby-cunt boy, slowly, lovingly, sternly,
in silence, my strong hands kneading the greasy colorless fluid into his
cold skin while he knelt there, warming him up.  It was what I sometimes
did before I whipped him and fucked him.  Sometimes we did other things. 
We did whatever I chose to do.  He had no voice in it and chose only to
obey and submit adoringly to my decisions. I'd rubbed the oil even into his
dark curly hair, massaging into his scalp while I smeared my lips on his,
kissing my young cunt-boy, pushing my tongue into his mouth and taking
posession of him with my cruel kiss.  The smell of his warming flesh mixed
with the sharp scent of the oil as I stroked his cock and kissed him
feeling him get hard in my grip as he gasped for air, his brows arched.  I
told him, as I usually did, that I was going to whip him and fuck him,
whispering fiercely into his ear and I asked him what he had to say about
it.
   What he had to say was what I'd taught him to say.  Nothing more. 
Nothing less.
   "Break me, sir.  Use me as you see fit."
   "You little cunt," I sneered contemptuously my hand moving down to grip
his balls, his body stiffening, eyes shut tightly.  His submission often
angered as much as it pleased me.  It brought out the worst impulses in
me."This won't be a good day for you.  Not at all.  You may have to miss
school for a while again...tell mom you're feeling sick...lie in your
little bed at home and feel the things I've done to you...all the hurt no
one will see..."
   I gripped his scrotal bag tightly and watched pain etch itself on his
pretty features, his oil-smeared face contorted, his lips trembling.
   I pulled his head against my chest and held him against me as he let out
a stifled sob.  I squeezed his balls harder and he pushed his sobbing face
into the folds of my terry-cloth robe.
   Ray was four-foot five, I estimated his weight just under a hundred
pounds.  I was six-foot four, two hundred and forty pounds, in top physical
condition, able to bench press three hundred and to jog three miles each
morning.  My little cunt-boy was a plaything for me.  I could have crushed
his balls and broke his scrawny little neck with minimal effort.  Not to
mention the fact that I'd roped his wrists behind his back tightly -
remembering to wrap a washcloth around his slender limbs first so as not to
leave tell-tale rope-marks a diligent school-teacher or his mom or dad
might ask about.  He was helpless and in pain for me, suffering for me, the
way I liked it - the way he liked it too.  Ray was, for the most part, a
willing victim - a lovely angel boy who would go to any length to please
his master.
   "Pl-pleeease -" he groaned against the rumpled lapel of my robe.
   I yanked his head back by his wavy oil-smeared hair to look down into
his sweet face and I dug my fingers deep into his tender genitals.
   "Please what?  Is there something you wanna say to me, scumbag?"
   I was hoping he would beg for leniency, something that usually only made
matters worse for him.
   "N-nooo -" he groaned submissively, obviously reconsidering the outcome
of his words.  "No - n-no - n-nothing, sir - no-nothing."
   "That's good.  Because little shits like you have nothing of any value
to say in this world - am I right or am I right?"
   "Y-hh - yess - sir - no-nothing - nothing -"
   The wintry sunlight pouring into the kitchen twinkled in his teary eyes.
   I loved the way he looked up at me, so full of reverence and fear.
   I was his God - his cruel, vicious, all-knowing, all-powerful man-God,
here to claim his young innocent soul.  Little Raymond David Saldano was my
meat- puppet.  He belonged to me flesh and soul, heart, blood and guts and
I was going to use him over the next few months until he had nothing left
to give - not even his sweet breath.
   Slowly, while I crushed his little balls in my hand I kissed him on the
mouth again.
   He tasted good.  He was full of life for me.  Full of the potential for
suffering.
   I hadn't lied to him.
   This was going to be a rough day for him.
   But I'd put him through rough days before and he'd survived - that is,
I'd let him survive.  It was much more of a game for me to let him live, at
least for a while, maybe a year or so, and to suck all the life out of him,
all the youth and energy, all the goodness, all the humanity.
   I'd met him where I'd met all my other cunt-boys, the dearly departed
ones now in Franconia State park pushing up beds of wild flowers or in the
muddy waters of Greelie's Pond near Orchidea - I'd met him on the blessed
internet - godsend media of choice for those with my tastes.
   I didn't think of myself as gay and didn't come on to those kind of
boys'. That's a whole other scene and one I didn't have any real propensity
for.
   The boys I looked for were boys like me when I was growing up, boys full
of violent impulses, inexplicable, shameful and unsharable.  Boys who
tortured animals and watched gory movies and dreamed of torturing and
killing women.  Boys who thought of females as fuck-meat.  Boys who hated
women but who somehow integrated feminity into themselves in a kind of
schizophrenic sado- masochism.  Pretty unathletic feminine boys, who like
me, sometimes whipped themselves or pierced or cut themselves pretending to
be the female they wanted to hurt, assuming characteristics of both victim
and attacker in order to play out masturbatory fetishistic fantasies for
explosive orgasmic results.
   At first I didn't think I would find such boys.  (For me they had to be
boys - not teenagers.  Older than fourteen was out.  I wanted them as young
as possible, young enough to be fully sexual - but still corruptible - and
physically attractive.) But I discovered they were out there, definitely
out there, waiting to be found, waiting to respond to their Master's cruel
knowing voice.  Because I was a fully developed example of what was inside
of them, a definitive manifestation of their own insecure and nebulous
boyish longings, they gave themselves to me, trusted me completely and
irreversibly, followed the darkness in themselves and allowed it to blossom
under my tutelage.
   I don't know which pleased me more, the corruption of their still
partially innocent minds and bodies, or the sharing in the slaughter of
females with them. Once it became a paramount feature of my modus operandi
to use my cunt boys as co-conspirators in the brutal sadistic
rape-torture-kills of young female victims I fulfilled my deepest sadistic
yearnings and achieved my most pleasurable sexual orgasms that way.
   Ray was one of the best of my cunt-boys.  Since the age of eight he'd
had dark masturbatory fantasies about torturing and killing pretty girls
and women. He'd started jerking off even before his little pecker could
shoot sperm.  In fact, he'd told me that when sperm had first ejaculated
from his penis he'd been afraid he'd broken something - or that as a result
of his bad' thoughts, God had somehow punished him.  His masturbatory
episodes had evolved into ritualistic events lasting sometimes many hours
in which he covered himself with soap-slime and slid around on the bathroom
floor, whipped himself with coathangers, cut his thighs with razor blades,
imagined himself a helpless female in the clutches of some galactic
rape-beast.  His parents had once left him alone for a couple of days
during a family emergency that had taken them out of town to a distant
relative and Ray had almost killed himself by tying himself up and putting
his head through a leather belt tied around a doorknob, slipping and
sliding around covered with white soap lather, slashing at himself with a
metal ruler until the sides of his thighs bled, the belt choking him almost
unconscious as he shot his semen against the bedroom wall.  He always
managed to clean up all evidence of his solitary orgies in the nick of time
and he explained away any visible marks as injuries incurred during
rough-play with friends outdoors so as to keep his parents in the dark. 
Mr. and Mrs.  Saldano, in fact, were never even curious.  They had no idea
that Ray was a friendless boy, teased unmercifully for his girlish and
wimpy appearance, harboring dark murderous sado-masochistic thoughts and
sharing them with strangers like myself on the internet.  Ray's parents
were completely clueless.
   He'd confided all these things to me over a period of several days in
late summer, over the internet, before we actually met in person.  (Late
summer was the perfect time for me to go boy-hunting because that way I
could hook my prey early in the school year and use school as a cover for
his absences from home.  Nothing pleased me more than to take over a young
boy's life, to watch his academic performance, which was usually nearly
flawless, since my subjects were usually of a higher intelligence quotient
than their so-called normal' peers, take a nosedive, and to watch him
spiral downward into ever deeper, ever darker waters.) Now Ray knelt on my
kitchen counter in mid winter his balls in my hand, my lips smothering his
pretty mouth, both his arms resting on my forearm, his small oiled body
quivering against me with anticipation.
   The way I worked it with Ray as with my previous victims, was to have
them meet me in the park downtown.  We arranged such meetings through
email. From the park I would drive them to a barren, sparsely populated
industrial area, to a dark alley where I would have them strip naked and
climb into the trunk of my car.  There I would hogtie them, gag them and
blindfold them and drive them to my place outside the city.  That
experience usually softened them up for the rougher treatment that would
follow.  It also made it impossible for them to know where they were being
taken in case they were ever questioned about it, or in case they changed
their minds and turned on their Master, something which, after eight
victims, had not yet happened.  Still it never hurt to be cautious.  In
fact, whenever I went out to pick a boy up I attached a set of fake license
plates to my vehicle, in case one of my victims ever thought to memorize
the plate number.
   When I was ready for a take down I usually requested my boys to bring me
their computers or laptops, something that by that time in our
relationship' they did unquestioningly and without a second thought.  I
didn't want any evidence to be left lying around for nosy investigators to
find and since I was the one who bought the internet accounts my boys used
to contact me the setup was pretty much untraceable.  After I'd disposed of
the children, I would dispose of their computers, disassembling them, just
as I'd disassembled their owners, and tossing all parts into the marsh near
Greelie's Pond or other similar out-of-the-way places.
   With Ray things evolved very quickly.
   He was an excellent disciple, ready willing and able to submit to
anything I demanded.  He loved to please me and showed himself fully
capable of carrying out any task I put to him.  Besides he was very
intelligent, a quick learner, able to anticipate my demands and wishes,
accepting the most brutal treatment, opening himself to my every sick whim
and fancy with selfless abandon.  He had the tightest little asshole too.
Just like a little girl's virgin cunt.  I'd come inside him several times
and made him mine and still his little sphincter was as tight as the first
day, resilient and firm.
   This morning he'd come to me eagerly, waiting impatiently under the bare
snow-dusted trees in the park for me, whimpering excitedly when I'd tied
his naked shivering body up in the trunk and climbing up obediently on to
my kitchen counter after I'd walked him in from the carport.  He smelled of
sweet scented soap and I knew he'd probably bathed himself for me before
leaving his home.  His cock had already been hard and erect when I started
to put the oil on him, now it was stiff and bowed, arching up toward his
belly as I squeezed his balls brutally and bit his lips.
   I jerked his head back and spit in his face releasing him and stepping
away to pick up the braided electrical cord that was draped over the
swiveling bar-stool back.
   "Kneel up straight and reach up for the ceiling," I barked.
   He obeyed instantly, lifting his bound hands, stretching his slender
arms upward, his face framed between them, my spittle running off his chin.
   "Filthy maggot," I snarled, drawing the four foot long braided insulated
brown cable back.
   I swung the makeshift whip.  It whistled thinly and swatted into his
side just below his arm-pit.
   "One!" he cried out, his head tilting back.  Then, as he'd been taught:
"I love you, sir.  Please beat me again."
   I smiled, drew back and hit him again, swinging from the opposite
direction, slicing into his left flank.
   "Twooo!  - I love you, sir.  P-Please beat me again."
   The braided electrical extension cord was one of my favorite weapons
insofar as it stung sharply and left vivid red welts which usually died
down after a couple of hours.  I rarely left lasting marks on my boys but
when I did, as I'd done with Ray a month earlier, beating his pretty face
with my fists until I'd darkened both his eyes and split his lips, punching
him until he sagged unconscious before sodomizing him brutally, the cover
story was that a gang in the park had attacked the child, or that a bully
had jumped him after school Such stories couldn't be played on too often
but I usually got to use them at least twice with each of my victims.  I'd
put two of them in the hospital with that excuse.  One boy, a blonde
thirteen year old named Johnny Saul, had to go into intensive care and I
thought I was done with him.  Two months later he'd been out of the
hospital and ready to come back to me.  I went easy on him the first time
getting him hooked on heroin instead of beating him.  Johnny Saul was a
great cocksucker.  I used to deepthroat him after sinking the hypodermic
needle right into the vein in his cock to give him his dose.  He helped me
kill a young black stripper.  I chloroformed her in a parking lot and
dragged her into a moving van I had rented with a fake ID.  While I drove
the van out of town Johnny raped and tortured the gagged niggerbitch in the
cargo compartment.  By the time I had driven off a dirt road on route seven
he'd already sliced her tits off and he was fucking her with a butcher
knife.  I let him have that kill watching him slowly cut her to pieces and
come in her blood-ripped cunt while she died - then I made him get on his
knees on the dirt road and give me a blowjob.  It was a warm moonlit summer
night.  I came in his throat, made him swallow my load - then I took out my
nine millimeter put it to his forehead and blew his brains out - I'd asked
for his computer the day before and I buried him and the dead stripper in a
patch of birch trees fifty yards off the dirt path.  His Dell powerbook
ended up in pieces tossed off the pier at Tallus point.
   "Oww - threee!" Ray cried as my braided cord slashed across his smooth
belly.  "I love you sir.  Please beat me again."
   "Kneel up straight, pig.  Don't slouch!"
   Swwooooshhh!
   "Ahgg - fourr!  - l-love you - sir - please - beeat - mee - againnn -"
   Whhhhiiffff!  Across his little titties.
   "Owww!"
   His head tossed back, his body tensely arched.
   "Five sirrrr love you pleease beat me againn!"
   Sslllasshhhh!
   Across his muscular thighs.  I loved to hit him there.
   "Shittt - Sixxxx - ahhh - love you sir please beat me again!"
   Whhhappppp!  Across his welted belly.  Loved that even more.  I took a
grip of the extension cord from the opposite side to give my cunt-boy the
plug-tipped end.  The square slitted plastic and the pronged male
attachments which were braided together made a thick meaty sound as they
struck.  I knew they would leave small bruises on his brown skin.
   "AA-AWWHHH!!  S-sevennn!  Please sir!  Let this piece of slime meat jerk
himself off!"
   "Permission denied!"
   SSSLLLLASSHHHH!  Again across his belly.  I liked Ray's brown belly. I
was gonna turn it red for him, splotch it with plug-bruises.  I gave him
eight, nine, ten, eleven there - hard - not going easy on my cunt-boy today
- no way.  He kept counting, professing his love for me all the way up to
fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen - nineteen and twenty I gave him
across his dark brown little nipple buds - little bitch boy fuck - he
squealed those numbers out.  Yes he did.
   "Turn around, dirtbag!" I snarled.  "I want your ass - don't you put
your fuckin' arms down!  Keep em high.  That's right.  Kneel up straight! I
told you not to fuckin' slouch - yeahh - up nice and straight for me -
stick your ass out for it, bitch - c'mon - c'mon - who's my cunt?  Huh? 
Who's my little cunt?"
   "I'm your little cunt, sir - me - whip me, sir - cut me to shreds -
that's what I'm here for."
   His knees slid around on the oil-smeared marble counter-top, his feet
too as he tried to keep his balance.  Little oil drips whipped off his skin
by the braided wire had speckled the tiled wall above the counter all the
way up to the ceiling.  They twinkled like Ray David's tearful eyes. 
Little star specks on the solemn black marble.
   "May your little cunt pleasure himself, sir - pleease -?"
   "Negative - and if you ask me again its going to go very badly for you,
scumbag."
   "I'm sorry, sir."
   "You're not sorry yet.  But you will be.  Just who the fuck do you think
you are?  What makes you think your pleasure matters at all?  What makes
you think I give a rat's ass about your pleasure?"
   "I'm sorry - you're right - only your pleasure matters - only yours,
sir. That's why I'm here.  To please you and nothing else."
   "Now you're gettin' it right, bitch."
   He knelt there waiting.  I knew he wanted to jerk himself off badly. 
The whippings usually did that to my cunt-boys - excited them beyond
anything they'd imagined.  But for Ray the intensity was greater than any
of the other boys I'd had before.  He was a true whipping boy.  He needed
to hurt for me and to debase himself for me and to be taken to the absolute
limit.  He was beautiful, my little fuck- Arab kneeling on my black marble
kitchen counter, oil-slicked and shiny in the morning sunlight, the pale
soles of his feet upended, the edges of the welts I'd already put on him
wrapping around his hips and shoulders and thighs.  He had such a perfect
little ass too, not hard and tight like a boy's but, like everything else
about him, feminine, round, slightly plump with babyfat.  I could whip him
harder there because no one would see the welts and cuts.  I'd cut his
little ass before and he'd managed to keep it well hidden although I don't
know how he managed to sit for the days following his beatings.  Right now
I was in the mood to bleed that little brown rump, to stripe it right down
to the muscle.
   "We're going for silence, boy, understand?"
   He nodded.  I saw goose bumps break out all over him and I smiled.
   There would be no counting now.  Going for silence meant I didn't want
to hear a peep from him.  We'd played the game before.  I always won.
   I stepped up closer to the counter and dangled the oil-slicked whipping
cord over his face.  The plug-end hovered near his lips.
   "Lick that, shitface - just like if it was my cock - lick it good for me
before I use it on you again..."
   His pink tongue poked out between his lips and he did as he was told,
eyes closed, softly moaning.  I let him lick the full length of the
extension cord before I snatched it away leaving him there with his tongue
hanging out.  I was ready to make every single cut count.
   "Spread your knees open.  I want to see your balls - Close your fuckin'
mouth, stupid and goddamn it, keep your arms high and your back straight -
I don't want to have to tell you again."
   "Yes, sir."
   "Shut up boy.  Its quiet time.  You don't have a voice anymore."
   I slipped my robe off needing to be naked for this.  My cock boomed out
erect and heavy.
   Outside, in my walled-in backyard, the snow gleamed on the ground and
ice drops glimmered in the bare branches of the trees.  The barometer in
the kitchen window read twenty two degrees.  Inside, the digital thermostat
on the wall reported a much more comfortable seventy four.  The vents
breathed a gust of hot air into the kitchen which I felt caressingly on my
shoulderblades as I raised the braided electrical extension.
   My balls tingled.
   Just as I'd told him, it was gonna be a bad day for my little cunt-boy
Ray.
   Real bad.
   2.
   By the rules of the silent game I was to whip him harder and harder and
he was to make no sound for as long as he could stand it.
   He took forty five cuts across his asscheeks and back, each one
progressively more harsh and destructive before he finally let out a
girlish scream and crumpled on the counter twitching and rolling over on
his side.  I told him I wasn't done and that he'd better get his ass back
into position for me.  It took all he had to obey me but he did it and I
gave him ten more which he endured with choked off cries.  Then I swatted
his pretty little balls six times with the heavy plug-end before he slammed
forward into the tiled wall screaming and pleading with me.
   Wordlessly I strapped a dog-collar around his neck, yanked him off the
kitchen counter and dragged him out into the cold morning.
   I made my naked whip-marked cunt-boy kneel on the concrete of the rear
patio, our breaths making quick puff-clouds, he slouching in pain, bleeding
on the snow-dusted ground, his hands clutching at his aching genitals, me
standing over him, leash in hand, pulling his face to my long sleek penis.
   "Hands up behind your head!  Suck your God's cock, maggotface."
   He did immediately as he was told, wasting no time to wrap his pretty
lips around my hard meat-shaft.
   "Yeahh - Grease it up good, bitch," I told him as his head bobbed back
and forth and his throat clucked on my cockhead and his eyes looked up
pleadingly into mine.  He looked so sweetly helpless with his arms drawn up
and back and his wrist-bound hands clasped to his skull.  "I'm gonna put it
so far up you you won't be able to breathe."
   When it was so cold neither one of us could stand it any longer I
dragged him back inside, making him crawl on the icy ground behind me,
taking him back into the kitchen, pulling the sliding door shut behind us
and leading him to the bedroom.
   "Get up on the bed," I told him bluntly.  "On your knees.  I want your
little whipped bitch-ass up in the air for me."
   He was sobbing and sniffling as he crawled up on the disheveled sheets.
   Someone with a merciful heart might have been touched by his pain and
humiliation - for me it was a foreplay.
   A shaft of sunlight cut through a gap in the drapes and across his
postrate body.
   On hands and knees he waited for me, the leash dangling from his neck,
his feet sticking out over the edge of the bed, his head hanging down
defeatedly.  He was still slick with oil.  Bits of melting snow slid down
off his ankles and tiny drips of blood snaked down his thighs from the
welt-streaked flesh of his buttocks.  I asked him to spread his thighs open
and hovered over him, behind him just studying him - small boy - wounded
willing cunt-boy offered and presented for me as I stroked myself slowly. I
moved toward him, leaned down slightly to push my engorged prick to his
puffy anal star.
   "Tell me what you are, boy," I said softly.
   "I'm a hole for you, Master - I'm - I'm nothing - a zero - a place for
you to put your cock into - an empty place."
   I pushed forward slightly.  He pushed back against me, his hands
gripping the sheets, the smell of oil and blood coming up off him.
   "That's good, boy - what else?"
   "I'm garbage, sir - trash - worthless - not worthy of the pleasure you
give me - not worthy even to be in your presence, master -"
   "Ahhh - that's good boy," I told him pushing my cock slowly into his
asshole.  He was good at improvising - good with words - better than any of
the other boys I'd had.
   "What else, boy?  Don't bore me."
   "Nothing I have to say could ever hope to entertain you, master - unhh -
you're on a much higher level than me - I am - a piece of shit - sir and
I'm blessed that you found me and decided to use me - ahhh - push into me
hard - show me no mercy - uhhh - I'm the lowest form of scum in the
universe - ohhh yeahhh break me, sir!  break me!"
   "You're disgusting, you stupid mindless little shitt - uhhhh -" I
gripped his bloody asscheeks and hooked my fingers around his hips to slam
into him gouging deep into his shithole.
   "Ahh yess sirr - uhh - I'm disgusting - an ugly disgusting stupid
thoughtless hunk of human waste - my mind is full of filth - like a sewer
-"
   "That's right, boy.  Your mind is a sewer.  I'm gonna ream the shit out
of you and make you eat it.  You'll be my little human sewer, won't you?"
   He sobbed with gratitude as I corkscrewed myself deep into his asshole,
deeper and deeper until my balls were slapping right up against his.
   I yanked his head up and back by the leash then.
   "You ready to eat shit, boy?"
   He nodded choking.  I dropped the leash and slid back out of him.
   My shaft was coated with his faeces.
   I stepped up on the bed in front of him and he got up on his knees to
lick the shit off my prick slowly and lovingly, caressing my balls gently,
prayerfully, in his bound hands as he did so.
   The sunlight fell across his face as he worked me tenderly and I let him
do it, my hands down at my sides as my baby-cunt-boy began to bob his head
back and forth on my tingling meat.
   "Mmm - very nice, boy -"
   He moaned responsively and looked up at me his eyes abjectly worshipful.
   "I think you're ready for your first kill - what do you think?"
   His eyes suddenly gleamed with excitement.
   "Don't stop sucking me," I warned.
   He didn't and I gripped his head by his short oil-smeared hair.
   "Ahhh - yeah - its time for you to get a taste of bitch-blood.  We've
been talking about it long enough - uhhhh - I have a perfect victim in mind
for us boy - mmmm - a perfect fuckin' sweetie-pie bitch -"
   I slid my cock out of his mouth and traced his lips with the tip of it.
   "She's only nine," I whispered smiling, thrusting my cock back into his
doting mouth as his eyes went wide with surprise and yearning.  "Just the
way you told me you like em."
   He pulled back and whispered:
   "Thank you, master."
   I looked at him for a moment and still gripping his little head in one
hand I slapped him brutally across his pretty face.
   "I told you not to stop sucking, now didn't I?"
   He nodded quickly, flickers of fear playing across his face.
   "Didn't I?!"
   "Yes, sir."
   I slapped him again harder.
   "Get off my bed."
   "Pleease, sir.  Pleease cum in my throat.  I'll be quiet.  I won't say
anything."
   "Get off my fucking bed, cunt.  You're in for it now.  Stupid mindless
disobedient little slime.  Serves me right for treating you like a human
being."
   He crawled to the floor as I stepped off the bed cracking my knuckles.
   I didn't think I'd slapped him hard enough to leave marks and though I
sorely wanted to bash his cute little face in and have him use the
gang-in-the-park or the bully-at-school story as cover again I wanted him
strong enough for what I was planning two weeks down the road.
   He crawled toward the corner of the room in a half-hearted attempt to
escape me and he cringed against the wall.
   I wasn't going to leave marks but I was going to hurt my little naked
boy slave - and hurt him bad.
   Yanking him up by the leash I propped him up against the wall and
crouched to punch him in the stomach, to wind him and make him bend
forward. I punched his upper thighs and punched his crotch then pulling him
up by the neck almost off his toes and holding him there I punched his
whipped asscheeks and his lower back as he swung around and around in
circles sobbing and pleading with me.  I punched his belly and his chest
and then I let him fall to his knees gasping for air.  Then I pinched his
nostrils and drew him by his nose back to my prick jerking his head back
and forth, force-feeding him my cock until I felt the hot surge of cum
about to erupt.
   I drew back and shot two spurts on his flushed face, one into his dark
hair, one into his eye blinding him then I jammed my cock back in his mouth
to empty the rest of what I had into his mouth and throat.
   "Uhhhh!" I growled.  "Drink me!  Lick me clean, shitface."
   He nodded urgently and swallowed what he could and wiped his face on my
still spurting prick whimpering eagerly.
   When I was done I took a step back and just stood there staring down at
him.
   He was waiting on his knees, winded, beaten, my jism oozing down off his
chin and rolling down his long graceful neck.
   He was waiting and I was making him wait.
   Cunt-boy.
   My little beautiful gypsy Arab slave cunt-boy.
   I knew what he was waiting for.
   "Do it," I said finally watching him take his cock to jerk himself off
desperately with both hands.
   I saw a look of bliss move across his face and I had to hold back the
desire to break his cute little nose with one well-placed punch.  Instead I
watched him moan feebly as he rose up, still on his knees to ejaculate, his
hot young cum spurting out on to the blue bedroom carpet, his slender body
rigid in spastic orgasm.  It was a disgustingly premature and uncontrolled
performance and he knew it because he opened his pretty brown eyes to
glance in my direction, already suspecting my displeasure - Again, slowly,
his expression ebbed into fear and his vacant smile evaporated.
   "You piece of shit," I growled disapprovingly.  "You're in for it now."
   3.
   "You told me to do it!" he protested weakly.  "I did what you said!  I
always do what you say!"
   "Shut the fuck up, boy.  If you keep talking to me like that you may not
be able to leave here today on your own two feet.  You may have to be
dropped off in the park again..."
   That did the trick.  He knew I'd do it too.  I'd done it before.
   We were in the cellar.
   I'd hung him up on leather cuffs that dangled from hooks in the ceiling
beams.  He dangled by his wrists and ankles, legs wide apart.
   "Pleease, master..." he whined.
   In response I drew back and punched him in the balls.
   He let out a hoarse cry and jerked against the chains which rattled
noisily against the hooks.
   I did not wait for him to recuperate from my blow.  Instead, I put my
cock up against his asshole and pushed in as he sobbed and moaned.
   "Shut up, bitch!" I shouted at him.  "Learn to take the pain."
   He bit his lip and stifled himself in a taxing effort to please me.
   "I told you it was gonna be a rough day for you," I said and showed him
the needle.  "Now didn't I?"
   "When I said do it' I didn't mean you to wank off all over my carpet.  I
gave you no permission to cum.  Only to play with yourself.  You should
have known better.  Now, you'll take what's coming to you."
   He nodded, closed his eyes and pushed his face against his upraised arm.
   I knew that deep inside he wanted to take what I had to give.
   He needed it, desperately.
   The needle was one of twenty-four which lay on a small table next to me.
   With my free hand I lifted his now limp penis up against his belly to
expose his slightly swollen, flushed, welted genital sacs.  I licked my
lips and pushed my cock deeper into my suffering cunt-boy.  I wanted to
feel his response to the pain I was going to inflict on him all over my
prick.
   "Ugghhh," he grunted as I went almost all the way in - a thirty-five
year old man in a twelve-year old boy.
   Then I waited there, the two inch hypo needle in my hand between thumb
and forefinger, my other hand pressing his cock against his belly - I
waited listening to his panting breaths in the soundproof room both of us
bathed in the yellow glow of halogen lights.
   "Here's the first one, you little fuck," I said softly and I pushed the
needle deep into his right testicle.
   He flinched and gave out a high-pitched cry, his sphincter tightening
demandingly around my cock.
   "Ahhh, yeahh," I groaned, picking up the next needle, lifting it up to
push it right next to the first one.  "...teach you to cum without
permission..."
   Ray bounced on the chains and tried ineffectively to escape me but he
wasn't going anywhere.
   "Take the pain, boy - take it - let it fuck you - learn to love what I
give you - I know you want to -"
   I took another pin and sank it into his other testicle.
   "Uuhgg-ggg!" he groaned.
   "You have to know what pain is in order to be a good cunt killer."
   I pushed another needle into him.
   Gently I stroked the underside of his little cock with my fingers.
   "Take the pain into your soul, son, and soon - very soon now you'll be a
cunt-killer, Ray - just like me."
   "Ahhhgg!"
   "Yes, son.  You should see her.  I picked out a real honey for you."
   His penis was starting to respond already slightly tumescent as I pushed
another needle into my cunt-boy's balls making him cry out, making his feet
twitch as I began to piston my manmeat in his ass.
   "She's blonde - Her name is Melanie - ahhh - she's got the cutest little
face - I saw her swimming at the indoor pool in the Mariott in Gladstone -
ahhh - actually talked to her - what a cute little sweetie pie, boy..."
   I picked up another needle and pushed into the crevice between his
balls. He moaned weakly, his prick already fully erect.  He was beginning
to accept the stabbing pins, incredibly, to respond to the punishment with
arousal - I began to jerk him off as I fucked his asshole, giving him
pleasure even as I gave him pain, driving deep into him, remembering my
conversation with the little girl.
   "She was standing there - all wet and slinky - mmm - in a pink two-piece
- smiling - I wanted to pick her up and strip her nude and fuck her right
there on the ground, boy - uhhhh - drag her into the pool and drown her -
instead I pretended to be Mr.  Niceman - fuckin' little slutt - uhhh -
yeahh - that's it, move against me like that - mmmm - I told her she was
such a good little swimmer, and what was her name, and whose little girl
was she, all that good shit - mmm - ahhh that's nice boy, keep squeezing me
with your asshole, just like that - uhhh - no one was around, I mean not in
our immediate area - and she told me her dad owned the hotel and she went
swimming there every day - she told me everything I needed to know -
fuckin' little shitt -"
   I didn't tell Ray what I was doing in the hotel.  I figured it was none
of his business and in his present condition, with three-quarters of my
ten-inch monster up his bowels, he wasn't about to ask anyway.  I often
went bitch-hunting in hotels in surrounding towns and had scored many times
with lonely females on business trips or hookers hanging out in the lounge
but rarely with children who were often closely supervised.  Once I had
raped a little girl in a metro station next to a hotel but that had been an
impulsive thing (though rather sweet, specially when I punched her belly
and strangled her watching her die against the wall as I emptied my balls
in her, the roaring train drowning out her small winded cries) and I did
not indulge in that kind of attack anymore.  I usually hooked up with the
females and had them come to me later to another location.  I never killed
cunt in a hotel.  That was risky if not outright insane.
   With little Melanie Johnston I'd been extremely lucky - I hadn't even
been thinking anything, just sitting back in the reclining chair in my
Tommy Hilfiger trunks wondering if I should jump in the water or not when
she walked up to me all wet from the pool to ask me if I was David Tellman,
an actor on a TV cop show.  I was often mistaken for Tellman, a gimmick I
used to my advantage.  I sat up in the chair - mostly to hide the fact that
my prick was already responding to the half-nude blue-eyed child before me
- and I told her she was a very smart little girl but that she shouldn't
tell anyone who I was because I was taking a vacation from the show and I
didn't want anyone to know about it.  My eyes, meanwhile, devoured every
delightful detail of her nubile physique, her small chubby hands pressing
the towel which was wrapped over her shoulders to her chest, her wet hair,
radiantly golden, streaking in spiral-strands over her forehead, her cute
little feet, toenails painted green, her impish blonde-blue-eyed face, with
turquoise eyes, twin lakes of innocence looking up at me, thinking I was
that idiot actor, swallowing my clever deceipt, responding predictably to
my manipulative words.  I told her she was smart and pretty - something
that wins over most females of any age - stupid cunts starved for attention
- needy - allowing men to define their self-esteem - gullible, weak,
submissive - just like this perfect little nymphet - made to satisfy the
sick sadistic cravings hidden deep in our masculine psyche.  I told her
that I'd be back to the hotel in a few days and that I would give her my
autograph and my picture then - but that she wasn't to tell anyone - no one
- that I was there.  And she smiled slyly, nodded and scampered away.
   "She doesn't know who I am -" I told Ray picking up another needle. His
scrotum was now a veritable pin-cushion.  "She thinks I'm somebody else -
this actor guy - and she's gonna be waiting for me next week and I'm gonna
take her - bring her here for us -"
   I shoved the hypo deep into his left testicle, almost to the hilt and he
gasped and lurched in the chains, looking up at me helplessly as I stroked
his now fully erect organ.  He was looking at me that way I really liked,
his eyes full of reverence and awe and respect and fear - and love as well.
He was all shiny with oil and sweat and tears were streaming from his
doting eyes.
   "You're not lying to me, sir?" he asked weakly.  " - t-to play w-with
me, I mean...like you like to do."
   "No, pig," I told him picking up the twenty-third needle.
   "I'm not lying to you."
   I thrust the needle into his balls and watched his expression melt into
anguish.
   "I don't deserve your kindness," he groaned.
   "No, you don't," I agreed, gripping his slender legs to fuck him for a
few minutes, to pull him to me and away while I just stood my ground,
jerking myself off with my cunt boy before picking up the last needle.
   "Still - you and me are going to take little Melanie apart - uhhh - just
like a little rag doll - mmm - piece by piece -"
   "Yes, sir -"
   I showed him the needle as I peeled the foreskin back from his now
bone-hard pecker to reveal his glistening glans.
   "Ask me for this," I told him softly.  "Ask me for it nice, scumbag."
   He trembled, his breathing shallow and uneven, his chestnut eyes
unswervingly fixed on mine.
   My beatiful little gypsy cunt-boy.
   Loving me and needing me.
   "W-wait -" he blurted.  "May this worthless cunt-boy please ask you a
question first, sir?"
   "You may."
   "Will you let me fuck her - the Melanie girl?"
   "Yes."
   "Will - will you - will you let me h-hurt her?"
   "Oh yes.  Both of us are going to hurt her, to punish her, to give her
what she fucking well deserves - Now ask me nice for what you know you need
to ask for, boy.  Don't keep me waiting."
   "Yes sir - mm - p-put that needle in me, sir - shove it into my dick -
hurt me with it."
   I stared at him meanly.
   "I told you to ask me nice, boy."
   "Mm - yes - uhm - I'm sorry, sir - please - please, sir, put the needle
in me - put the needle in your worthless slave-boy's peepee - mm please?"
   "Shut the fuck up."
   I began to jerk him off steadily as I pushed my prick deep into his
tight little shit-chute, deep as I could go, gouging him open, watching
him, watching his eyes eventually glaze over with the oncoming pleasure. 
His needle pierced balls slapped against my belly as I began to thrust
forcefully in and out of the helpless child and to fiercely pump his hard
little prick still holding the needle in my free hand where he could see
it.
   "Uhh - uhh - uhh," he grunted.  "May I c-cum now sir?  May I?"
   "Yes, pig.  You may."
   I kept fucking him and working his cock and then just as the first spurt
of cum began to rise up in his hard warm little pisser I pushed the needle
into his glans, jamming it in just below the bottom of the red bulb-tip
making him scream as I pushed it stubbornly through until it ripped out the
other side, sperm and blood now spewing from his piss slit as he screamed
raucously, his asshole love-squeezing my meat-shaft.
   His frenetic shrieks of agony made me smile gloatingly, my own orgasm
now churning as I gripped my cunt-boy by his hips and slammed into his
suspended body to empty my balls inside him, grunting and shimmying with
mind-numbing pleasure, burying my shaft between his welted buttcheeks.
   Before withdrawing from him I pulled all the needles from his balls, one
at at time and he sobbed for me, hung there crying, his warm blood running
down on to my prick and warming my testicles before trickling down the
inside of my thighs.
   I left the one needle in his flaccid member and slid out of him, walking
around to take his face in my hands and kiss his crying face and lick up
his tears.
   Then, cruelly, I reached down and yanked that last needle out of him, a
spurt of blood spewing from his little dick as he stretched stiffly in
frenzied pain and I smiled down on his suffering and waited for it to
subside.
   I cut him loose and we went back upstairs then I took him to the car. 
He had some difficulty climbing up into the trunk but I hogtied him,
blindfolded and bal- gagged him as usual and he yielded to me stoically. 
Once we were back in the city, I pulled into the alley to give him his
clothes and shoes which I'd tossed into the back seat so that he could
dress and sit up front with me.  When I opened the trunk he rose up
awkwardly on his knees as usual for me to be cut free.  I studied the welts
and marks I'd left on my little victim.  I felt the weight of my gun in the
shoulder holster and was tempted to take it out and put a couple of slugs
in little Ray's head - finish him right there - but I relented.  Instead,
after I pulled off his gag and blindfold I grabbed him by one shoulder and
pulled him to me in a fiercely violent kiss.  He gave himself to me
wordlessly, opening his mouth to let me stick my tongue into it.
   I felt pity for him, desire and disgust - all mixed together.  He
reminded me of myself - a version of myself I'd long ago discarded - his
innocence and ignorance endearing and enraging simultaneously.  And
somewhere deep inside I felt something else quite foreign to me - something
festering and dark - something none of my other cunt-boys had inspired in
me.  I felt a weird and sick kind of something I could only describe as
carnivorous and obsessive - love.
   It made me exceedingly angry.
   I cut him free of the ropes, tossed his clothes and shoes at him and
told him to get dressed.
   Later we drove in silence to the place I usually released him, some ten
blocks from his house in the parking lot of a deserted strip mall.
   It was late afternoon and daylight had already started to fade.
   He opened the door and just before stepping out into the cold street he
turned to me.
   "I love you," he said softly.
   "Yeah - right," I said.  "Get the fuck out of my car you little piece of
shit. And don't forget - in two weeks - same time, same place - if you know
what's good for you - and your stinking family..."
   He slid quietly out of the car and as he slammed the door shut I bore
down on the accelerator and skidded away out of the parking lot peppering
him with bits of ice and mud which the wheels of the car spat back at him.
He didn't even raise his arms to cover his face.
   Stupid, masochistic little scumfuck.
   I saw him become smaller and less significant in my rear-view mirror,
saw him watch me leave, standing there abjectly, an abandoned haunting look
in his eyes.
   "Gonna teach you what love means, you little cunt," I snarled under my
breath.
   And I meant it
   4.
   Don't believe for a minute I trusted any of my cunt-boys'
self-destructive fervor, or as in Ray's case, their love' for me, to keep
them on the straight and narrow.  That would be foolish on my part.  I used
a larger threat to keep them in line usually introduced by the second
meeting, usually when they lay hogtied in the trunk of the car, gagged and
blindfolded, naked and shivering.
   I usually delivered it as a soft whisper in their ear as I leaned over
them.
   "Tell anyone - anyone - about me - about what you and I do - about how
you met me and where and when - and I'll kill your mom, your dad, your dog,
your cat, your whole goddamn family, boy."
   By that time they'd seen my weapon collection at the house.  They knew
it was no bluff.
   "I will kill anyone who means anything to you, boy and I will make you
watch before I kill you as well...and I'll put my shotgun right up your
little ass and fuck you with it before I pull the fucking trigger...  do
you understand?"
   And they would nod quickly.
   "And don't think I won't know if you tell.  I've bugged your house and
your phone.  Nothing will go on that I don't know about."
   Sometimes I'd have them repeat it all back to me, all the threats in
perfect detail, while they hung in the cellar suffering for me, bleeding,
tortured and broken - Sometimes while I made love to them on my bed, my
cock deep up inside their warm guts.  And sometimes, for emphasis I would
fuck them with my gun, just to give them a taste of what they might get if
they decided to take it upon themselves to be little heroes.
   After a while the fear and threats became part of them.  It became their
religion.
   Most of them never suspected that once they'd given themselves to me it
was already too late.  They still had no idea that they were already dead,
bloody fuckmeat for their Master and Ruler.
   But Ray was different.
   Yes, I'd used the threat on him as well but I had the feeling I'd never
really needed it.  I had the feeling, that unlike the other victims he did
know his life was mine from the beginning and he gave himself to me in that
spirit.  I had the suspicion that if I asked him to kill his parents for me
himself he probably would have and though I was sorely tempted to pursue
that idea I never did. Not because of anything I felt for him or his
family, but because it was an act that went against the principles of my
modus operandi.  Such a dramatic act would bring undue attention to Ray and
his whereabouts and his contacts and all that police business that I always
steered clear of.  When I killed, I left no trace of the victim - male or
female - they simply vanished off the face of the earth and no connections
ever led back to me.
   That's why I was able to do what I did and get away with it.
   That's why I would continue to get away with it.
   I always stuck to my modus operandi and followed this absolute
commandment: no action would ever be taken impulsively.
   This principle applied in every case.
   Even in Ray's - even if it meant disregarding the unfamiliar emotions he
was stirring inside me.
   It most definitely applied in the kidnapping of Melanie Johnston.
   The only necessary items for the carrying out of that event, which I
brought with me to the hotel thirteen days after Ray Saldano had hung
suffering in my cellar on the end of my cock, his balls full of sharp
needles, was a large suitcase, some rope, some duct tape, and some
chloroform.
   When the child came up to my room at the Mariott to get what she thought
was a picture of David Tellman, the TV actor, in her little navy blue skirt
and red t-shirt, red socks and white sandals, her bright blonde hair tied
back in a pretty pony tail her mom had probably made for her I had already
checked for security cameras in the hotel hallways.  There were none.  Only
in the elevator.  Which is why I had asked poor docile obedient Melanie,
who had met me by the pool, to use the stairs.  ("More secret that way," I
told her grinning conspiratorially.) Anyway, I was only on the second
floor. Not far for her to go.  I had already researched her family history
and learned that mom and dad were caught up in a nasty divorce and that the
ownership of the hotel itself was being disputed in the courts.  Mom had
custody for the present but every day after school Melanie spent some time
at the Mariott with dad - a fool so caught up in business he didn't keep
track of his little daughter - something I'd been able to verify after
watching for three days as Melanie wandered all over the Mariott property
unsupervised.  (I'd watched her smile at me across the patio, a vanilla
ice-cream cone in her hand.  I'd watched her little mouth dipping down into
the creamy goo, her vividly blue eyes all shiny and I'd gotten a
considerably woody imagining those lips on my cock and my balls.) There
were no security cameras out by the pool area either and though someone
might have seen the child looking in my direction or talking to me it would
not have registered that I was not her guardian and they would not have
paid much attention and would not have been of much help to any police
investigators.  In any case I'd signed into the hotel with a fake ID and
the fake license plates on my vehicle.  Any record left behind of my
presence there was basically useless.
   I was careful.  I was a detail person and when I grabbed little Melanie
in my hotel room from behind and choloroformed her unconscious, tied her
up, gagged and blindfolded her and stuffed her into the suitcase I knew
with absolute professional certainty I'd walk out of the hotel with my
baby-bitch prize unnoticed.
   Mr.  and Mrs.  Johnston would have one thing less to dispute in their
divorce proceedings.
   As for me, I would not be returning to that Mariott, or that town, or
using that fake ID or those plate numbers ever again.
   Yeah.  The Johnston kidnapping had been a piece of cake.
   One of the easiest I'd ever accomplished.
   Melanie too was a real piece of cake, literally, scrumptious, in her
little blonde pony tail, red t-shirt, blue skirt, red socks and little
white sandals.
   By the time I got her home it was night and it had started to snow.
   I liked it when it was snowing outside and I was in the cellar with a
baby victim.
   It gave me a warm, comfortable feeling.
   A feeling of safety and anticipation.
   My preparative work had paid off.  I would be able to indulge my most
depraved needs in complete privacy and with absolute impunity.
   It was gonna be a long night and I'd taken a couple of caffeine pills
and a couple of snorts of happy dust to keep me sharp.  I wanted to get a
good start on my little captive princess before bringing Ray in the morning
as I'd planned.
   She was already awake and struggling against the ropes when I popped the
suitcase open and laid her out on the table in the cellar.
   Yeah, scrumptious was most definitely the word.  Her little skirt had
ridden up to her waist revealing her white cotton panties.  She'd lost one
sandal and her red socks were pulled down to her ankles below the strands
of rope I'd wound tight around her ankles.
   A hogtied girlchild is a sight for sadistic eyes and a child as fetching
as Melanie - well, it didn't take long for me to arrive at full erection
and to have to shuck off my clothes and to stand naked over her.
   By then I guess she'd figured out I wasn't that TV actor Tellman after
all and that there would be no autographed picture signing tonight,
although I'm sure that was not the first item of importance on her list at
that moment.
   She was bawling and choking, sniffling, her tears running down on to the
gray duct tape I'd strapped over her little mouth.
   I reached down and ripped the duct tape right off her pretty face.
   She gave out a little squeal and began to cry for her momma, her arms
wrist-tied behind her tugging at the rope line that linked her wrists to
her ankles, both her little feet, one sandalled, one not, pulled back,
knees bent as she lay on her tummy.
   I waited for a couple of minutes, just letting her vent her terror and
then violently I slapped her pretty little face turning her head and
silencing her.
   She looked up at me, her eyes horror-wide and she started wailing once
more.
   I slapped her again, harder this time, saying nothing, just watching her
react.
   I knew no one had ever treated her that way before.  She was in shock as
well as in pain.
   She was again briefly silent, her cheek reddened by my blow, which I was
sure was still ringing in her ears, and she lay there tugging on the ropes
and again gradually whining more and more and calling for her momma.
   Sweet little fuck.
   I stroked myself and watched her.
   I knew that my predatorial silence and hungry stare were scary for her.
Her eyes wandered down to my cock as I pumped it with slow-motion jerks and
back up to my face.  She didn't know where she was or how she'd gotten
there and to top it off here was this big strong naked hulk of a man
standing over her just looking at her and working himself up.
   Almost five minutes went by before I slapped her again.
   "Owww!" she yelled.  "No more - don't hit me no more -"
   "I'll hit you whenever I want to hit you, bitch."
   And to make the point I slapped her real hard, this time splitting her
lip, blood spilling down her cute little chin.
   "Oww!  Momma!  Oww!"
   "Your momma's not here."
   I slapped her with my other hand, turning her the other way.
   " - and she won't be coming by anytime soon - Your ass is mine now.  Got
it?"
   I yanked her head up by her pony tail leaning over her.
   "Say - Yes, sir.  C'mon, bitch.  Say it.  Tell me you're mine."
   She just looked at me so I hit her again.  Twice.  Not letting go of the
pony tail.
   "Say it, bitch."
   "Y-yes!  Yes, sir!  I'm yours - yours - yours -"
   "That's better.  But it doesn't mean I'll stop hitting you."
   And I slapped her three more times, still holding her by her hair.
   "Your ass is mine, Melanie.  Your ass and your cunt and your soul and
your blood.  You're gonna hurt for me.  You're gonna hurt for me and my
boy, Ray.  I'll be fetching him tomorrow."
   I slapped her again, viciously.
   "But for tonight you're mine and mine alone.  No one else's.  Not mom.
Or dad.  Or Jesus in heaven.  Tonight you're my little fuckbaby."
   Still holding her by her pony tail I offered her the back of my hand.
   "Kiss the hand that hits you, girl."
   And she did.
   And I hit her again.
   I stood there for a couple of minutes longer watching her suffer and
then I turned and went to the cabinet behind me.
   I returned to her with a riding crop in my hand - my own specially
designed riding crop.
   She was whining and trying to turn over on her side so I took a stretch
of rope, wound it three times, tight around her neck and looped it to the
table leg to keep her still.  I wanted her to remain hogtied on her belly
for what I had in mind.
   I reached down and gently removed her one remaining sandal.  Then I
slipped both her little red socks off her feet.
   Arched back and ankle bound her bare tootsies were lovely.  I stroked
her warm soles with the back of my hand which was still moist from her
angel-kiss and she made gagging noises as struggled and quivered to the
tickling sensations, the choke rope tugging on her neck.
   "Keep still or you'll strangle yourself, stupid," I growled stepping
back, raising the riding crop, tapping it against the white, invitingly
vulnerable undersides of her feet.
   I had customized this riding crop.  It had tiny metal spikes all over
the leather loop on its tip.  She whimpered as the spikes prodded her
tender skin.
   I knew what those spikes would do to her.  I knew she wouldn't be
walking again.
   Ever.
   "Hurt for me, Melanie," I said softly and I drew the crop back and swung
it savagely across her upraised feet.
   The sharp snapping sound of the spiked rod striking the child's soles
was followed by the prettiest high-pitched howl I'd ever heard - and I'd
heard many in this room.
   I drew back and struck again and she jerked against the choke rope,
gagging, sobbing and screaming.
   After the first five strokes my baby fuckgirl's feet were already
bleeding, miniscule rivers of blood oozing down into her roped ankles.
   Ten merciless strokes and they were dripping on her white panties,
scarlet pearls of blood.
   Fifteen and the blood was spattering the table and the child's hair and
her skirt and t-shirt.
   I needed to feel those slashed limbs on me so I moved in, grabbed her
roped ankles and twisted her legs down to rub my prick and my balls on her
bleeding soles.  This forced her to choke on the neck-rope, trying to look
back at me, trying to plead with me.  But I really couldn't give a shit
about anything she may have needed to say at that point and I just watched
her face flush darkly before releasing her and taking aim on her feet again
as she righted herself, bleeding limbs up in the air once more.
   A child's suffering is pure and unashamed and so it was that by twenty
strokes little Melanie had pissed herself through her blood-stained panties
and her babbling screams were just a continuous litany of pain and pleading
occasionally choked off by the rope around her neck.  By twenty five I'd
slashed down to the bone in a couple of spots and the skin of her left foot
was raggedy and tattered.  Her little toes were still painted green, bright
Ireland green, just like the day she'd walked up to me in the Mariott -
green now spotted with viscuous red - dramatic Christmas colors on my
scrumptious babyslut's toes.
   I stopped whipping her to drink in her suffering.
   Did I hate little Melanie?
   Hate was an understatement.
   My heart overflowed with a lustful need to destroy her utterly and to
make her senseless agony last as long as possible so that I could feed on
it.
   I often think that those who torture in the name of the state or God or
to get a confession from a criminal just simply put a name on this hatred,
on this fury, which underneath it all may be nothing more than some
indelible primal instinct, something perhaps about diminishing the gene
pool - establishing territorial supremacy.  For me it was insanely
pleasurable, as if I'd been made for this task.  Nothing else mattered,
nothing else counted but these hours spent with my victims, boy or girl. 
Children made the best targets for whatever this energy inside me was.  At
times, like now with Melanie, just standing over them and listening to
their erratic breathing, studying the sound and image of their punished
bodies, looking into their pleading eyes, seeing their violated spirits
trapped there - it was what gave me meaning above all else.
   And Melanie was such a heartbreaker - mmm, such a sweet, apple-pie,
sugar and spice all-American blonde bunnybaby.
   I bent down to talk to her.
   "Hey sweetie.  Did you like that?  Huh?  I bet your tootsies are warm
now aren't they?  Are you little feetsies warm enough?  Maybe they need to
be warmer. Hold this and don't fuckin' drop it.  You're gonna find out why
it's a mistake to talk to strangers - much less to go up to their hotel
rooms without telling your parents about it."
   I brought the riding crop up to her lips and she whined,
terror-stricken, taking it obediently.
   I went to the cabinet and looked on the top shelf.  The little bottle
was there and I reached for it.
   Tabasco sauce.
   I turned to my baby victim as I uncapped the bottle.
   "Remember.  Don't drop the rod no matter what.  Understand?"
   She nodded fearfully, her golden hair strands bobbing, her pouting lips
framing the black riding crop, her big eyes following my every movement
until I stepped out of her line of vision.
   I tipped the bottle over spilling some of the spicy red gunk on her
slashed footsoles then I capped it and put it down on the floor.
   As she began to mewl, the hot sauce already soaking in I began to
massage the fluid into her torn footflesh hard, kneading and squeezing the
rope-bound limbs. Soon she began to wriggle and squeal as the red tabasco
burned into the deep spike cuts - red on red - fire on fire.
   "Don't drop the rod, Melanie," I warned her.
   I caressed and prodded the furrowed contours of her insteps, the
pebble-like toes, the fragile bones beneath reaching down for the bottle to
spill some more hot sauce on her slashed up-turned feet.  I worked it in
between her toes and into each wicked slash until Melanie was sobbing and
wheezing delectably for me.
   Torturing an adult woman always provided deep pleasure but torturing a
nine year old was ten times more intense, even more intense when shared
with a cunt- boy, as I intended to do in Melanie's case.  I knew Ray was
going to like her. She was going to be his first.  I was going to be her
last.
   "Give," I told her as I took the riding crop from her lips to step back
from the table.
   Again I waited and watched until her head dipped down defeatedly, her
shoulders shaking with sobs and I drew back the spike-tipped riding crop.
   With severe cruelty I gave her ten more slashes on each foot, taking my
time between each cut to watch her scream wildly and writhe twisting
against the ropes.  I counted a full ten seconds between each crude
down-stroke taking careful aim, ripping her little feet apart, her
tabasco-marinated skin now hanging in strips from her heels.
   When I finished I reached down to pick and tear the bits of skin off her
making her jump and shriek and bounce on the torture table.
   Taking a knife from the cabinet I sliced the rope that held Melanie
hogtied, cutting the strand that bound her wrists to her ankles.  Her bound
legs snapped back on to the table and I untied the choke-rope and pulled
her up into a sitting position.  Hoisting the choke-rope up above her head
I knotted it to an o' ring that dangled on the end of a chain from the
basement ceiling.  Now she sat on the table in a little piss puddle, her
legs swinging out over the side, ankle tied, her wrists still bound behind
her, the rope squeezing into her throat, her teary eyes reflecting the
light of the overhead halogen lamps, full of fear and confusion.
   I needed the tortures I was going to inflict on her to be as devastating
as possible, in every way, so I looked in the cabinet drawer for a proper
blindfold.  Nothing increases the terror and anticipation factor better in
a victim than not knowing what's coming next and that's what I wanted for
little Melanie - absolute mind-wasting horror.
   Finding nothing which would have worked the way I wanted it to I finally
opted for the trusty duct tape ripping off a new strip and winding it over
her eyes, pressing it hard to her face, and around her little blonde head
as she whimpered.  Her lips quivered and pouted.  She again voiced repeated
trembling calls for her momma.  The face-slapping had left a couple of dark
bruise areas on her cheeks which were flushed bright red.  Her lower lip
was split and slightly swollen and the rope around her neck was tight
enough to probably make her dizzy.  Her ankle- bound feet dripped blood and
tabasco to the floor.  The smell of hot sauce, sweat, and child piss was
pungently arousing.
   I picked up the knife and began cutting away her clothes.
   I sliced her little t-shirt right down the middle and pulled the two
halves open, yanking at them, almost hauling her off the table, she held
mostly by the neck rope, screaming, as I tore the garment from her leaving
only half a sleeve still clinging to her left shoulder.  I pulled her
little wet blue skirt down her legs and tossed it aside and then I sliced
through the waistband of her piss-soaked white panties right to her crotch
before ripping them off her in pieces.
   Now she sat there bound, naked and shivering - ready to receive what I
was eager to give her.
   I started with the needles.
   I set the hot plate down on the table beside her and plugged it in.  The
acrid aroma of its heat wafted up into the room and I knew she would
probably be wondering what it was.
   She could hear me moving about as I got the needles and placed them on a
hot plate - enough of them to complete the circumference of the burner all
the way around - then the pliars and the gloves.
   "You're such a pretty little girl," I told her.  "Yes you are.  Soo
pretty...I like to hurt pretty girls like you, Melanie.  And little boys. I
like to hurt them bad..."
   "Nooo -" she moaned.
   "Oh yes.  I do.  And I'm going to hurt you, Melanie.  Do you think I
hurt your little feet?  Huh?  Did that hurt real bad?"
   "You hurt m-me -" she whined.  "Bad man hurt my feets - hurt - hurtt -"
   "Well, bad man was just getting started, sweetie-pie.  That was nothing.
Pretty soon you'll be looking back on your little foot whipping and
thinking how fuckin' wonderful that felt...in comparison."
   "Pleeease, don't, mister!  Pleease let me go back to my momma and my
daddy!  Pleease!?"
   "That's extremely ungrateful of you.  Didn't anybody teach you any
manners?  You're being very impolite, refusing my hospitality that way,
little girl... do you know what hospitality' means?"
   She shook her head.  The needles were almost ready.  Little swirls of
smoke were coming up from them.  I put on the gloves and picked one up with
the pliars.
   "You don't?" I asked.  "Well, my hospitality is a little different than
that of most folks - let me give you an example."
   I suddenly grabbed her head by the hair to hold her steady and I brought
the red-hot needle up to her ear.  With a quick thrust I drove it right
through the frail shell, in through the front and out the back, leaving it
stuck in her.  She gave out a shrill cry looked at me with disbelieving
shock and jerked around ineffectively.  I picked up another needle with the
pliars still holding my victim by her pony-tailed mane.
   "Did you like that hospitality, bitch?  Here's some more for ya."
   I put the second needle through her ear just below the other one.
   "Owwww!  Nooo!  Stopp!"
   "Don't fuckin' tell me to stop," I snarled picking up another needle. 
"You hear me?"
   She nodded frantically.
   "This is the way I treat all my pretty babygirl and babyboy guests - so
learn to love it cause there's plenty more where that came from...plenty
fuckin' more..."
   I gripped her harder and pushed the third needle through her ear lobe.
   She screeched and her bound legs kicked up against my knees.
   I smiled and picked up another needle, turning her head slightly,
pushing the hot metal now into her other earshell.
   "Whatsa matter?  Never had your ears pierced?  I don't do it the way
those places in the mall do it..."
   "Owww!  Please, mister, please let me go!  Let me gooo!"
   "Shut up, bitch.  You're not going anywhere anytime soon."
   I put two more needles in that ear leaving her with three on either
side, tiny blood drops on her earlobes and on her shoulders as I picked up
the next needle, held it in the pliars and studied her lovely agonized
angelic duct-tape-blindfolded face.
   Taking a hold of her head by her chin I brought the hot metal spike to
her chubby cheeks and pierced the pale skin with it making her screech with
pain.  I pricked her several times near her taped-over eyes and down near
her stretched suffering lips and up by the bridge of her nose taking my
time, pushing the needle into her skin and drawing it back out, until I'd
given her twenty three blood freckles all over her cute little face.  Then,
more forcefully, I jabbed the needle into her nostrils and cheeks, gouging
little holes in her, tearing blood vessels, pushing past the epidermal
layer and into the muscle and cartilage underneath, studiously hurting her,
holding her steady and fucking her face with the small sharp metal sliver.
I jabbed at her septum and at the corners of her lips and at her
blonde-haired eyebrows leaning in to lick up the hot oozing blood-drops, to
kiss my blindfolded babycunt and suck the blood from her.  Finally, I
thrust that needle through her nose, right through the middle of it, just
below the bone, from left to right, making her yowl tormentedly and I
picked up another one.  Reaching up from her chin I grabbed her lips
between thumb and forefinger to hold them shut while I pushed the hot
needle up from the lower lip and through the upper.  I kept holding her
mouth shut as she tried to scream out her pain and I forced six more
needles through her lips effectively nailing them shut.  She looked just
like a little duckling with her lips all pushed out and pierced through
like that - my fucked up little darling duckling slutbaby.
   I was just getting started with her - just starting to groove on her. 
It was gonna be a long night for Melanie Babydoll.  Too fuckin' bad for
her. Nobody told her to come and talk to me by the pool that day at the
Mariott.  I wasn't even looking in her direction.  She came to me.  Sweet
little slut-princess looking for attention from strangers.  Well, if it was
attention she'd been craving then she was gonna' get all this stranger's
attention.  All of it.  All night long.
   She strained to move away from me but the neck rope kept her in place
and her legs flailed against mine, her bound feet spilling blood on me and
on the floor.  To make her bondage more demanding I knotted the rope which
bound her wrists to a metal hook in the whipping post behind her making her
arms reach upward slightly; the piece of red sleeve from her torn t-shirt
now slid loosely down to her shoulder, the punished child tilting forward
as she sat on the edge of the table.
   I had lots of needles still on the burner, lots of undeserved cruelty
for Melanie One-Sleeve Babydoll.
   She was sweating profusely now and making muted grunting noises in her
throat.  I moved both my gloved hands down her small body to her hips and
down her thighs.  Gently I reached under her and cupped her hairless little
slit, teasing it with my fingertips.
   "I'm gonna fill that little peepee tonight, baby girl...fill it all the
way up..."
   "Nggg!" she protested squirming.  "Nnggg!"
   I smiled and picked up the pliars again to lift another needle from the
burner.
   In my free hand I tweaked her left nipple up pulling it out from her
chest.  She didn't even have titties yet - just little brown nubs.  I
pinched it tightly and brought the hot needle up to it.
   "But before I fill little Melanie she's got to suffer for me.  Yes she
does. Suffer like the little babyslut that she is..."
   I stabbed the needle into her watching her screech, her lips unable to
open, blood dripping from the needles sealing her mouth as her head rocked
backward.
   "Mmmm - yeahh - that's right - you're a little babyslut - aren't you?"
   I picked up another needle.
   " - aren't you, sweetheart -"
   And I drove it in next to the first one still pinching her nipple and
tugging it out from her chest.
   "Whatsa matter?  Can't answer the question?  Those needles in your lips
make it hard for you to talk?  Maybe I should just cut off your little
nipple?  Huh?  What do you think, babyface?  Just cut it clean off..."
   She shook her head wildly, her blonde hair flailing, desperate sounds in
her throat.
   "No?  Are you saying no, don't cut off my little nubby-boo -" is that
what you're saying?"
   She screeched louder, blood oozing from her pierced-shut lips, her feet
kicking against my knees.  I picked up another needle -
   "Ok.  We won't cut it off just yet."
   - and thrust it into the tender meat of her stretched tittie.
   I pinched her other nipple, twisting it upward, picking up another
needle with the pliars.
   "We'll just burn it all up for now..."
   She tensed as I pushed the sizzling needle into fresh meat and she
almost slipped off the table, her legs beating wildly against my shins like
the wings of a trapped dove, her scream trapped in her throat.
   "Whoa!  Whoa!  Whoa!" I told her as she bucked wildly against the ropes.
"There's lots more for you to take.  Lots more comin'.  So don't go crazy
yet."
   I picked up another needle and crushed her nipple between my fingers as
I rammed the hot metal through the pinched-up flesh of her chest.
   "Ohh yeah, you little mouse - lots and lots and lots more for you
tonight..."
   She stiffened and stretched and keened and rocked and I smiled and
picked up another pin and stabbed it through her.
   "Now I need to get to that sweet little peepee..." I said softly going
down on one knee to untie her ankles.
   She sat there trembling visibly on the very edge of the table, her
blindfolded head tilted slightly to the right, the choke rope around her
neck, her arms pulled back to whipping post behind her, her little feet no
longer bleeding but slightly swollen and puffy, and she sobbed endearingly,
her little shoulders rising and falling with each spasm of pain.  I licked
her kneecaps and kissed them and I licked all the way down her shins to the
tops of her roped feet as she quivered to my touch.  Gripping her feet by
the bound ankles I lifted them up to my face to lick and kiss the gashed
soles the tabasco spicing up the warm rust flavor of her blood.
   I unbound her ankles and left her hanging there while I went to the
cabinet.
   Her duct-tape-blindfolded head hung down, long blonde hair between her
pale thighs, the small red tattered piece of t-shirt cloth still clinging
to her shoulder.
   For a few moments I stood there just observing her, taking in her
suffering and her fear, her sweet vulnerability , then I returned with the
steel spreader bar and I slipped her rope-marked ankles into the adjustable
leather cuffs which I'd had adapted to the thin limbs of my child victims.
I pulled the cuff-straps tightly snug and slowly I hoisted her legs up, her
hashed footsoles now exposed and offered, her body twisting painfully as
her punished limbs rose higher.  She began to make frantic sounds of pain
in her throat.
   "Just a little higher, babyface - just a little - bit - higher -"
   When I was finished her feet were almost level with her shoulders and
she was crying loudly, the ragged t-shirt sleeve now down on her wrist. 
Any higher and I probably would have snapped her spine and I didn't want to
inflict such serious damage at such an early stage so I tied off the pulley
line and went back to her,
   Again I went down on one knee in front of her peeled the glove off my
right hand and pried her pink babypussy lips open with my fingers leaning
in to scoop my tongue up and down her small glistening slit.
   She bounced and quivered, muscles tightening and flexing on the backs of
her slender coltish legs in response to the unfamiliar sensations my tongue
was provoking.
   "Mmmm - tastes so yummy...  sweet baby peepee...mmmm...  This little
peepee is going to have to hurt for me before I fuck it.  I'm gonna put
some pins in it, like I did with your little titties.  How about that,
babyface?  Huh? Would you like that?  Would you like to feel your little
puss all on fire?"
   She shook her head and whinnied and tried to pull her thighs closed but
the spreader bar and the strangling rope held her in place and I reached
down and picked up the first needle.
   Holding the pliars with the needle in my left hand I raised my right
hand and ever so slowly I thrust the third finger into her little
cooze-hole.  She was dry inside but as I began to move my finger slowly in
and out, finger-fucking her, she began to lubricate involuntarily.
   "MMM...yess...get that little baby peepee all wet...so nice and
warm...so tight...get it nice and wet so I can punish it..."
   When my finger was all slimy I pulled it out and took her small labia,
pink and fragile as a rose petal and pried it back.  Then bringing the hot
steel needle to the stretched meat I drove the sizzling metal sliver into
her nailing her cunt-lip to the inside of her right thigh.
   She spasmed fitfully and shrieked with all the energy she could muster.
   Again I pushed my finger into her and with each frenzied jolt of her
body and each vocalization of pain I felt her little cunt clench against my
digit.
   "Hurt, you little fuck," I growled.  "Hurt for me."
   Her hands, trapped behind her, curled into fists and I knew that the
frustration of not being able to open her mouth for a wide-screamed
release, as well as the inability to see what was happening next was taking
a steep psychological toll on my preteen victim.  I needed it to.  I needed
to break my little blindfolded, needle-gagged angel in every way possible.
I wanted nothing less than the complete destruction of this beautiful
blonde child - and I was going to get it.
   Still working her little twat I reached down for the next pin.
   I stabbed and nailed her other cunt lip to the left thigh and thrust my
finger back into her twitching pussy as she howled mutedly.
   Going down on one knee I licked at my finger as it entered and exited
her.
   I took it out and rubbed it on my aching prick leaving her shiny juice
on my erection, thrusting my finger in again and deeper, taking it out to
lap at her hungrily.  Then I rose and thrust two more pins on each of her
spread-open cunt-lips pushing the needles deep into thigh-muscle making my
little blonde baby bitch screech and jerk around and bounce noisily on the
table edge.
   Leaning forward I licked at her needle-sealed mouth; her lips were now
purple and swollen.
   I smiled hatefully at her blindfolded tortured face and picked up
another needle with the pliars.
   "Little Melanie's peepee is nailed wide open," I told her, speaking
softly into her needle-studded ear.  "Shall we see what it feels like to
burn the inside of it... hmmm?"
   She shook her head weakly.
   "Rgggmmm!  Onnn err mmm!  Onn err mm -gghhzzz!"
   "I don't know what you're trying to say, dummy...ohh, maybe you're
telling me to go ahead - to go ahead and put the needle deep inside your
little peepee..."
   She shook her head more vigorously and clenched and unclenched her hands
and tugged on the ropes.
   "Onnn - onnnn - onnnn!  ggghhzzz!"
   "Yeah - sure - I know that's what you're telling me - I know its what
you want - and what you deserve - you little slut - and that's just what
you're gonna get..."
   Again I went down on one knee and holding the smoking needle in the
pliars I began to poke her red swollen vulva with it.
   The torture of the child's sexual organ was sending quivers of pleasure
all through me and I slow-stroked my prick while I did it.
   "Yes - mmm - scream, baby - mmmm - how about this little part right
here? Ohhh yess...that's a sensitive spot...here's some more right there.
Uhhh - look at the little drops of blood in Melanie's pussy - You know I'm
looking right into you, right inside you - right into your sweet little
peepee - wow - so pretty - how about this little spot here?  Mmmmhh - yeahh
- scream your little head off, bitch.  Ohh and this part here - this is
where your peepee comes out when you go to the bathroom - uhhh - burn it up
for you, you little whore...I'm going in deeper - way down in there now -
ohhh yeahh!  You like that don't you?  Way down inside you - Uhh - take it
- take what I give you, you little fuck - yeah, move to it - dance to it -
little bitch.  Don't you fuckin' pass out on me.  You just keep feeling it.
Here.  And here. And here.  And here.  And here.  Yeaahhh...  Shit -
Smoke's comin' up out of you, Melanie...  I know you can't see but it looks
real nice."
   With a hard thrust I sank the needle into her pussy mound and thrust my
finger back into her punished hole.  When I took it out it was covered with
slimy blood.
   I rose again.
   My face close to hers.
   I could feel her breath on my cheeks.
   Tears streamed from the edge of the duct tape.
   Her face was flushed red.
   "More?" I asked softly.
   " -ghuhhh - ghuuu - ghuuu - ghuu - ghuuu -"
   She kept grunting that same sound over and over as I picked up the next
needle.
   "Ok," I told her.  "I'll give you more.  No problem."
   "Ghuuu!  Ghuuu!  Ghuuu!"
   I slid down again - lifted the pliars with the needle to her pinned back
babytwat.
   "What Melanie wants - Melanie gets -"
   Soon I had her shrieking again.  I stabbed and prodded at her twat and
at her little asshole and at her thighs with the pin before burying it in
her little mons.
   I continued the slow-paced merciless torture on my child victim giving
her three more pins before she passed out.  Then I got the sodium nitrate
vial from the cabinet and held it to her needle-pierced nostrils bringing
her around.  I waited for her to be fully conscious before putting ten more
pins in her chubby mound and inflicting hundreds of small pin-sized wounds
all over her sex organ and anus.  She pissed herself again and wailed and I
just smiled and kept on for nearly an hour and a half.  After thirty more
pins in her cunt and thighs my attention returned to her little slashed-up
feet.
   I knew soon I would have to rape and sodomize Melanie because my cock
was nearly bursting with the need of it but I maintained my pacing and my
control, something I'd learned to do after years of torturing and
destroying children. The more in control I was the bigger the orgasmic
payoff would be in the end.
   Now I needed my victim immersed in horrible, nearly undendurable pain.
   Peeling off the other glove I took a salt-filled shaker and shook salt
into my hands.
   Stepping up to her I lifted my hands to her whip-torn feet and began to
massage the salt into the tabasco-soaked, ripped-apart soles.
   "GHuuWHHH!  GHUWWWHH!" she wailed.
   I smiled.
   Kept rubbing.
   "Whuuhh!  Whuuhhh!  WHUUHHH!"
   I sprinkled more salt right on her feet - rubbing it in hard.
   My prick was sooo fuckin' big now - so fuckin' big -
   It arched high, almost up against my belly.
   "How's that feel, bitch?" I snarled.  "How's that feel on your little
feet?  Huh? Feel good?  You like it?  Huh?  Stupid little cockteaser.  How
about some on your scummy little twat?"
   I took the cover off the salt shaker and spilled the remaining contents
right on her needle-ridden baby-cooze tossing the container aside to rub
and grind the salt into her moist punished blood-streaked meat.
   She jerked her head back and made distorted noises in her throat as the
burning sensations flooded her.  She shook violently and her arms snapped
tautly against the creaking unyielding ropes.
   I reached up and yanked the needles out of her lips.
   I wanted to hear her scream her guts out.
   I rubbed the salt into her gaping lips as into the small needle wounds.
   She didn't disappoint me letting out several ear-shattering howls.
   In the pliars I took up the first of twenty remaining needles.
   Grabbing the spreader bar to keep her from moving her legs away I
brought the sizzling metal to the big toe of her right foot and pushed the
needle up under the toe-nail, all the way in, as deep as I could.
   "Take it," I snarled.
   "Aiiiiieeeeee!" she screamed.
   Duct-tape blindfolded suffering angel.
   "Like that?  Huh?  Do you fuckin' like it, you little weaselfuck?"
   "N-Nahhh!  n-no more - no more - no more -"
   "No more, my ass, bitch."
   I picked up another needle and stabbed it under the nail of her left
toe.
   Then while she screamed and pled raucously I put needles under every one
of her green-painted toenails.  When that was done I put a needle right
through each toe, watching the blood spurt from her punished limbs, gouging
right through each digit, impaling it forcefully, stopping between each
stab to massage my salt- caked hands into the torn soles of her feet and
into her hot dribbling pussyslit.
   At the end of all that her little feet sprouted metal slivers, little
spikes of pain as she shook and sobbed and bled for me.  Her cunt and
titties were studded and swollen.  Little Melanie was a fucking mess,
physically and psychologically.
   She was ready to become a rape victim.
   With one quick move I ripped the duct tape blindfold from her face and
she gave out a startled little cry.  She blinked, her eyes suddenly stung
by the halogen lamp-light as I untied her wrists and released the neck rope
from the overhead chain.  The torn sleeve of her red t-shirt, the last
clinging remnant of her clothing slid free and fluttered to the floor.  She
slumped and lay on her side on the table crying softly, drawing her hands
up to her face, her needle-studded feet still held high on the cuffs of the
spreader bar.
   One by one I began to remove each small painshaft I'd put in my little
toture- cherub, beginning with the ones in her cute ears, making her scream
with fresh suffering, blood spurting out on the table from each uncapped
wound.  I yanked out the ones in her titties and then the ones in her
salt-sprinkled muff.
   I saved her feet for last and went about the yanking out of those
needles with slow-paced sadism, relishing each and every cry and each and
every twist and jerk of her punished body - twenty opportunities to inflict
severe hurt on Melanie Babytwat Johnston, to prepare her for the brutal
lovemaking that was to come.
   I released her from the spreader bar and lifted her up effortlessly in
my arms to carry her upstairs.  She did not struggle.  All resistance had
been drained from her.  She was weak and almost catatonic - completely
submissive - moaning weakly.
   As I passed the glass sliding door I looked out into the falling snow.
My yard was almost completely blanketed.  Crystal flakes swirled about
outside catching reflections from the street sodium lamps outside the
garden walls and from the single reflector on the rear of my house.  As I
watched it began to fall in thicker clumps.
   "Look, Melanie," I whispered tilting my head down over her.  "Look how
pretty."
   She lifted her frightened blue eyes to the snow.
   I could see the downward motion of the flakes in them.
   " - s - snowing -" she muttered.
   I pressed my lips to her forehead and licked her eyebrows.
   I carried her upstairs to the bedroom, pulled the quilt from my bed and
laid her down gently on the white sheets in the darkness.
   Moving across the room I pulled the drapes open and the soft glow from
outside bathed the room in an eerie half-light.  The snowflakes floated in
the air and stroked against the wet glass of the window pane.
   I turned and walked purposefully back to the bed and climbing up on the
mattress to hover over my tortured angel on all fours, predatorially.
   "Do you think that I'm a bad man, Melanie?"
   She had drawn the thumb of her right hand up to her wounded lips and was
sucking on it.
   Her eyes were sad and lost.
   I could see the reddish blackened pock-marks the burning needles had
left on her face, on the bridge of her pert little nose and on her lips and
ears.
   "Do you think that I'm a bad man?"
   Tears brimmed in her eyes.
   "H-hurt -" she whimpered.  "Y-you h-hurt me."
   I pulled her hand gently away from her face and pulled both her arms up
over her head gripping her frail rope-marked wrists, leaning down closer.
The smell of her was intoxicating.
   "Yes, I did.  Now, answer my question."
   "-y-yess -" she breathed.
   I smiled.
   "Good answer.  I'm glad you didn't lie to me.  You should always always
tell the truth...Do you want me to hurt you some more?"
   "No - please don't -"
   "Well, I am," I told her.  "I'm gonna hurt you all night long - until
you can't stand it anymore.  And tomorrow as well.  There's nothing but
pain and suffering ahead for little Melanie."
   She bit her lip and whined staring up at me.
   "Spread your legs open.....do it now or I'll take you back to the
torture room."
   Slowly she obeyed.
   I let go of her arms and rose up on my knees between her legs moving my
hands down her body.
   "I told you I was going to fill your peepee didn't I?"
   She lay there quietly, still looking up at me.
   Out of the corner of my eye I could see the snow pattering against the
window.
   "Didn't I?"
   She nodded, lips downturned.
   I lifted her legs up and drew them back, her bloody little feet pointed
at the ceiling as I licked my lips and positioned myself, my hot erection
at the needle-and- salt tortured meat of my nine year old victim's
babytwat.
   "Well that's just what I'm going to do, Melanie.  I'm going to fill your
stinking little peepee.  I'm gonna fuck you until you can't move.  Until
you can't think.  Until all you can feel is me.  Me inside you.  Me in your
body and in your head.  Ready?"
   She whined something unintelligible but by then I was already thrusting
slowly and unstoppably into her.
   It was cool in the room but our bodies were hot.
   She began to scream out her hurt almost immediately, her little hands
grabbing the sheets on either side of her body as I broke through her
hymen.
   The clock on the nightstand said 1:30.
   A night of brutal love lay ahead for me and my babytwat angel.
   A snowy magic night of cruel hard blood-drawing love.
   5. Rapefucking a child like Melanie after torturing her is every
sadist's most fervent wish - it was certainly mine - pounding the little
angel into the mattress, slapping her, punching her, strangling her while I
fucked her.  Girls are the nicest for me.  Much nicer than my cunt-boys -
or different anyway.  I mean, cunt-boys can be real nice too, specially
when they hold their little buttcheeks open with their hands for my big
meat to sink deep into their shitchutes, crying like stuck pigs on the end
of a roasting spit.  But Melanie was special.  Unique.  One of a kind.  So
undeserving and so incredibly vulnerable.
   I hadn't had one that perfect in a while and I was gonna make er last as
long as possible.
   Her needle-tortured babymuff was tighter than I'd imagined...  one of
the tightest I'd ever had, squeezing impressively against the unforgiving
hardness I rammed into her.  Forcing my way into her was, as always with
such a victim, infinitely and undescribably pleasurable.  There is such
sheer enjoyment for me in taking what is not meant to be taken, what is
sacredly protected by every law and every conventional human instinct. 
Look at the way mothers hover protectively near their children in crowds -
I'm thinking here of those SUV driving, suburban moms who just a few years
before were losing their virginity in the back of a pickup truck or in a
motel room hopped up on pot or drunk on too many Budweisers and tequila
chasers.  I hate those bitches more thoroughly than any other creature on
the face of this planet and killing their little sweethearts is a profound
poetic justice for me, a crude spear-thrust into the mediocre
conventionality such women foster and engender and protect like Martha
Stewart cats with their little claws out.  I had seen Melanie's mom only
briefly coming out of a Bed, Bathroom and Beyond in the mall when I'd been
doing my investigations into the family.  She definitely filled the bill,
walking out into the cold gray afternoon in her jeans and boots and L.L. 
Bean winter jacket with fur-lined lapels, bitchfaced, dark sunglasses
obscuring her eyes, mouth drawn in a straight unspeaking line, little
Melanie in tow.  I'd kept my distance not wanting Melanie to recognize me
as the actor guy she'd seen in the hotel by the indoor pool and I knew
watching mom and daughter walk into the parking lot that it would be an
immense pleasure for me to plunge into the little nine year old as I was
doing now in the protective shelter of my house, the snow quietly draping
the world white.  Torturing and raping Melanie was not just pleasurable on
its own merits, it was also a way to inflict mortal sorrow and loss on her
stinking suburban bitch mom.  She would probably end up owning that hotel
when the divorce was through but what good would it do her?  Her world
would be empty without her little baby.  Grief would poison her and
suffocate her.
   For now I focused on the thrill of the rape.  The little one squirmed
and kicked to no avail under me.  I was halfway up her already and her
little slashed heels nudged against my sides as I pushed in further.  I
lunged greedily down into her watching the pain twist her pretty little
face, her head moving from side to side as she pleaded with me.  The
mattress squeaked rythmically to my thrusting hips and she took my weight,
her babycunt stretched to its limit.  I slapped her tormented face and
punched her belly randomly as I worked myself in deeper and after a while
blood ebbed from her quivering needle-pierced lips.
   I rolled over on my back and held her on top of me, impaled on me,
crying. I had her by her wrists and I made her ride me, up and down, as she
squealed in pain.  She was such a lovely little thing, my tortured tot
Melanie, silouhetted against the backdrop of the snow falling outside the
window.  I gave her what no one else could or would - agony and suffering
of an intensity no child that age should have to bear.  I made her my
little fuckbitch, my baby whore.  I drew her down and kissed her obscenely
and shoved my tongue in her mouth and licked her.  She tried to pull away
in disgust and terror but I held her easily, choking her, strangling her
while I fucked her.  I slapped her and called her ugly names and looked
into the flickering azure of her eyes in the shadowy light trying to look
right into the innocent soul I was decimating.
   Eventually, she surrendered herself to me and no longer pleaded or tried
to move away.  It was to be expected.  Overwhelming physical force has that
effect. That's why children are my favorite prey.  They give up so much
quicker and make things so much easier.  When that surrender from my victim
comes it is as if a floodgate opens inside me.  The sexual energy becomes
demonic.  I pounded frenetically into her, slamfucked her, rolling over to
get on top of her and give it to my little bitch with all I could muster.
   I slid out of her, my cock covered with blood, only get her on all fours
and push invincibly into her little anus...talk about tight....talk about
screams...  Without pulling out of her I reached into the drawer on the
nightstand and got the leather belt.  I began to whip her back with the
steel-buckle end, up on my knees, my cock halfway up her bunghole.  She
twisted and turned and I shouted at her to be still, to take it, and her
hands reached up and took the bars of the brass headpost as she squealed
into the sheets...again she surrendered...my belt thudding into her smooth
skin, leaving burning smear-lines of heat and pain.  I whipped and
sodomized her for a while then I wrapped the belt around her neck and
strangled the breath from her pushing in to the hilt in tight hot sleeve of
her shitchute.  When I felt her start to go limp on me I released the
pressure on the belt - whipped her again, fiercely - then strangled her
some more when she began to struggle.
   Now aroused, sadistically inspired beyond all my expectations, I tossed
the belt aside and pulled out of my victim rolling her back over on her
back to look down into her angelic face, all flushed and disconcerted.  I
crawled up the bed until my balls hung over her dazed eyes.
   "Lick me, Melanie," I snarl-whispered hoarsely crouching over her, my
feet on either side of her head.  Brown faeces and childblood smeared my
erect shaft. "Lick me all clean."
   I took her by her needle-pierced ears and lifted her head to my cock and
she moaned weakly but obeyed, clumsily and erratically, but pleasingly
nonetheless, her pink tongue darting out and lapping against my hot
manspear.  I made her lick my balls and my asshole and the insides of my
thighs guiding her where I wanted her, pulling her by her long blonde hair.
   "That's a good little bunny - mmmm - yesss - push your tongue up into my
hole - ahh - harder - now, here, mmm, on my balls sweetie - yeahh - ohh
yeahh - suck on them - thaat's it!  You little scumbag.  Yeahhh - keep it
nice and hard for me - lick my peepee - up and down - around the tip. 
Good. Very nice, Melanie. Very very nice.  I'm gonna put it back inside you
now.  As far up inside you as I can put it.  Roll over on your belly like a
good little worm....good.  Up on your knees, honey - get your little ass up
for me - ahh ye-yeahh that's nice."
   I scooted back down the bed and picked up the belt.
   "Stay like that.  I'm gonna whip you before I fuck you again, ok?"
   She whined into the sheets.
   I got up off the bed and stood over her, the belt dagling from my hand.
   "Don't fuckin' move," I ordered gruffly.
   I began to stroke myself slowly with my left hand as I raised the belt
feeling intensely alive as I swung the heavy leather strap again
buckle-first across the kneeling child's buttcheeks.  The heavy strap
whooshed loudly in the dark room and she flinched and screeched as it
thudded into her but held her ground through five more sharp cuts before
collapsing to the bed.
   "Up!" I shouted at her.  "Get that little ass up there, you little
fuckk!"
   She obeyed burying her head between the pillows to sob-scream her baby
heart out while I drew the belt back and forth, left to right, right to
left across the pale flesh, painting dark purple-crimson welts visible even
in the half light of the bedroom.  After ten blows she scampered suddenly
off the bed and ran toward the door.  I grabbed her by her arm and swung
her effortlessly around to toss her back on to the mattress, shouting at
her to get back into position.  Crying fitfully she again knelt, bent
forward, her head in the pillows.  Such an obedient child.  Without giving
her time to prepare herself for the new onslaught I whipped her heartlessly
across her asscheeks and her lower back and the backs of her small thighs,
giving her twenty merciless strokes, then kneeling up on the bed behind her
and tossing the belt aside again I grabbed her by her hips and pushed my
cock into her tight little angel-ass.
   Now I fucked her with unchecked brutality, looking down on her to enjoy
the fierce welts and the slashed and swollen appearance of her little
foot-soles on either side of my knees.  I felt the oncoming orgasm begin
deep in my balls - the flesh around my anus still cool from her licking -
skin drawn tight as a snare drum - and vibrate all through me and holding
her tight against me I hilted myself in her shithole and clutched tightly
on to her as I began to cum.
   "Ahhhh goddamnn fuckkkingg bbittchhhh!" I shouted as I pumped jets of
hot sperm up my babyslave's ass.  My hands moved up to her shoulders as I
leaned down into her to give her the full load sneer-smiling with mind
blasting relief.  "Yeahhhh - yeahhhhh -" I growled as she sobbed and panted
for breath trying to accomodate the impossibly sized intrusion of my
man-sized sex organ in her rectal tract, suffocated under my weight.
   When I was finished I didn't pull out of her - I allowed my erection to
subside until my flaccid penis simply slid from her tight rectum all glossy
with cumjuice which spilled in thick gobs from her and on to the bedsheets,
then I rolled her toward me and pulled the quilt over us, hugging her then
holding her lovely crying face between my hands.
   "Who do you belong to?" I asked softly.
   She looked up at me, snowflakes drifting, wet reflection in her irises.
   "Y-you - you -"
   "That's right.  Me and no one else.  Say it."
   "Y-you an-and no one - no one else."
   "You're my little fuck-pig."
   My hands slid down to wrap around her small neck.
   I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the pillow behind me as I
strangled her with just enough force to make her work for her breath.
   "Say it for me, sweetheart - tell me what you are."
   I gripped her a little harder.  Her little hands came up to hold my
wrists.
   "Y-ggg - your - lit-little - ggghh - fuh - fuh - fuh - fuckp-pig -"
   The sound of such an obscenity on her innocent lips was profoundly
magical.
   "That's right - and you know what little fuckpigs do for their masters?"
   I sensed her shaking her head, her disheveled blonde mane caressing my
strangling hands, her little fingers pressing into my wrists.
   "They give their all, Melanie.  Everything.  Their life.  Their little
bodies and their little souls and their blood and their little peepees -
everything to their masters."
   I opened my eyes to look at her again as I squeezed her neck
incrementally increasing the pressure.
   Her face was marred and bruised from the needle-torture and from my
slapping, her left eye already visibly swollen.
   "And I am your Master, Melanie.  I own you now.  Your little life is
mine for the taking."
   My words spoken softly in the quiet bedroom shadows had a devastating
psychological effect on her, exactly as I intended.  Not just physical
punishment but mental anguish.
   "You're going to die for me tomorrow, Melanie," I told her.  "For me and
my friend Ray.  You're going to die for our pleasure."
   I smiled, tipped my head back and squeezed her throat harder.
   My cock was already tingling and almost all the way erect again.
   "Wrap your legs around my hips, honey," I told her.
   She obeyed weakly, struggling to breathe, tears quietly pouring from her
eyes, which close up were stunningly beautiful.
   "Reach down and put my peepee against yours."
   Her hands moved under the quilt, her teary eyes never leaving mine.
   She accomodated herself against me and did as I ordered her babypussy
warmly wet against the head of my shaft which was still slimy with cum.
   "Tell me what you are, Melanie," I prompted gently, squeezing her
throat.
   " gghhh - your l-little - ugh - fuck - pig -"
   "Very good.  You remembered.  You're such a smart little girl, aren't
you? Push yourself against me...your peepee...slowly...slow...that's a good
little fuckpig - mmm - push harder - until it goes in - yes - yess - that's
nice - push, Melanie - push....now move your hips back and forth - work
yourself in and out on me - ahhh - you sweet smart little fuckkk -"
   Her mouth was wide open now as she groaned and gasped for air.
   "Please me, little fuckpig - please me - please me -"
   My hands moved off her neck and down her backside.  I felt the hot
blood- ridges on her skin from the welts my belt had left on her as I
grabbed her ass to push into her and smear my lips on hers, tonguing the
needle wounds on her pouty little mouth and on her cheeks, rolling her on
to her back under me.
   "Give me your hands," I snarled and she brought them up to my face and i
bit them, hard, bit her little fingers and wrists and forearms.  I spat in
her mouth and on her face and worked myself up again, humping her under the
quilt, her small body crushed under mine.
   I fucked her like that for a long while, until the heat generated by our
bodies under the quilt was unbearable then I slid out of her, took her by
her ankle and swept her off the bed flinging her to the carpeted floor by
the window, standing over my sobbing defeated captive, jerking off slowly,
my foot on her neck keeping her down, keeping her from crawling away. 
Droplets of blood and cum snaked from her violated sexhole and anus which
were splotched crimson and swollen. I had tortured that little angelpussy
and fucked it hard.  I'd sodomized that little asshole brutally.  Now I
needed more from my little fuckpig and I slid down on one knee over her.
   "Get on your back," I told her bluntly.  "And lift those little legs up
and hold them open for me...that's right...wide open...wider,
fuckpig...hold them at the knees... just like that...now lick my fingers...
get them nice and wet...  look up at the window...see how pretty the snow
is?  Just keep looking at it and don't fucking move no matter what,
understand?"
   She nodded weakly and did as I ordered craning her head back to look up
at the pane of glass as the snowflakes struck silently against it.
   I traced the line of her punished pussy-slit with one wet finger and
then gently pushed the digit into her sexhole, working it in and out for a
while before pushing in the second finger.  I spat on her needle-and-salt
tortured babysex and I pushed in the third finger to work her like that for
a bit seeing the lines of discomfort appear on her innocent features.  The
intrusion of the fourth finger caused her to moan pitifully but her eyes
continued to look up at the window above us.  Gradually but forcefully I
pushed my hand into her up to the knuckles, my thumb still outside of the
circumference of her vise-grip-tight vulva.
   She made a grunting sound and bit her lip.
   I shushed her and told her I wanted no sound from her.  None whatsoever.
   I wasn't sure if her tiny babycunt could accomodate my fist but I was
sure as hell gonna give it a good try.
   "Spread your legs wider, honey," I told her.  "C'mon - wider - I'm gonna
put my whole hand up you..."
   She did so, her slashed feet slithering apart on the carpet.
   I leaned over her to put some weight behind my arm and I shoved my
fisted hand now into the suffering childcunt.  The edges of her vagina tore
visibly and blood spewed against my knuckles and fingers.  She whimpered
and clung to her knees tightly.
   I had fist-fucked my victims before but Melanie was possibly the
youngest and tightest I'd ever punished this way and I had to stroke my
cock with my free hand as the manly pleasure of sadistic conquest filled
me. The sensation of her warm, wet, bleeding pussy-sleeve all around my
hand, gripping me, was extremely arousing.
   "You like that, fuckpig?  Huh?  Like my fist all the way up you?"
   She shook her head silently, eyes glassy as she continued to stare up at
the snow on the window but her whole body was trembling now.
   "You don't?  Well, too fuckin' bad....too fuckin' bad for you..."
   I began to work my big fist now deeper, in and back out slightly, not
withdrawing it but fucking her with it.
   She made an odd mewling sound in her throat.
   "I told you to keep quiet, fuckpig."
   She stifled herself and wickedly I worked my fist in and out faster.
   I wanted her to scream, to sob, to plead...this was the same mind-game I
played with my cunt-boys...the silence game...one that a victim could never
win....my kind of game...
   "Maybe I'll stick my other hand in you as well..." I suggested watching
her silent suffering face.  "Or my foot - how about that?  My foot all the
way up your guts you stinking little weasel..."
   Then horror and pain overwhelmed her and she began to squeal mindlessly
and her legs slammed together tightly.
   I continued to fist-fuck her, slamming her little pussy with no
compassion, reaching up to hold my frenetic captive against the floor by
her neck, choking her, until I was up to my wrist in her little twat then
yanking my hand out of her to see her curl up into a fetal position as I
released her and stood over her watching her complete hysterical breakdown.
   Leaning down I grabbed her by her long hair and dragged her across the
floor toward the door.
   "Alright," I shouted at her.  "You couldn't keep quiet for me so we're
going back down into the basement."
   "Noo!  Nooo!  Pleeeeze!" she shrieked wildly, kicking her legs, her
hands reaching up to mine as it clutched her hair.  "I be good girl - good
girl -"
   She hooked her feet under the bedpost but I tugged her free and hauled
her out into the hallway.
   "I bee good little fuckpig - pleeze?  - just like you want -"
   I yanked her up on her knees, still holding her by the hair.
   "Too fuckin' late, bitch," I growled and drawing my leg up I kicked her
in the chest and sent her flying down the stairs, rolling over and over
down the steps, screaming mindlessly until she thumped against the wall at
the ground floor landing.  She lay there stunned, sitting on the floor as I
came down, grabbed her by the hair again and dragged her toward the
basement door.  The fall had knocked the air out of her and she wheezed and
gasped.  At the basement door I again drew her up on her knees at the edge
of the steps, this time simply flinging her down.  She gave out a stifled
little sob and rolled down the concrete steps and thumped to a stop, blood
dribbling from her lips and from her cunt.
   I sauntered calmly down after her reaching down for her hair once more
to drag her across the cold concrete floor and to the center of the room.
   I was in a very ugly mood now, intensely aroused.
   Melanie lay where I left her crumpled up and bleeding, nearly
unconscious.
   I lifted her legs up one at a time to dangling chains, cuffing her by
the ankles and pulling her up off the ground so that she hung upside down
for me, high enough off the floor that her head was level with my cock.  I
rubbed my organ all over her punished face and made her lick me and suck
me, made my poor little fuckpig work me up good.
   Leaving her hanging there I filled a tea-pot with water in the bathroom
and put it on the hotplate.  As the water heated up to a boil I went to the
closet and drew out the rack of votive candles I'd bought two years before
at a garage sale. There were twenty vessels, four rows of five red glasses,
each containing one candle.  I lit them all and let them burn the smell of
wax filling the air.
   While I waited for the teapot to whistle I strode up to Melanie and
thrust my cock in her face again and made her lick my balls and suck me and
lick me while I roped her wrists to her upper thighs.  In the bright glow
of the basement halogen lamps I could study the damage I'd done to the
child as she hung from the chains upside down, her blonde hair flowing down
teasingly against my thighs and knees.  I spread my legs apart and grabbed
her by the back of her skull to lift her head up under the arc of my
thighs, to push my asshole against her gouged lips, making her lick me,
telling her what a little piece of shit she was and how I was gonna make
her pay for disobeying me, working myself up to a rage.  The marks of my
punishments were all over her.  Her pussy and asshole bled from the sodomy
and fistfucking, the tender skin bruised and chafed and dotted with needle
wounds.  The belt buckle had left dark crimson-blue welts where it had
struck her on her back and asscheeks and legs and there were darker bruises
in her chest, possibly a broken rib or two from the falls down the stairs.
   When the teapot began to whistle shrilly, Melanie moaned weakly, looking
around, dazed.  I moved to the cabinet and picked up another vial of sodium
nitrate to snap it open and wave it against her nose, reviving her fully
for the suffering what lay ahead.  I wanted her fully conscious for that -
fully awake.
   Donning my work gloves once more, I took two enema bags from the
cabinet.
   Long white plastic hoses dangled from each bag.  They were old-fashioned
enema bags that I'd also customized, the white nozzles on the end of the
hoses with tiny metal spikes, just like the ones I'd put on the end of the
riding crop I'd used on my babytwat's feet.  I shut off the hotplate,
filled the enema bags with boiling water from the smouldering teapot, and
suspended them from hooks in the ceiling over the dangling child.
   Taking the nozzle on the end of one of the enema hoses I brought it up
to Melanie's anal aperture.
   Wordlessly I pushed it into her.
   The barbs tore their way into my blonde baby making her shriek wildly
and kick her legs pointlessly against the cuff-chains.
   When I'd lodged the nozzle deep inside her I sprung the metal clip which
pinched the hose allowing the boiling water to pour into the hanging
child's bowels.
   I closed my eyes to enjoy her screeching agony.
   Then, as that enema bag emptied into her, I lifted the other nozzle and
pushed it against her babytwat, peeling the swollen needle-wounded lips
back to find her piss-hole.  Viciously I pushed the barbed plastic into her
urethra as she wailed, hilting it in her, reaching back to unclip the hose
and let boiling water flood into her bladder.
   Again I stepped back, closing my eyes, tipping my head back, stroking
myself slowly as Melanie's shrill-toned screams of unbridled agony
reverberated loudly in the torture chamber and all through me, exciting me
beyond all reason.
   While she hung there squirming and squealing, her bound hands clenching
and unclenching against her hips I pulled the votive candle rack up next to
her.
   When the enema bags were empty I tore the nozzles out of her bleeding
apertures and before she could instinctively expel the burning fluid that
now swelled out her guts I poured four glasses of molten wax into each of
her violated bloody openings sealing up my hysterically keening victim,
stuffing her up so that she would be forced to hold the enema contents
painfully inside her, pushing the wax into her with my gloved fingers as it
cooled and congealed, to pour more and more of it into her.  I went down on
one knee and grabbing her by the neck and choking her I poured two votive
candle containers full of wax right into her mouth and down her throat
holding her mouth shut until hot viscuous wax dribbled from her nostrils
and she choked and gagged and suffered and kicked and squirmed rattling her
chains in a haze of anguish.
   Then I took the remaining votive candle containers and splashed the hot
wax all over my luckless captive.
   Stepping back and pulling off my gloves I began to stroke myself
rapidly.
   The gruesome torture I'd imposed on the nine year old had driven me well
past the edge and I needed relief.
   I cupped my balls and rubbed the head of my cock against the edges of
her wax-sealed lips and into her wide-staring eyes and against her blonde
skull.
   Reddish wax had spattered her mane and her cheeks.
   The incredible suffering I was inflicting on her was evident in the
expression on her face and I needed to ejaculate on it, to cover that
suffering angelic expression with my cum.
   "Suffer, you little scumbag," I whispered fiercely feeling the first
wave of orgasm about to explode, squeezing my balls hard.  "Suffer - suffer
- suffer - ahh - ahh - bitchhh - uuuh-UHHHHHHH!  Sufferr forr meee! 
uuhhhhhhh!"
   Thick globules of white semen spurted out on her face and on her
shoulders and chest, then a thicker white jet shot out into her eye and
forehead, blinding her and making her squeal and making her toss her head
from side to side.  I pressed my spurting cock against her needle-pierced
nose to flood her nostrils shut with sperm.  Jism bubbled on the end of her
nose as she gasped for air.  I shot the rest of it out against her
needle-wounded nipples and whipped wax-spattered belly and then with a sigh
of relief I lifted my tumescent prick and pissed right into my babygirl's
face, craning my head back to enjoy the moment fully, again closing my
eyes.
   I looked down to see flowing streams of urine slithering into her hair
to drip off it and to the floor making a puddle beneath her.  I grabbed her
head to hold it still so that I could piss into each of her little ears,
swiveling her back and forth to hose urine into each auditory canal.  I
pissed in her eyes and in her nose and finally, when I was finished, I
wiped myself off on her forehead.
   When I was finished I untied her wrists and pulled them up to two
leather cuffs on a spreader bar that hung from the ceiling.  It was time
for her to spend some time alone and in horrible pain, in darkness,
abandoned but I didn't want to leave her dangling upside down because I was
pretty sure that by morning she'd be dead - either from suffocation or from
a busted artery in her brain.  Also, before leaving her there I made sure
her nostrils were clear.  For damn sure she wouldn't be able to open her
mouth.  She would not be able to piss or shit the hot fluids scalding her
guts but I wanted her fully conscious to experience that. I didn't want her
passing out from lack of oxygen.
   "Nighty night," I whispered sardonically in her face.  "Don't let the
bedbugs bite."
   She made a strangled whimpering sound her burned out victimized eyes
following me as I turned and went to the door.
   But the sound she made when I shut off the lights was much more
delightful.
   "Hope you're not afraid of the dark, sweetheart," I said and chuckled
softly, closing the door on her.
   She was still making that high-pitched keening noise when I stepped out
of the basement entrance and closed that door behind me.  That second door
canceled the sound out altogether.
   I stood in silence in the kitchen looking out through the glass into the
snow- covered yard.  My reflection stared back at me, naked and muscular,
eyes dark and cruel, my face stern, unforgiving - it was the unanashamed
face of a brutal child killer.
   The snow was no longer coming down but the wind still picked up flurries
of it and swirled them against the windows.
   The clock in the kitchen said 4:45.
   I needed to get whatever sleep I could because I knew that the following
day would be a strenuous one, pleasure-filled but strenous and taxing on
both my cunt- boy and myself - It would be terminally strenous for the
little dangling angel in the basement.
   I went up to the bedroom and lay back on the disheveled bloody sheets. I
could smell Melanie on the pillows.  I fell asleep under the warmth of the
quilt remembering my little suffering angel's eyes and her cries of pain.
   6.
   How does one become a child killer?
   I can only answer that for myself and not for every psycho out there who
has his or her own morbid and fucked up reasons.
   I'd like to say that child killing is an insanity, some kind of
obsessive compulsive mania but the truth with me is that it is the
expression of my sexuality.  After long internal struggles with my nature
over the years I have come to realize that this is who I am and who I want
to be.  If there is such a thing as meaning or purpose to existence then
torturing and killing little boys and little girls is certainly mine.  I
claimed it and now I own it.
   I have no history of abuse or of any other uncommon brutality directed
at me in childhood.  In fact, my childhood was rather ordinary until I
discovered, sometime around age eight, that inflicting pain on helpless
creatures produced incredible and rebellious pleasure for me.
   I will not go into a history of my activities but suffice it to say that
by the age of seventeen I had drawn human child-blood and developed a
life-long thirst for it.
   Now, as I tug my cunt-boy Ray from the trunk of the car by the leash,
helpless shivering child, to walk him into the house from the carport that
thirst needs quenching.
   He has been quiet and submissive, just the way I've taught him to be and
now as we stand before the sliding door in the kitchen I speak the first
words I have for him this morning.
   "Strip me naked, boy - and then get down on your knees in front of me
and service me."
   "Yes, sir," he says softly and obeys my instructions, still shivering
from the trip from the city, nude and bound in the trunk of my car.
   I let him unbutton my jacket and take it off.  He takes off my sweater
and my shirt next folding them neatly and putting them on the table.  He
then crouches down to undo the laces on my boots and peel them off my feet,
then my socks, and then, kneeling he unbuckles my belt and pulls down my
pants.  I watch him rise to drape those over the back of the dining set
chair.  His wrists and ankles are blushing red from the tight ropes that
held him hogtied in the dark trunk of my car and a red band is visible on
his cheeks from the ball-gag strap.  Again, graceful as a gazelle, he goes
down on his knees and gently, adoringly looking up at me, he hooks his
fingers in the waistband of my jockey shorts and pulls them down my legs.
   "I love you, sir,"he whispers, the dogleash dangling from his neck.
   "Yeah, I've heard that before, bitch.  Fill your mouth with me.  Stop
talking about it and show me how me how much you love me."
   He doesn't hesitate.  Still looking up at me with that fawning
expression he leans in and lowers himself to take my half-erect cock in his
pretty lips.  Lovingly he licks my piss-slit and his hands caress my balls.
   "You little cocksucker," I tell him, my voice full of the disgust I feel
for him.
   "You're nothing but a little faggot cocksucker."
   I look down on my little arab and see faint traces of the punishment of
two weeks before, welt lines left by the braided electrical cord across his
lower back and ass, small fading bruises left by the hard plastic plugs,
tiny healing wounds on his balls and dick from the pins.
   "What did you tell momma, faggot?  I know there's no school today
because of the snow."
   He pulled back from my cock to speak.
   "I - I told her I was going to the park with my friends."
   "You have no friends, scumface.  Get your mouth back on my dick."
   He did as I ordered and I let him work me up to a full erection.
   "Squeeze my balls, boy - ahhh - yeahh - that's nice - I've got a
surprise for you in the basement."
   His eyes sparkled mischievously.
   "Yeah," I said.  "That's right.  The little bitch I told you I'd get for
us.  You'll find her a bit used up but still workable - mmm - yeah, keep
sucking - gone with your fuckin' friends to the park, huh?  For what?  A
bit of sledding and snowball fights?  Some fuckin' lame excuse.  You
should've thought up a better one cause you're not going back for a couple
of days."
   The sparkle left his eyes.
   "That's right, scumbag.  You're in for it this time.  We're probably
gonna have to use the kidnapping excuse this time around."
   This was a strategy I rarely resorted to but one which in Ray's case
would now, in my present state of murderous arousal, be unavoidable.  After
using him as far as I could without going all the way with him, I would
leave him in the park and dial 911 from a payphone to have the rescue squad
pick him up.  In all likelihood the little fuck wouldn't be able to walk
anyway.  He probably wouldn't be able to shit right or talk either for a
few weeks.
   I trained all my cunt-boys on this eventuality of this excuse because it
was one step short of extermination.  It was as far as they could be taken
without dying for me.  And sometimes, like now, I needed to take them there
- it was a place they wanted to go although they were not eager to accept
it.
   The story the boys would give the authorities when they were questioned
afterwards would be that two men had taken them at gun point in the park, a
thin black man and a tall mustached white man.  I tutored my cunt-boys on
the description of these fictional assailants and their vehicle, usually
under torture, until the little queers knew what to say and when to say it.
I'd used that setup twice in the past and both times the police had sent
out sketches and APB's based on the bogus descriptions my victims had
given.
   This excuse was usually the last one before the take down.
   Weeks or months later when the boys disappeared for good it was
naturally assumed that the fictional assailants had caught up with them
once again.  As usual, nothing led back to me.
   The last time I'd been in the post office down the street I'd seen the
sketches of these false assailants on the FBI most-wanted poster.  It had
made me smile involuntarily because my victims, the ones I'd personally
buried in Franconia State Park or dropped in Greelie's Pond were mentioned
as missing and last seen in the company of the two imaginary men.
   Now the excuse would be used again.
   I was gonna make little Ray pay dearly for his little adventures with
me.
   "Suck, scumbag -"I told him gripping his little short-haired head.  "Get
me nice and hard before we go down there to see your little girlfriend."
   Fucking little faggot.
   He was in for the ride of his life.
   I made him lick my balls and shove his little fingers up my ass, his
neck leash swinging back and forth between his thighs, then I slapped him a
few times and put him back on my dick, just to reinforce the respect
factor.
   I hauled him up off his knees by the leash and knelt him on a chair and
slammed my needy cock up between his tight buns.
   Then I took him in the bathroom, made him crouch in the tub while I
pissed in his mouth.
   "Drink it, shitface," I told him.  "It might be all you get for the next
two days."
   "Thank you, master," he replied, his mouth dripping my urine.
   "Fuck you," I spat back.  "And fuck your gratitude and your love.  You
disgust me.  You don't deserve the pleasure I'm about to give you - you
know that don't you?"
   "Yes, sir," he answered weakly, hanging his head.  "I deserve only to
suffer for you."
   "Yeah, yeah, yeah - get up, bitch.  C'mon.  Let's go downstairs.  I hope
our little cuntbunny is still alive.  If she isn't then you might just have
to take her place."
   He climbed out of the tub, piss dripping down him and he stepped out
behind me as I led him by the leash to the basement.
   Outside the glass sliding glass door the sun blazed in an achingly blue
sky and the snow glared harshly.
   It was gonna be a long fucking day.
   7.
   It hit me that this was a first for me.  I'd killed prostitutes and
strippers with my cunt-boys before - in fact, the slaughter of a female
usually prefaced the extreme torture or destruction of a cunt-boy - and I'd
killed little girls on my own but I'd never had a boy and girl combination
as perfect and fetching as Ray and Melanie.
   If I'd been into video-taping I would have definitely had the cameras
going but that was not part of my m.o..  Keeping tapes of these activities
was not very safe and not very smart.  I usually kept little mementos of my
babies - clothing, a lock of hair, a ring or bracelet...something easily
hidden.  But tapes, though they were sorely tempting, were absolutely out
of the question.
   The look on Ray's face as he stepped up to little Melanie, hanging from
the basement ceiling was something I wish I could have taped though...it
was a definite keeper.  Ray's adoring worshipful submissive face hardened,
turned cruel and vicious, ferret-like.
   "What a pretty little cunt," he said dreamily, his eyes devouring her
tormented body.
   She hung where I'd left her hours before by her ankles and wrists from
the ceiling, her belly slightly bloated from the considerable amount of
fluid I'd pumped into her.  Her pretty blonde hair was a disheveled mess
and hung over her bruised, battered face and shoulders in disarray, the
cute ponytail lost in the violence of the preceeding night.  She was
covered with bright red spatters of candle wax which had dried and stuck to
her skin and hair.
   "Looks like you had lots of fun with her last night, sir."
   "Yeah.  But she has lots left to give - there's plenty for both of us."
   I handed him a wooden shaft with a barbed dildo affixed on it.
   "You need to start by opening the little bitch back up.  I sealed her
last night.  Pop her open, boy.  Shove that thing up her ass and cunt -
shove it deep."
   Little Melanie's dazed bloodshot eyes had been looking back and forth
from me to Ray and Ray to me.  Now she whimpered mutedly, her throat
stopped up with a thick gob of candle wax, mouth and lips glued together in
a reddish miasma, snot trickling from her nose.  I was amazed she had been
able to remain conscious all these hours and most pleased with her stamina.
   "Goddamn," Ray exclaimed in admiration of my handiwork, looking around
at the votive candle vessels which were scattered around us on the floor.
"You stuffed the little bitch up with candle wax?"
   "Among other things...  Stop talking and start poking."
   Obediently Ray moved into position behind the nine year old child's
upflung legs lifting the barbed dildo on the end of the shaft to her
waxed-over cunt-slit.  The dogleash dangled from his neck draped down over
his belly and sideswiped his tumescent cock.
   The dildo on the shaft he was now holding was about six inches long and
one inch thick and was studded with sharp steel spikes.
   I saw that hard look come over Ray's face again as he slowly began to
push the shaft up Melanie's cunt.
   Watching intently I voiced my encouragement.
   "Push it in, boy - hard - mmmm - break the little whore -"
   Melanie stiffened and made a whinnying noise as the thick barbed metal
penetrated her and suddenly a flood of bloody piss and enema water laced
with slime shot and squirted out of her noisily spattering Ray's face and
chest.
   "Shitt!" my cunt-boy shouted startled, averting his face from the sudden
malodorous gush.
   I chuckled with amusement.  I had anticipated what was going to happen
and didn't even try to disguise my enjoyment of it.
   "Fuckin' bitch is pumped full!" he stated in amazement wiping his eyes
with the back of his hand.
   "That's right," I agreed.  "Now put that thing up her ass, boy - ram it
in there. And step back unless you want to eat a fresh load of crap."
   He did as I told him and as he pushed the barbed dildo into the opening
I'd so deliciously desecrated the night before blood, shit and tepid water
gushed from the squirming whimpering child.  This time my cunt-boy was not
caught off-guard and he stood back as sizable lumps of faeces and rivulets
of brownish fluid spilled from Melanie.  The smell of her desecrated body
filled the room.  I noticed it did not deter my savagely aroused cunt-boy
in any way...Like me, such scents only seemed to spur us on.  There was
something exceedingly erotic in turning a bright cute innocent baby into a
messy stinking dangling piece of human garbage.
   Ray yanked the dildo out, scraping bits of rectal skin right out of the
suffering preteen and as she continued to shit and fart what was left
inside her as he laughed at her gritted his teeth meanly and plunged the
torture-shaft savagely back into her bloody ass.
   Her trapped hands opened above the cuffed wrists as she reared her head
back and tried in vain to spit out the thick wax lodged in her throat to
scream out her pain.
   "Yeahh!" I shouted encouragingly.  "Slam in into her - deep as you want
- make er feel it."
   Ray drew out the shaft and with a savage grunt he plowed into her cunt,
burying it in her, pushing the barbed tip up into the child's cervix.
   "Yuhgggg!  GH-uhnhh!" Melanie grunted, her head falling forward between
her arms.
   My amazement at her endurance only deepened.  Most other victims her age
would have succumbed to the thrusting dildo and passed out.  Melanie's
energetic paroxysms indicated that she was nowhere near unconsciousness. 
The little bitch was going to give my cunt-boy and me a real nice ride.
   Again, Ray withdrew the spear-cock, took aim and like a young warrior,
with a victorious shout, he planted the thing deep up the child's already
violated rectum, grinding it up into her, twisting it inside her as she
spasmed, kicked and made frenzied sounds in her wax-stuffed throat.
   "How about her mouth, boy?" I suggested.  "Don't you want to hear the
little bitch scream louder?"
   "Won't it kill her, sir?"
   "Not if you're careful.  But don't be too careful.  I want to see you
hurt the little scumbag."
   "Yes, sir."
   Ray yanked the spear out of Melanie's ass and went around to stand in
front of the dangling victim.  His little cock was now standing straight
up. He was as excited and aroused by the hideous torture of the girl child
as I was.
   He raised the barbed shit-smeared dildo to her waxed-up lips.
   "Ghhnnn!  Ghnnnn!" she gasped, her eyes pleading with Ray.
   "Fuck you," the boy growled.
   The sound of his voice gave me chills and made my balls throb.
   With a forceful jab he pushed the dildo into the gooey mess in Melanie's
mouth and worked it in and out ripping flesh and wax from the inside of her
oral cavity, pushing the barbed dildo into her throat as blood, shit,
mucous and spit gushed from her lips and nostrils.
   "Eat it!" he shouted at her violently, his boyish voice tinged with
rage. "Eat it!"
   I was awestruck by the depth of my cunt-boy's sadism.  Bringing Melanie
here and sharing her destruction with him had been a wonderful idea, one
that would certainly be difficult to surpass in future sadistic exploits.
It was possible I'd hit my high point here - at least for the moment - and
I couldn't see past it to something more sinister, crude or violent.
   "Yahhggghh!" Melanie cried.  "Ngg-naahhaaahhaahhggghhh!"
   A final spew of blood spilled from her lips as Ray yanked the spear out.
   "Nooooggghhhhhh!" Melanie screamed bits of congealed wax and spit-laced
blood drooling from her lips and down her neck.
   "I want to fuck that mouth," Ray said, his eyes staring sickly at the
bleeding child.
   "Do it, boy," I told him.  "Take her."
   "I want her on her knees, sir - and I'd like to use one of those metal
dental gags you have."
   "By all means.  I'll let her legs down and keep her wrists up on the bar
while you get the gag, how's that?"
   "Yes, sir."
   I uncuffed Melanie's ankles and let her slashed cut-up feet dangle then
I lowered her on a pulley line until she knelt on the floor, arms
upstretched and wide apart, wrists trapped above her head which hung weakly
down.  Ray came around me with the dental gag in hand and he tipped her
head back, gripping her by her frazzled mane to push the chrome device past
her needle-pierced lips, adjusting it until the child's mouth was spread
way wide, her swollen eyes blinking up at him pleadingly as she made
unintelligible aahhhing sounds.  Perhaps the boy had been concerned the
little bitch might bite him, even if unintentionally, but for whatever
reason he'd used the thing the dental gag was visually stimulating on baby
Melanie. It enhanced her helplessness and intensified her already extreme
suffering.  Her jaw was stretched to its maximum capacity and her ravaged
mouth and throat were now gapingly exposed.
   Ray stepped up to her close and raised his cock to her teary beaten
face.
   Smiling down at her he pushed his entire penis into the red hole of her
yawning mouth and craned his head back.
   I took up a small multi-tongued dogwhip and circled my boy and girl
slaves watching Ray begin to piston in and out of her, his hands on her
head, fingers dug deep into her tangled wax-spattered blonde locks.
   "That's nice," I told him.  "Real nice.  Stuff the little bitch up. 
Choke her with your dick, boy."
   I swung the leather lash hard across his asscheeks and he moaned,
looking at me with dazed pleasure.
   "Put your hands at the back of your head," I told him.
   "Whip me hard, sir," he moaned.
   "I intend to, bitch."
   Melanie made little choked yelping sounds as Ray thrust his hips back
and forth driving his hard little pecker in and out of her throat-hole. 
Each time he thrust forward I swung the whip across him, striking at his
shoulderblades and at his lower back and at his buttocks.  He groaned with
masochistic delight and swiveled on his legs, which were spread wide now,
and he bumped up against Melanie making her swing back and forth from her
suspended arms.  I circled slowly, whipping at my cunt-boy's belly and at
his pectorals and he flinched and gasped with each blow and continued to
look at me with his dark whorish eyes.  I stared back coldly, swinging the
whip harder, watching his eyebrows arch as he cried out responsively.
   Without warning I slashed the whip across Melanie's back and she gave
out a short shriek, jumped upward and tried to look back at me.  Instantly,
Ray slammed forward into her, her nose shoved up against his hairless
crotch.  I whipped his belly and he slid back almost all the way out of
her, his eyes wide.
   "Ahhooww!" he cried.  "Yesss - hurt me - hurt me!"
   I whipped his tight round belly again, harder, watching him melt
submissively, offering himself to me while still pushing his swollen little
pecker into Melanie's distended lips.
   "Don't stop fucking her mouth, boy," I growled as I swung the leather
tongues viciously across the front of his body, back and forth.
   Then, again with sudden and unexpected vehemence I changed the focus of
my attack and began to flog the kneeling child.  Standing directly behind
her and bending down slightly I unleashed a fierce attack across her
backside, from her shoulders to her kneehollows.
   "Yeahh!" Ray snarled.  "Yeahh!  Yeahh!  Punish the little cunt, sir! 
Tear her apart!"
   Melanie screamed and sobbed and Ray fucked her screaming throat
violently, muting and sometimes distorting her high pitched vociferations.
   Now I paced around my slaves wantonly and randomly slashing at both of
them until they were both marked with bright red welts - in Melanie's case
red over red - red over black and blue - red through red wax spatters - as
opposed to Ray whose cinammon skin offered me a cleaner canvas.
   Savagely aroused I took my cunt-boy by his shoulder and pulled him away
from the nine year old turning him toward me slapping him hard across the
face.
   "On your knees, dirtbag," I growled.
   He obeyed unquestioningly and I thrust the whiphandle into his mouth.
   His face displayed a red imprint of my hand and the ferret-like
expression left his face.
   "Kneel there and hold my whip, understand?"
   He looked up at me submissively, nodding his understanding, grunting his
acquiescence.
   "I'll get back to you in just a bit."
   Now I turned to the kneeling girl-child, lifting my cock up into the
pouting wetness spread open by the dental gag.  I had to crouch down and
spread my legs wide in order to penetrate her the way Ray had just done and
I gripped her little blonde head tightly as I filled her.  My cock was
thicker and longer than my cunt-boy's and before half of it was in the nine
year old she was already choking and flushed fighting for air and looking
up at me defeatedly.  Disregarding her suffering, feasting on it in fact, I
continued to push my cock into the small fleshy throat hole, watching her
drool up thick white spit, eyes bulging wildly.  I grabbed her head with
one hand and her neck with the other to squeeze my little baby's throat, to
suffocate and feed her cockmeat.
   She brought one foot up under her, trying to get up, trying to struggle
against me.
   "Stay there,"I spat at her.  "Stay right there, fuckpig, or I'll cut
your little eyes out...  stinking little worm."
   "Ghhmm!" she replied.  "Ghhmmm!" Her leg slid back down and she sank
back down on her punished knees, snot oozing from her nostrils, streams of
bubbly drool rolling out of the edges of her gag-stretched lips and down
her neck and on to my prick and dripping off my balls.
   I turned to Ray.
   "Get up, cunt."
   He got to his feet quickly, his hands still at the back of his neck, my
whip still in his mouth.
   "Whip the little bitch across her back.  Whip her until you get the
blood out of her."
   A wild look came over his face as he took the whip from his mouth, the
handle shiny with his spit.  He moved quickly into position across from me,
our little torture angle between us and without hesitation began to slash
the multi-tongued weapon across the kneeling child.  As the pain tore
through her she looked up despondently and I plugged her throat up with
manmeat silencing or distorting her cries the way Ray had done earlier,
only more efficiently because my cock filled her all the way down to her
larynx.  Her vibrating voice-box was delightful against my cockhead and I
watched her jerk and twist under the harsh cuts of the whip.  She tried
again to get her legs up under her and get to her feet but I gripped her
hair and leaned down to elicit absolute obedience.  "Stay -" I told her. 
"Stay - right - where - you - are!"
   As Ray continued the unmitigated flogging I pumped her head back and
forth on my prick.  I watched my cunt-boy aroused and amazed at the cruel
concentration on his features.  He tore the whip back and forth with
monotonous precision.  I'd told him to whip Melanie Babytwat to blood and
that's exactly what he was going for, slashing wickedly at her and watching
for the first signs of ripped girlflesh.
   "Mmmm - ahhh -" he moaned, hitting harder and harder, jerking himself
off with his free hand.  "She's starting to bleed."
   "Don't you cum, boy," I told him.  "I want you to fuck her now and
you're gonna need that hard on - mmm - whip er a little more then we'll
fill this bunny up with cock."
   I let him flog Melanie choking her with my shaft almost unconscious,
pumping her head back and forth on my cock with furious impatience, blood
drops slithering down her thighs to the floor as the whiptongues thudded
and whapped into her then I reached up pulled the gag from her mouth and
uncuffed her wrists from the spreader bar.
   She slumped to the ground gasping for air.  I yanked her up by one arm
and tossed her on her back across a low wooden bench then I straddle-sat on
the bench her little head between my thighs grabbing her legs by the ankles
to pull them back to me, opening her up for my cunt-boy.
   "I want to whip her little pussy before I fuck it," he said thickly as
he moved in toward her.
   "Rip er to shreds," I told him.
   He didn't need much prompting at that point.  While I held Melanie's
little legs wide he proceeded to slash the whip down into her tortured
babypussy still jerking himself off as our helpless torture-angel wailed
her heart out on the bench, shaking her head from side to side.  After
thirty full-force cuts he dropped the lash and moved in, grabbing her
thighs and sinking his hard pecker into her blood- hashed slit.  I
continued to hold her tightly in place for him and he looked up at me his
eyes slitted, a blissful expression on his features as he worked himself in
and out.
   "Uhhh - uhhh - uhhh," he groaned.  "Shitt th-this feels so n-nice, sir
-"
   I leaned forward my face right up to his.
   "Glad you like er," I growled.  "Now kiss me, scumbag."
   "Ahhh -" he moaned and dipped forward to smear his pretty mouth on mine.
   I tongue-kissed him and bit his lips.  Still holding Melanie's ankles I
scooted up on the bench to sit on her face and press my asshole into her
nose.  Now we were both riding our little blonde baby mare, all three of us
fused obscenely, a thirty five year old killer, his twelve year old
cunt-boy and their nine year old slaughter angel.
   "Did you get to fuck er, sir?" he asked pounding himself into the child.
   "All night long," I told him, nibbling on his neck and earlobe.  "All
fuckin' night - I opened her up for you - mmmm - just for you, boy - ahhh
damn - she's one sweet little fuckpuppet isn't she?"
   Under my balls Melanie whimpered and struggled to breathe.
   "Yess," Ray hissed.  "ohhh - she's - sooo - warm - inside -"
   I kissed him again, harder, both of us groaning with pleasure, bathed in
sweat.
   "Mmmm - fuck er up the ass, boy - mmmm - stick your little prick up in
there and see how nice that feels."
   "Ahh yes - yes sir - yes - I'll fuck er the way you - fuck - me -"
   I smiled and licked his cheek all the way up to his hairline and down
again as he slid his cock out of Melanie's little cooze and pushed it
against her swollen anus and sank into her.
   "Ohhhh Godd," he groaned, craning his head back, his hands moving up to
my shoulders as I bit his neck.  "Thaaaat's nice - sooo - n-nice -"
   "Yeah, its nice, scumbag - yeah its nice - fuck yeahh -"
   Melanie's movements were becoming weaker under me.  I knew if I didn't
get up off her she would pass out for lack of oxygen.  I rode her for a few
more minutes and then I got up off the bench.  I looked down at her.  She
was flushed red, her eyes half closed.  The dental gag had left dark
bruises on the sides of her face.  Blood was leaking from her lips and
nose. Ray was pounding into her and bouncing her on the bench but she was
listless and unresponsive.
   "Keep her legs up," I told Ray releasing her ankles and letting him take
her limbs.  The boy was in a deep state of arousal, his hips thrusting
feverishly into the child on the bench.  I told him to push her up on some
and give me room and I moved in and sat behind him.
   "I'm gonna fuck you while you fuck her, boy," I told him.
   "Mmm - yes sir!" he said and rose up on tiptoe spreading his legs open
for me his strong legs straddling mine.  "Put it in me, sir - punish me
with it -"
   I put one hand on his smooth whip-striped back to guide him and I
propped my stiff prick up into his butthole between his warm thighs.  His
balls caressed my shaft as he slid in and out of Melanie.  I positioned the
head of my organ at his asshole but did not enter him.
   "Sit on me, boy - fuck yourself on me."
   "Ohh yes - yes - ahhhh -" he moaned softly giving me his weight.
   The boy's tight smooth sphincter muscle squeezed me all the way down as
I penetrated him.  He was hot and moist inside and the sensation of his
intestinal tract raking against my hard manmeat made my balls swell
achingly.  His back and hips seemed to flow gracefully as he pumped into
Melanie.  Those snake-like movements teased my prick inside him to its
fullest hardness until he was painfully impaled on me.  I grabbed him by
the scruff of his neck to arch upward into him as he pressed down and he
moaned feebly, femininely.
   "Y-yeaaaaahhhh - Fuck me, sir -" he sighed.  "Fuck me - fuck me - fuck
me - fuck me -"
   "Goddamn faggot - I ought to kill you -"
   I moved my hand around his neck to grip his throat and choke him.
   "Ghh - yeahh -" he gasped.  "Do it - ghhh - fuck me and kill me - that's
all I'm good for - use me - break me - ugghhh -"
   Still choking him I began to punch him in the back as I fucked him,
pounding my knuckles into his kidneys and lower back, making him cry out
breathlessly as he continued to fuck Melanie.  I wanted to put bruises on
the welts my whip had left.  I wanted to hurt my cunt-boy.  Each time I
punched him I jacked upward into him giving him the full length of my prick
and squeezing the breath from him until he drooled and hung his head.
   After a bit I made him pull out of Melanie and told him to get up on his
feet, then I hauled the unresponsive child up on top of my thighs as I sat
on the bench to slam my cock up her bleeding little poophole, she leaning
back against me, her legs straddling mine, and screaming as I pushed as
much of my prick into her as I could.
   "Let's doubleteam er, boy," I urged Ray who stood watching and stroking
himself and licking his lips.
   His neck was dark red from my squeezing fingers.
   I spread my legs wide to let him come up against Melanie and put his
hard boymeat to her bloody pussyhole.
   She gave out a wheezing whimper as he entered her ripped up loveslit and
I put my hands around her throat.
   "Pleeeeeze -" she pleaded.  "N-noo mmoorre - no mooore -"
   "Shut up, fuckpig," I growled and began strangling her.  "Me and my boy
got lots more for you - so learn to fuckin' love it."
   Ray began punching her belly while he fucked her as if returning the
violence I'd expended on him earlier, his expression hard as he looked up
into her flushed suffering face.  Each time he hit her her little shithole
squeezed my prick and I choked her harder.  Ray's cock sheathing and
unsheathing in her massaged my own hard meat through the punished tot's
insides, through the thin membranes of female flesh that separated my cunt
boy's organ from my own.  I started choking her one-handedly and punching
her sides while my cunt-boy worked her front.  Soon we had a devastating
ryhthm going.  The nine year old coughed loudly and puked up blood.  Ray
laughed but kept up the beating until I felt Melanie start to go lax, her
head hanging forward.
   "Alright," I snarled.  "That's enough - I don't want to kill er like
this."
   Ray backed away sliding out of her and I lifted her up off my blood and
shit smeared cockstaff to drop her between my legs to the floor at our
feet.
   "Its time to make our little fuckpuppet dance for us," I told my
cunt-boy rising to my feet and moving toward the closet across the room.
   I pulled out the shallow plywood box and tugged it to the center of the
room.
   Then I went back for the barbecue grill which was full of charcoal
bisques.
   After switching on the ceiling exhaust fan I got the lighter fluid,
sprayed it on the coals and tossed a match in to see the flames pop loudly
and hotly to life.  Dark smoke billowed from the grill and rose into the
ventilation grill and the smell of burning coal filled the room.
   While I was busy with the coals Ray went on his knees to rub his cock on
Melanie's slashed foot soles.  The little beaten-up bitch just lay there,
eyes glassy, mouth open and pouting.  Once the fire was going the grill I
turned to watch him pull her legs open and move up between them to stuff
himself up her little cunt.
   I moved up to him and pushed my cock into his face.
   He took me in his lips wordlessly looking up at me.
   "Put your hands behind you and deepthroat me, bitch," I told him. 
"Choke on me."
   He did as he was told and I let him work me for a while watching him
fuck the unresisting nine year old on the floor his hands clenched behind
him at the middle of his back.  He took as much of me as he could handle,
his brows knitted together as he slammed himself on to me, gagged noisily,
shut his eyes tightly and pleasured me.
   Ray was one of the best cunt-boys I'd ever had.  Possibly the best.
   Watching him choke and gag on my cock the fusion of strong feelings
again swept through me.  Would I let him live?  And if so what then?  Would
he become my life-long partner - my killing buddy - my permanent little
slave? And what would happen when he got older and looked more masculine? I
knew I wouldn't want him then.  I probably would have to kill him before
that.
   Oh yeah.  Way before that.
   I let him go on fucking Melanie and gag-fellating me for quite a while
because I needed the coals to be glowing red for the next stage in the
takedown of the nine year old.
   8.
   When the coals are ready Ray helps me overturn the grill to spill the
sizzling red bisques into the aluminum-foil-lined box on the floor.  We
both wear gloves to keep from burning our hands.
   The box is ten square feet wide and the ashy bisques fill it out
creating a blazing smoking hot surface inside the plywood frame.
   When we finish we take off the gloves and toss them aside.
   I inject a healthy dose of amphetamines into little Melanie, right into
her throat artery, and bring her around with a few well placed face slaps.
   I break out a packet of happy dust and me and Ray do a few lines.
   Ray watches me put Melanie in special bondage:
   Spreader bar cuffed to her wrists, arms wide.
   I make her get up on her feet.
   She's crying because as the amphetamines kick in she can feel every cut,
every wound, every bruise we've imposed on her, especially her ripped up
soles which now take her weight.
   Sweet little fuck.
   I grab her little head and bend her forward to tie the spreader bar to
her knees with barbed wire strands, her legs slightly apart.  Tightly I
yank on the wire until it gouges into her skin with each loop.
   I tie my baby angel's head down between her legs to the spreader bar so
that she can look back between her legs, upside down, sobbing fitfully.
   Now our little bowed bitch is ready to suffer.
   Ray and I take up cattle prods and I walk her to the box.
   "Get in there," I growl, pushing her toward the waiting coals.
   She steps over the edge of the plywood enclosure and into the blistering
surface.
   Instantly she's screaming, trying to back out of the box.
   I touch her with my prod and her screams go shrill as she moves away
from me and toward the other side of the box where Ray is waiting, laughing
as she tries to escape the coals on that side.  He touches his crackling
wand to her back and she squeals and turns heading back in my direction. 
We circle and prod, circle and prod our desperate victim keeping her inside
the box's frame, moving quickly and anticipating her attempts to flee from
the burning coals. Bent over in that awkward position she reminds me of a
small trapped animal, a little insect, a wind-up plaything.  My cunt-boy's
sadistic laughter is contagious and soon I'm laughing with him at Melanie's
hopeless plight.  Her movements are hopelessly clumsy.  What we are doing
to her is heartless, inhuman...but so absolutely delightful.  I wonder what
those stupid suburban mom-bitches would think about this little circus act
of barbarity were they able to witness it.  What of Melanie's own mother,
she of the L.L.Bean jacket and expensive boots. I would have given anything
to have her witness the torture and destruction of her baby princess.
   Both the boy and I are supercharged from the cocaine, strung high on it.
   Our eyes, slitted, blaze hotly as we touch our prods against Melanie's
whipped thighs and calves and to her bent back and firm little asscheeks
viciously graced by bruises and welts but now and then we touch our prods
to her ravaged little twat or poophole, or to her suffering screaming face.
Ray manages once to even push the prod into her open mouth and explode the
little bitch off her feet.  She tumbles sideways into the burning coals,
rising quickly if clumsily again as we laugh wildly at her, severe boils
already visible on her legs where the whitish ash clings.  Pumped up on our
coke high, stroking ourselves, we start one of our little impromptu games,
Ray and I, to see if we can knock her down again.  I push my rod into her
left eye as Ray gets her from behind and she goes down screaming her little
head off.  We let her get up.  She moves toward Ray and he grabs her by the
spreader bar and holds her for me while I shove my cattle prod up her
asshole.  When I press down the switch, she twists out of his grip with a
wild cry and roll-flips into the coals.  She lies there squirming and
burning and we laugh and jerk off pushing our prods into her belly and
sides, keeping her down.  As she lies on her back on the coals, her little
bloody feet kicking up in the air, covered with smouldering ash, Ray gouges
out her cunt with his cattle prod and I watch him.  We're no longer
laughing.  Both of us stare down meanly at our victim drinking in her
terrible anguish.
   I know if I leave her there much longer she will die, roast like a
holiday piglet, and I move in to hoist her up and out of the coals.  She
staggers around then runs headfirst into the wall to collapse on the floor
sobbing.
   Heartlessly, we laugh again, inspired by her desperate antics.
   Our gums are numb from the coke.
   No longer laughing I stand over Ray, extend my hand to take the cattle
prod from him.
   "Did you enjoy that, scumbag?" I ask him.
   "Yes, sir," he answers softly, handing me back the weapon.  "Thank you."
   "Shut the fuck up and bend over."
   He does so and I put one rod up against his balls and push the bulbed
tip of the other one into his ass.  I make him wait for it and he crouches
there trembling, his hands on his thighs, knowing what's coming.
   "Its easy to give pain but can you take it?"
   "If that's what it takes to please you, sir."
   "Yeah, scumbag, that's what it takes," I tell him and I press the switch
on both prods.
   He howls and tries to jump away.  I corner him against the wall holding
him there with the prods pushed into him.
   "Not so fuckin' funny now, is it boy?"
   I hold him there until he's on his knees and crying like a baby then I
withdraw the prods and toss them into the cabinet.
   "On your feet," I tell him, lifting his arms up into cuffs that dangle
from suspension chains as he obeys me.  "Its time for you to remember your
place here. You're no better than the little cunt.  I'm going to enjoy
myself with both of you now."
   I slide the box with the coals out of the way into a corner then I hoist
my little cunt-boy's legs up as well so that he hangs helplessly by wrists
and ankles.  I then haul the nine year old female up on the chains right
next to him after releasing her from her punishing spreader-bar/barbed wire
bondage.
   Both children hang for me, legs wide apart.
   Melanie's a fucking mess compared to Ray.
   I know she doesn't have too far to go.  Her eyes are inexpressive,
defeated. All the vigor and energy of childhood sapped from them.
   Slowly I stroke myself in preparation.
   I'm gonna fuck my babies.
   Fuck em both long and hard, up both holes, sodomize them for all they're
worth - filthy little bunnies - fuck em both hard and slow and cruel - meat
for my prick - fresh young warm meat.
   I start with Ray moving right up to him and positioning myself, my meat
right at the entrance of his tight little ass, burned red by the cattle
rod.
   "Ready for me, boy?"
   He nods.
   "Give it to me, sir...Use your little fuckslave...break me..."
   My hands rise to his upstretched legs to grip his kneehollows.
   "You know I will, scumbag - you know I will -"
   I am an abuser of children.  To the core of my being.
   9.
   It goes on and on for quite a while.  The cocaine has fired me up to an
almost unbearable peak of sexual energy.  I move from the boy to the girl
punish-fucking them, slamming my hard meat up their little buttholes,
gouging out Melanie's little pussy with my blood-lubed prick.  Their small
bodies dance in paroxysmic suspended agony, helpless and vulnerable to my
attacks.  I pick up the barbed dogwhip and slash at their crotches tearing
ear-splitting wails from them, slashing babypussy and babycock randomly,
drawing blood before moving in to fuck my dangling victims savagely - whip
and fuck - whip and fuck - alternating - watching them hang there then
moving in - fiercely penetrating - using them - jerking myself off with
their suffering bodies - biting their arms and shoulders and legs - reduced
to my lowest animal denominator - beastly - I punch them and slap them and
spit on them but mostly I fuck my little kids.  Fuck them with slamming
pistoning thrusts, going in all the way to my balls, taking my full
enjoyment.
   I take their suffering higher.
   I release the girl and she slides down to her knees.
   I choke her mouth open and gouge a big fishing hook through her tongue.
   I tie the hook to a pulley line and hoist her up on her little
burn-slashed feet, tie her hands to her thighs.  On the other end of the
pulley line I tie a strand of barbed wire which I wind cruelly around the
base of the boy's cock and around his little ball sacs pulling it tight,
snagging the sharp barbs into his meat while he hangs and screams for me so
pretty, blood oozing into his ass crack.
   Now both kiddies are strung together in mutual suffering.
   Grabbing a pair of metal tongs I pick up a hot coal and lift it to
Melanie's chest.
   Her head is craned back, tongue yanked upward by the fishing hook and as
I touch the coal against her swollen needle-gouged nipples she gives out a
gurgling groan and tries to pull away.  The pulley line tugs on Ray's
tied-off genitals and he squeals piercingly.  I smile broadly and stroke
myself with unrepressed sadistic glee as I watch my babies suffer for me
moving the tongs up to Melanie's shoulders and cheeks - then down to her
belly and thighs - leaving black smudge-burns on the screaming nine year
old.  I press the coal to the back of Ray's legs, to his rump and he yanks
on the suspension chains and pulls from one side to the other making
Melanie go up on her toes, her tongue stretched to its limit by the hook,
blood spurting on her lips and down her neck.  I re-focus my attention on
the girl, on her whipped legs, on her knees and shins.  I move around her
and paint coal burns on her back and asscheeks, on her thighs and calves,
on her shoulderblades.  I circle back around and press the coal to her
forehead.  Ash-bits crumble into her eyes burning them, hissing on her
tears.  Returning to Ray I push the coal into his belly button and hold it
there watching him scream.  I push it into his barbed-wire bound balls.  I
move up against him and shove my prick up his asshole burning his nipples
with the coal as I fuck him.  Sliding out of him I turn on Melanie and
press the coal into her little mons watching her eyes roll back in her head
as she screams and tugs backward, shaking her head once the hook ripping
her tongue in half as she falls to the floor on her butt.  I slide down to
my knees prying her legs open to slide deep into her burned bleeding
twathole, mounting her, fucking her on the ground, pounding her against the
concrete, pressing the coal into her belly and chest and shoulders and
arms.
   Fucking little slut.  I'm pumped up for the kill.  Little Melanie's time
on earth is about to end.
   I get to my feet and reach up to release Ray.  I'm going to need him to
be my little assistant.  I let him down and he stands weakly while I uncuff
his wrists.
   I leave the barbed wire strand wrapped around his little genitals.  No
need to release him completely from suffering now - he will be suffering
for the duration.
   I cut the barbed wire strand free of the pulley line and hand Ray the
loose end.  He leans against the support pillar slightly bent forward and
crying.
   "You need to focus, boy," I tell him.  "We're gonna kill the little
bitch together - you hear me?"
   He nods.
   I slap him hard.
   "Don't you nod your fucking head at me, bitch.  Answer the question."
   "Yes - yes - I hear you, sir - I'm sorry, sir - sorry - sorry -"
   "You piece of shit.  You're always sorry.  You're one sorry piece of
trash."
   From the cabinet I take six long metal skewers and a butcher knife then
I go to Melanie and slide down on my knees between her little legs which
are still spread wide and twitching.
   "Watch me, boy," I growl reaching up for the bloody fishing hook which
dangles just over my head.  With my other hand I take the butcher knife and
make an incision in Melanie's whipped coal-burned belly, just below her
belly button.  I press the sharp blade deep, slicing through the peritoneum
and into the intestinal cavity.  The little bitch makes a whining moaning
sound and her hands, rope bound still to her thighs, clench.  Ray looks
down at us, still leaning against the cellar support beam, sniffling, but
interested.  I take the fishing hook and pierce it into a bit of pinkish
intestinal gut inside Melanie's belly, pinching up a strand of her innards
and bringing out through the knife cut.
   Looking up at Ray I tell him:
   "Pull on the rope - slowly - you understand?"
   "Yes, sir."
   "I don't want you to rip the hook out.  I want you to yank her guts out
of her while I fuck her and torture her.  If you do it nice and slow it
won't kill her.  The longer it takes the better it is for me.  You got it?"
   "Ohh yess - slow - do it slow -"
   "Start pulling, boy."
   Gingerly, Ray begins to tug on the pulley line.
   Melanie's guts are drawn upward, blood spurting from the wound, bits of
shit, darker blood.  She contorts and screams, eyes opening wide.  I grab
her by the hips and shove my cock up her baby twat, hilting myself in her.
She tries to get up.  Ray puts his foot on her shoulder and presses her to
the ground.  While I fuck her I draw superficial cuts on her legs, lifting
them up off the floor to push the knife into her little calves and bloody
feet.  As her baby cooze squeezes my ramrod erection I stuff her right up
to my balls and begin stabbing her upper thighs and her hands.  Her blood
spatters on me and on the floor and on Ray.  Taking a brief respite from
the knifing I reach up and yank on the barbed-wire strand around my
cunt-boy's cock.  I tug on him while he tugs on Melanie.  A long intestinal
streamer dangles on the fishhook, three feet high and rising.
   "Owww!" Ray cries out as I yank on his testicles.  His teeth are
clenched together and he's covered with sweat.  "Owhhh!  Yesss !  H-Hurt
me! Rip it off me if you want - do whatever you want - ughhh -"
   "Just keep pulling her guts out..."
   "Mmmm - yeahh - its getting harder to pull - its stuck in there -"
   "Don't worry about it."
   I yank on his wired sex organs and make him sob and he tugs harder on
Melanie.
   A thick gush of blood breaks from her belly gash and more intestines
unwind and rise toward the ceiling.
   She shrieks.  Her agony is pure bliss for me and I push the knife into
her arms, lovingly, cut my little baby piece by piece from this life.
   Its time to use the skewers.
   The first one I push into her upper belly from the left, up into her
ribcage, puncturing the lung.  The second one goes into her on her other
side.
   Her blue eyes look up into mine.
   "Ghwwaaa - wwhhh - ugghhh -" she grunts as I push the third skewer into
her belly button just above the gash from which Ray is tugging her
intestines out.
   I look back into her eyes, smiling.
   "Die you little piece of shit," I tell her softly, working myself in and
out of her tight blood-lubed cunt.  "Die - die - die - yeahhhh - die for
me, Melanie... Little Melanie's my little slaughter baby - aren't you?  Yes
you are.  You're not gonna see mommie or daddy ever again, babycakes.  No.
And you know what? You've been a bad girl, letting Ray and me play with you
and you're not going to heaven - no - not at all."
   Above me Ray hissed with pleasure in response to my cruel mental
destruction of the innocent child.
   "You know what the devil looks like?  Huh?  Do you know what he looks
like, babycakes?"
   I showed her the fourth skewer.
   "He has hundreds of spikes just like this one all over his body and he
takes little girls like you and does just like I'm doing to you - over and
over - for all eternity - yes.  Forever.  That's what's gonna happen to
you, babycakes.  After we're done here you're going straight to hell to be
Satan's little whore until the fucking end of time - how do you like that?"
   Her blue eyes stared hopelessly up at me as she gasped for air.
   She believed every single word I was telling her - believed and
understood.
   "Noooooooo!" she wailed, bloody sliced-up tongue fluttering in her
mouth.
   And as she did I thrust the skewer through her cheeks, left to right,
gouging through her face.
   "Kill the little bitch!" Ray snarled.  "Kill her!  Kill her!  Kill her!"
   The fifth skewer is in my hand and I'm fucking the nine year old angel
brutally now, using her for all she can give me.  Five feet of gut hangs on
the end of the hook and Ray is still pulling.
   Viciously I slam the skewer into her left eye popping it almost out of
the socket, hot thick blood running from the destroyed orb and down her
face as she shrieks.  Leaving the metal spike in her I take the knife and
cut the intestine strand free.  She spasms exquisitely around my cock.
   I order Ray to lie on the floor behind me, his face under me and between
Melanie's bloody legs.  I tell him to lick my asshole and my balls.
   Plunging the knife into the gash already in Melanie's gutsac I complete
her disembowelment, opening her from right to left.
   As Ray's tongue dances on my balls I slice her nipples off.
   Taking the sixth skewer I ram it into her other eye blinding her
forever.
   The first tingles of oncoming orgasm pulse through my shaft.
   I withdraw from Melanie and push my shaft into Ray's mouth then back up
Melanie's ass then into Ray's mouth again then back into Melanie's cunt.
   "Ahhhhh shittt!" I growl as the full power of climax now takes me.
   I slash Melanie's throat open and she gives out a last mewling girlie
cry as I begin to pump cum into her dying body.  The orgasm lasts a full
two minutes but I don't lose the erection.  Ray moans feverishly thrusting
his little tongue up my asshole.  I'm at a fierce peak point.
   Climbing to my feet I take my cunt-boy by the hair and drag him back to
the dangling cuffs.
   I hang him by his wrists, kick Melanie's carcass out of the way and
begin using my cunt boy for a punching bag.
   "Did you like that, boy?  Huh?  Did you fucking like it?"
   Each comment is followed by a brutal blow to his belly and chest.
   "We just killed an innocent human being.  You helped me do it.  You're
just as guilty as I am.  Did you like killing the little cunt?"
   "Uhwhh!  Yess!  Uhww!  I loved it, sir!  Ughh!"
   "Loved it?  Loved it, bitch?  You're a fucking sick faggot, you know
that? Huh?  A fucking sick faggot!  I oughta fuckin' kill you too.  Don't
you think?  You miserable piece of shit faggot.  Kill you too.  How about
that?  Huh?"
   His ribs snapped under my punching fists.
   I yanked on his wire-bound prick, pulled the end of the wire up to his
lips.
   "Take that in your mouth, scumbag, and hold it there."
   He did, forcing his little cock to stretch upward toward his belly
button and I took a thin steel rod.
   "Don't you fuckin' drop that wire, bitch," I told him.  "I'm gonna paint
you red!"
   I whipped him with the long shaft.  It whistled sharply and cut into his
thighs and belly and into the underside of his cock and into his little
balls and into his knees and shins.  I whipped his back and his ass with
it. I sliced hundreds of cutlines in my little suffering cunt-boy.  Then I
took a thick wooden dowel and smashed it across his legs breaking one foot
and snapping one ankle bone, leaving black bruises all over my tormented
suffering captive.  I clubbed his arms, busting one at the elbow joint.
   Then I tossed the dowel aside, lifted his broken legs in my hands and
put my cock up his ass as far as I could, fucking him senseless and finally
cumming deep in him.  He continued to hold the wire in his teeth all
through that until I slid out of him, my cum running down his thighs as I
dropped his legs and he sobbed in pain.
   I uncuffed him and he crumpled to the floor and lay there weeping weakly
next to Melanie's horribly mutilated carcass.
   Lifting my cock I took aim and pissed on both of them.
   By the time I was done Ray had slipped into uncosciousness.
   10.
   I went upstairs to get some sleep and when I returned to the basement in
the morning I half hoped to find Ray dead - it would have made my life
easier.  But he wasn't.  He was crouching in a corner broken and shivering.
He was silent and only stared at me as I towered over him.  I suppose I
could have just picked up the knife and finished him but the strange
mixture of emotions moved through me.
   " - I - love - you -" he whispered.
   "Fuck you," I replied.  "You stupid faggot.  I should have killed you
last night."
   "Kill me now."
   "Don't tempt me..."
   He stared back with those dark haunting gypsy eyes.
   "Stop eyeballing me, boy," I growled.
   He looked down at the floor.
   Melanie lay where she'd died in a puddle of blood and guts and bits of
flesh.
   "We're gonna bury her," I told him.
   "I - I can't walk -" he muttered.
   "You can crawl.  When I'm finished with her I'll leave you in the park."
   "Its cold," he moaned looking up at me again.
   "I said don't eyeball me, scumbag.  Yeah its cold.  Its thirty six
degrees outside.  It'll be forty something by noon.  You might just make
it."
   He knew what the score was.  I would leave him in the park, in a wooded
area and then I would call 911 from a public phone so they could come and
get him.  He would then tell the authorities about the two men who'd
kidnapped him and give the phony descriptions.  But he was hurt badly. 
Both his legs were broken and his ribs were cracked.  His cock had been
nearly severed by the barbed wire which I decided I would leave on him.  He
was bloody and bruised everywhere and the cold weather might just finish
the job I'd started.
   While Ray watched silently, his breath wheezy, I cut Melanie to pieces
with a hacksaw and stuffed her into two large heavy duty garbage bags.  I
took the bags up to the car then I came back for Ray picking up the leash
which still dangled from his neck and dragging him up the stairs.  He cried
and groaned as I made him crawl-climb the stairs and whimpered as I lifted
him up and stuffed him into the trunk with the garbage bags.
   I went back inside and got dressed.  It was a glove, hats, boots and
heavy jacket day.
   By the time we got to Franconia State Park the sky was a gray smear
barely lit by the dawn.
   I drove off the main highway and up the snaking dirt road to the wooded
area where several of my victims already lay, under a canopy of oak
branches.
   Leaving Ray in the car I took the bags that contained the remains of our
little slaughter-angel and a shovel and dug a hole next to one of the old
gnarled trees.  I dumped her in and covered her over.  No need for a
marker. She was no more important than a dead dog or a dead hamster - maybe
less in my book.  No one would ever find her here.  This was federal park
property and no one would be digging up the area any time soon.  If they
had they would have unearthed the remains of sixteen human beings, women,
girls and boys, used up and discarded for my pleasure.
   I imagined Melanie's parents would be already crazed with worry and
grief and the police would be looking all over the city.  And I knew that
even when Ray was found there would be no connection between the two cases.
There would be no reason for it.  If he lived, my little cunt-boy was going
to lie for me and protect me, and eventually come back to me...eventually
die for me and end up here maybe right next to little Melanie.  That was an
absolute certainty.
   No.  Melanie Johnston who had died in the worst way imaginable, her mind
and body savaged, would have no proper funeral, no heart wrenching goodbye
from mommy and daddy.  She was nothing more than fertilizer now. 
Worthless.
   Gently I fingered the small lock of her blonde hair I'd cut off her
eyeless head before stuffing it in the bag.  I smiled and made my way back
to the car.
   I drove for another hour back to City Park.  Morning traffic was just
starting.
   The unused access road was clear and I drove toward the wooded area near
the river.  At this time of year there would be no one out here.  I backed
up into a parking spot near the picnic tables and after a quick look around
I popped the trunk open.
   Ray lay on his side, shivering visibly, bloody snot pooled around his
head.
   I lifted him up out of the trunk and set him down on the dirt then led
him into the trees.  He crawled weakly and painfully behind me on his
broken limbs and after a while I was half dragging him over the carpet of
dead leaves and among the bare leaf-less trees.
   I led him to the thick trunk of an old pine and wound the leash around
the tree securing the boy to it by his neck tightly.
   He looked beautiful all beaten up, his legs skewed weirdly apart as he
sat awkwardly against the tree.
   Looking down at him I realized I needed more from him so I went back to
the car and got the hammer and nails from the tool box in the trunk.
   I went back to him.  Pulling his hands up together behind him, palms up,
I lifted them up and wacked a thick nine inch nail right through both limbs
nailing him to the tree before he could pull away.  He gave out a sharp
strangled cry.
   "Keep quiet boy," I snarled.
   I didn't want anyone that might be nearby to be alerted.
   I then put two more nails in each arm securing him to the pine while he
bit his lip to keep from screaming.
   Now I came around him.
   His barbed-wire wrapped cock lay limply on the pine tree's thick root.
   I went down on one knee in front of him.
   He shook his head from side to side.
   "No," he said softly, still shivering, his breath making puffy clouds in
front of his pretty beaten face.  "No - pleease - sir - don't - don't -"
   "Since when do you tell me what I do or don't do, scumbag?"
   "No - sir - never - I don't - but - I -"
   I put the tip of the nail to the middle of his flaccid penis.
   "But nothing, bitch - but nothing -"
   I raised the hammer high.
   "You take what I give you and thank me for it - now don't make a fuckin'
sound, pig."
   With one slamming blow I drove the nail through the boy's cock and right
into the tree root securing him there for the rescue guys to find him, dead
or alive.
   "Ggggwwwwwrrrr-" he gasped mutedly pressing his head back against the
trunk.
   A stream of blood and piss poured from his punctured organ and leaked
down into the dirt.
   I put the hammer on the ground, unzipped my cock and jerked off with my
gloved hand, standing over him.
   "Open your mouth," I ordered.
   He did - and he kept it open for the six long minutes it took for me to
get to climax - his breath making billowy puffs all around his head.
   When I came I leaned forward to empty my cum into his lips.
   "Now tell me you love me, faggot - go ahead - tell me now -"
   "ghhmm - agh - luhv - youu -" he blurted, his mouth full of my sperm,
long thick plumes of it snaking down his cheeks to his leashed neck, his
dark eyes worshipping me.
   I could see the sky reflected in them as I stepped back and stuffed my
cock back in my pants and zipped up.
   "If you live, asshole, you'll come back to me won't you?"
   "ghh - yezzhh - come back to you - yezzh sirr -"
   "That's a good boy - Course you might not make it today.  I mean I'll
have to call the rescue boys soon won't I.  Its pretty cold out here."
   He nodded, tears running from his eyes.  He was already trembling
intensely.
   "But if you do make it, I expect to hear from you as soon as you can
walk, understand?"
   "Yezz - uhhggmm - yezz sirr -"
   I picked up the hammer, turned and began walking back to the car.
   As I moved through the bare trees the hammer felt heavy in my hand.
   I can go back, I thought.
   A couple of good strong wacks on the head should do it.
   I knew his eyes were following me, those goddamn pretty gypsy eyes of
his.
   I could gouge them out with the hammer's claw.
   When I drove out of the parking area I saw the public phone near the
restrooms.
   I almost stopped to call 911 but then I thought there would probably be
another phone soon, up the road.
   And there was.  Just outside the park area, near a grocery store.
   But I didn't stop then either.
   After all there were plenty of phones to use.  Why use one near the
park?
   I knew it was cold.  I knew my cunt-boy was nailed out there shivering
as the sun rose slowly into view over him.  Shivering.  Soon probably
dying. The taste of my cum in his mouth.
   Maybe I would call and maybe I wouldn't.
   It was kind of nice thinking about him nailed there in agony waiting,
waiting, feeling the new day coming all around him while he faded away.  I
was in no hurry to get back home and clean up the mess in the basement.
   After a while I found myself driving up the ramp and on to the
expressway.
   I watched the morning traffic swell, the people going to work and soon I
was in a bumper-to-bumper jam.
   I switched on the radio and tuned it to the classical station.
   Bach.  Brandenburg concerto.
   I smiled and licked my lips.
   The music was cheerfully bright and full of hope.
   The grayness had given way to sunlight and all was well with the world.
   WOODBURN