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.
   Rosalva's Yearning
   You can't always get what you want - but if you try sometimes you get
what you need.
   __The Rolling Stones
   1.
   There is a house on the outskirts of Orchidea.  The property is
surrounded by a ten foot chain-link fence topped with barbed wire.  The
yard is unkempt and overgrown and has been that way for years.  Sheriff
Brentwood, has received an anonymous donation, if you want to call it that,
insuring his lack of interest in events surrounding the property and those
who use it.  Before him, Sheriff Larson had the same deal.  And before him,
Sheriff Garvey.  These donations' have allowed Orchidea's law enforcement
to grow and prosper in ways that would not have been possible otherwise. 
In return, no investigation into the uses of the ramshackle property which
stands at the end of a two mile dirt road, deep in the woods, is ever to be
undertaken or even thought of.  Neither of the sheriffs has ever lost sleep
over it.  No reports have ever come into the office concerning the
property. No town inspectors even have the address listed in their report
sheets.  Everyone has looked the other way.
   Out of sight out of mind.
   The three men who own the property like it that way. They use the house
a few times every year depending on their ability to find fuel' for the
fire, as they like to call it. They will be using the property tonight.
Fuel has been located in an orphanage in Russia. It hasn't come cheap but
then again the best fuel never does. The men, for whom money is no object,
know that the best fuel - so hard to find - makes the best fire. The men
know that good things come in small packages - the smaller the better - and
so the men have through the years developed contacts for the kind of fuel
they need. Special fuel for their dark sick needs.
   Fuel like Katya Malenko.
   Katya is a four year old girl-child with long dark brown hair, dark sad
eyes and pouting lips. Katya is the kind of fuel the men enjoy using up.
She's made for it.  Tailor-made for it.
   Rosalva delivers her from the airport at around one in the afternoon. As
per instructions the child will be taken upstairs, stripped naked, bathed
and then left handcuffed to the bedpost in the master bedroom.  Sweet Katya
babbles and squeals in her musical slavic language as Rosalva yanks her
clothes off, her pretty blue dress pulled over her head.  Her pink panties
dragged down to the floor, her maryjane shoes and frilly socks, pretty
packaging the orphanage assumed would please her buyers, stripped from her
unceremoniously. Before sending her to America her guardians put Katya
through an extensive photographic session in an apartment in Moscow. 
Soft-core photographs of the naked child were placed on several legal and
illegal sites on the internet for profit.  In some of the pictures Katya
wears the clothes Rosalva now tears from her - in some she wears a white
camisole and she's holding a bouquet of daisies - in others she kneels
naked on blue studio backdrop paper, her sad eyes catching the flash of the
strobe lights. Rosalva slaps the child's face hard a couple of times to
shut her up.  Rosalva is cruel.  She hates the little girls the men buy -
pretty little girls.  Rosalva has never thought of herself as pretty.  But
she is - in a stark sort of way.  Tall and slender, her eyes like dark
pearls, her lips thin , stubborn and mean.  And she can turn on a sweet
motherly charm to play the role the men pay her to play at the airport and
in the dealings with the orphanages.  And as long as the applications are
filled out right and the money flows into the right hands no one asks any
questions. That's Rosalva's job. To make sure that everything goes smoothly
and that no one asks any questions. But sometimes, like now, Rosalva's work
makes her feel specially hateful. Certain little ones make her feel that
way. Hateful and needy all at the same time. Rosalva has needs she doesn't
always repress and Katya is bringing them out. In the bathroom, the little
girl whimpers and snivels pitifully as Rosalva scrapes her frail, pale nude
body with the hard-bristled brush, the woman gripping the child by her wet
hair to grind the cleaning tool roughly against her back and sides and
thighs, into the baby's soft little asscheeks.  Katya's cries echo in the
cavernous, tiled room.  The floor is a white and black checkerboard
pattern. The windows, as in most of the house, are sealed shut, the
temperature maintained by air-conditioning and heating units. Katya tries
to escape Rosalva's grip whinnying and stamping her little feet in the
antique style porcelain tub. "Callate, hija de puta!" Rosalva snarls
smacking the little girl hard enough to knock her against the wall. The
violence excites Rosalva.  She knows what the men will do with the little
girl though she has never been present in their orgies.  "Nyet!  Nyettt!"
Katya screams cowering back against the wall. Rosalva's eyes gleam
fiercely. She gets up off her knees and pulls her black t-shirt up over her
head, tosses it aside and reaches back to unhook her bra.  Her small plump
boobs bounce free.  She peels off her tight jeans and kicks off her leather
sandals. "Que no?  Hm!  Eso lo vamos a ver." Rosalva opens the cabinet
doors under the bathroom sink and takes a stretch of rope.  The child
screams in terror as the tall thin dark-skinned chicano woman steps into
the tub under the warm spray and reaches for her. The water makes Rosalva's
dark skin gleam in the glow of the overhead lights. "Quieta!  QUIETA!"
Rosalva shouts smacking Katya on the back of the head and wrenching the
child's arms back to tie her wrists together at the base of her spine. 
When she's done Rosalva pushes Katya down on her knees in front of her. 
The chicano woman spreads her legs apart, lifting one leg up on the side of
the tub, her unpainted toes curved over the edge, brown flesh against white
porcelain.  Grabbing the child's head she slams Katya's pretty face against
her dark hairy cunt. "Chupame la chocha, putica de mierda - anda - chupame
bien -" The warm shower water thrums on Rosalva's back and into her scalp
relaxing her. She thrusts her hips against the mewling child reaching down
when Katya's lips part to grab the little one's tongue between her
long-nailed fingers and draw her to her clit. "Aqui!  Usa la lengua!  Co¤o!
Usa la lengua, estupida!  aa-ahhhh - si - asi - cabrona - mas - co¤o - que
rico -" The child allows herself to be used by Rosalva, only guessing at
what is demanded of her.  Rosalva is gradually transformed - this is a side
she shows no one -long jet- black maned head tipping back - her face under
the pelting shower water her belly tightening as she senses the oncoming
orgasm.  Rosalva was raped by her father and her brothers as a child and
she has never had sex with a man - not since the age of fourteen when she
ran away to the United States.  She pulls the child's face away and slaps
her viciously again then returns Katya to her task.  Finally she shudders
and groans in obscene release, her mouth wide.  This is the only kind of
sexual contact she has now - this sadistic manipulative brutality with the
children she delivers to the men. Afterwards, she dries Katya and then
herself with thick white towels. She dries Katya's long hair with the blow
drier and wraps a towel around her own long wet mane. Katya is crying
softly, her face flushed dark red. "Shut up," Rosalva tells her without
even looking at her.  "It does no good to cry here." Still naked, still
warm with the aftershocks of orgasm Rosalva puts the black leather
dog-collar with the o-ring and the black wrist and ankle cuffs on Katya.
She leads the child into the bedroom past the open bathroom door. There is
a full-length mirror on the door and Rosalva sees herself - dark, slender,
the white towel like a turban on the top of her head - and Katya, head
downcast, small and white like a Boticelli cherub, the black bondage gear
only enhancing her vulnerable innocence.  Rosalva watches their reflections
as they pass. The image ripples through her and her pussy throbs needfully.
She makes Katya lie on the bed and she gets up on top of her straddling the
child's face.  Rosalva's moist feet sink into the bedquilt on either side
of Katya's head. She can watch herself in the mirror of the half open door.
She sits on the child's face. Katya makes gagging sounds as Rosalva presses
her drooling slit against the child's rosy face. "Shut up and eat me you
little shitt..." "Mamame," Rosalva growls gripping her knees, smearing
Katya's face with her swollen cunt.  "Uuhhhh - mamame - ahhhh - comeme -
cabrona - asi - abre la boca!  ahh - Open your fucking mouth!  Ahh si - si
- desgraciada...Open wide!" The men are going to kill you, Rosalva tells
Katya in her mind unwrapping the towel from her wet hair which flails her
shoulders as she shakes her head and smiles.  The men are going to break
your little cunt and cut you to pieces.  She tosses the towel aside and
looks at the digital clock on the night table.  Its four in the afternoon.
She has three hours to play with the baby before the men come. Growling
ferally she grinds her cunt into Katya's bawling face and closes her eyes.
   In the two years Rosalva has worked for the men she has had one wish
that has never been fulfilled.  She longs for it today more than ever. To
join them. To be there when the killing happens. When the children scream
their last and their souls leave their eyes. Trembling and gasping -
Rosalva orgasms again. The bed creaks under her shifting weight.
   2.
   Kirk gets there first. Kirk's a big man, six-three, two hundred and
sixty pounds. He long ago played football in college for Notre Dame but
these days he has no interest in legal sports - his interests have
evolved'. He has short-cropped brown hair and expensive taste in clothes.
He pulls his Jaguar into the rear carport behind the house leaving room for
the two vehicles that will come later and he enters the house through the
back door. The stairs creak under his weight. He can hear the child
whimpering up there in the room. That makes him smile. He opens the door
and is greeted by the sweet scent of the shower gel Rosalva uses on the
children. He's pretty sure Rosalva does things with the babies before she
leaves but he's never seen it.  It doesn't matter anyway.  Fuck it if she
does.  More power to er. "Hello, Katya," he says as he peels off his jacket
and tosses it on the chair. He stands across the room from the four year
old who is bound to the bedpost by a strand of chain clipped to the o-ring
in her dog collar.  Her little hands cuffed behind her. He's already hard
and ready to go, his slacks bulging as he unbuttons his shirt. "Ready for
playtime?" The child looks up at him fearfully.  She mutters something he
does not understand, a question. "Sorry, sweetie.  I don't speak Russian."
He's kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks. "Only English.  Too
bad for you..." He's pulling off his pants and briefs. The child has been
watching him and she starts to cry realizing this man has something
frighteningly cruel in mind for her.  Tears roll down her cheeks. Kirk
hangs his clothes up neatly in the closet by the door. "Mmmm," Kirk voices
as he crosses the room slowly toward her, naked, his bare feet cushioned by
the thick blue carpet.  "I love baby tears." He stands over her, pulls her
head up by her hair, her neck tugged by the chain as he dips down to rub
the tip of his cock into the moisture-stream moving down Katya's lovely
face.  His foreskin has already rolled back from the pink-red shaft meat.
"Just - fuckin' - love - em -" The child recoils from his pungent-smelling
member. He unclips the chain from the bedpost and pulls Katya toward the
mattress as he climbs on to the bed. The quilt is moist under him. Rosalva,
he thinks, smiling as he pulls the child up on the mattress and makes her
crawl toward him. Katya is babbling again. He loves the begging look on her
face. He loves the helplessness. She's three and a half feet tall, maybe
forty pounds, her hands cuffed behind her. He's a big man with a big cock
ready to do some damage. There is a neutral expression on his face, coldly
predatorial as he forces Katya to lie down across the quilt. He pulls her
legs open to look at the hairless muff-slit, beautiful pink meat, his cock
surging. "Very nice, little girl," he grunts.  "Very fuckin' nice." She
tries to close up her legs but he slaps them open and sinks down to push
his face against her baby pussy and thrust his tongue into it hungry for
her. Katya screams and whines and kicks her hard little heels against the
big cruel man's back. Above her in the ceiling an expensive chandelier
casts light down into the room. The large windows are all sealed and
covered with drapes. Kirk grips Katya's cuffed ankles and spreads her legs
wide as he pushes them back up against her flat chest effortlessly. He
licks, kisses and nibbles the sweet smooth bun of girlmeat.  He thrusts his
tongue into the tight crevice and pushes his nose into it tasting and
smelling the hot babycunt.  He licks at the back of her smooth thighs and
at the inside of her legs.  He kneels over her to bite her feet, sinking
his teeth into her toes, making her cry shrilly and struggle weakly in his
grip. "We're gonna tear you apart, sweetie," he tells her knowing she
doesn't understand him but watching her react with horror to the tone in
his voice. He shoves his hand up against her lips. "Lick!  Lick you stupid
little bitch!" Finally realizing what the stranger wants Katya opens her
small mouth. Kirk thrusts his hairy fingers almost down her throat making
her choke. The smell of his expensive cologne makes her dizzy.  It envelops
her as he looms over her. He takes his hand wet with her saliva One by one
he thrusts his digits up her tight baby rectum. "Gonna open you up,
skagmeat," he tells her bluntly.  "Open you up for my friends..." Katya
remembers the photographer in Moscow, back home, before the plane and the
long trip, before the dark woman who bathed her and hit her and used her.
The photographer touched her and fondled her but it was different. He had
been sweet and gentle with her.  He'd given her candy and warm chocolate
afterwards.  This man pushing his fingers into her now was scary.  Where
had the dark woman brought her?  Katya had no idea where she was.  She'd
fallen asleep in the plane, awoken in a strange land surrounded by
strangers.  What words were these people saying.  She couldn't understand
or grasp any of it.  She was in the throes of mindless infantile terror. 
She cried and pleaded with the man but he didn't understand and didn't
care, he only pushed his fingers one by one into her, deeper and deeper up
her caca hole, hurting her and enjoying it. Now she saw his fingers were
smeared with poo-poo and he brought them back up to her mouth. She shook
her head. He held her still. "Don't you fuckin' say no to me, you little
fuckk!" "Lick!" he snarled at her.  "Lick!" She knew what he wanted now and
she cried and kicked for a few seconds but finally she opened her mouth. He
smiled watching her gag on the taste of her own faeces. "Yeahh -That's
right - good girl - lick it all up - yeahh - choke on it, you little
shiteater." When she was done his hand slid down her chest, squeezed and
pinched her pink nipples as she sobbed softly, moved down her belly,
prodded her tiny belly button, a delicious little inny-dip, moved down over
the halved female flesh and again against her dark pink anal indentation.
She felt him now push two fingers against her tight sphincter. Her eyes
pleaded with his, wide, mahogany brown. "Nyet!" she blurted weakly. 
"N-nyet!" "Fuck you," he spat and gripping her by her hair he shoved his
thumb and forefinger into her asshole. The child's scream tore through the
house.
   3.
   Allen and Woodson arrived together in a rented black Lincoln Navigator.
By then it was dark and the Navigator's headlights shone off the back of
Kirk's Jaguar. It was chilly and the ground was littered with dead leaves.
The tall unkempt grass in the yard had dried up and it stood up in dead
brown stalks. "Can't wait to put my cock in that tight baby pussy," Woodson
said as he followed Allen to the back door of the house. They'd both seen
the pictures of Katya the photographer in Moscow had taken as well as a
video-clip of their baby in a skimpy two piece bathing suit playing in a
sandbox. "You know it," Allen said turning the key in the heavy lock. As
the door swung open they heard the shrill cries of the child coming from
upstairs. "Shit," Woodson commented.  "Sounds like we're just in time."
"Yeahh - sounds like he's got er all warmed up." Kirk always got there
first and always paved the way for them.  Woodson sometimes envied Kirk the
advantage of being first, although he was pretty sure Rosalva was really
the first one to the cookie jar.  Like Allen and Kirk, Woodson suspected
that Rosalva didn't really stick to the narrow definition of her duties
with the babies.  By the same token it was nice to come into a situation
where the little ones were already suffering and already opened up for
brutal penetration. When they entered the bedroom the two men were greeted
by an arousing sight. Kirk had hung little Katya in the bathroom doorway
suspended by her cuffed wrists from opposite sides of the door frame to
metal hooks placed there for just such a purpose.  The hooks were high up
on the frame and the little bitch hung slightly above her tormentor, her
ankle cuffs also clipped to hooks lower down on the frame.  Kirk had a long
wooden dowel in his hand and Katya's little legs and thighs were streaked
with bright red welts.  He'd obviously been caning her and caning her hard.
"Ah," Kirk commented when he saw his companions.  "Glad you could make it."
He was stroking himself, his cock stiff and upwardly arched. "Just breaking
ground for you fellas.  Like always." At that he swung the wooden dowel
hard across Katya's white belly. The child tossed her head back and let out
a piercing cry. Allen and Woodson were already excitedly stripping off
their clothes. Again Kirk swung and the wooden cane whapped viciously
across both of Katya's thighs. "I've poked her ass a bit with my fingers,"
Kirk told his companions as he swung the rod brutally across Katya's
nipples.  "Made er lick em clean of course." As the captive child railed
wildly her arms and legs waggled against the hooks in the doorframe, metal
clicking loudly against metal. " - but her cunt is untouched." Again he
swung, this time slicing across her right ankle, half and inch above the
black cuff.  Katya squealed and pulled toward the left as if trying to flee
from the sharp pain. " - well - not completely untouched - I did get a
taste..." Kirk swung the rod across Katya's other leg. After the child's
scream died down to sobbing whimpers he finished: "- if you guys had taken
too much longer I would've probably started porking this little baby shit
for all she's worth." The men chuckled. "I'm serious.  She's a sweet piece
of baby meat." For a few moments Allen and Woodson watched Kirk strike a
few more cruel blows with the wooden dowel.  They jerked off as they
watched.  Since Allen and Woodson payed heftier shares than Kirk on the
property and on the acquisition of the girl children the arrangement was
that they got to bust cherry first.  Kirk's role was to prepare the little
sluts for his cohorts, a role in which Rosalva was also participating with
the tacet approval of all involved.  Allen and Woodson enjoyed the
arrangement.  Luscious little Katya, like all previous victims, was going
to be theirs - warmed up nice - softened up and crying - vulnerable and
suffering - just the way they liked it. "Here," Kirk said to Allen handing
him the wooden dowel.  "Take a few shots. Enjoy her." Allen took up the
position Kirk had just left. "Hmmm -" he said studying the suspended child.
"You haven't whipped that little twat yet, have you?" he asked. "No," Kirk
replied.  "Didn't fuck it - didn't whip it.  Savin' the best for you, like
always.  But I'll tell you what.  When you guys are through with your DP,
if you haven't killed er I'm gonna put my fist in there.  All the fuckin'
way in there.  In both those little holes." "S fine with me," Woodson said.
"Shit yeah," Allen added.  "Sounds groovy." "Good -" Kirk said.  "Now why
don't you beat that little meat and make it hurt." "May I?" Allen asked his
two companions who now stroked their cocks in unison. "Absolutely," Woodson
told him.  "Beat the blood out of er," "Yeah," Kirk added.  "Its nice to
fuck babypussy when its all bloody." Allen reached out and gently caressed
Katya's flushed little cooze.  He wanted to feel it before he beat it.  He
stroked it looking into the teary eyes of his victim and licking his lips.
Then, with devastating aim he struck five times in rapid succession across
the Russian orphan's bald babyslit leaving dark red weltlines across her
pale skin, making her jump and shriek in the doorframe while Kirk and
Woodson watched smiling. Woodson then took the rod and gave her five more
on her cunt and six across her belly and flat titties, right across both
ruby-red nipples. Allen took the dowel again and put seven more on her
cunt. By the time Woodson took the rod to her again her pussy was already
crying pearl-shaped blood tears down her thighs and Katya was on the verge
of passing out, nearly unresponsive. "Let's fuck er now, man," Woodson said
after the tenth cut across Katya's thighs. "Let's fuck the goddamn shit out
of this little bitch before she fucking faints."
   4.
   Kirk flipped a coin to see who would bust cherry. That was the way it
was always decided. Woodson won.  Katya's virginity would be his.  Allen
shrugged off his disappointment.  He knew he would be second in line. Kirk
couldn't care less; he knew he'd get some eventually.  He was fine with the
arrangement.  All three of them would get plenty from the little Russian
princess in the long haul.  Kirk enjoyed the torturing more than the raping
anyway. He hoisted Katya off the door frame and tossed her effortlessly on
to the bed on her back.  As the cane-welted child lay there in a daze he
raised her arms and clipped her cuffed wrists to hooks in the bedposts and
her collar to the strand of chain that he pulled up from where it had
fallen, behind the edge of the mattress. Allen and Kirk pulled up a couple
of upholstered chairs on either side of the bed. Kirk lit up a joint, Allen
just sat on the edge of his chair slowly stroking his fierce erection. 
Both men enjoyed watching almost as much as participating. Woodson stood by
the bed preparing himself, wanking on his ten inch organ and cupping his
balls. "Open er up nice," Allen told him.  "I don't want to have to work
too hard when we DP her." "Yeah and I don't wanna sweat the fisting
either," Kirk added. "I hear ya.  Guess I'll be doin' most of the hard work
tonight," Woodson said and walked to the night table by the bed to open the
drawer.  He took a small bottle of baby oil and poured a couple of squirts
of the cool colorless fluid on his cock rubbing it slowly back and forth
until his shaft gleamed slickly.  "Mmm - most of the hard fuckin' work..."
"Yeah, right,"Kirk commented.  "My heart bleeds." Woodson sneered then
turned to squirt thick spurts of baby oil on Katya's belly. The child
whimpered.  The fluid felt icy on her skin.  She looked up at Woodson as he
put the bottle aside and climbed on to the bed on his knees rocking the
mattress with his bulk. He pulled her legs apart by the thighs and told the
men on either side of the bed: "Hold er." Kirk and Allen reached out, each
taking one of Katya's skinny cuffed ankles while Woodson massaged the oil
into the child's little slit and down between her buttocks.  He did it
roughly, pushing his fingers into Katya's vulnerable apertures, working the
oil into her, relishing the sensation of her whipped vulva against the palm
of his slimy hand.  He was an absolute pedophile and nothing pleased him
more than the feel of a baby girl's warm hairless sex organ and tight
little rectum. The child tried to close her legs but the men on either side
held her easily, Kirk puffing on his joint, his eyes slitted, Allen licking
his lips as he watched Woodson's hand moving over Katya's private parts.
"This one's gonna be super-tight,"Woodson said softly.  "Just the way I
like em." He crawled up closer to Katya and put his cock to her small
cunt-hole. "Aren't you sweetie?  Mm - hmmmm...Yes you are." Then to his
companions:
   "Spread er open a bit more." Katya mewled like a kitten as her legs were
pulled outward. "Yeahh -"Woodson growled.  "That's nice.  Perfect." "Break
the little whore," Allen told him gruffly.  He envied Woodson the
opportunity of such small virgin meat.  "Break er nice for us." Kirk just
looked on dreamily as Woodson rubbed the head of his immense oil- slicked
baby-breaking prick against the child's hairless slit. Woodson was a hulk
of a man, taller than Kirk by a full inch and though not as muscular as the
ex-football player certainly imposing and fit for a fifty two year old man.
Katya looked diminutive in comparison lying there under the bald-headed
killer and that added to the sadistic pleasure of the men.  None of the
killers was short in stature.  At six-two and two hundred and thirty pounds
Allen was the shortest.  All three men worked out and kept themselves in
top physical shape specially in preparation for these episodes at the house
outside Orchidea. The killers were powerful predators and the smaller their
victim the more they enjoyed the takedown. Katya was one of the youngest
and smallest they'd had in a while. Sweet babymeat fuel for their fire. The
child's mewling sounds turned into short breathless cries as Woodson's cock
now pushed down against her immature love-hole. She looked up at her
attackers, arms flung wide, the chain on her collar rattling against the
wooden headboard as she turned her head from side to side. Their slack
features and slitted evil eyes glared hungrily.  Katya didn't understand
what was happening or where she was - only that these men would have no
mercy and no pity for her.  She began to plead with them in Russian and
they just smiled. Woodson's weight shifted and made the bed under her move
and his thing pushed into her like a wooden stake. "Aww," Woodson growled
smiling, bringing his hands up to Katya's shoulders to lean down on the
child and press her to the mattress as he thrust his oily cock hard against
her underdeveloped vagina.  "Isn't she the cutest goddamn thing - I wonder
what the fuck she's sayin'..." "Who cares what she's sayin'," Kirk sneered
cruelly.  He was looking up at the child's foot as he gripped the ankle,
holding the lit joint in his free hand. "Who the fuck gives a shit." Kirk
brought the fiery tip of the marijuana cig to the sole of Katya's foot and
the child howled in response. "Yeahh," Woodson sneered watching Kirk as he
sucked on the joint and brought it back to Katya's kicking foot.  "Burn the
little fuck..." As the joint hissed into Katya's big toe, Woodson's head
swung back to stare down at the screaming child. He smiled darkly and with
a hard in-thrust of his hips he drove the head of his cock into the child's
vulva. Her scream turned into a wild screech. Kirk burned Katya's foot a
couple of more times then passed the joint to Allen on the other side. As
Woodson continued to slow-force his massive cock-meat up the child's baby
cunt Allen took a couple of hits on the joint and burned Katya's toes and
heel and pressed the lit cig into her calf and against the top of her foot
and against her knee. The mattress creaked under Woodson's weight and the
bluish smoke from the joint rose slowly toward the chandelier as the men
watched the savage rape of the Russian orphan all of them slightly high on
the rich pungent smell of the weed. After a while the cig was down to ashes
and Woodson's cock was half-way in. "Can you feel the hymen?" Allen asked
watching the penetration intently. "Feel it - shitt," Woodson replied. 
"I'm in it man.  I'm right in it." "Pound your cock in there," Kirk urged.
"Slam the little shit." "Bust her open," Allen added, his pupils fully
dilated.  "Bust all the way through." Allen and Kirk now both jerked off on
either side of the bed sitting up in their chairs still holding Katya's
cuffed legs open as Woodson began to plunge down with all his weight
pounding the child into the bed. Dark blood began to bubble up from around
the edges of the child's stuffed babyhole and her screams were short and
shrill. "Ahhh yeahhh," Woodson growled.  "I'm through guys.  She's done. 
Time to do the other hole." The killer slid out and pushed the head of his
prick to Katya's little asshole gouging it with his thumb before attempting
penetration.  The child quieted down sobbing, eyes closed, her pretty face
covered with a sheen of sweat. "This is gonna be reeal sweet..." he voiced
dreamily as he felt the inside of her rectum.  "Reeal fuckin' sweet..." He
leaned down to lick the sweat off her cheeks and forehead. "I think we're
gonna end up dissecting this little bunny," Allen commented, his eyes
riveted to Woodson's massive cock poised for anal piercing. "I think you're
right," Kirk asserted, also staring at Woodson's formidable prick as the
killer worked his thumb around inside Katya.  "But we should take her to
hell and back before that..." "You know it," Allen replied. "To hell and
back," Woodson said slipping his thumb out of his victim's tight sphincter.
"Mmmm - yeahh - I like that." He positioned himself against Katya's
bunghole.  "You can let go of her legs now.  I got er." Woodson took Katya
by her calves and raised her slightly up off the bed as he knelt over her.
His hands moved up to her thighs and he began to draw the child up toward
him, stretching her, cuffed wrists trapped against the headboard, chain
pulling on her neck.  "To hell and back," he said again now pressing into
Katya's poop hole - "To hell and back - ohh yesss - I really fucking like
that...How bout you, Katya?  You like that too?  Huh?  You like that? 
Fuckin' little whorrrre!!" As he thrust into the child Katya screeched
again and tossed her head from side to side.  Kirk and Allen now stood up
on either side of the bed jerking off and watching.  The screams of their
victim thrilled the predators.  This above all is what they enjoyed doing -
this was their life's calling. Brutally, Woodson thrust his huge prick into
Katya's vulnerable little asshole. If it wasn't for Kirk's initial pokes,
Woodson's recent gropings and the baby oil the penetration would have been
impossible.  As it was it felt to Katya as if she was being split open,
ripped apart.  Woodson didn't think he'd get further than a couple of
inches but he grunted and huffed pounding into the child, holding her
steady until half his cock, a good solid five inches of man meat had
violated her. "You little bitchhh!" he roared. Allen and Kirk urged him on
as he pile-drove another inch into Katya.  He was almost up in her colon. A
bit further and he would kill her.  Unwillingly he slid out of her and sat
back on his haunches. "DP time," he snarled. "Yeahh!" Allen shouted
eagerly. This was what he'd been waiting for. Kirk reached down and
unclipped the wrist cuffs from the headboard and released the chain from
Katya's collar. Grabbing the child by the hair he pulled her to the edge of
the bed.s She was sobbing and choking and blood was pouring out of her
violated holes on to the quilt and smearing the inside of her thighs.
"You're making a mess, pig!" Kirk shouted and slapped Katya hard across the
face. Woodson and Allen laughed as Kirk yanked Katya off the bed and
dragged her by her hair to the chair they always used, the big easy chair
on the other side of the room by the door. Woodson made his way across the
room and sat down in it. Kirk hoisted Katya up on his lap. Woodson grabbed
the child by her hips and put his cock up to her asshole. She struggled
briefly until Kirk slapped her again and then punched her in the belly. As
Woodson ground himself up into the child he seized Katya's thighs, pulled
her legs up and back and then called out to Allen. "Come and get it," he
said. Allen didn't need much encouragement. When Woodson's cock was up into
the wailing child's rectum Allen put his own nine-inch meat to her already
violated and cane-welted baby-pussy. "Ready or not," he growled grabbing
Katya's head by her ears.  "Here I come." The double penetration of the
child, the DP the men had been talking about, was now under way. Katya held
on to the armrests of the chair as the big men growled and plowed into her.
Woodson had her by her shoulders and he was thrusting upward making her
bounce.  Allen had her by the ears as he groaned and drove his prick inward
into her oil-slimed and bloody cooze-hole. Woodson sank his teeth into her
shoulders and back as he fucked the helpless child and Allen leaned down to
bite her lips and cheeks and earlobes. "Ahhh yeahhh -"Allen groaned
passionately, his hips grinding and thrusting. "Ahhhh yeahh - yeahhh -
yeahhh - this is fuckin' heaven...fuckin' little bbitchhh..." "Fuck er!"
Kirk urged his friends.  "Fuck the little shit!  Fuck er until she can't
walk anymore!  Fuck the goddamn crap out of er!" Katya almost disappeared
visually between the two big men.  All Kirk could see were her little hands
clinging desperately to the chair arms and her feet, burn- marked by the
marijuana joint now kicking out on either side of Allen's arms.  The two
killers were grinding her between them, crushing the child in a thrusting
embrace.  They were a living mass of sweating muscular manflesh intent on
pounding into the hapless orphan, of giving her all they could muster, all
the sexual violence pent up inside them now expending itself on the object
of their desire.  The chair creaked noisily and its legs dug into the
carpeted floor. Woodson continued to bite the child hard, leaving
teeth-marks on her.  Allen had taken to spitting in her mouth as she wailed
and occasionally letting go of one ear to slap her resoundingly across her
bawling face. "Ahhh godd-dammn!" Woodson suddenly shouted gripping Katya by
the scruff of her neck.  "Gonna cummm - uhhh!  uhhhh!" "Yeahh!" Kirk
shouted jerking off, watching his companions double fuck the luckless
infant.  "Yeahh.  Do it!  Do it!  Fill her little ass all up!"
"Annhhhhhhrrhhhhhh!" Woodson shouted arching his back, his rump coming up
off the chair seat.  He went in almost to the hilt in the child. Allen
plunged inward two more times before he too began to shout and stiffen.
"Yeaahhhh!" Allen bellowed.  "Ohhh shittt yeaahhhh!" Now both men pumped
hot gobs of sperm into their four year old victim and soon it dribbled and
oozed out of her as they continued to pound her breathless, slower and
slower gradually, less and less until Allen stepped back and let Katya
topple off Woodson's strong thighs to the floor at their feet. "Not quite
done yet, sweetie," Kirk growled bending to hoist Katya up, half dragging
her back to the bed by her long brown hair.  "Not quite yet." He tossed her
back up on the toussled quilt and she lay there motionless as he squirted
baby oil on his fisted-up hand. "Not quite yet..." he muttered to himself.
"Goddamn," Woodson grunted smiling, still sitting in the chair, jizz oozing
from his still tumescent blood-smeared prick on to his thigh. Allen sat on
one of the empty chairs by the bed to watch. "That might just kill her," he
told Kirk. Kirk massaged the oil into his fist and forearm. "Too bad if it
does," he said.  "You've had your fun.  Now I'm gonna take mine." He got up
on the bed and sat on Katya's face grinding his balls and his asshole
against the child's whimpering mouth then leaning forward he spread her
legs open and slipped them under his armpits as he put his fist to her
violated pussy slit. "Mmm - that feels sweet - ohh - haven't had a baby's
mouth on my balls for a while now - how long since the last one?" "Three
months,"Allen replied watching raptly. "Ahh - yeah - three months is just -
too - fuckin' - long - Here it comes Katya dear.  Here comes my fist, you
stupid little Russian fuck!" Kirk arched, closed his eyes as if he were
listening to distant pleasing music, smiling as he pushed three greased
fingers into Katya's violated pussy.  As the child screamed and wheezed
into his balls he forced his fist up to his wrist in her then he began to
fuck her with it. "Jee-sus," Woodson sighed. "Give er hell, guy," Allen
added. Kirk sank his weight down against Katya's face, suffocating her as
he rammed his fist in and out of her torn vaginal opening.  He now looked
down at the meat he was punishing and he huffed and grunted angrily -
yanked his fist out of the child - punched it back into her - drew it out
again - punched it in again - worked her with it - rubbed his asshole
against her nose - drew his fist out and thrust his fingers slowly into her
asshole - "Open up for me -" he growled viciously.  "Open up your little
poop-hole you stinking waif!  Ahh yesss - that's better -" As she relaxed
her anal muscle involuntarily Katya flailed her little arms, her cuffed
wrists, against the killer's sides but he barely felt her as he thrust his
fist to the knuckles in her red bleeding anus. "Put it all the way up in
there," Allen voiced hoarsely.  "All the fuckin' way." Katya's piercing
cries were completely choked off under Kirk's smothering weight but he
could feel the attenuated vibrations against his scrotum as he now pushed
his fist up her intestinal track.  When he was as far as he could go he
began working it, just like he'd done with her pussy.  He was fist-fucking
the child for all she could give - in deep then almost all the way out -
pounding - slamming it into her.  He pressed his balls against her eyes and
felt the tingling of oncoming orgasm rushing up his shaft.  He tore his
fist out of her and punched it back into her little cunt - tore it back out
and punched it as hard as he could into her anus.  Katya bucked and kicked
against him, her heels trapped in his armpits.  He drew his blood-smeared
fist from the screaming child and swiveled around to jerk off, crouching
over her. She tried to get up and he took her by her throat and pressed her
down choking her and keeping her still as cum began to explode from his
prick.  He aimed and squeezed his cock tightly as he came to keep the cum
from shooting out. "Uhhhh!  Yee-aahh!" he shouted as the orgasm roared
through him.  He held his cum chute pinched shut as long as he could and
when it seemed the pleasure would blow the top of his head off he released
thick high-pressure jets of manscum into Katya's mouth, into her cheeks and
eyes, into her hair, swatting away her hands as she tried to cover her
face. "Lie still, bitch!  LIE STILL!" He drenched the four year old with
with his cum which pooled gelatinously in her eyehollows and dribbled down
her cheeks and into her hair.  She choked and jissom bubbled up out of her
nostrils. "Drown in it you little shit," he growled meanly.  Then he slid
back off the bed still holding her by the throat, lifting her off the bed
by her neck, holding her up in the air.  She coughed, choked and sputtered
and he raised her high, she clinging to his arm - he raised her up until
his arm was fully extended, and just stared at her, smiling, enjoying the
moment.  Then, with brutal conviction, he swung her around and flung her
against the wall. Woodson and Allen cheered raucously as Katya slammed into
the masonry and fell between the wall and the bed with a loud thunk, the
air knocked out of her.  Kirk kicked her out into the middle of the room
and they stood over her watching her regain her breath.  She tried to crawl
away but Kirk pressed his foot against the back of her neck and held her to
the floor. Blood, spit and cum oozed from her mouth and face on to the
carpet. "Get the tasers, Woodson," Kirk sneered, looking down on the
wriggling infant. "Let's take little orphan Annie to the next level."
   5.
   There is no one to defend Katya from them.  No parents.  No guardians.
No legal system.  She has been bought and paid for - sweet, bruised,
violated orphan childmeat for the baby killers. They surround her in the
bathroom each man gripping his own weapon - tasers fully charged and
operational. She hangs in midair for them from a pulley hooked to the
ceiling, by a stretch of rope looped killingly tight around one wrist, one
arm stretched upward, the other wrist cinched to her thigh and she rotates
slowly, sobbing and pleading with them in words they can't understand. They
watch her and enjoy her suffering, slow-stroking themselves. The suffering
of this lovely one-arm-hung child is so deliciously pure and unequivocal.
Except for Katya's voice and the intermittent dripping sound of the faucet
in the tub, which has for some time needed a new washer, the large bathroom
is quiet. Katya can hear the flesh on flesh sound of the men masturbating
themselves, a hypnotic see-sawing motion of their strong forearms, and she
sees the black objects in their free hands.  Tiny pearls of blood snake
ticklingly down the inside of her thighs from her fist-raped sexhole and
rectum.  She hurts and aches and the ropes that bind her wrists, one arm
down the other one up have choked off the circulation in her limbs.  She
doesn't know why but the men seem to feast on her suffering, to gather
strength and pleasure from it.  She opens and closes her hands and they
tingle numbly. She pedals her legs in the air and when the soles of her
feet lift back the reddish burns left by the marijuana cigarette are
visible on the furrowed skin as well as on her calves and shins.  The welts
of the wooden dowel too are etched on her pale skin criss-crossing her
belly and chest, darker across her chubby hairless mound and thighs. There
are dark contusions on her face and belly from the blows of the killers.
Eventually she hangs there sobbing and whining no longer saying anything,
revolving slowly looking into the faces of her killers with her wide brown
doe eyes as she swivels counter-clockwise and they close in on her, their
bare feet slithering on the tiled floor. She knows they are going to hurt
her again and a small whining sound begins in her throat as she bites her
lip and winces with anticipation. Kirk's weapon touches her first, just
below her ribcage. There's a loud buzzing snap followed by the child's keen
sharp cry. Woodson and then Allen press their tasers into her belly.
Katya's legs kick out wildly and she twists and jerks on the rope, circling
in the opposite direction tossing her head back to wail with all the power
in her lungs. Her bowels tighten and contract in reaction to the shocks and
she farts. Small bits of bloody faeces spurt from her asshole and stick to
her legs. The men laugh. The black things the men press against her burn
and sting like nothing she's ever felt or imagined. Her screams please the
brutal sadists and they continue to take turns on her. Woodson pushes his
taser against one delicate cherry-red nipple. Allen into the other. Kirk
puts it to her pussy mound and squeezes the trigger then pulls it away. The
men wait and watch the pain and torment work tear through the four year
old. This is what they like to see. When she hangs limply gasping for air
they move in again. "Bitch!" Allen growls.  He likes to punish little girls
- like his companions he hates them with his whole being - loves to see
them pay. He presses his taser hard against her lower back and presses the
trigger. Woodson is in front of her watching the contorted agony on her
face and as Allen holds his taser against her Woodson presses his into her
lower belly. The men are careful to avoid their victim's little legs as
they kick out in all directions.  Now and then one of them does come in
contact with Katya inadvertently, cursing as electrical sparks from the
child's flailing limbs race across sweaty flesh and dissipate. "Watch your
balls!" Kirk shouts.  "That shit hurts." As Woodson and Allen pull back
Kirk thrusts his taser against her left thigh. He jerks off as she suffers
for him.  After a few seconds he withdraws. Again they give her a breather.
Then all three of them press their weapons into the helpless infant and
hold them there, caressing her with the crackling, buzzing taser-heads.
Bluish sparks explode on Katya's smooth skin and her hair frizzes as the
electrical bolts move up and down her swiveling suspended body. The men
hold their tasers against the child until spittle bubbles on her lips and
her eyes roll back in her screaming head. This time when they stop she's
almost unconscious. Shit and piss squirt from her and spatter the floor.
"Just one more," Kirk snarls and he pushes his taser right up against her
baby cunt right into the bruised swollen slithole. Katya bounces like an
unhinged puppet, her head falling forward, a plume of frothy vomit
dribbling from her lips. When he pulls back the child just hangs inertly.
"She's out," Woodson states flatly.  Allen goes to the washbasin takes a
glass and fills it with water; he returns and splashes it in the four year
old's face. Katya shudders and revives with a mournful whimper. She looks
up at her tormentors, wide-mouthed. "Beautiful," Woodson comments.  He
pulls his cock upward and backward to press its hot crown against his
belly. "Let's give er more," Kirk snarls moving in. The snarling crackling
buzz of the discharging tasers and the choked screams of the little girl
fill the room and echo through the house. This time the men do not pull
away until she's silent and motionless. Another glass of water is chucked
on her and as she comes around, her hair clinging to her wet cheeks, her
crying eyes slitted, the merciless torture resumes. After nearly an hour of
the gruesome assault the killers are ready for harsher work.  They put down
the tasers. Woodson gets the beating sticks from the cabinet in the hall
and passes them out. On one end the half-inch thick sticks bristle with
several tiny framing nails driven through so that just the spiky tips
protrude from the handle. "Let's get this baby bloody," Allen growls as the
men circle their defenseless target and step back to give themselves
striking room. All three of them swing their weapons simultaneously.
Woodson's stick finds the sides of Katya's flailing shit-smeared legs; Kirk
whacks her belly and mons; Allen slashes at her back and buttcheeks and as
the bawling child swivels in tortuous suspension each killer find new
targets. The beating excites them even more than the electrocution. The
meaty sounds of the blows and the desperate cries of the orphan are
exquisite. They wack at her ankles hard trying to break her legs and
Katya's screams climb into intolerable shrillness - inaudible beyond the
soundproof walls. The framing nails tear into the child's silky skin,
piercing, cutting, hashing wherever they fall. The men take turns, two of
them holding Katya's legs wide open while the third swings his barbed
punishment stick up from the ground and into her violated, taser-burned
twat sometimes prodding her urine-soaked slit with the nail- ridden tip of
the weapon, sometimes forcing it into the child's cunthole or asshole
between swats. Katya's blood spatters the checkered tiles on the floor.
Releasing her the men let her dangle. She gasps for breath between screams.
The men whip their sticks against her upstretched arm. Wood snaps harshly
against bone. Nails tear at the tender forearm gougig the downy skin,
leaving tiny wounds and blood dripping through the sparse fuzz of hair.
Blood spatters Katya's face. One of the sticks finds the palm of her hand.
Another, her forehead. "I wanna fuck er again," Woodson grunts. "Yeahh,"
Kirk asserts. The men swat at the back of Katya's head unforgivingly until
she's dizzy. Blood streams down her neck and down her back. "Fuckin' little
shitt," Allen growls. He beats her asscheeks and the soles of her little
feet as they kick back. "Let's do er on the floor." "Nah," Woodson says. 
"Let's do er while she hangs.  We'll take turns. One of us fucks er the
other two beat er." "Ahh yeahh," Allen nods smiling.  "You go first,"
Woodson tells him. Allen swings Katya around to face him dropping his stick
by his feet, grabbing her ankles to spread her legs open. Kirk and Woodson
watch as he puts his enormous prick to her beaten sex. "Here ya go
babycakes," he snarls staring into Katya's vanquished eyes. The child's
mouth gapes and a shivering cry erupts from her as Allen pushes his manmeat
brutally into her baby cooze. "Put it ALL in there," Kirk shouts. As Allen
begins to grind his hips Woodson and Kirk begin to whip Katya's back with
their wooden sticks. The child's legs wrap around Allen's hips and the
killer's hands grip her tightly, one on the upraised arm the other on her
tiny bleeding shoulder. He moves massively and gracefully against the
punished orphan, tilting his head back with pleasure, timing the thrusts of
his hips to the swatting rhythm of the beating sticks. The framing nails
tear the screaming four year old's back, cutting, scraping, piercing. "My
turn," Woodson growls. Allen steps back and picks up his stick to trade
positions with Woodson, his cock slimed with Katya's blood and with her
piss. Woodson leans in close to the suffering child's face. He holds his
own stick up to her. "In your mouth," he growls.  "Take it in your fuckin'
mouth!" He presses against Katya's lips until she finally understands his
intention and opens her mouth to grip the blood-smeared dowel in her tiny
teeth. "Good girl...now see if you remember this..." Woodson puts his cock
up against her little asshole. Katya's eyes open wide. "Yes you do - of
course you do." Gripping the child's hips he squeezes his massive penis
into her. "Beat her!" he tells his companions. "Beat the shit out of the
little whore!  Rip her to pieces!" Allen and Kirk begin a savage tattoing
of Katya's already welt-ridden, blood-striped back as the big man takes his
pleasure. The child screams and bites into the wooden stick in her mouth.
After a few minutes they know it is Kirk's turn. Woodson steps back and
takes his stick from Katya.  He has to pry it from her lips. Blood and shit
drool from the little girl's asshole. Her head slumps down, her chin
against her neck. "You gonna take er up the ass or in her cunt?" Woodson
asks Kirk. "Neither...Let er down on her knees..." "Yeahhh..." Allen says,
understanding Kirk's intention.  "Ohh fuck yeahh...You want the O ring?"
"You better believe it.  I don't need this puppy biting my pecker off
tonight." The men chuckle. Allen goes into the bedroom and gets the metal O
ring gag from a drawer in the dresser. Woodson reaches up to release the
pulley on the rope that Katya dangles on slowly giving it slack, and
between him and Kirk they let the four year old down to the floor on her
knees. Kirk strokes himself, stands over the kneeling child. Allen returns,
takes the child's head by her long dark hair, yanking it back. "Open your
fuckin' mouth," he growls.  "Come on bitch.  Your MOUTH!" He pushes his
thumb past her chubby gaping lips and forces her mouth open shoving the O
ring gag in, wrapping the leather strap around her head buckling it tightly
at the back of her neck. "ggaaahhh -" Katya voices.  "agg -gaaa -
agghhh..." "That's right,"Woodson tells her bending over her.  "You're
gonna get a BIG helping of man meat, sweetiepie." Kirk takes her by a clump
of hair, holds her effortlessly. His breath is deep and steady. "I'm gonna
cum in her throat," he tells his companions.  "Why don't you two beat her
little feet bloody - just her little feet - you know?  Tear em up.  I love
to see that shit happen.  It gets me off." Woodson crouches next to Katya
to caress the child's footsoles which are upturned as she kneels, sobbing
quietly, her head tilted back, her eyes staring up into Kirk's savage
lust-distorted face. "Yeah," Woodson mutters dreamily as his fingers stroke
the welted, pierce- wounded skin.  Katya quivers in response to the
killer's touch.  "I like the idea - but we need to tie her ankles or she'll
kick her legs away." "Shit," Allen says.  "Let's do it, man.  Let's tie er
up and break those little tootsies.  Smash em to a fuckin' pulp." Kirk
watches them bind Katya's ankles cruelly together.  She still hangs by one
battered bloody arm from the rope. The killer strokes himself then moves in
as his companions take up their beating sticks. "Here it comes, babycakes.
Prime grade A beef..." He rubs his cockhead on her cheeks as she blubbers,
her jaw stretched wide by the ring in her mouth. The O ring stretches her
lips nearly two inches apart turning her mouth into a perfect
silver-dollar-sized fuckhole. Kirk rubs his cockslit all around that soft
circle and against her nostrils and into her eyelids. Firmly, in both
hands, he grips the sides of her head. "Go ahead," he tells Allen and
Woodson who drop down on one knee on either side of Katya's small bound
legs.  "Rip her little tootsies apart." Kirk looks into Katya's eyes as the
beating sticks fall across her little feet. He loves the pain and horror he
sees there.  He loves the energy that comes through the child's body in
response to the atrocious punishment and he revels in it for a few moments
before planting the head of his prick against her stretched-open mouth.
"Here it comes, you little worm...Swallow me..." "Fuck her face," Woodson
snarls.  "Fuck it good." Little Katya is lifted slightly off her knees and
her screams are muffled by the penetration of Kirk's swollen jumbo sized
prick. The beating sticks smack against her feet, heels and calves and make
a hard bright thumping sound against the tiled floor. The tiny nails gash
the tender soles and the bottoms of her toes. Thump and wack. Thump and
wack. Repetitive, vicious, relentless, pounding, unforgiving. Woodson and
Allen alternating - right foot - left foot - right foot - left foot. They
got a nice rhythm going as Kirk holds her head tight and crams his ten inch
cock past her uvula and down her little throat stopping her breath, choking
her and filling her. The big toe in her left foot snaps loudly. The small
toe in the right foot. The ankle bone. Blood streaks across the floor.
Flush-faced the infant looks up at her killer, suffocated by his cock. He's
surprised she hasn't passed out. Kirk begins to pump in and out.  In and
out.  In and out. Thump and wack.  Thump and wack.  Thump and wack. Another
fragile bone in the child's foot snaps. "Uhhh - shittt -" Kirk growls, his
head tilting back, his sweat covered body shiny in the harsh fluorescent
light.  "Uhh - goddamn!  This is SWEEET!" Whapp!  Snapp!  Thumpp! Katya's
eyes are rolling back as she begins to lose consciousness. Kirk pulls his
massive organ from her, lets her breathe, watches her suffer, listens to
her whining cries and stuffs himself back in her to the hilt, until his
balls flap against her chin. "Ahh-ahhh yeeahhhh!" he shouts, pounding into
Katya's throat.  "Ahhh shittt - yess - yess -" Thumpp!  Wackk!  Snapp! 
Whhappp! "Yyee-aaa-ahhhhh!  UUHHHHHHHH!" Woodson and Allen beat faster as
Kirk starts to cum. Faster harder faster harder. Crack of bone - spurt of
blood... "DRINK ME YOU FUCKIN' SCUMBAG SLUTTTT!" Katya's eyes are wide and
out of focus as Kirk's sperm cannons down her throat and into her trachea
and into her gullet.  Bubbling gobs of it spill and drivel from her
nostrils as he grinds his cumming cock deep as it can go giving her no
relief, no mercy, no quarter, no forgiveness.  The beating sticks have
shattered and ripped her feet to shreds and her blood is all over the
floor. It has spattered the toilet and the wall.  Kirk pulls his cock out
to spurt thick jets of milky jissom into her open eyes and into her beaten
face as Woodson and Allen cheer him on then he thrusts it back into her
O-ringed mouth to throttle and suffocate her again. Finally the child is
nothing but limp flesh in his hands, her cheeks going nearly purple. He
knows if he goes on he will kill her and he would like to go on...but
there's more fun to be had from this victim...lots more. He steps back and
releases her. Her head slumps down. Choking and gasping she pukes up cum
and vomit. Woodson and Allen cease the foot beating and stand over her.
After a few moments, wordlessly, the men begin to urinate on their victim.
Their piss spatters down on the weakly sobbing four year old and soon she's
in a pool of it.  It wets down her long pretty hair and drips from it.  It
drools off her cheeks with Kirk's semen.  It burns into her wounds. "Let's
take er downstairs," Woodson says. Yes. Downstairs. The cellar. The dark
silent soundproof cellar. That is most definitely next. The cellar is where
all their cherubs eventually end up. There everything is taken from them,
slowly and patiently. There they are silenced and extinguished - sometimes
- often in fact - gutted and dismembered. Sometimes even consumed.
Woodson's knife catches the light. In one quick motion he cuts the rope
that suspends Katya up by her arm and she topples to the floor with a
thump. This little cherub will elicit the darkest vilest violence from her
captors. There is no question about it. They are going to go the limit with
her. Kirk crouches down and lifts her into his arms. He leads the way,
carrying the bleeding urine-soaked broken victimized infant, as the men
leave the bathroom. As they move through the bedroom there is a faint but
noticeable noise in the closet by the bed. "What the fuck's that?" Woodson
says. He and Kirk move toward the louvered door. Kirk seizes the knob and
opens it. Rosalva cringes back into the shadows between garments, stumbling
and holding up her hands to shield her eyes from the light. "Fuck!" Kirk
shouts. "The bitch's been watchin' us," Allen says staring accusingly at
the intruder. Woodson reaches into the closet grabbing Rosalva by her wrist
and pulling her out. The Mexican woman's wearing her black t-shirt and
jeans but no shoes.  The zipper of her jeans is open and the waist flops
open revealing her lower belly.  She's not wearing bra or panties. "Looks
like she's been enjoying it too," Woodson comments holding Rosalva by one
arm held high, the young chicano wench struggling against his superior
strength. "Let me go!" she whines.  "Let me go, pleeease!" Woodson rears
back and slaps her loudly across her face. "Shut up, you goddamn spic," he
tells her.  There's a vicious scowl on his face. "What the fuck were you
doing in there?  Huh?  Were you watching the show? Is that what you were
doing?  You like what we do to the babies you bring us? Huh?  You like it?"
"Maybe she wants to join em," Kirk says. Katya lies limply in his arms,
conscious but unresponsive, her broken little feet dripping blood on the
bedroom carpet. "No - no -" Rosalva replies, pressing the back of her hand
against her slap-reddened cheek. "I - I -" "You what, bitch?" Woodson
shouted angrily.  "You think you'll tell the police?  Huh?  You're gonna
tell the police if we don't give you money, is that it?" Rosalva slowly
sinks to her knees, Woodson still gripping her wrist. "No," she says
softly, a strange smile moving across her lips, her hair tumbling over her
eyes. "I know what you do," she tells them looking up at them, her eyes
trailing from one to the other. "Ohh yes, I know - I know for a long time."
Her voice is husky and throaty. Allen gets it before Woodson or Kirk but he
doesn't interrupt.  He wants to hear her say it. "I want to help you," she
says softly, her free hand moving down into her crotch, between the open
flaps of her tight jeans.  "You know?  Mmmm - I - want - to - help - you -
kill - them..." Woodson watches her hand working. The men can smell her
pussy. The musk fills the room. "Gentlemen," he says.  "This is a side of
Rosalva I don't think we've seen before." "Always knew there was more to
her than what she let on," Allen added. "There's a lot more," Rosalva says,
her voice low and slurred.  "Yes.  A lot more Mr.  Allen...You want to
see?" She phrases the last question as she stares up at Woodson
coquettishly. "Sure," he says releasing her.  "Why not.  Show us what you
got, bitch." She starts to get up but he presses down on her shoulder. "No.
Stay right there.  On your fuckin' knees where you belong." The men watch.
Katya, cradled in Kirk's arms watches along with them, without
understanding as the cruel woman who had earlier violated her and chained
her to the bed now peels her t-shirt off then hooks her fingers in the
waistline of her jeans to peel them off her legs, first sitting on the
carpet, then rising back up on her knees when she's naked, her hand moving
down to her shaved crotch again. "Well?" Rosalva asks. The men stare at her
greedily. Allen has a smirk on his face.  Watching Kirk unload on Katya in
the bathroom has left him and Woodson charged up and tense.  He knows they
both need release. "You're gonna have to suck some American cock if you
wanna be part of this outfit, you stinking spic cunt," he tells the
kneeling woman. "Mmmm," Rosalva moans.  "I love American cock." "Well
whatta you know," Kirk says moving to the bed and dropping Katya on it.
Woodson and Allen are already closing in on Rosalva as she kneels on the
carpet fingering herself. The slender, small titted chicano is not bad
looking at all, Kirk thinks and even though he's satiated for the moment
his balls are already tingling as he watches his companions press their
cocks against the woman's dark-toned cheeks. "I don't know," he says.  "I
thought this was an all-male club." "She's not a member yet," Woodson
replies softly as Rosalva wraps her thin lips around his shaft. He grabs
her black silky hair in one hand to force himself down her throat. "That's
right," Allen says darkly.  "Who knows?  Maybe she'll just end up out back
pushing up daisies with the rest of the dead meat." Rosalva turns to take
his cock in her mouth and lick his piss slit.  Her fingers lovingly
stroking his balls as her eyes look up at him pleadingly. "Uhhhh," he
groans smiling.  "...on the other hand..." "On the other hand," Kirk
finishes.  "We need her.  She's a good front for us.  She knows how to work
immigration." His cock is already hard again. This is going to be an extra
special night. Maybe they will kill the woman or maybe they'll let her
live. Either way they're going to have more pleasure than they've had in a
long fucking time. He turns and looks down at Katya.  His eyes move down
her battered pissed-on body. She looks up at him, lost, confused, dazed.
Leaning down he cups the child's beaten foot in his hand and raises it up
off the bed by the heel. He brings the limb to his face, her leg pulled
upward, opening his mouth to sink his teeth into the tender broken flesh.
She gives out a weak cry. The taste of her blood makes him dizzy. Child
blood - hot and fresh. Child blood for the hungry killer. Behind him
Rosalva moans sensually as Woodson and Allen rape her mouth.
   6.
   After getting themselves fiercely worked up Woodson and Allen pulled
Rosalva down on the carpet.  Allen got her on all fours on top of him and
forced her to mount him. Woodson knelt behind her between her kneeling legs
and pushed his prick slowly up her asshole.  She gasped and groaned dipping
her head, soft silky black tendrils cascading down on Allen's chest. 
Woodson began to spank her full round meaty asscheeks roughly as he thrust
himself deeper into her pink bunghole and her head rocked backwards, an
expression of lustful abandonment softening her impassive features, her
thin lips now swollen and wet. After double fucking the four year old it
was an unexpected treat for the two men to double fuck this adult woman. 
There was much more room in her, lots of room for both killers' plundering
erections.  And, unlike Katya, the bitch knew how to fuck, how to milk the
men, how to move against them to heighten their pleasure.  As they took
her, the men realized Rosalva was no prude - she was exactly what the men
had suspected: a sexual animal. Kirk watched as he sat on the edge of the
bed next to Katya, his lips smeared with the child's blood.  He liked to
watch a bitch being fucked like that.  Double fucked. Violently.  Brutally.
It was what all such women deserved. It was what they needed, though most
of them were too stupid to admit it or accept it. Women like Rosalva would
do anything for cock, Kirk knew. They were all sluts under the skin, put on
earth for men's pleasure and for nothing else. Kirk knew now, though he,
like the other two men, had long suspected it, that Rosalva was the worst
kind of slut - one that longs to be like men, to have control, even if its
just over children. Kirk liked the sound of Woodson's spanking hand against
the Mexican slut's ass.  She looked good naked, down on her knees.  He
enjoyed seeing her that way. He stared at her and she opened her eyes and
brazenly stared back at him. Slut. He knew they would probably end up
whipping her later. Beating her. Torturing her. Maybe even killing her. But
it might be nice to watch her torture Katya. Yes.  That had interesting
ramifications. Maybe they would keep her - depending on how the night
played out. She was, as he'd pointed out, a perfect front for their
operation. But she was also a cunt. And cunt could not be trusted. Sooner
or later cunt and betrayal were synonymous. Kirk turned to clip the chain
on the bed's headboard to Katya's collar. He didn't want the little fuck to
go anywhere though that was not very likely now that her feet were busted
up to shit. He strode to the dresser and took a strand of rope from the
open drawer. Casually he moved toward the woman on the floor and looped the
rope around her neck. She did not resist. Woodson continued to smack her
butt leaving dark red handprints on the soft cinammon-hued meat and plunge
himself into her asshole and Allen slammed upward into her cunt as he
gripped her hips. Kirk stared down at her meanly. "You're a worthless spic
cunt," he growled.  "Say it for me.  Tell me." He tugged the rope tight and
Rosalva's hands rose to her throat. "Put em down," Kirk ordered.  "Down
behind you, bitch - Put em on your ass. Spread your asscheeks for Woodson -
that's right - spread em wide so he can stuff your stinking asshole - good
bitch - very nice - now say what I asked you to say." "Ahh - gghh -"
Rosalva grunted.  "I - I'm a - ghh - worthless - spic - c-cunt." "I am
trash -" Kirk said, leaning down to look into Rosalva's face.  "Say it for
us." Woodson as he plowed into the chicano slut smiled. She was gripping
her asscheeks obediently following Kirk's orders and Woodson grabbed both
her arms and slammed up into her to his balls feeling Allen's stiff meat
just on the other side of the flesh membrane plowing up her cunthole.
"Oww!" Rosalva cried.  "I - I am trash!" Underneath her, Allen grabbed her
now by her tits and pinched her nipples crudely, sinking his fingernails
into the pink aureolas. "I am shit - say it." "Ahgg - ow - I - am - shit -
soy mierda -" "I am nothing." "Yes - ohh Godd - yess - I am nothing -
nothing - nothing - nada -" Kirk tugged on the rope and slapped Rosalva's
face brutally back and forth several times. "Yeahhh!" Allen grunted. Tears
of pain filled Rosalva's eyes. "I will always be nothing - come on, pig -
say it.  Let's hear it!" "Ugg - al-always - I'll always - b-be - owww - no
- nothing..." "I will do what I'm told to do, when I'm told to do it - say
it and mean it." Kirk tugged hard on the rope.  Rosalva's lips trembled as
she tried to form the words.  Images of her father standing over her came
and went in her mind.  He was naked and both her brothers were holding her
down on the bed. "Uggggghhhh - Si!  Si!  I will do what I'm -gg- t-told to
do - when I'm told to d-do it -" Kirk pulled her to him by the choke rope
and he also grabbed her flowing hair as he spread apart his legs and lifted
his cock up against his belly. "Lick my balls," he spat.  "Lick em nice and
slow." Rosalva leaned forward straining up on her arms.  She pursed her
lips and kissed Kirk's balls then thrust her tongue out and licked them,
licked them in circles as he held her to him.  She tasted the child on him
and it made her swoon.  Allen looked up from underneath watching Rosalva's
tongue dip against the divide between Kirk's genital sacs as her head was
maneuvered roughly and the rope yanked tight to strangle her. He watched as
Kirk released her hair and slapped her again. "Open your fuckin' mouth,"
Kirk growled menacingly. Rosalva promptly obeyed. Kirk looked down at her
holding her by the choke rope. Allen watched from below. Woodson slid
slowly in and out of her shithole gripping her by her arms. "Yeah," Kirk
told her meanly.  "That's where a cunt like you belongs.  Just like that.
Fucked up the cunt and the ass with your goddamn mouth wide open - stupid
bitch - now listen to me you goddamn spic shit.  Don't you close your
mouth!" Rosalva drooled and her spittle trickled warmly on to Allen's
chest. "I'm gonna fuck your filthy throat," Kirk told her.  "And I want you
to keep those fuckin' lips wide.  Got it?" Rosalva nodded open-mouthed.
"Good.  Here I come you stinking piece of shit." Again Kirk grabbed her by
the hair as he yanked on the choke rope.  He pushed his cock into her mouth
and right into her gullet. Rosalva closed her eyes, her brows arched as she
choked briefly. "Ahhh,"Kirk moaned.  "That's nice - reeal nice -" He fucked
the Mexican woman's throat, his prick making wet sucking sounds as it slid
in and out of her throat hole.  The bitch had opened her mouth so wide that
her lips barely made contact with his shaft.  Kirk, like his two friends,
was extremely well endowed and he figured the spic whore could probably
hold a tennis ball in there...or a spiked steel ball.  Yeah.  They could
definitely try that out on er later.  He gouged her throat stifling the
aahhing sounds she was forming and making her choke spastically, staring
down at her begging eyes. "Let's take these bitches down to the cellar," he
said. The expressionless darkness in his eyes made a chill run through her.
"Let's bleed em." :"You got it," Woodson replied sliding slowly out of
Rosalva's asshole. Kirk pulled his cock from her mouth and yanked up on the
choke rope making Rosalva rise unsteadily, first up on one knee than on
both feet, coming up off Allen. Woodson moved toward the bed to unclip the
Russian orphan's collar from the chain attached to the bed's headboard.
"Come on, Katya," he said.  "We're going bye bye." Katya whined softly.
Rosalva led the way, the choke rope from her neck still in Kirk's grip as
she limped down the staircase. She walked submissively, her head down. Kirk
and Allen followed and then Woodson carrying Katya in his arms, the child
whimpering and bleeding from the abusive penetrations and the savage
torture and foot-beating she'd endured. When they came to the cellar door
which had a number-pad lock system Kirk came around Rosalva. "Even been
down there, bitch?" She shook her head. "No, sir...never...but I want
to..." He keyed in the code and the lock clicked open. "Listen to her,"
Allen remarked.  "The bitch wants to." "Really..." Kirk said.  "Well she's
gonna get her wish - in fuckin' spades."
   7.
   The cellar of the house outside Orchidea, the house that didn't show up
on any census sheets or in any telephone book was a large underground
torture chamber.  It stretched beyond the limits of the house's foundation
on all four sides, a subterranean windowless den divided into three large
rooms. Several dangling light bulbs cast a yellowish hazy glow and the air
was cold and damp.  The floor was rough concrete and the walls were brick.
There were metal manacle clamps in the walls and dangling from chains. 
Ropes hung from the ceiling.  Rosalva looked on wide-eyed as Kirk led her
down the steps and into the main room.  The floor was like ice under her
bare feet. There were two racks, wooden platforms designed to pull a human
body to its limit, one on each side of the room.  Spears and pokers hung
from hooks in the brick wall near the racks as well as small black caldrons
on tripods, like small barbecue grills.  Butane gas cylinders were bolted
to these grills.  There were also cupboards and shelves where every
conceivable tool of torture was visible.  There were blood smears on the
floor and racks and walls and the place smelled rank. Since Rosalva had
been hired twelve little girls had been adopted' by the three killers.  She
knew they had been brought down here, their screams stifled in this
underground killing room.  She knew the men had ripped the little babies
apart and used them up - the thought sent odd thrills through her and she
felt herself getting wet.  Tonight she was going to watch them do it to
Katya - They might even kill her too but the fear of that was irrationally
and illogically arousing.  She could still feel their cocks ramming her and
Kirk standing over her pushing himself down her throat.  Her face and the
cheeks of her ass were still hot from the hard slapping.  Rosalva loved
cruel men.  Cruel and heartless. They made her pulse race and her breath
short.  They made her feel high and dizzy.  These men were like her father
and brothers.  Real men.  Brutes. Animals with no concern for anything but
their own pleasure. "I think this pig needs a good solid whipping," Kirk
stated flatly. "Definitely," Allen replied. Rosalva trembled expectantly.
She'd been whipped before. She'd been taught to like it. "Go ahead and
string er up," Woodson said as he carried Katya to one of the torture
racks. "I'll join you in a minute." Woodson laid Katya out on the wooden
platform and clipped her wrist-cuffs to straps that dangled from the rack's
take-up spool, a large wooden cylinder with crankshaft handles on both
ends. While Kirk and Allen hoisted Rosalva's arms up into steel manacles
that hung on chains from the ceiling Woodson secured little Katya's
ankle-cuffs far apart to stationary eye-hooks at the opposite end of the
rack, the child mewling as her sliced-up broken bleeding feet were roughly
handled.  The child muttered softly - anguished words of pleading, Russian
words that the men didn't understand and couldn't care less about - they
derived sheer sadistic enjoyment from the pitiful sound of the child's
plaintive voice. Woodson looked down at her and she spoke to him between
sobs, her little hands clenching and unclenching above her head. He nodded,
feigning compassion, smiling sardonically. "I know," he said.  "I know. 
Little Katya hurts.  Little Katya wants it all to stop. She wants to go
back home.  Doesn't she...yes she does..." The killer smiled down at her.
Then he hocked and spit in the child's eye. She gave out a yelp of surprise
and turned her face against her arm as the killer's hot phlegm rolled down
the side of her neck. Woodson laughed meanly. Kirk and Allen chuckled. "Way
to go," Allen said. Woodson turned and walked back to the center of the
room where Rosalva now stood tip-toe, arms stretched high apart and
secured. Allen crammed a big red ball gag into the Mexican woman's mouth
and buckled the leather gag-strap tightly around her head trapping her
flowing black hair against her cheeks.  Kirk then slipped a dark leather
hood over her head.  "Yeahh," Allen commented.  "Yeah.  That's a nice
touch." The hood covered her entire face except for her nose.  Now the
Mexican woman was no one. A female punishment object, faceless and
impersonal. A gagged voiceless victim. Unable to see, her mouth drawn wide
by the big red ball which made her jaw ache Rosalva whimpered in terror. 
She didn't know what the men were going to do exactly.  She knew they were
going to beat her but with what and how badly?  She knew what they were
capable of.  She shook visibly, the chains above her rattling against the
pulley casing. The killers took up long fiberglass rods. These were cruel
punishment instruments, nearly a half inch thick and with small egg-shaped
lead tips. They stepped back and circled their prey enjoying the terror
they knew they were provoking. She heard them step slowly around her, bare
feet padding on the concrete.  She turned her head from side to side unable
to see unable to know where the blows would come from. "Look at er shiver,"
Kirk commented.  "She's fuckin' waitin' for it." "We're gonna beat the shit
out of you, pig," Woodson said softly. "That's right," Kirk added.  "You're
gonna piss blood when we're done with you." Then they stopped circling.
"Ghh!" she grunted.  "Gh!  Gh!" "Here it is, cunt," Kirk spat.  He lashed
out first. As if on cue, the men swung their fiberglass rods into their
victim, one after the other, taking turns, going clockwise.  Kirk, Woodson,
Allen.  Kirk, Woodson, Allen.  They swung hard and fast, unsparingly. They
began with her strong shapely legs cutting across her calves and ankles.
Rosalva's gagged screams seemed only to make them hit her harder and as she
jumped and swung and jerked around they cut at her meaty legmeat moving up
her thighs, the front of her thighs, the sides, the upper thighs, the
inside of her thighs as she kicked or raised her legs in spastic response
to the blows. The pain was much worse than she imagined.  Ten times worse.
The fiberglass canes thudded loudly into the Mexican bitch. "Filthy tramp!"
Kirk shouted angrily. Allen's rod slashed at her foot as her leg kicked up,
tore across the sole and heel. "That's right, pig.  Dance!" Woodson
snarled. "Do a little mambo for us - yeh! That's it - Cha cha cha, you
stupid spic fuck!" The rhythm of the whipping became random, no longer
clockwise, unpredictable, each man swinging at will. "Flog that ass!" Allen
urged. And they did, laughing and cheering each other on.  They tore into
the Mexican slut's fat cheeks with a vengeance. Her hooded head arched
back, neck stretched, her left leg cocked up under her, her body going
stiff as the rods wack-wack-wackked into her.  Woodson took the opportunity
to target the exposed inside of the thigh and the upraised foot. He was
able to hit her six times before she put her leg down then he attacked her
belly and hips making the lead tip of his rod slice into her black pubic
patch. Kirk slashed at her back and Allen at her tits. They beat the bitch
viciously and she screamed raucously with all the power in her lungs making
ugly incoherent sounds inside the stifling hood, her teeth biting into the
ball gag. The hard lead eggs on the end of the whip-rods then began to
strike her small tits, short hard whaps that sent hot jolts of fierce pain
through her. Allen grabbed her ankle and raised her leg up off the floor to
smack her exposed cunt with the rod. Woodson and Kirk added their blows to
his and soon their whining shrieking victim began to do exactly what Kirk
had said she'd do. She began to piss blood. The killers kept on wacking at
her dark-patched sexmound until Allen released her leg. She clenched her
bloody-piss-wet thighs together and howled as they slashed at her back and
sides. Finally they tossed their rods aside and moved in to slam their
fists into her.  They punched the breath out of her and yanked the hood off
her head, unbuckled the ballgag and tore it out of her mouth and off her
flushed face, released her from the dangling manacles and watched her fall
to her knees on the floor between them. She slid off her whipped legs and
sat on the floor, hair tangled, sobbing in a pool of bloody urine. When she
looked up at them, her eyes glazed with tears they were slowly stroking
themselves. "Let's piss on er," Woodson suggested raising his cock and
aiming it at her face. A sharp pungent hot yellow stream smacked her
cheeks. Then two more piss-streams doused her from opposite sides. "Open
your mouth," Woodson ordered. She was still crying and softly sobbing but
she did as she was told. Her father would have enjoyed it.  And her
brothers. She had become exactly what they'd always told her she was.
Worthless cuntmeat. It is what I am, she thought.  And what I'll always be.
"Una puta asquerosa," she heard her father say in her mind.  "Dirty filthy
stinking whore." Her hands moved down past her bruised and welted tits and
belly to her bloody swollen cuntmound and she began to rub the hot
throbbing fleshy slit as the men's piss washed down between her thighs in
gleaming streams. "Swallow," Allen snarled as he emptied his bladder on the
whipped latina. She turned to him and let his piss stream gurgle in her
mouth. Her eyes gleamed feverishly. Then she tipped her head back and
gulped down the hot foul fluid. "Beautiful," Woodson commented. When the
men finished they shook their cocks clean and wiped them off in her hair.
Then Woodson grabbed the beaten Mexican woman's arm and yanked her
forcefully up on her feet. "Let's fire up one of those burners," he said.
"Rosalva's gonna make Katya sing for us." Moments later the four adults
stood over the bound Russian orphan. Woodson and Kirk turned the crankshaft
handles stretching Katya slowly on the rack. The mechanism made a
ratcheting noise with each slow quarter-turn of the take up spool. "I want
to hurt her," Rosalva said softly, her hand restlessly moving in her
crotch, her body burning from the savage caning.  The killers' piss burned
and stung into every cut.  Its sour taste filled her mouth.  "I want to
make her scream." Allen had activated one of the burners, lighting it with
a match as the gas hissed.  Then he'd dipped a thin metal rod into the blue
flame. "Oh you do, do you?" Woodson snickered. "Knock yourself out, bitch,"
Allen said after a few moments, handing Rosalva the rod by its handle.  The
tip of the metal torture tool glowed and smouldered. Woodson and Kirk
turned the rack's spool until Katya was sobbing and gasping for air, her
terrified eyes tracking Rosalva as she approached. Rosalva put her hand on
the four year old's shoulder. "Hey you little bitch -" she said softly,
smiling. She lifted the burning metal rod and showed it to the child.
"Nyett!" Katya blurted.  "Nyett!  Nyett!  Nyett!" "Ohh yes, yes,
yesss...puta de mierda..." "Sufre, maricona!" Rosalva snarled suddenly and
pressed the glowing metal tip into Katya's whipped belly. Rosalva smiled
with sick pleasure and held the burning rod against the child's flesh.  The
whipped latina was fired up from the beating she'd just endured and her own
sadistic impulses were being triggered and released.  She wanted to make
Katya feel the pain she'd just felt - or worse.  She wanted the little shit
to suffer and bleed and burn and howl.  Even die. Katya's head thumped
against the wooden platform as she shrieked dementedly. Woodson and Kirk
gave the rack another turn. "Burn her little titties," Woodson suggested.
"Yesssss," Rosalva hissed and moved closer lifting the heated metal off the
child bringing it up to her chest. "Si -" Rosalva said to herself.  "Esas
teticas - those little itty bitty nipples, Mr. Woodson.  I'll burn them for
you.  Just like you want me to." Rosalva's hand tightened on Katya's
shoulder as she pressed the hot spear down into the pink flesh nub.  All
four adults now smiled broadly as the child's screeched and shuddered,
trapped on the rack for them like a pinned rabbit. "Both of them, Mr. 
Woodson," Rosalva said, her voice rising subtly as she lifted the rod from
one sizzled nipple and pushed it into the other one. "Nice," Allen said. 
The men had started masturbating while they watched. "Real real nice."
"Both little teticas," Rosalva said, her eyes hard and cruel as she lifted
the rod and put it back on the already mutilated nipple to gouge and burn
some more.  "Burned to a crisp...  Just the way you like." Again Woodson
and Kirk gave the rack a turn stretching the screaming Russian orphan one
more degree as Rosalva dragged the burning metal slowly down her belly to
the child's bare muff. "I want to put it in there, Mr.  Woodson.  Inside
her." "Not yet, bitch.  Touch her thighs with it.  Mmmmm.  Yes.  That's it.
Her little knees...slowly...drag it over her slowly - good - very nice -"
"Burn her face," Kirk said as Katya wailed and jerked around.  "Her little
cheeks." "Yeahh," Woodson concurred. Even though it was cold in the
underground chamber the three men and their sadomasochistic servant woman
were all sweating now, sweating profusely, masturbating to the piercing
screams of their child victim. Woodson and Kirk gave the rack one more turn
and Katya's shrieks became manic and shrill - more so as the hot metal
shaft touched her left cheek and sizzled against rosy babymeat. "Press it
against her ear," Allen said hoarsely, jerking off, looking over Rosalva's
whipslashed shoulder. "Burn the little shit," he added. "I want to burn her
pretty eyes out," Rosalva whispered hoarsely. "No," Allen said moving
forward and taking the rod from her to dip it back into the caldron-grill.
He went to one of the cabinets that were up against the wall and reached
into a drawer.  He returned with a thick latex dildo.  It was black and it
had two cockheads on each end spiked with tiny metal barbs.  "Put this in
your cunt and get on that rack.  You're gonna fuck the little bitch with
it." "But..." Rosalva began as she was handed the two inch thick device.
"Shut the fuck up and do as you're told," Allen growled.  "Now." Rosalva
knew that the dildo was going to hurt her inside but she knew she had
little choice. The men watched as she spread her legs apart and bent
forward slightly to push the thick black shaft up into her whip-sliced
pussy. "Ayyy!" she whined, head thrown back, teeth bared.  "Ayyy!  Mierda!"
"Push it in deeper, pig," Woodson spat.  "All the fuckin' way in...
yeahh..that's right....all the way up in there you stupid spic fuck." When
she'd shoved half of the huge dildo up into her vagina Kirk and Woodson
they helped her up on the rack platform between Katya's wideflung legs.
"Now, put it to er," Allen told her.  "Come on, pig.  Put the end of that
thing right up inside her, Gouge er out for us.  Make er bleed." The dildo
hung between Rosalva's thighs like some demon-tail as she hovered over
Katya.  The thing hurt.  It was cutting her up inside.  But she knew it was
going to hurt the four year old a whole hell of a lot worse. She bent over
Katya, her hands pressed flat on the rack table on either side of the
weeping child. "Nyet -" Katya said over and over and over.  "Nyet - nyet -
nyet -" "I'll give you nyet' you little puta," Rosalva growled.  She
reached down and positioned the barbed dildo head against Katya's beaten
pussy lips.  She'd wanted to push the hot steel rod in there but this was
going to be better.  So much fucking better. Slowly and decisively
Rosalva's wide hips bore down. "Yyyeeeeiiiiiii!!!" the four year old
screeched. "Rip er open!" Kirk shouted. "Yeahhh!" the other two men growled
in unison. It was a flawless sadistic tableaux - the dark haired Mexican
slut, her body covered with fierce welts on all fours atop the wooden
rack-platform - the little child stretched to her absolute limit, legs wide
apart bruised and beaten bloody, under the spike-cocked female - the three
men watching, eyes slitted with pleasure, jerking off slowly and cupping
their balls as they drank in this vision of destruction that luck had
granted them.  The two females were now connected by the two inch thick
dildo, both of them in pain, suffering for the gluttonous pleasure of their
captors, but the Mexican woman's pain was self-inflicted, driven by her own
fiercely sadistic need to make the child hurt, to make her hurt beyond all
reason and all sanity.  Rosalva plowed down into Katya moaning feverishly,
tossing her head back as she gougefucked the four year old with the
barbaric weapon-penis. "BEAT MEEE!" Rosalva begged the men.  "PLEEASE -
BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ME!" "Lead-tipped dogwhips?" Allen suggested. "Sounds
good to me," Kirk replied. Allen went to a rack on the wall and brought the
short-range floggers, whips with twelve hard leather strips and a small
lead ball on the tip of each foot-long tail. Each man took one and they
stepped up to the rack platform circling around it, swinging away, sending
the wicked floggers against Rosalva's fat ass- cheeks and thighs, against
her back and shoulders as she howled and redoubled her efforts to fuck
little Katya, to press as much of the deadly dildo shaft into the child as
she could.  Soon both the woman and the four year old on the rack platform
were wailing and screeching and the men were in a blissful sadistic funk,
striking harder and harder against their victims. Now and then they struck
at the child too, at her thighs, at her broken bloody feet. "Get your hands
on top of your head, pig!" Woodson shouted at Rosalva. The crazed bitch did
immediately as she was told, going up on her haunches, still fucking the
child with jabbing thrusts of her hips but now offering herself to the
slashing whips, leaving her wobbling tits open to the attack of the
lead-tipped tails, her hands gripped together above her head. "Goddamn
cunt!" "Filthy stinking whore!" The men flogged their spic slave's tits
mercilessly. They pounded the floggers into her belly and mons slicing
fresh welts across the welts they'd already left on er. "Let's tear the
nipples out of er." "Don't stop fuckin', bitch.  That's right.  Keep
pounding that little baby shit.  Pound the goddamn shit out of er.  Goddamn
spic fuckbag." Rosalva shook and jerked as a fierce orgasm began to build
in her womb. She looked down at Katya as the whips stung and thrummed. The
dildo was three quarters of the way up into the child's hairless sex hole
and blood was pooling under Katya's thighs.  The child strained against the
ropes that stretched her howling and yelping like a wounded animal. "Hasta
lo ultimo, cabrona!" Rosalva hissed savagely.  "Te lo voy a meter hasta lo
ultimo - I'm going to KILL you with it!  KILLYOU YOU LITTLE BITCCHHHHH!"
Her hands slid down to grip Katya's ankles and she jammed her full weight
against the dildo.  As it sank deeper into the four year old it also
scraped its way deeper into her own vaginal passage and pressed right up
against her uterus. "GGRrraaaaawwwgghhh!" Rosalva shouted as the sharp
wounding pain exploded through her mixed with the throbbing waves of
orgasmic release and the slashing burning cuts of the killers' whips. "KILL
MEEE!" she screeched, throwing her head back...  "KILL MEEE! CABRONES! 
MATENME!" Little baby Katya gave out a strangled whoop as the dildo rammed
into her and ruptured her uterus entering her gutsack.  Her eyes rolled
back in her head and she passed out. The men yanked Rosalva off the rack,
the Mexican bitch kicking and screaming as she was thrown to the floor. She
curled up into a fetal position, blood oozing from her cunt which was
stuffed with the scarlet smeared dildo shaft.  She humped and kicked and
made odd noises as she rubbed herself against the concrete like a dying
fish. Woodson reached down and tore the dildo out of her and she gave out a
deafening shriek. "Let's fuck these dirty bitches up," Kirk said.  He stood
over Rosalva, the bloody dogwhip dangling from one hand, the other hand
slow-stroking his fully engorged ten inch prick. "Let's take em both to the
fuckin' limit."
   8.
   "The little shit doesn't have far to go," Woodson said.  He'd just sunk
a hypodermic needle into Katya's neck.  The stimulant brought the child
back to the hell of suffering in a few brief moments. "Turn er over," Kirk
said.  "That rod's nice and hot now.  I wanna put it up her little ass
while she can still feel it." They'd hung Rosalva up by her wrists from the
ceiling, lifting her legs up and apart, tying her small tits up in barbed
wire, so that she hung there for them, a beaten piece of spic skagmeat
bleeding from her chest and out her cunt.  Then they'd all taken turns
fucking her slowly, using her to get themselves as aroused as possible,
Allen was still fucking her, slowly sliding in and out of her ravaged
shithole, his meat hard and unyielding as he rammed deep into the Mexican
slave while Woodson released Katya from the rack's stern grip and turned
the child over on her belly.  He bound the child again and gave the rack
crankshaft a couple of turns until Katya muttered and groaned with fresh
suffering, blood pouring now from her swollen sexhole and from her lips and
nose. Allen pulled Rosalva to him, his hand gripping her head unforgivingly
as he french-kissed the suffering bitch.  He punched her belly and thighs
as he pushed his cock deep into her bleeding cunt and he thrust his tongue
into her throat as she gagged and mewled and moaned in sick pleasure. "You
love me, pig?" he asked her, pulling back slightly to look into her
half-open eyes.  "Huh?  You love me?" "Si," she nodded weakly, her swollen
lips forming the words softly. "I love you, Mr.  Allen - uhh - I love all
of you - gghh - all of you..." "Mmmmm," Allen moaned as he smeared his
mouth on Rosalva's gripping her head hard, again punching her ribcage as he
slow-fucked the masochistic latina.  Blood oozed from her torn nipples.
Kirk watched them smiling, jerking off slowly and then he turned and picked
up the rod from the grill moving toward Katya on the rack. Woodson took a
small stainless steel ring gag from the cabinet behind him and he slipped
it into Katya's panting mouth spreading her lips way wide, almost
dislocating the child's jaw.  Then he climbed up on his knees on the rack
table in front of her. As Kirk approached with the blazing steel rod
Woodson grabbed Katya's little head and pushed his cockhead slowly into her
mouth. The child looked up at him trembling, eyes going in and out of
focus. He knew the only thing keeping her conscious was the stimulant he'd
just injected into her. "So you love all of us,"Allen asked Rosalva pushing
his hard prick deep into the punished bitch's shit-chute.  "Mmmm...  all
three of us the same?  Or is there one you like more?" Woodson and Kirk
chuckled. "All three..." Rosalva moaned weakly.  " - all three - all three
- all -" "Open your mouth wide so I can spit in you," Allen said. As she
obeyed him he spit in her mouth and then slapped her face hard and then
started French-kissing her again as he fucked his helpless suspended slave.
After a moment he began punching her again, harder now, with less
restraint. Kirk now held the rod just above Katya's pert little asscheeks.
Woodson looked down at it, then up into his friend's blazing gaze.  He
gripped Katya's head in both hands and pushed his cock into her gasping
throat. "Give it to er!" he snarled.  "Burn the little fuck up!" Allen
turned to look over his shoulder and Rosalva too looked on in a daze as
Kirk now pushed the superheated metal rod between the four year old's
custard-soft cheeks. "Ahhh," Rosalva moaned groaning, clenching her
sphincter against Allen's invading shaft.  She was watching Kirk do what
she'd longed to do earlier. Katya's body spasmed with pain and her piercing
shriek was muffled against Woodson's glans buried in her constricted
gullet. Kirk felt the child's butt resist the blazing penetration, rectal
flesh hissing and sizzling, steam wafting up between the small round half
moons of her whipped buttocks. Woodson tilted his head back as the four
year old's throat hole tightened and vibrated on his meat and felt himself
start to cum. "Uhhh, shitt," he grunted. Allen watched Rosalva.  The
bitch's eyes were fixed on the suffering child stretched on the rack and on
the two strong killers torturing and posessing her.  Allen leaned forward
to whisper in her ear: "You love that, don't you, you stinking pig?  You
love to see that just as much as we do." As she nodded he sank his teeth
into her earlobe hard until he tasted blood. "Oowww!" Rosalva cried. 
"Shittt - yesss - hurt meee - yess - yess - I love it - kill the little
bitch - kill her and kill me - kill both of us - put that rod through her,
Mr.  Kirk - ahhh - fuckk me hardd you bastard - uhh -" Allen slid slowly
out of her. "Pleease - noo -" she begged.  "Don't stop.  I want to cum.  I
want to cum." He slapped her hard. "That's too fuckin' bad, pig, because
you're not gonna cum until I'm good and ready to LET you fuckin' cum."
"That's tellin' er," Woodson snarled.  "Uhhh - yeahhh - YEAHHH!" His balls
tightened deliciously and he felt the hot spurts explode inside Katya's
throat.  The child gurgled, sniffled, gasped, and plumes of spit, mucous
and cum erupted from her tiny nose as Woodson pulled back to shoot thick
jets of sperm in her little upturned face.  Now ungagged the child screamed
wildly as Kirk worked the burning steel rod in and out of her asshole,
pushing it deep, pulling it almost all the way out and plunging it deep
again. Meanwhile Allen had gone to the cabinet and returned. He showed
Rosalva the small barbed fishing hooks. "I'm gonna spread you open, pig,"
he told her.  "Wide fuckin' open." He went down on one knee between her
outflung legs and she looked down in horror as he tweaked her cuntlip and
pushed one hook right through the punished meat.  She threw her head back
and howled.  He waited for her to finish.  And when she stopped jerking
around and looked back down he pushed the second hook right through her
other labia. "I'm gonna burn your miserable stinking cunt," he told her.
She watched him knot thin leather cords to the hooks and pull the cords
upward tie them off to a chain line above her head, her vaginal lips
stretched to their limit and bleeding. " - burn it fuckin' raw..." By that
time Kirk had slowly tugged the hot steel shaft out of Katya's charred up
rectum.  The child twisted and screeched and shit up blackened faeces and
burned up bits of intestines. Kirk handed the punishment rod to Allen who
dipped it back into the blue flame of the caldron grill. Woodson pulled up
a chair and straddled it, leaning forward against the back rest to watch
his two companions work on the females. Kirk climbed up on the torture rack
and knelt between the four year old's legs putting his cock up to her
burned bunghole.  He moaned softly as he slowly penetrated his wheezing
screaming victim. Without having to even turn his head Woodson was able to
watch Allen a few feet away now taking the punishment rod from the flames
and approach the suspended Mexican woman. "Ready, cunt?" Allen asked
Rosalva. She sobbed and her head tilted to one side as if asking for
clemency. "You wanted to put in Katya before, didn't you?  Well now you're
gonna find out what it feels like.  Now - are you READY?" The bloodied
steel rod blazed out in front of him, steady in his grip. Rosalva knew
there would be no pity. She nodded and hung her head. "Say it," Allen said
meanly.  "I need to fuckin' hear you SAY IT." She looked up at him and
sobbed. "YESS - Damn you - I'm READY - Burn my cunt out!  QUEMAME!" On the
rack table Kirk pounded violently into Katya and looked back over his
shoulder as Allen stepped forward and sunk the smouldering steel into
Rosalva's sexhole. "Yeahhh," Kirk growled.  "YEahhh!" and he leaned down
gripping Katya's little ass to shoot his cum into her burned out bowels. 
"AHH - GODDAMN - YEAAHHHH!" Rosalva wailed as Allen reamed her with the
sizzling rod.  She'd never experienced such intense pain and she felt
herself on the brink of passing out.  For ten interminable minutes Allen
patiently scoured the insides of the latina's filthy vagina with the
torture rod, scraping it into her hooked pussy lips and against her slimy
clitoris and finally deep into her bleeding cunt.  He fucked her slowly and
gently with it licking his lips as he dealt her the most atrocious agony a
woman can experience.  Then he took out the rod, reheated it and slid it
back into her making her jump and jerk in her suspension, making her scream
and plead in Spanish and English, he smiling at her as she sobbed and rode
his burning metal.  Then, masterfully, he tossed the rod aside and stepped
up to her to push his massive meat into her still smouldering cunt, seizing
the rope that still hung from her neck to choke her and strangle her as he
fucked her. "Beautiful," Woodson commented softly. On the rack table, Kirk
slid out of Katya's burned poophole and leaned back to piss right into the
child's insides, his piss bubbling in the gaping semen spewing wound that
had once been her anus. Soon it was Allen's turn to finish and he worked
his way toward it with unhurried patience and fierce determination, the
Mexican bitch's face turning dark blue as he strangle-fucked her. 
Gradually he loosened his grip on the choke rope and then quickly unwound
the barbed wire from her tits.  Hungrily he leaned in to sink his teeth
into her punished breast-meat, right into the sliced-up nipples, biting
again and again until fat blood drops oozed from the dark brown nubs.  He
looked up into Rosalva's suffering face, his mouth and chin smeared with
her blood. "Ffuckking stinking piggg!" he snarled savagely and felt himself
tense, his breath coming fast. "Cum for me!" he ordered.  "You wanted to
cum?  Well - CUM, you stinking shitbag spic whore!" "Aeeeeii!" she keened.
"Aghh!  Ag!  Ag!  Ag!" Incredibly her cuntal sheath-muscles were still
operational and they squeezed against him as he pushed in to the hilt and
felt his balls surge.  The bitch was orgasming for him, following his
command, like a mindless puppet. "Give it to er!" Kirk urged.  "Break the
fuckin' bitch!" Allen tossed his head back and gave himself to the pounding
masculine frenzy. "Ugghhh!" he grunted, his hips thrusting rhythmically. 
"Unn - UNHHHHH!" He grabbed Rosalva's bloody tits hard in his hands to hold
her and shoot his load as far into her as he could, as if he could shoot it
right into her fucking brain, into her soul, as if he could kill her with
his big cock, finish her once and for all, take her over and make her his.
Allen loved the capture, the conquest and the slaughter - like his
companions he was a true dyed-in-the-wool sadist and nothing was better
than a non-consentual child-rape and kill - but taking a willing woman to
her absolute limit and finally posessing her fully was equally fulfilling.
The truth was that all three men preferred little girls but none of them
would ever pass up the opportunity to take an adult cunt of the likes of
Rosalva Morales apart.  On this savage night they would be able to enjoy
both ends of the spectrum. It was an unforgettable night, already careening
toward dawn, already well past the witching hour and even as Allen finished
with Rosalva and slid out of her he was already preparing himself to
continue.  All three killers would soon be fully aroused and ready to
pursue the savage cunt-killing orgy to the most unimaginable limits. As he
finished Allen drew back and slammed his fist into Rosalva's belly winding
her.  Then brutally he punched her face.  She hung there gasping for air,
sperm leaking from her burned out pussy. "Filthy bitch," Woodson muttered
from across the room. Allen held his fist up to her mouth. "Slut - Kiss the
hand that punishes you." Lovingly she leaned forward, still struggling to
breathe as she pursed her lips and pressed them into his hard bony
knuckles. A trickle of blood spilled from her left nostril and dripped down
his arm.
   9.
   Rosalva struggles to breathe. The men have bound her elbows tightly
behind her, wrists leather cuffed. They've pulled her by the choke rope to
the second chamber where they've rigged up a device around a steel post
that runs from the floor to the ceiling. Her choke rope is removed and
replaced by a thin black leather strap that dangles from an overhead chain
and buckles tight around her neck choking her. This second chamber is
darker than the first and there's no furniture, no cabinets, no racks.  It
is a bare room, cold, tomblike. The men work on her silently.  Woodson and
Kirk. They re-wind barbed wire around each of her beaten tits tight,
strangling her sliced- up boobs and making them jut out of her like
grapefruit halves and drip fresh blood.  Around the steel post Woodson
places a collar on the floor, a steel ring two feet wide.  It is covered
with steel barbs that rise a half inch from its surface. The collar locks
into place and the Mexican woman is made to step on to it. The barbs pierce
into her bare feet.  She gives out a wounded cry. A steel ball, also
covered with barbs is shoved into her mouth and strapped to her face.  -
just as Kirk had thought earlier - filling out the space nicely... Allen
brings the Russian orphan into the room.  He has tied her arms behind her,
elbows cinched tight like Rosalva's.  A strap dangling from an overhead
chain is wound tight around the child's neck as she kneels on the floor. 
She's dazed, her eyes blank, unresponsive.  Strands of hair stick to her
bruised sweaty face.  There are welts and burns all over her and she's
still ring-gagged, her lips swollen, her mouth drooling. "Listen up, pig,"
Woodson tells Rosalva. "You're gonna walk in circles around the post.  Each
time you go around there's a pulley rigged up to haul Katya up toward the
ceiling." She watches Kirk clipping a metal bar to the post.  On the end of
this metal bar is a thick steel dildo.  The metal arm is mounted on a clamp
that allows it to revolve around the post.  She sees Kirk attach an
electrical wire which dangles from above to the side of the swiveling arm.
Woodson guides her to the arm. "Spread your legs and take the dildo up your
cunt." The small barbs dig into her feet as she moves. "Ghhmm!" Spit oozes
out of her mouth and off her chin. She does as she's told and the cold
metal phallus squeezes into her hurtfully until a quarter of it is up her
burned, wounded snatch.  "Each time you walk around the post,"Woodson
continues.  "The dildo will go deeper up you and the child's weight will
bear down and tug on the cord around your throat.  Understand?" She nods
slowly looking down at the floor submissively. "Also, each time you go
around the post you'll be working a voltage regulator which will send
electrical bursts into your stinking cunt.  The more turns around the post
you take the higher the voltage.  Don't you think its a clever device? 
Electrical torture, hanging and strangulation of two victims all at one
time." "Fucking brilliant," Kirk remarks.  "Even if we did come up with it
ourselves." Across the room Allen snickers Rosalva watches the men move to
a crate in the corner of the room and she hears a heavy metallic scraping.
When they turn she sees the rusty chains dangling from their hands. "Start
walkin', pig," Allen snarls and swings the chain hard across Rosalva's
thighs. "Ugg!" Her eyes go wide and she drools as she jerks forward and
starts walking around the post. "Up on your toes!" Woodson shouts at her
swinging his chain across her belly. The rusty links gouge into her beaten
flesh as she obeys the instructions of the killer and the barbs on the
steel collar around the post dig into the balls of her bare brown feet.
"Walk, bitch!" Kirk yells.  "Come on - walk you stupid spic shit!" As she
moves around the post she suddenly feels the sharp twinge of electrical
shocks traveling through the dildo in her cunt. "Auwwgg!  Ghh!" The men say
nothing else for the moment and they beat her with the chains as she
circles the post. Above her there are mechanical sounds, loud snapping as
of gear wheels engaging and as she comes around the post with each
revolution she sees Katya being hauled upward by her neck.  Gradually the
child is lifted, her head tilted to one side, choking and gurgling, lifted
off her knees and then up on her broken bloody feet. "Yeahh," Woodson
growls smiling.  He pounds the latina bitch with the heavy chain, pounds it
into her chest brutally, across her strangled boobs, smacking into bloody
nipplemeat. The dildo slips deeper into Rosalva and she tries to spread her
thighs for it. Kirk and Allen send their chains against her legs and
asscheeks. The men beat their victim seriously as she slows down, unable to
move faster because the weight of the child is now choking her. Katya is
off her feet and squirming as she's strangled. "Come on, pig!  MOVE!"
Somehow the latina slave struggles on. The spikes in the ball inside her
mouth gouge her tongue and the roof of her mouth. "Ghaaa -" she groans. 
"Ghhagghaghhgg!" The men now turn their attention to the neck-hung four
year old. They swing their heavy chains heartlessly into the child as she
chokes and kicks and whines and screams. The rusty links tear into the
child's skin and each time Rosalva makes a full turn around the post she's
energized by the sight: three savage powerful men chainwhipping the
strangled dying infant. "Yygghhh!" she growls.  Dizzy she chokes on the
child's weight she longs to see her ripped apart. Kill her!  she tells the
men in her mind.  Kill her!  Kill her!  Kill her!  Kill her! The spikes on
the floor rip Rosalva's foot soles.  Blood spatters the floor. Katya's
blood spatters the wall behind her as the chains snarl and snake around
her. The chains snap the child's ribs and crack her knees.  They lick at
her face and clunk heavily against her small skull. The dildo is all the
way up Rosalva's cunt now releasing explosive bursts of pain deep in her
making her leap and surge against the strangling strap.  She wants to pull
the child higher. She wants to pull Katya to the fucking ceiling. But she's
starting to pass out. Bright spots dance across her eyes. "Keep going,
pig!" Woodson shouts at Rosalva.  "Keep walking!" Somehow she does, inching
her way around the post now, her bloody feet grinding into the spikes, she
struggling for breath, groaning and covered with sweat. She has to pay with
each single step now.  With each single breath. Pay for the whore she is.
Katya is pulled higher, gasping and breaking under the heavy chains of the
killers. Rosalva's cunt throbs and aches as the electricity pounds into her
guts. Then darkness swirls all around her.
   When she comes to she's on the cold floor on her back. She looks up and
realizes she's been pulled off the dildo and dragged away from the post.
Above her Katya hangs by wrists and ankles spread open. The men have
strapped on barbed steel dildos and they are about to slaughter rape the
Russian orphan. They're gonna take turns. Woodson's first. "Lick my balls
while I fuck er," he tells the Mexican bitch.
   Hard barbed steel pushes into Katya's little broken pussy. She sends up
a frail little cry that climbs higher. Somehow Rosalva struggles up on her
bruised knees to push her face up into the killer's hot genitals. The
Mexican slut licks the killer's asshole as he begins to fuck the little
girl with the gruesome device.
   Kirk takes the child up her burned out ass. Thick bloody spurts of
greenish mushy shit spurt down on Rosalva as she groans and pushes her
mouth against the man's balls.
   Allen and Kirk take Katya between them. A brutal double fuck of barbed
steel. The suspended child screaming. Rosalva moaning feverishly, arms
still bound behind her, kneeling bitch servicing the killers. Then its
Woodson and Allen. Then its Woodson and Kirk. Mauling the cherub between
them. Slamfucking her. A single mantra fills Rosalva's head: Kill her kill
her kill her kill her kill her kill her kill her... Guts and blood spill
from the child and down on Rosalva streaming on to her wire-noosed tits.
The men snarl and growl like savage apes. There's no need of words. Time is
suspended. This is glorious and uninhibited fuck-killing at its best.
Rosalva kisses their feet and licks their strong thighs licking right up
against their balls where the edge of the barbed steel dildo begins - she
licks up the blood spilling from Katya - she grunts like a hungry animal.
   The men let the child down to the floor. They strap a barbed dildo on
Rosalva and untie the Mexican woman's arms. Incredibly Katya is still
alive, clinging by a thread, spewing blood and vomit from her nose, her
eyes rolling from side to side as she lies there.
   "She's yours," Woodson tells Rosalva. "Take er," Kirk adds.
   Like an animal, the dark beaten latina bitch moves on hands and knees,
crawls like a stalking panther toward the child. She pulls the baby's legs
open and pushes the dildo's barbed head into the ripped apart pussy-slit.
"GRRRAGHHH!" she shouts dementedly and sinks down on top of the child
biting into Katya's shoulders, arms, chest and face - biting hard - ripping
into the child. She fucks and bites and scratches and pounds into Katya as
if every raw instinct had been released at once. She hilts the dildo in the
dying child and the men watch in deep sexual fascination as the Mexican
woman takes the child's throat in her mouth and sinks her teeth hard into
Katya's jugular. The child screams frenetically and her blood explodes in
spatters across the floor in pulsing jets from the grisly wound in her
neck. "Goddamn!" Allen comments. Rosalva bites Katya again nearly tearing
her larynx out of her throat then she grabs the baby's head and begins to
smash it against the concrete floor cracking the Russian orphan's fragile
skull after five pounding smacks. "YYARRRRRGHHH!!" Rosalva shouts
triumphantly and as she comes up on her knees Woodson swings his chain down
across her head. The thudding blow knocks the Mexican bitch sideways across
the floor. All three killers hover over her to smash her with their chains.
They beat her unmercifully with unchecked fury for nearly ten minutes then
they stop, breathing hard, unsure of what they will do next. There is
silence. Suddenly there is a gurgling gasp from Katya as the child tenses
and quivers in one last death spasm.
   10.
   Outside, morning is already moving toward noon. In the third chamber the
savage orgy is now moving toward closure. Katya has been laid out on the
steel autopsy table under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. Woodson
and Kirk watch as Allen takes the scalpel and slices the dead four year old
down the middle from the ugly bite wound in her neck to her swollen
torn-apart cunt with one single controlled movement. "Mmmm," Kirk moans.
Blood leaks from the cut like juice from a split peach. All three men are
stroking themselves. "Pull her open," Allen tells them. They each take one
flap of the child's abdomen and thorax from opposite sides of the autopsy
table and peel back the horribly bruised skin. "Ohhh yeahhh," Rosalva
groans softly. The Mexican woman dangles inverted by one leg above the
stainless steel platform blood dripping from her beaten body, down her
face, into her hair and on to the autopsy table, fat red drops spattering
on the clean surface and on Katya's beaten thighs.  Both Rosalva's legs are
broken and swollen, the free leg bound calf to thigh, her broken arms bound
up at her sides with barbed wire. "You're gonna gut her for us with your
mouth," Allen tells Rosalva softly. The dangling woman nods slowly. Woodson
lowers her down by releasing the pulley line that holds her suspended from
the ceiling above the autopsy table. He allows her to dip her head into the
child's exposed gutsack. "Mmmrrrrrggg," Rosalva grunts savagely taking a
biteful of the child's innards. Woodson hauls her up and Rosalva spits out
Katya's guts beside the child's carcass on the autopsy table. Woodson dips
her down again. After several of these maneuvers the ravaged Mexican woman
manages to clean out most of Katya's insides, bits of immature uterus and
faeces sticking to her face and tangled in her hair and drooling from her
lips. One by one Allen slices Katya's toes from the child's feet and feeds
them to Rosalva. The men watch the dangling bitch devour the bits of flesh
greedily and spit out the bones. Allen reaches down and takes Katya by her
hips to swing her over on her belly. The dead child's body flops over
spilling bits and pieces of whatever is still left in the abdominal cavity
- dark blood - bits of stomach and liver. Her stench fills the room. Now
Allen cuts down from the base of Katya's skull to her buttocks. He carves
slices of buttock meat and passes them to Woodson and Kirk who tear into
them savagely. Allen cuts the child's thighs open and snips bits of
thighmeat off her leaning down to pop them into his mouth on the end of the
scalpel. All three killers feed on the dead child for several more minutes
and then the autopsy table is wheeled out of the way. Woodson takes up the
pulley line from which Rosalva dangles and lets her down. She hangs between
the men upside down, her head at cock level as they move in. They each take
their pleasure pushing their hard erect pricks into the bloody mouth of
their suspended victim, into her beaten cheeks and face. Allen still has
the scalpel. "Do we keep the pig or waste er?" he asks his two companions
looking down at Rosalva as she chokes herself on Kirk's prick. Kirk steps
back. The men stare down at Rosalva. She looks up at them open-mouthed,
blood-smeared, drooling.
   She sees them but it is her father and brothers she sees. Tied up and
hung by her feet, naked, in the barn. They've beaten her with their belts
and fucked her. Maybe this is it. Maybe there is nothing more. She can
still taste Katya's guts in her mouth. Her father stares at her so
hatefully. Her father now dead for nearly ten years. "Puta asquerosa," he
says disdainfully. She whimpers helplessly. "Puta asquerosa."
   "Waste er," Woodson says.  "Waste the fuckin' pig.  We'll get another
bitch to front for us." Allen smiles. Without hesitation he slices the
scalpel across Rosalva's throat. Gghhhhuuuwwghhh!" the bitch grunts with
surprise. Blood spits from the gash in her neck, bubbles out her nose and
mouth, spatters the killers' thighs. Woodson grabs her by her hair and
pulls her to his cock. "Keep sucking, scumbag," he tells her. Kirk cums
first shooting off inside Rosalva's bloody lips. Woodson shouts and
explodes in her face. Allen reaches into her mouth and grips her tongue
slicing it out of her with the scalpel before pushing his cock to the hilt
between her lips. As he fucks her he slices off her ears. Draws the scalpel
several times across her cheeks cutting deep. He empties his balls in the
choking dying slut.
   They're not finished. They let her down to the floor. Woodson gets the
axe. He makes her kiss it first. She's already pale from blood loss. Pale
face scribbled with scalpel cuts, her ears bloody gashes. "Naaagghhh -" she
says as she sees him standing over her raising the killing weapon.
   He hacks her hands off first, then her arms. Then the men kick her on
her belly. "Pleeeze - pleeze -" she groans, squirming. There's no answer
only the downward swoosh of the axe as Woodson chops her head clean off her
shoulders. A bright blue flash explodes in Rosalva's mind. He hacks her
broken, bound up legs off her. Her feet. By then the killers are aroused
again. They pick her head up and fellate themselves with it.
   Life is still there though fading fast. I love you, papi - love you -
synapses firing, images a bright long ago morning, her father has just
slapped her hard real real hard surprising her. "I don't love you, puta,"
he snarls. "I'll never love you." Woodson sees Rosalva's eyes flutter as he
shoots off in her severed throat.
   Eventually Rosalva's dead face drips blood and cum.
   The men prop her severed head up on a steel rod and piss on it.
   On the autopsy tray Katya lies in a heap of broken flesh blood and guts.
   Much later the child and the woman are stuffed into large plastic
garbage bags. Black ones.  Heavy duty ones.
   It is late afternoon by the time the men bury their victims in the back
yard. Orange sunlight glances off the calm surface of Greely's pond a
quarter of a mile away.  The forest around the house is peacefully quiet.
   A month later a Mexican woman will travel to Orchidea from Los Angeles
for an interview. A cab will drop her off and she will walk up to the house
behind the overgrown fence and ring the bell. She will be young and
beautiful but quiet. She will be lovelier than Rosalva and less cruel with
the babies. And after a year and a half she too will be taken to the
basement and exquisitely used up.
   WOODBURN