## Archive-name: dragging

"You could make this a lot easier on yourself by cooperating," I told the small brunette who lay naked on the concrete surface of this unfinished highway. It was Sunday and no workers were here, and no traffic would pass along this road to nowhere. The brunette, Mary it said on her driver's license, lay on her stomach, her ankles tied to her thighs, her wrists chained in front of her and a long chain running from her wrists to the trailer hook on the back of her car. She was covered with welts from an electrical cord I'd found in her trunk, all her finger and toe nails had been ripped out, and I'd used a pack of matches on her, but she remained uncooperative. I was getting impatient, partly cause this ski mask was so uncomfortable for me, and she was running out of time. It'd been fun hearing her scream and beg and watching the tears pour out of her soft brown eyes and down her smooth cheeks, but it wasn't what I wanted now. Besides, she didn't seem to have any tears left.

"I don't want to hurt you," I told her. "Most times I would, you're very pretty," - which she was, small but voluptous with black hair and an olive complexion - "but not now. It's your friend I want, the one you were shopping with yesterday. I'd seen her several times before then, but I'd never been able to catch her, or even learn her name or address. You can tell me. I'm going to have her eventually, your suffering isn't saving her, it's just keeping her safe a little longer. Tell me her name and address, and as soon as I've got her I'll let you go. No one need ever know your part." I stood astride her and bent down to squeeze her ample breasts. "They're so soft and smooth," I told her. "Do you have any idea what this road will do to them?" She didn't answer. "Talk now, or I'm dragging you up and down this highway till you don't have an inch of skin left."

"Please don't," she said, in a voice more sad and tired than frightened, "you can do what you want with me, but I won't tell you what you want to know. You're not getting my friend, no matter what you do to me, and what good will I be to you after I'm all ripped up? Just do what you want with me then please let me go home, or kill me if that's your plan. Busting me up more won't do you any good."

Well, she had a point. If she wasn't going to talk I wouldn't be getting anything out of her today. The last two weeks of stalking the downtown for another glimpse of HER, and most of today working on this tasty Italian dish, had left me with a great hunger, but as desperate as I was I didn't expect her to appeal to me very much after I took her drag racing.

"You're right, Miss, you won't be of any use to me when I'm done dragging you," I told her as I picked her and laid her on her back on the her car. I dropped my pants, then slid her down onto me and thrust hard into her. With my pent up need being what it was, this wasn't much of a fuck, as I came very quickly, then dropped her onto the road. "Now there's no reason why I shouldn't bust you up. Unless you're ready to talk. This is your last chance. Well?" She shook her head and started to cry softly. "Have it your way. I noticed the crucifix you wore. Would you like to make a final confession? Even if you survive your trip, you probably won't be in any condition to make one then." "Fuck you," she said through her tears. "Such language from a good Catholic girl!" I replied. "Besides, you already did." Pity she didn't want to confess. It was always fun making a confession that included relaying a woman's last confession to the priest and watching him go nuts when he heard the circumstances in which it was given. It's really a shame what's happened to the religious avocation in this country, it's made it so hard to find a church where the priest doesn't recognize my voice. Even after a couple years they go nuts before I've even told them how long it's been since my last confession. Of course, the fact I'd been forced to shoot a couple had contributed to the shortage.

I started her car, and drove off slowly. The chain was long enough that I could see her in the mirror for a moment as she lay there watching the tautening of the chain before her arms were jerked forwards and she began to scrape along the concrete. I drove slowly and without any sharp turns for a long time, glancing frequently in the rear view mirror as she was was dragged along, the flesh of her breasts and hips and thighs being spread across the road. When I'd driven long enough to be sure she'd been skinned in front, I did a sharp turn and hit the gas so her body was turned over, and given how uneven a surface she offered with her legs tied back like that she began bouncing over the road. After a few minutes of this I drove off the highway and dragged her over about a half mile of grass before I reached my van. Stopping the car, I got out and picked up the chain and pulled her the rest of the way by hand. She looked even worse than I'd expected, with much of her skin (and nearly all of it in front) scraped off and several toes missing. She had many obvious fractures, even the one's that didn't feature bones sticking through the skin were easy to spot. Her arms were distended and her wrists were bleeding where the chains had torn away the flesh. She'd managed to do a fair job of keeping her head off the road surface and despite some cuts and bruises had no major damage there. Her reward for this valiant effort was to have remained alive, and, amazingly, conscious throughout the ordeal. A fine piece of luck for me. I opened the door of my van, reached in and grabbed a blindfold and a steel rod, then took the chain just above Mary's wrists and slid the rod thru one of the links, then grasped the rod at either end so I could lift her up without getting her blood on me, and carried her towards the open door of the van.

"See what you've done?," I said to the beautiful blonde secured with abundant leather restraints in the back of the van. Sherry's blue eyes, already wide from the sudden exposure to light when the blindfold was removed after so long a time, widened even more at seeing Mary so battered and broken, and began to flood with tears. Sherry squealed something into her gag, I couldn't tell what. I hung the rod on a pair of hooks on the inside of one of the van's doors so I could look into Mary's eyes. The shock and incomprehension I found there was delicious.

"I'd been hunting this treasure," indicating the blonde captive, "for weeks. At first I planned some really exquisite tortures for her, but over time I realized that this is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in the flesh - and such nice flesh it is - and it would be a terrible waste to destroy her beauty so quickly. I'll hold onto her and use her other ways until she's less of a goddess. I caught sight of her yesterday and followed you two all over the city. When you finally separated I was able to catch her at last. But things don't always work out like you'd expect, for all her beauty she's an ordinary fuck. After my long hunt I needed more than that, but I couldn't do anything really fun with her. I remembered how cute you were and asked where I could find you. She didn't want to talk either, but hold a vial of acid over that face and you can drag all kinds of things out off her. The most amazing stuff was coming out of that lovely mouth, she could have made good money in phone sex. The best thing to pass those lips was your address. Yours, and those of a couple other girls I'll pick up another day; she assures me they're real cute. You know, Sherry, I'd never have marred your face. I'll bet you're real fun to play poker with. But I think not, I think I'd rather play poker with Mary," I said as I picked up a long thin rod with one sharp point and raised it to those soft brown eyes.

Steven S. Davis sd@magenta.com

Last modified (12/24/96 16:09:33) by Eli-the-Bearded.

Go back to the main erotica page.