The following story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to anyreal 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. 
                                
                                      Stryker's Prey


	Stryker walks down the steps.
	He places the plastic card in the computerized ID-slot and enters through the
first door as it swings slowly open, a heavy iron portal, like a bank vault. 
	The door hisses and clangs shut behind him and he walks down a narrow
passageway lit by small overhead track-lights to a second door, identical to the first
which he opens with the same ID card-key. That door too closes behind him as he
moves down a slightly wider hall.
	He walks slowly and purposefully. It is the walk of an aristocrat, a man
accustomed to wielding power. Merciless power. He wears a black shirt and black
slacks. His black buckle-strapped boots tap out the slow ominous rhythm of his walk
on the concrete floor. Around both wrists he wears black leather bands with gold
studs. His skin is dark tanned, almost bronze-hued, and his hairless face has the
texture of snakeskin, his eyes terribly green, his mouth an expresionless slit.
	Beyond the door through which he has just passed are the torture chambers,
a maze of several large well-equipped rooms beneath his beach-front mansion.
	His men have brought the women here, the mother and daughter and the
three teenage girls. 
	Stryker enters the main chamber through a heavy wooden portal which he
closes softly behind him.
	His men have handcuffed the blindfolded victims to the bare masonry wall,
wrists up above their heads.
	Some of the females are sobbing softly. The others are in silent shock.
	Stryker's men, in black leather pants and boots, black leather straps which
cross their bare chests joined at a circular metal O' ring in the front, black hoods
on their heads, black, gold-studded wrist-bands (like their Master) wait for his
instruction and stand near the women, their hands at their sides.
	Through the eye-slits in their hoods their eyes gleam hungrily.
	At Stryker's request the victims have been left untouched (except for the
inevitable manhandling necessary in their abduction).
	The mother and daughter, both pregnant, wear summer-light maternity
outfits.
	The teenage girls wear casual clothing, shorts, cut-off jeans, sleeveless tops,
sandals. One bitch, an angelic brunette, wears tight red shorts that highlight her
exquisite abdomen and which mark the perfectly luscious swell of her cuntmound.
	Each woman has been carefully picked to fulfill Stryker's cruel demands.
	All of them are shapely, large-breasted cows. Very large breasted. None of
them are smaller than a cup-size 38C and the two pregnant women are ripe and
bursting with the promise of nourishment. All are pretty, clean and with that certain
suburban look, that idiot-like innocence that comes from a life without conflict.
These are upper-middle class girls used to a colorless existence of comfort and
leisure, well chosen for their ability to provide delicious suffering for this sadistic
master.
	Slowly Stryker makes an inspection of the captives, walking past the
blindfolded beauties and taking in each lovely, white-bread, hometown-America
face. 
	"Excellent," he says softly.
	The girls quiver at the sound of the voice. It is a dark, ominous hissing.
	Stryker runs a hand through the silky mane of the blonde teenager. He traces
the outline of the freckled redhead's cheek. He cups the cunt-mound of the dark-
haired girl wearing the tight red shorts making her gasp and turn her face to one
side, brows furrowed. Gently he runs the back of his hand over the heavy tits of the
three teenage youths.
	"Mmmm - yes," he says in that same dark voice. "Yesss -"
	The hooded men watch him move to the mother and daughter. The two
women are beauties, both with long lustrous blonde manes down past their
shoulders.
	They look like the women found in the ads in Good Housekeeping magazine.
	Lovely, classic, homespun and desirable. Absolute apple-pie. 
	He places both hands on the daughter's big belly.
	"How far along is she?" he asks without turning to the leader of the three
hooded figures.
	"Seven months," the man answers behind Stryker in a neutral voice.
	"Good," Stryker comments smiling.
	The other two look on.
	Stryker moves to the mother.
	She's in her mid-thirties, classy, almost glamorous, her blonde hair and make-
up perfect, finger- and toe-nails (tanned strap-sandalled feet) manicured and painted.
Her tits are huge, voluptuous globes...sweet, fertile, exquisitely swollen whoreflesh.
	Stryker looks at her blindfolded face for a few moments.
	He takes her chin in his hand, leans forward and licks her lips.
	The woman flinches away from him making a sound of disgust.
	He laughs and slides his hands up under her maternity dress to clasp her big
belly.
	"...And this one?" he asks.
	"Five months," the hooded man replies, his hand pressed to his crotch.
	"And they are mother and daughter?" Stryker asks now, looking over his
shoulder for a moment at the man who answers his queries, standing between both
females with one hand on each swollen belly.
	"Just as you ordered," the man replies in the same neutral tone.
	Stryker smiles. He knows his requests have not been easy to meet. But, once
again, his men have come through.
	Calmly, he steps back to study his five female prisioners.
	A few anxious moments pass and he observes the uncertainty of the women.
	Blindfolded, they turn their heads from side to side, listening carefully to each
small sound, lips slightly parted, lovely, warm, red mouths gasping or downturned in
anguished, helpless expectation. In the pale fluorescent light they are captured
angels, deliciously innocent.
	Stryker always relishes this moment. The moment before it all begins. 
	They do not know where they are or why they are here but he knows they
are beyond asking now. He can see in their anxious blindfolded faces that their
worst fears are slowly becoming reality. Their terror is perfect. They have felt his
hands on them and heard his voice.

	Now, the ritual can proceed.

	Stryker gives the command: 
	"Strip them."
	The black-leather men move in. Hard strong hands seize flimsy flower-print
dresses, pink and white blouses and tops, soft lace brassieres and panties.
	There is the savage ripping of clothing, breathless cries, twisting, angled
bodies, the clattering of the chains as manacled wrists twist and tug, bang into the
wall, hands drawn into helpless fists, the females pulled this way and that by the
savage rending of their garments, the huffing and snorting of the attackers as they
move down the captured bodies tearing everything away, reaching down to yank
off stockings, sweatsocks, sneakers, sandals.
	Stryker looks on smiling, watching, until the captives stand before him
completely nude, torn clothes, like discarded husks all around their bare feet.
	The hooded men step back and Stryker now approaches the young naked
females again going from one to the next removing their blindfolds. He stares into
the horrified eyes of each slut for a few moments before moving on. When he
removes the blindfold of the last girl, the freckled red-head she starts to say
something.
	"...please..." she mutters softly, but before she can say anything else Stryker's
hand closes into a fist which he drives fast and hard into her lower belly.
	"Uggghh!" she grunts, winded, unable to bend forward though her body
instinctively demands it, held upright by her manacled wrists.
	"You will not speak unless spoken to," Stryker growls calmly and drawing
back he punches the young girl again in the same spot watching her writhe and roll
back against the wall, her head tipping back, eyes shut tightly.
	"That goes for all of you," he adds, glaring at his victims.
	The captive females are in awe of him. 
	He is six foot four, powerfully built, like a wrestler, bald-headed, terrifying.
His eyes are phosphorescent gray-green, hawk-eyes in a snake face, cold and
calculating, his thin-lipped mouth cruel. 
	They watch him take off his shirt and toss it aside to expose his muscular
physique and the terrible tattoo on his hairless chest, between both chiseled
pectorals. It is a heart, the kind of heart which is nowhere near anatomical
correctness but which belongs on a Valentine's Day card. Through the middle of this
red-inked, roundly-sculpted cartoon heart there is a dagger pierced all the way
through so that a fat drop of blood oozes from the pierced organ and down the slick
blade. On each side of the bisected heart there is a letter, an 'M' on the left, an 'S' on
the right.
	And below the heart, on a scrolled ribbon the legend:
	"Woman-Killer."
	"I am Max Stryker," he tells the females his eyes skipping from face to face
staring them down until they look at the floor.
	"I take pleasure from hurting young girls and women...from hurting them
badly and often killing them."
	One of the girls whimpers. The pregnant woman bites her lower lip, looks up
at him imploringly.
	"Please..." she moans. "My baby...my daughter's baby..."
	Stryker's fist flies across her face with a hard thud smashing her head back
against the wall.
	He steps up to her to smack her pretty face back and forth with sharp
stinging open-handed blows that make the other women cringe.
	"BITCH! DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME!?" Stryker shouts, marking each word
with emphatic blows, fore-hand then back-hand, to the pregnant cow's face:
	"You - will - not - SPEAK - unless - SPO-KEN- to!" 
	When he is finished a trickle of blood spills from her broken lip down her chin
and on to her large milk-swollen tit. Her cheeks are flushed deep dark red.
	"You and your daughter mean shit to me, cunt. Shit. And the worm inside
you is just meat to me...MEAT! You are all just fucking MEAT to me!"
	He paces back and forth in front of the women in the charged silence of the
chamber like a lion in a cage, wiping a streak of spit from his lips with the back of
his hand. Beating the pregnant woman has excited him. Sweat glimmers on his
forehead over his insane eyes. Again he pauses as he reaches the red-headed teenage
girl on the end, looking at the red blotch in her belly where his fist pummeled her.
He fixes her with his eyes and she whimpers face downcast. She can sense him
there, the heat and desire, the evil inside his powerful coiled body. He leans down to
whisper in her ear teasingly:
	"...meat...just...lovely...tasty...wonderful...woman-meat..."
	He turns to the men.
	"We'll take this little slut first."
	His cold eyes trail back to the red-headed girl. Her eyes look up into his
pleadingly.
	"Rape her. Rape the shit out of her."
	Her lips gape disbelievingly and she looks up at him her eyes wide,
bewildered, his words as sudden and hurtful as his fist into her belly.
	"Yeah. You heard right, bitch," he snarls, his eyes never leaving hers as he
talks to his men.
	"Rape the little scumbag... rape 'er on the floor. All three of you at the same
time. Let's show these worthless cunts we mean business."
	Almost immediately Stryker's men strip, kicking off boots and pants but
leaving on their hoods and the leather straps that are like harnesses around their
torsos, to move in on the helpless youth, release her wrists from the manacles and
pull her down to the floor.Their cocks are already fully erect and upright, hard and
heavy javelins of manhood. 
	She struggles weakly in their strong hands as they position her, push her
down on her knees, one man lying on his back on the floor beneath her between
her pale smooth thighs, she made to straddle him, the other two holding her over
him, pulling her legs apart to mount her on top of the first man. One of them
handcuffs her wrists behind her and slowly they impale her on the upstanding prick
bearing down on the crying whimpering girl-victim then pushing her shoulders
down and forward, so that her big tits press into the prone man's hairy chest as she
is forced to lie on top of him. The second man puts his massive, rock-hard shaft
between her creamy buttocks and holding her by the hips slides mercilessly up her
asshole making her screech piercingly. The third man grabs her head by a shank of
her flowing red hair and crouches down, knees bent slightly, to draw her twisted,
sobbing face to his prick. She submits to the three way fuck now defenseless, her
mouth wide and full of cock, her ass and pussy full of pumping stabbing manflesh.
	Stryker stands over the three-way rape, his hands on his hips, arms akimbo,
like a foreman supervising a construction crew.
	"Yeah!" he grunts, encouraging his men. "That's it. Fuck the little bitch.
Break 'er."
	The other women bound to the wall look on in horror as the teenager is
viciously and thoughtlessly violated, her wailing muffled by the manmeat in her
mouth. 
	The three thugs fuck the helpless youth with savage grins of pleasure on their
hooded faces. They fuck with cruel loveless thrusts that wound and choke their red-
headed captive. They pant breathless, sweating with the exertion of the savage,
unprepared, unforgiving coitus and she rocks on her knees, writhes and whimpers,
gags as the thug who stands in front of her holds her head by a fistful of hair to
slam his shaft in and out of her lovely pink mouth.
	The comments of the men make the other women captives shudder but only
make Stryker smile as his crotch bulges hugely.
	"Goddamn twat's so tight...uuhhhh..."
	"...sweet little piggie..."
	"YE-ah baby - that's IT, ba-by - press your little pussy around me - uu-ohhh
yee-aAHH!"
	"Look at me!" the man who is fucking her face shouts at her.
	Her eyes, full of terrified confusion angle upward to the black-hooded dark-
stubbled face and the greedy stare of his dark brown pupils as his cock thrusts deep
into her throat making her gag and gasp, a stream of warm drool spilling from her
lips around the invading shaft. Her eyes wince with visible pain, almost close, spill
tears as the other two assailants slam their pricks in and out of her un-lubricated,
virgin loveholes, scraping stretching and bleeding the tender flesh...but she goes on
looking up at the hooded, inhuman face that gloats on her suffering...goes on
looking up obediently.
	Stryker steps around behind the man so that he can peer down at her over
his shoulder.
	"That's it, slut," he tells her. "Take what's coming to you...take it..."
	She pleads with Stryker with her eyes. Looks up at both men above her
pleading. 	
	But they just stare back, cruel and hard, feeding on her horror and her pain.
They are like animals feasting on her.
	The vision of the hapless teenage girl on her knees bent slightly forward,
hands cuffed behind her waist being so mercilessly rapefucked on the floor of his
private torture dungeon thrills Stryker. It thrills him more deeply more resonantly
than anything else in his life. This is his life. This is all there is: the mind-numbing
pleasure of destroying young women and girls, of filling the subterranean rooms
with their shrieks of horrible pain and their breathless terror, of torturing them and
mutilating their beautiful bodies until his man-hunger is satiated. This long slow
dance-ritual of destruction is all there is for Stryker. There is nothing else.
	He circles around the rape victim carefully observing each detail of the savage
scene: the huge, knob-headed cocks pistoning into her and emerging slicked with
wetness and virgin-blood and shit; the big hairy hands of the men seizing and
mauling her pale flesh leaving dark-red grip-marks as they move her, tug her, pull
her this way and that.
	He likes the way the handprints look on the pale freckled skin of the girl. He
likes her helplessness, metal-cuffed hands sometimes limp sometimes reaching,
fingers extended or splayed then crumpling, fisting as cock-flesh stabs impetuously
into her most private depths.
	He likes the way her leg and arm-muscles ripple and tense, the way her skin
flexes as she is penetrated, nailed, jammed by his servants.
	But most of all he likes to see her face, still looking up at the thug who now
completely fills her mouth. Her face and the faces of the others.
	Women's faces. Soft. Gentle. Lovely faces turned, angled, compassionate,
vulnerable. Its their goddamned faces that get him harder and harder...and he unzips
his slacks and takes his prick out to massage its hot hard demanding massiveness.
	It is the pregnant daughter who looks at his cock first and she makes a
whining sound in her throat calling the attention of the others who stare in dumb-
struck terrified amazement.
	Stryker's cock is fourteen inches long and nearly two inches wide.
	It is a cock to kill with.
	It is a billy-club of hard cyclopic masculinity and on its wedge-shaped crown,
right on the glans, beneath the peeled back foreskin, the women can see the same
tattoo that resides on his chest, a smaller version of the cartoon heart, dagger-
pierced and bleeding, glistening with pre-coital lubrication.
	Slowly, he strips naked, tossing his slacks, socks and shoes into a corner of
the chamber, and he struts out in front of his captives, languidly stroking the
enormous emblazoned appendage, struts back and forth, like a rooster in the
henhouse, while the young red-head sobs pitifully on the floor beside him, pistoned
and pumped from all sides.
	Watching, he jerks off. Licks his lips. Smiles, his eyes swollen now into
narrow slits with pleasure.
	After a few moments he tells the men:
	"Enough. Get 'er up. Hang 'er by her wrists - her and the other babes.
	We'll get to the knocked-up bitches later."
	Immediately, Stryker's servants unsheath their pricks from the red-headed
teenager and she slumps to the floor on her side as they rise. One of the men goes
to a video command-screen on the wall and touches a sensor-button. There is a
whirring mechanical sound overhead and three heavy polished metal chains with
manacles dangling from them descend from the ceiling at four foot intervals. The
other two men first lift the raped red-headed teenager from the ground and drag her
across the room. They remove the handcuffs from her wrists and lift her arms
upward into the black leather manacles that extend from the overhead chain.
	After cuffing her there they release the two other teenage victims from the
wall and hoist their arms straight up, cuffing them on the chains also, so that the
three pretty naked busty teenagers stand up on their toes, upstretched, all in a row,
ready for whatever punishment their heartless captors deem fit.
	Stryker paces slowly from girl to girl taking in the beauty of their captivity,
their up-reaching arms, their cuffed wrists and pleading fingers, the stretched
abdomens, the sharply defined rib-cages and plump up-standing tit-mounds, the
strong smooth flare of hips and bellies, the firm shapely legs. The defeated stance of
the raped redhead is a nice contrast to the nervous fidgety, tension of the other two
youths. The redhead hangs her head sobbing softly, tears dripping off her face and
on to her magnificent boobs.
	She can still taste cock in her mouth and her cunthole and asshole ache and
trickle lube-juice. The hand-prints of her rapists are still etched on her asscheeks and
hips and thighs though they have already begun to fade. 
	The dark-haired girl glances up at Stryker nervously. He smiles and she looks
down. She is quivering.
	Such a lovely young filly, long dark hair hanging in tressles almost to the
middle of her back...pale white skin, creamy and firm. Such plump curvaceous
thighs. Slowly, languidly, Stryker strokes his prick as he stands right in front of her,
thinking of what he will do to her lovely body. Still caressing himself with his left
hand he reaches out to tease her pussy with his right, slipping his long bony third
finger up between her warm pussy lips and pressing upward against her clit, the girl
closing her eyes and wincing, shuddering, biting her lip in consternation,
involuntarily whimpering.
	"You little whore..." Stryker whispers fiercely.
	She responds instantly to the urgent coldness of his voice, glancing up at him.
	When she does, her eyes are immediately lost in his sharp green gaze.
	When he speaks to her his terrible voice seeks complete and unconditional
surrender.
	"Do you love me?"
	She is dumbstruck, her lips parted, her breath halted.
	"You have permission to speak," he tells her.
	He licks his lips, rubs his finger up into her slit teasing the vaginal hole as he
looks at her.
	"...I..." she mutters.
	"Yes?" he beckons.
	She hesitates, wonders which answer to give, her pretty brown eyes
searching his.
	When he speaks its in the tone of a teacher instructing a slow student, one
who requires patience.
	"Say: Yes, Master. I love you with all of my heart."
	Still she hesitates lost in the emerald ice-fire of his glaring eyes.
	Gently, he pushes his finger up into her cunthole. It is tight and dry.
	This little bitch too is a virgin.
	"Say it..." he urges smiling as she spreads her legs apart to allow him access.
	"...I..ahm...I...l-love y-you...."
	He pushes his finger in deeper into the snug fit of her young vagina.
	Her eyelids flutter.
	"....m-m-Master..."
	He nods, his smile widening.
	"...w-with...ahh...with..all m-my - my -uhh- heart..."
	Still holding her with his eyes he slips his finger out of her.
	Then without the slightest warning he punches her pussy mound with a quick
jab-thrust hitting just below the spot on her lower belly he'd struck earlier. 
	Her eyes go wide and she gives out a little cry then with all his strength he
punches her dark-curled mons again and again and again making the young girl cry
out and try to escape, her legs clenching together as she hangs helpless before him.
	"Stupid slut," he snarls the smile gone from his face and replaced with a mean
scowl as he stands over her both hands fisted, thinking about hitting her some more,
slightly bent forward like a boxer, letting the sweet rage flood through him, his
victim again hanging her head submissively between her upraised arms.
	She will be the first to die, he thinks to himself, already anticipating the warm
coppery taste of her young adolescent blood.
	He moves now to the flaxen-haired blonde grabbing her delicate chin to tilt
her head back, looking into her tear-filled green eyes for a moment.
	"Open your mouth, slut," he tells her roughly.
	She complies and he spits right into it.
	Her face twists in disgust and he spits, this time on her pretty face, right in
her eye, blinding her, making her cringe, holding her by the chin hard so that she
cannot turn away. He looks down at her naked body as his bubbly phlegm  spills
from her lips, trails down her cheek. He releases her chin, walks around her. Looks
her up and down.
	She is a juicy bimbo-slut. The kind of girl all the players on the high school
football team want to take into the parking lot to fuck her brains out, to pop 'er
cherry and pork 'er in the back of the car or on the floor of the van. The kind of girl
who'll go all the way all the time. An easy lay. A filthy little whore-tramp.
	He's pretty sure this one's not a virgin.
	Again he circles her.
	She has a wonderful ass, big and full, round, her buttocks two slabs of
perfectly sculpted fuckmeat. 
	He reaches around from behind her to slide his hand over her pussy to poke
his finger, still wet from the brunette's vise-tight pussy, into the blonde victim's
vaginal aperture. It slides in easily, just as he thought it would.
	This little bitch has tasted cockmeat. 
	He steps up behind her and bending his knees he grabs her asscheeks to poke
his huge ramrod cock up between them kicking her legs apart. He puts the head of
his huge organ right up to the puckered star of her anal opening. Unlubricated and
unprepared he begins to push the veined meat-spear right up into the hanging
wailing teenage fuckslut.
	His hands move up to her big soft tits to clutch them hard and hold her as he
penetrates.
	This hole, Stryker concludes with a mean smile, has never been breached.
	"No!" she squeals. "No! No! NO! N-NUuuuhh-O-OOohhhh!"
	Growling, he dips his head forward to sink his teeth into her shoulder, biting
hard, feeling muscle and bone under his teeth as he clamps down making her squeal
desperately.
	Stryker's men circle around jerking off and shouting, jeering, egging him on.
	He relaxes his jaw muscles letting the flesh slip out of his mouth, leaning back
to see the ugly red bite-mark imprinted on her skin.
	From their bondage to the wall, the two pregnant blondes watch in horror.
	The raped redhead hangs in catatonic silence and the lovely dark-haired
wench sobs inconsolably.
	The captured women know for certain now that there will be no escape, that
they will face barbaric agony, perhaps even death, in this horrible and inexplicable
place at the hands of these monsters.
	Just a few brief hours before they had been strangers shopping in the mall:
	Diane Weston and her daughter Sherry, both ironically pregnant at the same
time and buying up all kinds of things for their babies which would soon be arriving;
	Julie Whitmore, the pretty redhead, visiting her friend in the city for a few
days and shopping for a present;
	Amy Hill, the sweetly innocent, creamy skinned brunnette who'd been bored
at home and had gone to the mall for no specific reason; and finally, the bimbo-
blonde, Stacey Matlin, who was supposed to meet her latest boyfriend, Mike, at the
movies on the west end of the mall.
	They had been kidnapped at gunpoint, tied up and dumped in the back of the
van like so much baggage, and driven calmly right out of the mall lot by the same
three burly, hooded men who now urged their leader on. 
	Sryker's servants had tracked the Weston women for weeks and waited for
the perfect opportunity to take them. The three others had been picked completely
at random in the busy mall. Lovely young teenage girls with big tits...that was the
main requirement. 
	And now they were all here, witnesses and participants in the orgy of
destruction.
	Stryker slides slowly out of Stacey's tight rectum, she giving out a moaning
sigh as his giant appendage pops free, he wiping the shit off his cock on her fleshy
asscheek, her anus dripping blood down the back of her thighs. He walks to one end
of the chamber where there are several formica wall cabinets.
	He opens one and takes four slender single-tongued whips tossing three of
them out to his men and keeping one for himself.
	The whips are about four feet long and braided, made of black leather, sturdy,
lethal.
	"Time to put some hurt on these little pups..." he calls out. "Time to give 'em
what they deserve."
	Each man takes a suspended victim and without prelude the whips began to
leap, swoop and fly across luscious girlmeat.
	In disbelief, shock, terror and pain the girls cry, shriek, kick, twist.
	They try to escape one hooded flogger only to encounter another as they
spin, held upstretched by their suspended arms, leather manacles tight enough to cut
off the ciculation numbing their hands.
	Stryker moves from one bitch to the next dealing out sharp slicing blows. He
likes the loud sharp crack of leather on bitchflesh. He is his element now, at the
center of his existence. 
	The teenage girls move beautifully to the harsh pain he deals them. They cry
and scream. They beg for mercy. They beg for it to stop. Stryker dislikes this
distraction so early in the ritual. He has one of his men gag them with huge red-balls
strapped to their wide gasping mouths as the whippings continue.
	All four men now whip the three teenage girls mercilessly. Braided leather
snakes flash across slender waists, curving backs, tender thigh-meat. The girls kick
and twist, sometimes stand on one leg, the other leg pulled up, bent at the knee in
response to a particularly vicious sting of the whip. When this happens the men aim
their lash-strokes across the standing leg, whipping ankle and calf, trying to get the
little gag-mouthed bitches to hang from their wrists in painful suspension. They
accomplish this several times making each unfortunate girl a momentary focus and
target of their savagery, making her swing from the chain and spin, feet up off the
ground as the whips fall and fall and terribly fall. Sometimes the whips catch pink
furrowed foot-soles and the gagged cries of the teenagers are desperate and the
muffled sounds elicit only more terrible pain from their sadistic masters.
	Julie, the freckled redhead who had been viciously raped earlier, is no longer
catatonic. Her eyes are horror-wide and her teeth bite into the rubber ball-gag. She
makes rasping unintelligible sounds in her throat as her flesh is wipkissed, kindled by
the demonic fire of the lashes. Amy and Stacey, the long tressled-hair brunette and
the trampy blonde slut take the whipping with beautiful, spasmic, dance-like
movements.
	Stryker moves from one bitch to the next now concentrating his expertly-
timed slashes on their luscious boobs.
	What delicious tit-meat, Stryker marvels...how pleasurable to send his lash
against it and mark it...Mark it with vicious red welt-lines that criss-cross youthful
jutting nipple-nubs and plump meaty orbs. Always as he begins his attack, the little
bitches try to spin around but as they do they are met on the opposite side by the
equal assault of one of his men and inevitably they swing back into position their
feet slipping on the stone floor as they circle, up on their toes, gagged faces sweaty,
tear-washed, streaks of hair across their suffering eyes. And while one man whips
her back, drawing lines of burning skin-pain on shoulder-blades, on flank and
buttock, Stryker castigates the twin targets of his choice, tit-whipping her, looking
right into the eyes of his suffering wench. 
	Sometimes all four men circle one of the young bitches to flog rhythmically
away.
	Amy, finding herself at the center of the four merciless braided whiptongues,
screams into the gag, head angled back, eyes staring at the ceiling and the chain that
holds her wrists high and pissing herself as the whipfire consumes her.
	"Pig!" the men shout.
	"Whore!"
	"You're gonna piss blood soon, you little slut!"
	They move to Julie who takes the fierce unrelenting beating rigidly, eyes
glazed, her body shuddering uncontrollably, a whining in her throat gradually
growing louder until it is a mindless, single-note drone of human female agony that
breaks off with a wheezing grunt as the men move on.
	Stacey dances for them with whinnying shrieks going up on one leg,
pirouetting, both legs off the ground, on her toes, hips swinging as the whips kiss
her belly, swinging around and around inside the circle of men, their erect cocks
pointing in at her, they jerking off as they beat her, one foot drag-skipping as she
lunges forward, one thigh pressed up against her belly, whips finding every
vulnerable spot, nipples, upper-thighs, pussylips, two or three times even her face.
	And then when it has reached an unbearable peak, Stryker calls it off.

	Its time for the Westons now, pregnant mother and pregnant daughter.

	Its time for some real torture.

	Now the men are hungry for it, starved for it. They are pumped up like a
pack of wolves before the kill. 
	
	The three whipped teenage girls are left hanging from the chains, gagged,
sobbing, Amy standing in a puddle of her own piss, Stacey resting her head against
one shoulder, eyes spilling tears and tightly shut, Julie biting her lip and staring at
the floor in a daze, occasionally racked by gulping sobs.
	The men jerk off slowly and look at them, whips still dangling from their
hands. Hungry predatorial eyes feast on the scene of destruction. Stryker licks his
lips and wipes a sheen of sweat from his forehead. He revels in the symmetry of the
three hanging victims, their perfect young bodies welt-streaked, here and there
purple-bruised. He revels in the counterpoint of their responses, the way each young
female body moves and shifts consumed in the heat of whipped flesh as if in the
throes of pain-fever. He drinks it in and lets his men drink it in before moving on.
	Following his orders the men toss the whips aside then move across the room
to release the two pregnant women from the wall and bring them to the metal shaft
that extends from floor to ceiling in one corner of the torture chamber. The shaft
rises from and into circular steel donut-hole plates and the floor-block around its
base is made of wood. There are faint dark stains on the wood and what appear to
be holes from which nails have been pried.
	Diane and her daughter, Sherry are placed standing on this wooden base with
their spines against the cold black shaft, which is about a foot and a half in
circumference, mother and daughter back to back. They are made to clasp their
hands, fingers clenched together as they look from hooded face to hooded face,
terrified, searching hopelessly for some sign of mercy. They do not find it and they
are handcuffed to each other by wrists and ankles, legs pulled slightly apart and
back to facilitate the bondage. Their legs are then pulled further apart and ankle-
cuffed to metal spreader bars. They glance nervously in Stryker's direction as he
oversees the carrying out of his instructions but they say nothing, finally hanging
their heads as the men step back away from them.
	Stryker looms over Diane. He reaches out and takes her by her wimpy
blonde hair pulling her back to bring her face right up to his, his breath on her lips.
She trembles and tries to turn from him but he holds her effortlessly and she can't
help but look into his terrible blood-hungry hawk-gaze.
	"Kiss me, whore," he whispers hoarsely. He is right up against her, his erect
cock pressing against the hugely swollen belly of his pregnant captive.
	"..nnnnhhhhhh..." she whinnies involuntarily shaking her head from side to
side.
	"No?" Stryker growls pressing up harder against her. "No? Are you trying to
tell me you don't want to kiss me? Huh? Is that what you're trying to say, you
stupid pig?"
	He takes her face in his hands gripping her by her ear-lobes.
	"Listen, cunt....are you listening to me?"
	She nods peering at him, eyes gleaming wetly between half-slitted mascara-
tinged lashes.	
	"You're gonna kiss me like you love me or I'm gonna cut your daughter
open and rip her baby and her guts out and make you eat them....you got that
fuckface?...You got it?"
	She nods slowly knowing he is not bluffing, knowing there is no way out.
	It is this clear knowledge reflected in the eyes of his victims which feeds
Stryker's demonic soul and as the woman yields to him leaning up to cup his lips
with hers, so soft, warm, sweet and moist - a real pleasure kiss - the bitch not
holding back, but giving him exactly what he demands, he takes and takes from her,
feeling his cock pulse, throb, expand painfully and demandingly. Still holding her by
her ears he thrusts his tongue deep into her mouth tracing the contour of her teeth
and gums, her palate, her captive tongue which tenses against his submissively. He
drags the kiss out smearing his lips on the captive wench pressing her back against
the cold metal shaft, nibbling on her lips, his spit drooling down her chin, staring
blankly into her half-closed, dilated pupils, taking his sadistic pleasure then releasing
her suddenly to circle around and take her daughter, both of his huge strong hands
around the young pregnant cow's blonde head.
	"Your turn, sweetie...The same goes for you..."
	Sherry nods slowly.
	"You understand don't you?" he says coming right up to her. She feels his
organ against her big ripe womb like a hammer of flesh.
	"You wouldn't want anything to happen to your mommy, would you? Or to
your little baby brother or sister....whatever that worm in there happens to be...now
do you?"
	She starts to shake her head but he swoops down on her to bite her mouth
hard and as she cries out, her voice swallowed in his throat he kisses, sucks and licks
her face, her cheeks, her slender neck. He bites her tongue, biting hard, until the
little cry in her throat becomes a scream then he steps back and slaps her hard
across the face three times silencing her.
	"Filthy fucking sluts..." he snarls. Then to the men who,stand nearby
watching and jerking off, "Get the needles...Activate the heat panel...Its time to get
some blood out of these bitches..."
	The men split up, one going to the command-video screen on the wall, the
other two to the formica cabinets on the wall. At the screen Stryker's servant
touches another of the sensor buttons on the screen provoking a whirr of machinery
behind a wall near the women bound to the black shaft. A section of the wall five
feet from the floor slides down and a circular dark iron pan on the end of a metallic
arm emerges. The pan is about two feet wide and there are electrical heat coils
inside of it which begin to glow red instantly. The other two hooded servants return
from the wall cabinet with handfuls of hypodermic needles encased in small plastic
shrink-wraps and a pair of wicked looking metal pliars. One of the leather-harnessed
men takes a folding table which leans against the wall and places it beside the bound
pregnant women opening it up, he and his companion tearing open each shrink
wrap to lay the two-inch-long needles in rows on the wooden table next to the
pliars. 
	When the men complete Stryker's instructions they resume their positions in
a half circle around mother and daughter slowly jerking off and watching their
Master begin his work.
	Stryker decides to start the proceedings with the mother.
	Taking the pliars in hand he picks up a needle and holds it over the heat pan.
	Diane Weston begins to cry.
	The needle begins to glow after a few moments, a tiny wisp of smoke coming
up off its surface as Stryker brings it close to the woman's fat, milk-gorged boob.
	"I'm gonna hurt you, pig," he says softly. "You and your filthy
daughter...both of you...I'm gonna hurt you very badly..."
	Holding the pliars with the smouldering needle in one hand he stands in front
of the lovely pregnant blonde. Taking her left breast by the nipple he pinches the
nub of flesh until it is hard between his thumb and forefinger then pulling it and her
tit along with it up and away from her chest he brings the hot tip of the needle on
the end of the pliars up from underneath piercing the flesh-jug and pushing the
needle up, deep into her pap. She screams sharply. Sherry sobs in response as does
Amy who hangs suspended from the chain watching from the other side of the
torture chamber along with Julie and Stacey.
	He likes to see the needle sink into the woman's fat tit. He likes to see it fuck
the tender meat.
	A trickle of milk erupts from the nipple as he releases the needle to pick up
another and hold it in the heat pan.
	He leans down to lick up the white cream and suck on the pregnant cow's
pierced tit.
	When the next needle is ready, smouldering dangerously he brings it to the
other tit.
	Again he teases the nipple, raises the fat flesh-globe and pierces it from
underneath.
	Again, beautifully, Diane Weston screams and her daughter and the others
sob.
	The hooded men watch as patiently, expertly, taking his sweet time and
enjoying each slow anguished moment, Stryker heats up the needles and pushes
them into the pregnant woman's boobs. Occasionally a tiny drop of blood snakes
down from one of the pierce-points. Both tits dribble milk and even spurt it.
Delightfully, the milk-jets occasionally speckle Stryker's tattoed chest. He hungrily
licks the warm creamy excretions up off the sweetly perfumed flesh of his all-
American blonde mother-whore. He drinks her milk and sucks and bites the
distended nipples while he stabs needle after needle after needle deep into the core
of each jug. The hot metal pins sometimes hiss as they enter her cool flesh making
her squirm, head snapping back against the metal shaft, she unable to move, held in
strict bondage against her daughter on the other side of the pole.
	After placing twenty long hot needles in each of the big tits he pauses, jerks
off while he admires his handiwork.
	Diane's boobs drip sweat, milk and blood down her heaving chest. She is
crying, her face disfigured, tiny black trails of mascara down her pretty cheeks, her
mouth down-twisted, lips parted.
	This is what Stryker loves to see: the tortured female victim, defeated,
helpless, violated.
	He takes her nipples, one in each hand, between thumb and forefinger. The
firm brown flesh-caps he has purposefully left untouched and they spill more milk
into his hand as he pinches them gently looking into the suffering blonde's beautiful
weeping eyes as he teases her. He tugs at them and smiles as they harden
involuntarily. Leaning forward, his erect cock-club pressing into her pregnant belly,
still playing with her fat nipples, he kisses Diane on the lips tasting her tears and her
sweat. He jiggles her needle-pierced boobs while he kisses her looking right into her
eyes at close-range. She whines weakly and he feels the vibrations of the sound in
his own throat.
	"Pig!" he snarls suddenly releasing her and sending a resounding slap across
his bound blonde captive's picture-perfect face.
	She cries out, her head twisting away from the impact, her body pressed back
against the cold metal shaft, arms flinching upward but held down by the cuffs that
secure her to Sherry's wrists.
	Stryker now asks his men for more needles and he moves to Diane's
daughter.
	Sherry is a younger, more tender replica of her mom. Her facial anatomy
slightly different, more oval where Diane's is rounder, her eyes slightly bigger and a
deeper shade of blue. But the expression of terror is similar.
	Brows arched upward, her knees visibly shaking as Stryker comes around to
face her and gently take her big aching paps in his big strong hairy hands.
	"Your turn, bitch," he says softly.
	She watches him hold the first needle over the heat-grid.
	She has heard her mother's sharp screams and the anticipation of the pain
makes her dizzy, makes her mouth dry and her throat constricted, makes her
tremble and tense up.
	"Yeahh..." Stryker responds, his demon-like smile lighting up his evil face as
he sees the effect he is having on her.
	"Yeahh, little pig....get ready....get ready 'cause here it comes..."
	He raises the pliars to show her the red-hot, smouldering needle.
	She shakes her head, eyes narrowed and tear-blurred, her lips quivering.
	She watches the needle brought up under her tit, Stryker taking the nipple to
extend the mammary out from her body, the pliars rising...rising...the sharp sudden
prick of pain and the deep terrible burning from underneath...her mouth yawns
wide, her head angles backward...
	"Aaaaiiieeeee!"
	Her first scream is delicious, the revolt of her healthy young pregnant body
amusing her captors.
	Stryker's men jerk off and circle in for a closer look at the suffering bitch.
	They watch her, watch greedily as each needle is heated, shown to her, and
then pierced into her big beautiful papmeat.
	Each piercing brings a lovely shriek and a terrible shuddering from the
defenseless victim.
	Sherry is far more sensitive to pain than her mother, and the torture of her
big lovely tits is almost unbearable.
	After the sixth needle and the deeply anguished response from her daughter,
Diane blurts out:
	"Nooo! Pleeease! Don't hurt my daughter anymore! Ohh Goddd! Pleeease!
Hurt me! Hurt ME, you sick bastard....leave her ALONE!"
	Stryker comes around to face Diane, his face severe, his hawk eyes gleaming.
	"You filthy stinking CUNT!" he roars.
	"How dare you disobey my direct orders?"
	He takes Diane by the throat with one hand which begins immediately to
squeeze the breath from her.
	"...And you dare INSULT me in my own house?"
	He turns to one of the hooded men.
	"Bring me some barbed wire for this cow!"
	The man goes to the formica cabinet and brings Stryker a three foot stretch
of aluminum fence wire with tiny bladed barbs all along its length as well as a pair of
work gloves.
	Stryker dons the work gloves, takes the wire and standing beside Diane he
brings it up between her forced-apart legs. Holding the wire in front and behind her
he snags her pussy-slit with it and begins to saw it back and forth slowly, pressing it
up into her tender cuntmeat until she's whining and sobbing and begging for mercy.
He ignores her and continues to rip the barbed wire into her womanmeat until
blood spills down the inside of her thighs. He pulls the wire upward as he saws it
back and forth tearing her clit and pussy lips and gashing her tender lovehole and
her anus.
	"Bitch!" he whispers hoarsely. "Maybe I'll just cut you in half with this, huh?
Maybe I'll cut you and that little worm inside you both in half and watch you bleed
on the floor...whatta you say? Filthy scumbag! Calling me names..." He saws into
her harder, slower, viciously... "...Calling me names under my own roof. I'm gonna
make you pay, fuckface. You and your filthy daughter. Both of you are going to
pay dearly now. I was just gonna have a little fun with you. But now you are gonna
suffer big-time." 
	This last part is a lie. His intentions have been extreme right from the start.
But he enjoys the effect his cruel words have on his captive. He likes the fact that he
is making her feel responsible for all that will follow and that she will, in the hours
ahead, believe that her little outburst caused all the terror and destruction he will
wreak on the other victims.
	Diane shakes her head, looks at him imploringly. But he just goes on sawing
the wire into her.
	Blood drips on the floor, on the spreader bar, on her arched insteps.
	"...filthy whorefuck...yeah...now you're gonna pay and pay until you can't pay
any more... you and all the other whorefucks. Now you're gonna see Stryker at his
fucking BEST!"
	Suddenly he takes the wire from her bleeding pussy and with a quick, deft
move wraps it around her throat tightly, chokingly, tangling some of her hair up in
the wire-strand. The blades cut into her skin and the pressure makes it difficult to
breathe. She gasps for air, eyes wide as he knots the wire in place leaving her to
struggle for each breath, unable to speak, her mouth wide open, her head rigidly
upright and held there by the tangled hair in the choke-wire. 
	Still wearing his work gloves he reaches into her yawning lips pinching her
tongue to yank it out of her.
	Picking up a needle and heating it up over the coiled-grid he brings it to her
wet drooling tonguemeat.
	"Fuckbag!" he growls and without hesitation he pierces the red-glowing pin
into the pregnant cow's tongue, right into the middle of her tongue, right through it,
all the way through it, as she gurgle-screams and rocks on her bound feet and pulls
on her cuffed wrists. He drives the pin through the woman's tongue from the right
to the left until it rips out the other side then taking another needle he pierces the
bitch's mouth-muscle from the top to the bottom. Blood spurts from the pierced
appendage down her chin and throat. Her nipples spurt more milk on his chest. The
large pins form a cross which does not allow the tongue to be retracted back into
the mouth and the helpless bitch drools spit and blood, choked by the barbed wire
around her throat and tangled hair.
	Stryker steps back jerking off, the sensation of the blood-stained work-glove
interesting on his ramrod prick.
	"That should teach you to speak out of turn, bitch," he snarls. Then to his
men:
	"Flog her. Use the lead-tipped dog-whips. Don't hold back. Hurt the bitch.
Use her like the fuckbag she is. Let's see if we can make her and her daughter shit
those babies out on the floor today."
	Sherry now sees Stryker return to her. She sees the men take the dogwhips
and sees them go around behind her to attack. She cannot see what Stryker has
done to her mother and imagines the worst. But then all her thoughts are wiped
clean as she sees him raise the pin with the pliars...the hot glowing pin which is so
sharp, so long, so terribly long and smouldering...Every thought except the
anticipation of that terrible pain disappears and she trembles before her Master,
trembles and shivers in exquisite helplesness.
	"...no...n-no....no....n-nhh...nnn...no..." she sobs softly as he brings the heated
pin to her big milk-spilling boob.
	Behind her she hears the sharp thud, wack, crack, slash of whips on her
mother's naked pregnant body as Stryker's men surround and castigate their
helpless target.
	As the pin enters Sherry's left breast from the side and is pushed deep into
the cortex of her milk-filled gland she emits a shrill cry of agony and her unseeing
eyes focus on the whipped teenage girls that hang from their wrists by the chains.
	Inside her, the baby kicks desperately reflecting her own mindless panic and
Stryker laughs as he sees her belly twisting, mis-shapen by the movements of the
unborn infant. 
	On the other side of the metal shaft, Diane takes her punishment enveloped in
gasping drooling agony, jerking, surging, going up on her toes, flinching as the
hooded men passionately beat the front of her body with the leaded dog-whips. Her
pin-festooned tits and barbed-wire torn pussy take vicious slices that bruise and tear
her smooth female flesh. She takes well-aimed cuts to her plump thighs, on the front
of the thighs, on the sides, on the upper thighs in the most sensitive areas, up near
her bleeding cunt, down near the knees, on the knees, on her shins...and she shakes
and quivers trapped, dizzy from the lack of oxygen, seeing spots before her eyes,
the barbed wire strangling her slowly but not terminally... Most of all, the men
heartlessly whip her big pregnant belly, hard, relentlessly, driving the hard lead tips
which are the size of almonds into the stretched, bloated abdomen.
	Her baby, further along then her daughter's, is in a frenzy inside her punching
and kicking and twisting as the men outside fiercely vent their fury on its mother.
Unable to contain herself Diane, grunting and gasping under the whipping, punished
from the outside and from the inside, feels a terrible contraction around her waist
and a stream of shit and turds explode from her asshole and spatter the bloodied
floor between her bound legs. The men jeer, laugh, call her names and keep flogging
away at her. 
	Stryker leaves Sherry momentarily to take a look at the damage his men are
inflicting on Diane. Literally they have whipped the shit out of her and they are
going on and on heedlessly, viciously.
	"That's it," he comments taking the next pin and heating it up as he watches
the flogging of the mother-cunt. "That's what she deserves. Give it to 'er! Give it to
'er good!"
	He returns to Sherry once again.
	The young bitch is in a daze, drool and tears spilling off her face.
	Stryker licks his lips, wipes the sweat from his eyes.
	The destruction of mother and daughter is a tremendous dark thrill for him.
	His huge cock-club arches upward and he bends his knees to rub the tip of it
into Sherry's pussy-slit, the heated pin in the grip of the pliars in his gloved hand.
	There are already almost thirty pins in the bitch.
	He takes this last pin and tweaking her right nipple until it is hard, looking
right into her eyes he presses the glowing shaft into the rigid nub of flesh, gripping
her nipple, pulling it upward to push the needle all the way through the screaming
pregnant bitch's tit-cap.
	The daughter's shriek rises above and joins the din of cracking whips and
grunting, choked mother-pig and Stryker urged upward by his demonic hunger
penetrates Sherry's pussy pushing himself up into her fat pregnant womb, ripping
open her pussyhole with his massive killing cock.
	The young bitch's pierced nipple spills hot blood down her ribcage and the
other tit shoots thin jets of milk on Stryker's arm and hairless chest. He drops the
pliars on the table and grabbing Sherry by her hips with his gloved hands he fucks
into her, ram-filling her pussy-hole and making her scream wildly as his fat penis
gouges her, the crown entering and exiting her in this awkward position, arching up
into the pregnant slut as her big belly, squeezed against his hard thrusting abdomen,
flexes grotesquely.
	For a few more passionate moments Stryker fucks his bitch in this punishing
position, revels in her suffering, watching his men destroy his fuck-toy's mother on
the other side of the shaft with the leaded dog-whips, knowing he is in complete
charge of this crazed orgy. He is overcome by the power of his sadism and as
always when this stage is reached he thirsts for slutblood.
	He licks up the trickles from Sherry's pierced boobs and the taste of the
pregnant victim makes him swoon. 
	Womanblood is so terribly, terribly sweet.
	Almost unwillingly, he slides out of her.
	He signals his men to cease the whipping of Diane.

	The moment to take this orgy to a higher climax has arrived.


	Following Stryker's terse and precise commands, one of the hooded men
touches a sensor button on the video screen in the wall.
	There is a soft whirring of machinery in the ceiling of the torture chamber
once again.
	Near the metal shaft to which pregnant mother and daughter are bound three
meat-hooks connected to metal cables descend from a trap-door overhead. The
metal cables from which the hooks protrude are linked and connected to the black
shaft on which the tortured, tit-pierced victims await: Diane, whipped bloody
standing in her own shit, tongue and tits needle-pierced, barbed wire around her
neck; her daughter, Sherry, boobs covered and stuffed with pins, pin-pierced nipple
swollen, bloody and oozing blood-streaked milk.
	Both mother and daughter look on with dazed hopelessness as the three
whip-punished teenage girls are freed, one by one, from their manacles and
ungagged (Stryker wants to hear their screams now; needs to hear them) then
brought to the metal meat-hooks.
	Stryker, who has removed his work gloves, sits in a comfortable, ornately
carved wooden chair across the room, like a king in his throne, watching his men
carry out his instructions.
	The little bitch Stacey is chosen first.
	Jerking off slowly, Stryker watches his men drag the struggling young blonde
woman to one of the meat-hooks.
	While two hooded servants hold the unfortunate teenager with her arms out
in front of her the third man expertly pierces the sharp metal spike through one of
the little bitch's wrist then the other impaling her on the cold steel, she screaming,
babbling and bleeding. Then, taking a blowtorch from the floor beside him, the
hooded man fires it up and runs the flame against the teenage girl's grossly pierced
wrists to cauterize the wounds.
	Amy and Julie sob loudly and beg for mercy. They beg Stryker to stop, to let
them go.
	Diane and Sherry know begging is useless and they just look at the floor and
weep quietly. They know one or more of them, perhaps all of them, will die here in
this chamber.
	In her own mind, Sherry still clings to the frail hope that the monster will take
pity on her and her mom. That they have been separated from the other three
victims in order to be spared. But she knows that the monster is not through with
them. Not by a long shot. Quietly she prays that she will be able to survive the
ordeal. She prays for the strength she will need for her and her mother who, she
knows, though she cannot turn to actually see the full extent of it, has already been
severely damaged physically and psychologically. She is surprised to find herself still
relatively calm and focused even though the pain and heat of her pierced
mammaries and nipple flood her senses. Her lips are parched with thirst but she
dares not ask for water, dares not speak at all knowing the dire consequences such
action could have.
	Instead she bites her lip and prays. Prays for herself and for the others that
the men will exhaust themselves before they inflict too much damage. And yet, she
thinks, will He really let them go after they have seen his face? Aren't they all
already irreversibly doomed? She is ashamed of her next thought...let it be the
others and not us. Please. If He has to kill someone...let it be one of the others....not
me...not my baby... 
	Returning to the video-screen, Stryker's hooded servant touches another
button.
	The same mechanical sound recurs and the young blonde is raised upward off
the floor by her pierced, meat-hooked wrists crying, begging and whining. There is
a lound mechanical click in the ceiling as of gears engaging and suddenly the weight
of the hanging teenager begins to lift a mechanism inside the black shaft to which
the two pregnant bitches are bound. As the weight of the meat-hooked girl bears
downward two blades emerge from the floor at the base of the black shaft and rise.
The blades are strategically placed between the legs of the pregnant cows and they
rise toward the unprotected pussy-slits of the unsuspecting victims. The teenage girl
hangs some six feet off the ground from the high ceiling of the subterranean
chamber and eventually the resistance of the mechanism seems to overcome the
pressure of her weight so that the blades in the black shaft stop their upward ascent.
	Stryker smiles.
	The mechanism has been calibrated to the specific weight of these victims.
	Only when all three teenage girls hang from the meathooks will the blades
rise all the way up into the pussies of the pregnant mother and her daughter.
	And even then, the full weight of the three teenagers will not be allowed to
govern the mechanism until a final release button is depressed.
	Stryker's men now go for Julie, the teenage redhead.
	Her struggle is not quite as lively as Stacey's and she allows herself to be led
across the room. But when the meathook pierces her wrists her body is suddenly
posessed by a wild rictus of pain. Her screaming pleas are absolutely heart-rending
making Stryker salivate and smile wickedly.
	Again the blazing torch is applied to stop the bleeding, furthering the victim's
anguish, and the young raped bitch is hauled upward.
	The mechanism clicks and takes her weight.
	The sharp steel blades rise higher up the black shaft and Sherry hearing the
friction of metal against metal looks down over her big stomach between her legs to
see the blade on her side coming up between her legs.
	"Ohhhh Godd noooo! Noooo! Ohhh Jeeesuss!" she screams. "Ahh....no...m-
mmhh... momma...mohhmm?...gghhhh...no...no...."
	Diane's terrified eyes too look down in response to her daughter's cries and
she is able to see just past the swell of her huge whipped belly as the sharp metal
blade moves upward slowly with smooth hydraulic certainty.
	Choked and tongue-pierced she can say nothing but her gasping and head-
shaking betray her horror.
	Stryker is in seventh heaven.
	Before bringing the third teenage girl to the last meat-hook the hooded men
now approach the two pregnant bitches. 
	One of the men has long black six-inch nails in his hand and a small sledge
hammer.
	They go to the daughter first.
	Looking down Sherry sees the two hooded men take her legs, one on each
side, firmly grasping her by soft thighs and strong calves, to press her feet down
against the wooden base around the shaft. Both men look up at her. Their mouths
are sneering, half-smiling. One of them shows his mean, small teeth in an ugly snarl.
	The third man takes a nail, positions it just above her big toe.
	"Ooohhh Godd...no..." Sherry groans realizing what is about to happen.
	Raising the sledge hammer, the hooded man in front of her drives the black
metallic spike through her foot with three decisive strokes.
	The awesome pain draws a wailing shriek from her as she watches the man
now drive another nail right through the middle of her small well-pedicured limb.
	Moving to the other side he repeats the process effectively nailing the
screaming pregant bitch to the base of the shaft.
	Then the men move to Diane and nail her to the floor. For the hell of it the
hooded man drives three more nails into the whipped mother-slut, one through the
small digit of her left foot just above the pink-painted toe-nail ripping the tendon and
muscle and shattering the frail bone to pieces.
	The blowtorch is used again to cauterize the awful wounds.
	Finally, Amy, the lovely brunette teenager who, though she has no clue, will
be the first to die, is brought to the meat-hook that will suspend her for her final
punishment and which will add the required weight for the blades to slice upward
into the pregnant cows' cunt-slits.
	Stryker watches the men drive the meathook through her delicate wrists and
apply the blowtorch. Her screams are like those of a younger girl, like those of a
child, high-pitched and pitiful and he feels them in his surging cock. She cries out for
her mommy, regressed by the terrible pain and the horror of her predicament to the
helplessness of infancy and Stryker, now rising from his throne, inhales deeply,
flexes his strong hands, moves slowly across the room toward her.
	The hooded servant in control of the mechanism raises Amy's wrists high
above her head by her impaled wrists but observing his Master's instructions does
not raise her completely off the ground, leaving her stretched upward on her tippy-
toes.
	From the table where one of his servants has placed it Stryker now takes the
implement he will use on Amy.
	It is a set of silver-metal teeth set in a hinged jaw which he now slides into his
mouth. His own teeth fit into the jaw's outer frame which is lined with rubber
allowing him to grip the device. The inside of the jaw consists of an upper and a
lower row of sharp, piranha-like teeth, about a half inch long in the front and
receding to a quarter of an inch in the back; the back of the hideous mechanism is
open allowing passage into Stryker's throat.
	He tests the mechanism by clicking the teeth agains each other. The hanging
girls look down at him and he sees the terror in their eyes. He knows how hideous
he must appear to them and he smiles a killing metal smile of death.
	To the young females his appearance is monstrous now, his cock fully and
impossibly erect, but, incredibly, the transformation is not yet complete.
	From the table he takes the bladed gloves, black rubber claws with short
blades on the end of each finge, the ones he thinks of as his Freddy Krueger gloves.
	He pulls the gloves on and waves his bladed fingers in the air.
	The women cry and plead and he laughs and his men laugh.
	He has become a nightmare-figure, a horrible ghoul thirsty for girlblood.
	Amy stands on her toes, suspended before him, completely and utterly at his
mercy shaking her head, crying, begging. Nothing in her short life has even slightly
prepared her for this moment. Always the pretty young teenager has been
pampered, coddled, told how pretty she is. The world has shown her only kindness,
deference and sweetness, never sorrow, never doubt. She has never even been
spanked; in fact she's hardly ever been scolded. All her short life she has been a
good girl with good grades, quiet and obedient, mindful and respectful.
	Now she sees Him approach, she looks up into those hungry hawkslits, He
towering over her though she is pulled up almost off the floor. He is so...BIG. His
cock is an ugly tentacle pointed threateningly at her as now He raises His arm to
strike, steel-claw-glove catching a glint of light.
	With a snarling growl He swipes the clawed glove across her big juicy tit.
	The blades slice her tender skin open and she bleeds instantly screeching in
response to the sharp cut-pain. He swipes down across her other tit slicing the nipple
clean off the young innocent bitch. Her feet leave the ground as she kicks and flails
helplessly and He moves in.
	Opening his silver-toothed mouth Stryker takes her juicy bleeding pap, the
one that still has a nipple on it, into the grip of the metal teeth. He takes as much of
her tit in his mouth as he can handle, the nipple at the center of the radius of his bite
and with all the strength in his jaw he clamps down on the unfortunate child's
titmeat. She stiffens as his claw-gloved hands grip her by the hips slicing into her
skin and with a tearing motion he rip-bites half her tit-mound off, nipple and all to
chew it, hot sweet girl-blood flooding his mouth and throat as he devours Amy's
living flesh.He takes her other breast now and rips two huge bites out of it leaving
only jagged bleeding meat in the place of the luscious well-shaped orb. He moves
inexorably down her body taking hard deep bites of her hips and flanks blood
spurting on his face and hands and chest. He steps back momentarily to slap-swipe
at her soft belly and thighs with his claws leaving beautiful, thin-line bleeding stripe-
wounds only to move in again to take bites of her sliced-up flesh moving down her
legs, feasting on her exquisite thighs, ripping deep bitewounds in her of central and
lateral muscle and flesh. He pushes his bladed fingers up her twat ripping her young
pussy open, moving in like a rabid dog to devour her vaginal mound and lips as she
kicks and wails hanging on the meat-hook, her strong youthful body responding
energetically to his lethal assault. He bites into her knees clamping his jaws shut
harder and harder until the bones snap and he scrapes the flesh and bonebits up into
his mouth to chew and swallow. Going down on his knees while his men watch him
mesmerized and jerking off he turns Amy around and begins a methodical savaging
of her lovely legs, taking ripping, deep-gouging bitefuls from the posterior of her
thighs from her chunky asscheeks to the back of her crushed knees and down the
juicy calves which he attacks with snarling barbarity sinking the steel teeth deep into
tendon and muscle, holding them in her for a while, clamping deeper and finally
tearing his head back with a shout to scoop big chunks out of her, all the way down
to the bone.
	He devours her heels and crushes the ankle bones in his jaws, chews and tears
off her toes savoring one at a time, hard bony morsels of young female.
	Moving back up he slams his bladed fist up her bleeding snatch, reaches up
inside the poor screaming, torn-apart, teenage girl and takes a pincer-hold of her
uterus to rip out the inside of her pussy and bladder while he fastens his steel jaw on
her buttocks, greedily feasting on the plentiful girlmeat.
	The other captives watch in frozen horror. The gruesome and unprovoked
attack of the pretty teenage girl is too much for them to grasp. Julie has already
begun to lose her reason. Diane, lost in the haze of her own agony watches in awe,
her pinned tongue lolling between her swollen lips and bleeding as she drools
incessantly. Sherry shuts her eyes tightly and turns her face against her shoulder.
Stacey moans, whimpers and looks up at her own meat-hooked arms stretched
upward, her feet dangling in mid-air wondering if Stryker will come for her next.
	Swinging Amy around again like a puppet Stryker tears into her belly,
angling his pistoning jaws to tear through the abdominal skin into her guts. Shit and
piss evacuate from the victim as he opens a hole in the middle of her just below her
belly-button and reaches into her with his claws to pull her small intestines and a
piece of colon out of her. Her throat is scraped from her constant screaming but
after this last hideous invasion her cries become breathless and unintelligible as he
rises to stand in front of her, raise her bloody ravaged broken legs to pull them
apart, ordering his men to hold her open as he lifts his huge prick up into her ripped
apart vagina. 
	He slams up into his teenage bitch clutching her by her armpits with bladed
claws and sinking his teeth deep into her tender throat to bite deep, hard, relentlessly
through her jugular, her blood spurting rhythmically into his mouth and face and
neck and chest.
	He leans back to hilt his cock deep in her. As he does, his hooded servants,
carried away by the inhuman brutality of the attack pull Amy's legs up and back
dislocating her hips, tendons and muscles tearing and rending as the little bitch
shudders and with a long sighing gasp dies, her eyes rolling back in her head as
Stryker fucks her gutted broken body mercilessly.
	He fucks the dead girl with all the energy he's able to muster while his men
hold her lifeless carcass for him. He stands on his toes in her eviscerated guts which
puddle on the floor and ooze out of her as he slam-bangs her. Her guts run down
his thighs and legs. He takes bites of her shoulders and up-raised arms, feeding on
her while he fucks her. Then he steps back and lets his men have her. They
penetrate her torn asshole and pussy and fuck her dead body, growling, grunting
like dogs, ejaculating on her and in her.
	Stryker moves to Julie who hangs catatonic four feet from the ground, her
pretty legs level with his shoulders.
	"You're...so....quiet..." he growls, blood and gristle spilling from his steel-jawed
mouth as he looks up at his next sexy young victim.
	He reaches out and slowly, gently runs a bladed forefinger down the
redhead's pretty dangling left leg from the back of her knee to her foot leaving a
thin red blood-line. Her limb kicks responsively to the sharp pain but she makes no
sound.
	"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
	He chuckles sickly. Behind him the hooded men savage Amy's dead body.
	Julie looks down on the monster as He now takes the other leg by the ankle.
On the leg He has cut she feels the blood pooling and dripping off her heel.
	She is in another world, a world no longer human. She is in an underground
world of demons. The Demon King has captured her. She has watched the Demon
King eat a girl. There is no other reality. There never was. The Demon King is all
there is...and now she sees Him take her clean, pretty leg and she sees His sharp
metallic teeth bared, one of his claws gripping her ankle, the other at her knee, his
jaws closing at the midpoint, into her shinbone with a crunch and then she is
screaming, screaming, screaming like a little girl in a nightmare, a long ago forgotten
nightmare, and the Demon King is smiling, her leg in his horrible mouth, in
response to her cries and the taste of her blood. She hears her bone snap in His
jaws, sees Him reach up with both claws and scrape His blade-nails into her from
her luscious boobs down her belly, down her thighs to her knees as He releases her
to leave her hanging there crying, squealing, bleeding, one leg broken, a biteful of it
missing as He chews, the other leg kicking, toes downpointed like a ballerina's
frozen in mid-leap.
	"That's right," he snarls. "That's how I want you, bitch...just like that...nnrrhh
JUST like that...!"
	He strokes his cock slowly with the rubber palm of the bladed glove staring
up at her.
	She looks down (her eyes lost and feverish) and sees only the Demon King,
steel-toothed, steel-clawed, mouth, hands and cock covered with girlblood.
	Without warning he takes one of her dangling feet and sinks his metal teeth
deep into the white lightly freckled meat of her arch. Her sobbing cries become wild
piercing shrieks as he clutches the trembling foot to his mouth, clamping in to the
bone, tearing the skin off her to eat it, then biting off her big toe.
	With an animalistic snarl he grabs her other foot as she weakly kicks at him
and he tears a chunk out of it then seizes her ankle in his jaws hard, harder, harder
until the slender bone cracks.
	He reaches up and claws at her pussy while he bites her legs, small bites at
first then bigger ones that go into the rippling muscle. Holding her by one bleeding
leg he reaches up and pushes his bladed fingers up her snatch to fuck her and cut
her open. He sends his extended third finger deep into her anal passage and twists it
inside her until blood and shit trickle down his arm.
	Then after bite-ripping the big toe off her other foot he steps back shouting at
his men to raise Amy's dead body up on the meathook.
	They obey him wordlessly hauling the pretty teenager's mutilated cadaver up
off the ground on the whirring mechanism which now responding to the weight of
the three teenage victims raises the blades on the black shaft relentlessly up into
Sherry and Diane's pussies. 
	Both pregnant women begin screaming simulteanously.
	The black blades are shaped like scmitars, curved upward like half-moons,
with dagger-like protuberances placed strategically to penetrate cunt and asshole. As
these protuberances pierce and cut the pregnant wenches their screams become
shrill and they bang their heads against the shaft.
	"Yeah! YEAHH!" Stryker shouts.
	His men shout along with him.
	The blades sink into the two bitches and cut their lower bellies but do not
slice past the epidermal layer, the full weight of the three teenagers still held in check
by the hydraulic mechanism.
	Peeling off the bladed gloves Stryker now takes the pliars.
	One of his men brings him the thin aluminum tubes. Each tiny tube is nearly
seven inches long, one end concave and needle-sharp. 
	He picks one up with the pliars and shows it to Diane, bringing it up to her
face.
	"You see this, cunt?" his words are distorted by the metal device in his mouth
but clearly understandable.
	She nods, trembling, almost on the verge of passing out from the stress on
her mind and body. She can feel the blade pressing against her pregnant belly, the
sharp steel in her asshole and vagina and small trickles of blood oozing down her
forced-apart legs. Held completely immobile against the shaft by her arms and by
her feet which are nailed, like her daughter's, to the base of the platform, she's
horrified by the possibility of the dark blade slicing up into her and Sherry's
pregnant bellies opening them like ripe watermelons, an event all the more probable
in her mind considering the butchery of the teenage girl which she has just
witnessed. Diane knows with all certainty now that this monster is capable of
anything.
	Stryker begins to heat the tiny tube on the heat panel.
	"I'm gonna put it in your filthy tit. I'm gonna burn your tit with it. Burn it all
up inside...When I'm done, your fucking boob'll be worthless for the rest of your
fuckin' life..." he pauses to sneer cynically at her for effect. "...which, all things
considered, may not be very long anyway..."
	Now, standing over Diane, his horrible steel-jawed mouth still dripping the
blood of the girls he has grossly cannibalized, holding his new victim steady by one
shoulder he pushes the sharp end of the hot aluminum tube slowly into the pregnant
mother-cow's lovely fat nipple. She lets out a low trembling bellow as the tube slides
into the heart of her boob, ripping through the main lactiferous ducts, cutting blood
and milk out of her, her big pap quivering like custard making all the pins stuck in it
jiggle as Stryker smiles and smiles, pushing deeper and deeper. Her flesh hisses and
smokes as the tube sinks into her completely destroying the inside of her fat
whoreboob.
	When he comes up against her rib-bone Stryker pauses.
	She looks up at him, pinned tongue unable to recede into her pink swollen
lips, mouth parted and panting, eyes shimmering with tears.
	"If I do decide to let you live, pig," Stryker tells her calmly, his words
transformed into hideousness by the metal tooth-and-jaw device. "You and the
worm inside you - you'll only have one tit to feed your baby with now. Is that good
enough for you? Huh? What do you think? Can you make do with just one of your
big jugs?"
	Slowly, Diane nods, her eyes looking for his mercy.
	"Yeah?" he asks sarcastically. "You think so?"
	He picks up another aluminum tube and begins to heat it on the panel.
	"Of course there's always baby formula..."
	Diane whines and shakes her head. She tries to plead with him but her pinned
tongue wagging and bleeding makes her speech almost impossible to understand.
	"Pleeehze! Ahh-ghh-n-nnaaghhh- noohh! N-noohh! eeahh'll oo ahhttt oouu
ahhnt -ppleehhz! ohnt uuhrt mmee - nnggooohh!"
	Stryker's men laugh at the sounds she makes.
	They are covered with bloody pieces of the dead teenage girl they greedily
plundered and now they are erect once again, ready for more destruction, gleefuly
anticipating their Master's every move.
	Stryker positions the heated tube over Diane's remaining nipple.
	"What do you think, guys?" he asks his men. "Should I leave this pig one tit
to feed her filthy baby? I think she told me she'll do whatever I want if I don't hurt
her anymore."
	"Fuck that!"  one of the men shouts. "Put it in 'er! Burn her big tit! Gouge it
out of 'er!"
	Stryker looks into Diane's pleading face watching the effect the cruel words
etch there then, suddenly, he circles around the other side of the shaft, seizing
daughter Sherry by one shoulder and pushing the tube into her one undamaged
nipple.
	Taken completely by surprise Sherry squeals as the sharp hot aluminum
pierces through the tip of her nub and enters her burning. As Stryker pushes the
tube slowly into the depths of his young whoreslave's breast the invasive agony
envelops her and she shudders, her head rolling back as the inside of her milk-gland
is terminally ravaged.
	Sherry screams. Her mother whimpers. The men jeer, laugh. One of the men
spits in Diane's face.
	Stryker heats up another of the aluminum tubes on the heat panel.
	"Who's next I wonder..." he muses sadistically. "Momma? Or her sweet
daughter? Or maybe we'll just slip this little tube right into one of your big fucking
bellies to kill whatever's in there...Isn't that a lovely idea?"
	Both women weep and plead disconsolately as Stryker circles both female
victims holding the red-hot aluminum tube in the pliars.
	He stops in front of Diane.
	Spittle runs down off her cheek.
	Blood oozes off her pierced tongue which now is swollen and red.
	Her eyes are bloodshot and tear-filled.
	Her lovely blonde hair is a mess.
	He takes her by a shank of it.
	It is silky in his hand as her lips quiver and gape, pinned tongue between
them.
	"You won't need to nurse anymore, fuckface." Stryker sneers cruelly and
gripping the bitch by her head he savagely pierces the tiny heated tube into her
remaining nipple, searing, piercing, pushing to the hilt, fucking her tit with the
blistering metal, then pushing further lodging it in her rib-bone, leaving her
hyperventilating, almost fainting as he steps back.
	"...Still wanna live?" he asks her.
	She nods weakly, shivering, her eyes unable to hold his anymore, sliding
away.
	He circles around to Sherry.
	There is one little tube left.
	He takes it with the pliars, begins to heat it.
	"You've still got one tit left to feed your litter with, cow...Wanna keep it?" he
asks cruelly.
	"Y-yes, sir," Sherry groans, writhing, looking down at the tube on the end of
his pliars and back at his merciless, steel-toothed face.
	"Pleeeease don't hurt us anymore...pleeeease?" 
	He takes her by the hair.
	"Yeah!" the men growl. "Yeah, Stryker! Give it to 'er!"
	His eyes greedily consume her.
	He raises the pliars with the needle-tube glowing on the end of it.
	"You're really pretty," he tells her, his hot breath in her eyes. "You know
that?Hmm? How about if I give you a choice, pretty girl."
	She looks at him, wide-eyed, brows furrowed.
	"Your face or your nipple. That's your choice. The needle's gonna go in one
or the other. Which one will it be? Your face or your nipple?"
	"P-pleease.."
	He takes her by the throat choking her.
	"Make your choice or die! Now!"
	"N-nnuhh-nipp-nipple..."
	"Vanity, vanity, all is vanity sayeth the prophet," Stryker sing-songs. "A
whore'll do anything to save her face. You want it in your nipple? Here it is. Take
what's coming to you."
	Assertively, with his free hand he yanks out the pin he'd pierced in Sherry's
nipple earlier. A tiny gush of blood spews from the wound and without hesitation he
stabs the blazing tube-pin deep into the young woman's bleeding mammary-tip. She
howls and rocks, tries to go up on her toes but is held down by her nailed feet. Her
chest is on fire. A plume of smoke rises from her pierced bleeding titmound.
	"Ahhh..." Stryker groans, fiendishly glowering as he pushes the thin tube to
the hilt in the pregnant woman's fat breast. From Sherry's lovely boobs, just like
from her mother's, the end-tip of the tubes jut from the blackened auerolae, the
nipple ripped open like a singed flower-bud.
	"I believe we're ready to milk these cows..." Stryker voices gloatingly.
	One of the men brings a device, a scuba-tank sized cylinder on a hand-cart
from which four rubber tubes dangle.
	The cylinder is placed on the floor near the two pregnant women and the
tubes are connected to the tiny spears which jut from mother and daughter's
tortured jug-crowns.
	Stryker pulls the pins from the tit-meat watching the thin trickles of slutblood
ooze down sweaty, gasping rib-cages, and fat pregnant bellies. He slowly draws the
pins from Diane's swollen tongue...slowly, leaning forward to lick up the warm
bloody droplets that slide down her neck...She glances up at him with gratitude
drawing her tongue back into her mouth, her eyes searching for more
leniency...Instead, he sneers and flicks a switch on the side of the cylinder. Diane's
eyes suddenly go wide.
	There is a soft buzzing sound and the men jerk off watching as the women
cry out, arch their backs and struggle against their bonds, the clear plastic tubes
leading to the cylinder filling up with dark red blood streaked with milk and bits of
flesh. After a few moments the fat breast orbs begin to collapse inward and the
female cries become screeches of indescribable agony. 
	Diane's head twists up to the ceiling and she screams raucously.
	When the once lovely tits are mis-shapen, blood-drained and sagging, Stryker
shuts off the device.
	One of the hooded men brings wine-glasses from a cupboard.
	From a tiny plastic nozzle on the other side of the cylinder the mixture of
Diane's and her daughter Sherry's blood and titmilk is poured into the crystal
goblets then passed around.
	The men drink the warm human excretions.
	They dip their cocks in it.
	Now they are dangerous predators.
	Julie, her mutilated legs and feet bleeding, cries for help, senselessly beseeches
at the soundproofed ceiling for escape, her pierced cauterized wrists spilling more
blood around the edges of the meathook.
	Stacey joins her in babbling hysteria, both teenage victims kicking their legs
in mid air and jerking around desperately.
	The movement of the hanging girls causes the blades to rise up the shaft a
little further.
	Diane and Sherry begin to jiggle uncomfortably and sob as the blades
threaten to slice them in half.
	Stryker faces his two pregnant captives.
	"I will allow one of you to live," he tells them as he strokes himself, smiling
his hideous blood-dripping metallic smile. "Only one..."
	"Which one of you will die that the other may be saved?"
	"M-my daughter..." Diane blurts out, sobbing and hanging her head.
	"Let m-my uughhhh....let mm-my d-daughter live..."
	"No!" Sherry screams turning her head back, trying to see her mom. "No!
Take me! Me!"
	"This is soo inspiring," Stryker replies cynically.
	The two teenage girls, Julie and Stacey, suspended by their pierced wrists on
the other side of the chamber grow more and more agitated. The third girl, Amy, is
now, literally, just dead weight. The blades rise slightly.
	"But there is only one just solution to this dilemma," Stryker finishes.
	He turns to his men.
	"Free her," he commands.
	Following his signals they begin to release Sherry from the shaft, prying the
nails that hold her feet to its base and un-clipping the cuffs that hold her to her
mother.
	"No!" she screams. "No! No! No!"
	The hooded men stand Sherry up against the wall and release her ankles from
the spreader bar. She starts to slide down to her knees.
	Stryker's hand at her chest, just below her neck keeps her up.
	"Don't fall, bitch," he snarls meanly.
	The men now have three foot long, heavy wooden clubs in their hands.
	Stryker too has a club.
	"Don't fall.."
	Off-balanced by the removal of Sherry, Diane can only lean back against the
shaft, held immobile by her nailed feet and watch with helpless horror as her
daughter is surrounded by the four club-wielding men.
	"Only her belly..." Stryker shouts above the shrill cries of the desperate
teenagers. He is already raising his club.
	"Only her belly..."
	THUDD! WACKK! SMACKK! WHUMMPP!
	The hard clubs rise and fall. Savagely the men beat the belly of the pregnant
blonde.
	She cries and screams for help, for mercy. Her mother screams at the
attackers to stop, sobbing, pleading.
	The teenage girls lunge and the blade moves up into Diane's womb, slicing
through skin.
	"Don't FALL!" Stryker shouts at Sherry who leans weakly back against the
wall under the onslaught of the clubs suddenly seized by the deep aching
contractions of child-birth. 
	"If you fall you DIE, PIG!"
	"Ahhgghh! Uhgg! N-nahhhggh!" Sherry grunts, her arms reaching out in a
crucified position, hands searching for a grip on the bare masonry wall as the clubs
smack brutally into her abdomen. Her knees sag but somehow she manages to
stand on her nail-pierced bloody feet, her legs spreading apart as more gut-
wrenching contractions squeeze her insides. There is a burst of fluid from her cunt
suddenly as her cervix begins to dilate. Shit and piss burst out of her.
	"AA-AhhhGGHHHH!" she screams, her eyes wild as she fixes a sightless
stare on the distant ceiling, head slammed back against the wall.
	The clubs fall harder, faster.
	The men beat her upper thighs and once or twice her wasted boobs but they
focus on the target Stryker has chosen, her soft round seven month pregnant cow-
belly.
	"UUUuuuuuu-Uwwwhhhhh!" Sherry scream-grunts. More fluid splashes out
of her. A sudden dark burst of blood. Her hands are fisted, the muscles on her neck
stand out sharply. "Uuhhhmmmrrrhhggghhh!" she grunts, sweating under the meat-
thumping swats of the clubs.
	Stryker clubs her upper belly and the side of her belly.
	The others slam the center and lower portions of the swollen womanmeat.
	The shouts punctuate the killing blows.
	"Bitch!'
	"Whore!'
	"Pigface!"
	"Cunt!"
	Stryker now slams the lower sides of his suffering cow-whore's womb.
	A bursting agony consumes Sherry, blinding and suffocating her. Her lungs
fill with air that is like burning fire, unbreathable, ejecting from her in loud gasping
shrieks and gurgling grunts. Her cervix is opening wider and wider and her thighs
ache as the muscles spasm and clench all the way down her legs, all the way up her
buttocks. She begins to convulse, almost falling forward but Stryker pushes her
back against the wall. 
	"DON'T FALL PIG!"
	THUDD! THUDD! SMMACCKK! WHHAPPFF!
	"UhhGGHH! NNUGGHH- Uh - Uh - Uh -UUHRRGHH!"
	The clubs rupture her organs, a gulp of dark blood erupts from her choking
lips, her cervix now completely split and the infant's head pushing through as the
beating-induced labor begins. The infant all bloody. Blood streaming out of her. Hot
brown gunk and shit.
	The chamber is filled with the screams of tortured female.
	The teenagers tear their wrists on the meathooks.
	The terrible blade cuts upward into Diane who staggers back against the
metal shaft, tries to go up on her toes unable to because of the nails through her
pretty feet. She too begins to feel the horrible contractions of induced labor, spasms
that rock her and make her shriek at the top of her lungs as the blade cuts through
the outer skin of her gutsac and the barbs pierce deep gouging widening cervix and
lower colon. 
	Now Sherry is half-way through giving birth and Stryker reaches out to grab
the head of the baby as his men continue to pound the living shit out of the
pregnant bitch-cow. He begins to pull on the tiny body yanking it out of its mother.
	"EEEahhhhh!" Sherry screams wildly. "EEEIIIIHHHH - N -NAHHHH!"
	To Sherry it seems her whole life is being yanked down out of her by her
cunt, that she is being completely gutted and mauled. Each rasping scream weakens
her as she struggles vainly for breath almost fainting but somehow staying up on
her bleeding feet knowing certain death will come if she falls.
	She sees her mother on the shaft being sliced in half now. Erratically she sees
her husband, Tom, in her mind and her father. Its a family picnic months before in
the back yard. Then the reality of the moment drowns her.
	"M-m-mmuhh-mm-ma..." she grunts. "N-nhaaaghhhh! Muuhmmma!"
	And then Stryker is pulling the infant out of her holding it up by its feet in
front of her. The men stop the clubbing.
	"Its a GIRL!" he shouts crazily. The tiny baby gives out a single wailing cry
then with all his strength the crazed sadist swings its tiny body against the wall three
times by one little leg splattering it to death and tossing it across the room as the
hooded men shout triumphantly.
	Stryker leans close to Sherry and whispers in the dazed, mind-blown young
woman's ear.
	"You can fall now..."
	With a bewildered sigh she slides down to her knees with a thump to look up
at the men who circle around her.
	"Let's piss on 'er," one of them suggests.
	"Yeahh," Stryker agrees. "Good idea."
	Four semi-tumescent pricks hiss. Hot stinking yellow urine spatters her lovely
wasted face, her wasted tits and bruised broken belly and thighs, drips down her and
forms a wide puddle on the floor around her knees.
	"Open your mouth," a dark voice above her snarls.
	She does as she is told.
	Piss fills her lips, slides down her throat, chokes her.
	She's already passing out.
	A hand grips her by her hair until the pissing is finished.
	Her eyes roll back in her head as she faints and slides back against the wall
with a thump to lie sprawled, legs wide, covered with piss, blood and bruises on the
floor of the chamber, the afterbirth squeezing out of her cunt in one squishy gulp. 


	Diane's body is at war with the invading blade...and losing.
	She has witnessed the slaughter of her daughter's baby and the humiliating
image of lovely wasted Sherry on her knees, her tormentors laughing and pissing on
her as she passes out.
	Her own body, much less further along in pregnancy than Sherry's,
nevertheless begins its final attempt to deliver the seed in her distended womb as the
blade slices her open. Her water breaks and the cervix begins to split apart. But the
steel barbs pressing upward into her do not allow nature to run its course.
	She wails pitifully as her belly bulges horribly, sliced neatly in half from
underneath. 
	Pieces of her small intestines squeeze past the wound and blood spurts out of
her with the rythmic pounding of her heart.
	"Uuhhwwwhhhh!- Uhhhwww!" she grunts.
	Stryker and his men watch her long slow death their cocks now fully
engorged once again in their stroking grips.
	The blade continues, unstoppably to rise.
	Part of the placental sac and some more amniotic fluid spill from the slice-
wound in Diane's abdomen.
	She coughs up blood and then vomits.
	Her hands, left wrist-chained to the shaft by the men when they freed Sherry
clutch at the air hopelessly now. She shudders spastically and looks back at the men
giving them her suffering, her pain, her dying anguish. They see the surrender in her
eyes, the knowledge that they are killing her and watching her die, and their
pleasure is fed.
	"Beautiful..." Stryker whispers softly.
	There is a rending ripping sound inside Diane and her head tilts back, blood
bubbling up out of her mouth. More blood streaming from the mortal blade. A dark
mass spills from the hole in the front of her womb now. Its a small mass of flesh
with tiny doll-like arms...the upper half of her baby...which falls with a thump to the
floor between her nailed feet.
	Her legs give out and she slumps, sitting on the rising blade, defeated.
	Stryker now steps up to her, the long hunting knife in his hand.
	"This cunt won't be running up anymore credit cards..."
	The men chuckle as he takes her head by her soft blonde hair and puts the tip
of the knife to the base of her throat.
	He pushes just the tip of the knife into the 'V' in her distended neck.
	"You see what you brought about by insulting me, fuckface...Huh?"
	She whimpers, looking up at him, lost, a small drop of blood spilling down
her chest.
	"That's right...this was all your fault. You caused it. If you'd kept your mouth
shut we would have had a little fun with all of you and let you go."
	"But you had to go and piss me off..."
	Then he begins to saw the sharp blade into her gradually watching her
eyebrows furrow and her lips open and gasp.
	"I've taken everything from you," he tells her smiling and rubbing his huge
prick on her lips and cheeks. "Everything you care about...Your daughter's baby,
your baby..." Then he leans down on her, one hand on he shoulder, to press her
into the rising blade with all his weight while he pushes the knife into her voice-box
with a pop. "Now I'm gonna take your life...all because you insulted me..." It gives
him deep sadistic pleasure knowing she will die believing her outburst set him off
even though he planned all this destruction right from the beginning. "Should have
kept your mout shut, pig..."
	Her eyes look up at him, wide and puzzled. They ask the eternal question of
the victim.
	Why?Why?Why?
	His smile is replaced now by the mean scowl of the Killer.
	Because you're here, his eyes tell her.
	Because you're nothing but meat for me...nothing but lovely,tasty,
womanmeat.
	And then the scowl hardens and his expression says only: Die, bitch.

	Die.

	And he rams the knife hard, all the way through her throat while he pushes
the dying pregnant whorecow's body down into the blade.
	"A-Ahh-uuhwwhhh!" she groan-grunts as blood pumps out of her mouth, out
of her throat wound, out of her belly-wound.

	Die.

	The blade rising, reaches her diaphragm and slices through it. Guts spill out of
Diane and slither down to the floor. As the blade nicks her heart, two ribs cracking,
her body jerking backward against the cold metal shaft, eyes glassy, mouth wide
open, her hot blood jets out on Stryker's belly and cock, on the wall, as he laughs
and steps back.

	The hooded men go to the hanging screaming teenage girls and pull down on
their dangling, kicking legs.
	This forces the blade up into Diane's chest cavity as she clings weakly to life.
	Stryker steps to the video screen and he touches the hydraulic release button.
	The full weight of the teenage girls and the men pulling and half-hanging on
their legs now swiftly raises the scmitar-shaped blade right through Diane's slumping
body coming up against her neck, slicing her in half then prying her head off her as
she gasp-grunts dying, her knifed throat ripping, her head falling forward off the
torso as the blade rises cutting the once-gorgeous pregnant blonde in half and
finishing her once and for all. Her blonde head, still able to see and understand rolls
across the chamber floor to stare up at Stryker's sneering steel-toothed face. 
	He reaches down and draws the decapitated, blue-eyed, womanhead to his
mouth for one last bloody kiss before tossing it aside and moving toward the
remaining victims. 


	Passionately aroused and blood-thirsty Stryker and his hooded men release
the two teenage girls from the meathooks.
	With the blowtorch they again cauterize the grossly punctured wrists of the
girls to keep them from bleeding to death. From the wounds on her legs and feet
Julie has already lost a lot of blood so they begin with her knowing that Stacey, who
has only been whipped and meathooked, will last longer.
	Julie's broken body is viciously raped and sodomized again and again, this
time with steel-barbed dildoes the men strap on around their waists.
	She is made to suck cock and drink sperm.
	She is beaten with the wooden clubs.
	This time the beating is not, as it was with Sherry, limited to one part of the
body.
	This time they are out to completely shatter the little slut.
	And to beat her they hang her by the neck and tie her hands behind her.
	Four men surround the choking child lifted up on her bitten-off toes and
broken legs by the strangling cord.
	The clubs crash down on the defenseless victim mercilessly.
	The men break her ribs, club her big sliced-up boobs, rupture her kidneys and
spleen, make her vomit blood and choke. They club her pretty little slut-face
breaking her nose and cheek-bones. They club her swollen pussy-mound. They
break her knees and thigh-bones. 
	Stryker clubs her back, her asscheeks, her shoulderblades finally cracking her
spine, making her gurgle and gasp and finally give out as the rope pulls her by the
neck, her head tipping sideways as her neck snap-cracks like a dead branch.
	Leaving her to die they move in on Stacey, the pretty little high-school
tramp-slut, who cringes on the floor against the wall.
	She's pulled out to the center of the chamber by her feet, face dragging on
the bloody concrete floor.
	They rape her with even more violence, gashing out her pussy and asshole
with their steel-barbed cocks then fucking her bleeding insides with their manflesh to
cum inside her and fill the worthless little bitch, to make her scream and grunt and
beg. They bend her down and fuck her from behind, she on her knees. They lay her
flat and pull her legs back to slamfuck her. They put her in every conceivable
position and fuck the goddamned shit out of her, cumming in her cunt and in her
face and mouth again and again.
	They drag her over to a wooden table, force her down on her knees in front
of it so that her big luscious boobs rest on the table surface, her hands wire-bound
behind her. Then they pierce fishing hooks through the babbling shrieking teenage
girl's nipples and pull the breasts out on the table, the hooks knotted to lines that are
pulled to the opposite side of the table and knotted to the table-legs.
	Stryker gets the axe.
	Julie still hangs gasping for air by her broken neck, poor broken bitch now
near death.
	Stryker swings the axe across the hanging teenage girl's torso.
	A smashing crunch of ribs is followed by a mewling wail.
	He rips the axe out of the little bitch and half her still-pumping heart along
with it.
	He swings the axe across her slender belly opening her and disemboweling
her as he pulls it out finishing her.
	He stands over Stacey.
	She pleads and pleads.
	He just snarls and brings the axe down slicing one tit off and then the other.
	The sliced off boobmeat is passed around by the men and devoured.
	Stacey faints falling forward on the bloody table. They revive her with
smelling salts.
	They put the meathook through the unfortunate titless blonde bitch and raise
her up to hang from the ceiling.
	They all take knives.
	Its delicious girl-slaughter as they spin her around and knife her, knifing deep
and hard into her young shapely body. They knife into her strong legs and thighs,
into her belly ripping out intestines and liver and stomach.
	They knife into her titless chest, into her shoulders, into her pretty face.
	She spins, cunt-hung like a doll on a string, arms draped backward, legs
dangling off the floor. They knife her feet, cut open her calves. And finally they rip
her off the meathook and gash her apart, gut her, to eat her alive while the last
shivers of life spend themselves on her broken limbs. 




	When Sherry awakens she's bound to a tree on her knees, her arms behind
her, wrists roped together.
	It is morning, they are outside and there are forest sounds all around, rustling
leaves, birds.
	Stryker stands in front of her naked, a vial of smelling salts in his hand.
	"I'm going to let you live, cunt."
	He's no longer wearing the steel-toothed device in his mouth.
	Her body is feverish, numb, sore and there is a dark vacant pain in her
womb.
	"You do not know where you've been or where you are now so you will be
able to tell the police nothing."
	He steps up to her, his huge tattooed prick in her face. He smells of blood and
girl-guts.
	"You'll tell the police that some masked men kidnapped you and your mother
and some others and that you were allowed to live..."
	"If you do decide to tell the police about me..." 
	He tilts her face back with one hand at the top of her head, clutching her
pretty blonde mane.
	"Then know that I will finish you and everyone you know or care about. The
same way I did your mother and your baby."
	"Why am I doing this?" he asks responding to her questioning eyes.
	"Take my cock in your mouth," he growls suddenly. "Take it...now..."
	She obeys without hesitation, opening her soft pink lips to admit his
monstrous prick.
	He begins to piston slowly and then more urgently down her throat, choking
her while he holds her head in both his hands looking down at her.
	"Mmm...yeahh...This is why, pig...I'm gonna let you live because you're
worthless as a woman now. Yeah. That's right. Completely worthless. Your tits are
burned to a crisp and they will have to be amputated."
	Stryker watches the terror and horror grow like mushrooming darkness in
her lovely blue eyes. Such pretty blue...like her mom's...like the beheaded face of her
mom in the dungeon, knowing and surrendering...
	"Your cunt has been shredded and you will need to have a total
hysterectomy...mmmhhh.."
	He pushes himself down her throat now, driving her mouth wide apart, her
jaw aching as she gasps for air.
	"Yeahh, bitch. You're a worthless, titless, cuntless piece of shit now...uuhhh!
And you'll have to live with that your whole life - mmmhh - yeahh...you're whole
fucking life..."
	He thrusts into her face hard gripping her cruelly and she looks up to see the
pleasure invade him.
	"Uuhhhhhh! God-DAMN!" he shouts, lifting his eyes to the sky.
	"FUCKING BITCH! I'VE DESTROYED YOUUUU!!"
	She chokes suddenly as hot jets of sperm flood the back of her throat and fill
her mouth and spill from her lips.
	"You goddamn piece of shit CUNT! ...This is all you're good for now...
THIS!"
	He takes his cock out of her mouth and shoots off hot wads of spunk on her
sobbing face.
	"You're nothing but a SCUMBAG now...a worthless, goddamn
SCUMBAG!"
	The fire subsides in his horrible hawk-eyes. Those eyes she will never forget.
	"For the rest of your life, pig....you'll...be...MINE...I may come back and take
you at any moment. When you least expect it. When you think you're safe...I will be
there...all over you...all around you..."
	He steps back and begins moving away from her.
	At the beginning of the path that disappears into the forest he turns.
	"I will always be there...always..." 
	And then he was gone.


	After a few minutes she slipped into unconsciousness.
	She would wake in the hospital hours later.
	Apparently the Monster had told them where to find her.
	Her husband was there and her father and later the police but she could not
speak...she had lost her voice.
	She could not speak for months.
	She had only his taste in her throat.
	Nothing else.
	It barely allowed her to breathe.
	They never found any trace of the others and they never would.
	A year later, she draped the rope over the ceiling beam in the bedroom of the
rented cabin, stood naked on the chair, naked on her tip-toes, the firm knotted
noose around her neck. By then several operation had left her once lovely body
permanently mutilated. The doctors had told her there was plastic surgery. But there
was no plastic surgery for the dark mutilation inside, for the darkness He had put
there and the taste He'd left in her throat.
	She kicked the chair away and felt the powerful embrace of the rope around
her neck.
	Then the loud snap and the warm pleasure of release in her wasted womb.
	At last she was His...utterly His.
	Just before she sank into darkness she heard his horrible laugh.
	And again, one last time, she tasted his hot salty spunk. 

WOODBURN


