THE DEATH FACTORY
Chapter 1. The Factory.
Bob smiled, stretched out his long sinewy arms, and yawned. He gave his wife Emma, a coy look across the breakfast table. "I thought we might spend some time in the factory today."
Emma's twenty-eight year old green eyes widened. "Working or playing?"
"A new catch? Anyone we know?" she quipped playfully.
"Haha, no. Dave brought a fresh delivery last night after you were in bed. Didn't need to wake you."
"Ah! I did wonder if I heard a van." Emma shifted in her chair, and studied Bob's rugged face. He was thirty-seven years old and his dark beard was just starting to be flecked with grey. She loved the way he was maturing, a strong silent type, six foot three, with a characterful face. Emma always thought he could play the bad guy in some old spaghetti western. Not quite pretty enough to be the hero.
Bob could tell she was restless and eager to find out more. He cleared his throat, knowing that his next statement would raise the excitement level in the room three or four notches. "There's three of them."
Emma gave sharp intake of breath and dropped her toast with a flustered look of wonderment. "Three!" she cried as she retrieved her toast from her milky coffee. "Three?" she exclaimed again. Her incredulity was palpable.
Bob didn't answer right away, just nodded with a knowing smile, allowing a pregnant silence to settle across the table before resolving the questioning turmoil in Emma's mind. "Dave hit the jackpot this time. It's a mum and two daughters."
Dave was the delivery guy who they had an arrangement with. Cash changed hands and no questions were asked. This was only the second delivery, the first had been a fake-fur clad, smack-addled street whore whom he had no doubt picked up from some distant city. That girl, Tara, had provided the couple with a lascivious day of debauched entertainment that would stay with them forever.
Emma had shared her husbands unspoken proclivity since they were brought together ten years ago. A chance encounter and a unguarded conversation fueled by a little too much alcohol had made them partners in crime, eternally bound by a dark pact of sexual depravity.
It had been nearly a year since Tara's demise. Dave couldn't risk being caught, so well-timed opportunism meant an erratic supply of victims. In the meantime Bob had continued working on the factory, confident that sooner or later Dave would come good on his promises. Still, they had video footage of Tara's ruination, and often availed themselves of it during long evenings of passion. Emma found the sight and sounds of her husband beating that skinny bitch half to death with a spiked club highly arousing.
Now fired with excitement and adrenaline, Emma leapt from her seat and started pacing the stone flags of their typically beautiful Welsh farmhouse kitchen. Bob appreciatively watched her long legs and cute butt clad in white yoga pants do their thing as she strode away past the Aga. He always thought Emma carried the perfect amount of body fat, and it was a feast for the eyes to see it jiggling nicely as it was propelled by musculature borne of much horse riding and the occasional toting of hay bales.
If anything, Bob thought that Emma was even more into their devilish kink than he was, even though he had been the first to broach his sick confession all those years ago. In any case, he was clearly pretty cool about the whole thing, his level-headedness perhaps a necessary counterpoint to her fiery enthusiasm.
"She's in her early thirties, I would say," Bob explained. "According to Dave the kids are ten and fifteen."
Emma, having reached the food store at the far end of the kitchen, suddenly wheeled around, presenting her pretty round face and full, D cup figure. Braless, her breasts were roaming freely under her matching white tank top.
She was quite the farmers daughter, quality breeding stock with strong arms, child bearing hips and just the hint of belly, which Bob thought was her best attribute, as it softened the athleticism of her narrow waist just enough to feminise her abs.
Emma drew herself up to her full five foot eleven and declared, "I'm done with breakfast." She returned to the table as if stepping down a catwalk and swigged down the last of her coffee, "Let's go see them."
Bob wasn't surprised by her impatience, and who could blame her eagerness? She left him with a big hug and a little kiss and with that, she fled barefoot from the kitchen, and Bob heard her sprinting up the old farmhouse stairs.
Bob finished his bacon and eggs, and a few minutes later Emma had returned, wearing a pair of grubby white trainers, an old pair of jeans, slightly ripped and very faded, and a red checkered shirt, knotted about her waist to show off her pale midriff.
Bed hair now dispensed with, she topped her outfit off with a red baseball cap, and had pulled a blonde pony tail through the hole at the back where the strap goes. Despite having just thrown a few things on for practicality rather than glamour, she still looked absolutely stunning. The look was completed by a large, bulging sports bag slung over one shoulder.
Bob stomped over to the door, grabbed a frayed old Caterpillar cap from the peg, and pulled a well worn pair of hiking boots onto his size twelves. The atypical clemency of the April weather meant an old Nirvana t-shirt would do, and he too wore jeans, dark with darker patches where engine oil and other stains had defeated the washing cycle.
Bob straightened his cap. "Lets go."
It wasn't really a factory of course, that's just what they called it. Originally 'The Death Factory', it was a subterranean complex partly dug into the remote Welsh hillside, and partly under the new barn where much of the agricultural plant and equipment was kept.
There, secreted deep under the earth was a amusement park of diabolical machinery. Assorted mechanisms for the singular function of destroying beautiful lives in the most tortuous and messy ways possible. Apart from the factory floor proper, were additional facilities; several cells for holding guests, toilets and showers, a laundry room, a small workshop, and a comfortable viewing lounge with a bed, entertainment system and a galley kitchen. Thus it was possible to spend a fair amount of time in this subterranean paradise without needing to come up for air.
Beyond the machine area, was a disposal pit, a deep shaft, topped with a heavy steel cover, and leading down to a holding tank. This is were remains were to be dumped, and quicklime shovelled in after to break down and neutralize any kind of organic matter. After all, having your dungeon stink of rotting flesh is so passé.
Bob had built the whole place himself, being something of a workaholic, and being always busy it had only taken 2 years. It was done under the guise of building a nuclear bunker, but no-one had asked questions about it anyway.
Bob had also built all the devices himself, with some help from his wife, cobbling together various parts of industrial plant, or using his considerable mechanical skills to weld and fabricate items where a more exotic product was needed. This was an ongoing process, and from time to time a new contraption was lowered into the factory's depths.
As he trudged up the stony lane he pondered which of these machines might be used today. There were already gadgets for sawing, slicing, chopping, mangling, crushing and generally splattering unlucky visitors, and most had never been used. Thinking up and building such appliances was something of a hobby for Bob, and he took great pride in his work.
Emma, on the other hand was racing ahead towards the barn, keen to meet their new guests. Less interested in the hardware she was a typical 'people person' Bob thought wryly.
Running alongside the front side of the barn was a low windowless cinder block annex, the tool store. This is where the smaller and more valuable farm tools were kept, such as generators and power tools. When Bob arrived, Emma had fished the keys from her pocket as was already unlocking the steel side door. As they entered, Bob flicked the switch and harsh flourescent lights blinked into life, revealing a kind of Aladdin's man-cave. There were ploughs and other tractor accessories, and shelves of power tools and farming implements. An old engine on a pallet here, a roll of fencing wire there. The concrete floor ensured everything inside was coated with a layer of dust, and the rich scent of motor oil hung in the air.
Neither of them spoke much, as they had the routine down pat, and each knew exactly what to do. Although the aim was despicable fun, it was important to take proper steps to ensure they were never discovered. Any complacency would be their downfall. This was one racket that they definitely didn't want to be rumbled.
As Emma locked the door behind them. Bob walked to the corner of the room, hefted a portable water pump out of the way. and climbed onto a ride on mower. After a few tries the engine caught and he rode it away from it's resting place into the centre of the shed.
Emma tossed him the bunch of keys, which contained a fob, of the sort you might use to remotely open a garage door. Bob pressed the button, and with a slight scrape, a whirr and hiss of hydraulics, a section of the concrete floor slowly gaped open, revealing a narrow wooden stairway leading downwards. This was one of three entrances to the factory, another was under the barn itself, for delivery of machinery and other large items, and finally a long underground tunnel led to the farmhouse basement, intended only for emergencies.
Emma skipped excitedly down the stairway, and Bob followed.
Chapter 2. The Delivery is Inspected.
The three captives were together in a steel lined, soundproof cell. The soundproofing wasn't so much to prevent busybodies from hearing their cries, but to eliminate the annoyance factor and to allow some peace and quiet.
There were actually four cells in total, but Bob had deemed it easier and sufficiently risk-free to keep these girls together.
The cell had just the basics to keep their occupants in good enough health until they were required, a bunk bed replete with thin blue plastic mattresses, and duvets, and a sink with a cold tap, drinking beakers, and a toilet cubical.
Each cell also had CCTV, so could be monitored remotely. In fact the whole farm was covered with cameras, partly for security, but mostly to eliminate any unexpected or unwelcome surprises.
Once the couple had reached the basement level, Bob grabbed his trusty Mossberg pump action 12-gauge from the workshop. Today it was loaded with solid rounds that would 'blow a hole in a cow big enough to throw a dog through' as the saying goes. Both he and Emma also strapped on hunting knives, and pocketed pepper spray. The plan wasn't to use any of these weapons, but it pays to be prepared for all eventualities, and disagreeable guests were certainly a hazard.
Emma pushed the door open while Bob held the 'Shotgun of Compliance' as it was affectionately known. Apart from it's dog-hole making capability, it's visual presence carried considerable psychological force.
Straight away the mother started running her mouth. "What the hell you think you're doing!?" she yelled. She had some kind of East European accent that Bob had trouble placing.
"I'd give that attitude a rest darling, if I were you!" warned Emma. Bob had noticed that she enjoyed getting fired up with captives, it really seemed to get her in the mood.
"Someone will hear us and then you'll be in real trouble. Let us go now!"
"Sorry sweetheart, no-one will hear you scream down here. And you should save your scream 'til later, when you'll need it."
"Fuck you!" This bitch certainly had attitude, but she was no match for Emma's nasty streak.
Emma pulled her right hand from her pocket, revealing a knuckle duster. A quick snap of her arm and it connected with the woman's temple.
"Ahh! fuck you," the bitch cried again.
"You gonna be quiet now?" Emma asked, although by the way she said it, it was more a statement of fact.
The woman's head dropped and she nodded resignedly. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek.
The youngest was crying, a grizzled high pitched squeal, and the fifteen year old was sitting sullenly, tears streaming down her face from imploring eyes.
Emma trotted out the well worn cliché, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."
And with that the captives at last seemed to accept their situation. Although terrified by the sudden change in their life's trajectory, a realisation had finally descended that they were at the mercy of their captors, and resisting probably wasn't a good idea.
Emma's demeanour suddenly changed, and she flashed a warm smile, "Anyway, we've brought you breakfast," she chirped brightly. Bob had always been impressed by her Jekyll-and-Hide ability to manipulate victims in the service of ensuring cooperation. Emma dug into the bag and produced a Tupperware box of sandwiches and other goodies that Bob had prepared earlier.
"Ok guys," Bob informed the girls, "That's all for now, eat your breakfast and we'll be back later."
The couple needed to attend to a few necessities while the girls breakfasted. Bob checked on the cameras, and made sure everything was set up to record.
Then Bob and Emma made their way up to the viewing lounge. It was a purpose built area for hanging out during and between their wicked doings. In one corner was a desk with a computer system and an array of flat panel monitors, where they could keep an eye on the whole farm, and on the back wall, facing the bed was a giant 60 inch TV screen, for watching videos that had been previously recorded, and an equally impressive surround sound system.
On the long front wall was a panoramic plate glass window which overlooked the factory proper. The lounge was on a kind of mezzanine level, so that one could look survey all the goings on in the factory, much like your boss does at work.
Emma put the kettle on while Bob rolled a spliff. He found weed to be the perfect aphrodisiac, and Dave had supplied him with a lovely Sativa hybrid that sparked his mind to a new level, without monging him out. It was time to plan their next move.
Bob and Emma sat together on the couch, supping their tea.
"So what do you think?" Emma asked, dunking a biscuit.
Bob inhaled and passed her the J. "Well all the machines are in good order. We're spoiled for choice. I think we'll just use one machine though, otherwise we'll be here all week doing cleanup."
"Sounds like a plan," Emma agreed. "Also it'll make logistics a bit easier. Not so much moving about."
Bob nodded. "But which one? It's your turn to decide."
Since Tara the Tart's gruesome, toe-first slaughter by means of an industrial shredder, the couple had bickered over favoured methods of disposal. Taking turns seemed the only solution to maintain marital harmony.
Bob and Emma often relived the Tara episode through the big screen while fucking. Bob loved watching the destruction in slow-mo, and Emma got off on the screams. The other machines were all as yet unchristened, and they were both keen to test them out.
"We should get dressed, too," Bob said. Street clothes, while adequate, weren't really optimal for the rampant orgy of violent sexual destruction that was to be undertaken.
So they did, each donning soft black cotton onesies, modified with Velcro for easy crotch access, high boots, and a belt to hold weapons and tools. The overall effect was ninja-esque, and once the fun was over, the outfits could be destroyed without compunction if they were too messed up to wear again.
The captives were to wear white pyjamas. Emma had insisted on this colour for the simple reason that it showed up the blood better.
"Let's get them processed, I'll grab my notebook," Bob said.
Emma rolled her eyes and laughed. Bob was such a stickler for protocol she thought. Such a square, recording everything for posterity. Still, it was one of those loveable traits that added to his character.
Soon, the three females were led into the processing room next to the cell block.
"Sit there." Bob motioned with the shotgun to a wooden bench. The three sat nervously in silence, wondering what this was leading to.
He pointed the shotgun at the mother. "Stand up."
This time she did as she was told. Bob suspected that her earlier outburst was more an immature attempt to save face than a serious challenge to his and Emma's authority.
"What's your name sweetheart?" he asked sternly.
The woman looked down at her feet in silence.
Emma stepped towards her. "Name!" she demanded. She was really revelling in the Gestapo guard act, thought Bob.
After another hesitation, she replied, "Magda."
This piqued Emma's interest. "That's a Russian name isn't it?"
"Polish," Magda replied.
"Well I guess that explains the attitude. And what are you? thirty five, thirty eight years old?" This was a deliberate ploy by Emma to get information. Overstating her age to force a correction. Emma had always been good at the old psychology.
"Fuck off! I'm thirty two!" Magda spat, offended.
Bob recorded these facts in his little leather-bound, blue notebook.
"Go and stand against that wall, we need to take your picture." Magda moved over to the wall, which had height markers, just like you see in criminal's mugshots.
Bob took a few moments to take photos of her face, then front, side and rear shots.
"Take off your clothes," Bob said quietly.
"What, now?" Magda asked, disbelievingly.
"Yes, of course."
Magda stripped reluctantly, removing a short leather jacket, and green tanktop revealing a luscious pair of G cup titties barely contained in a bulging bra. Magda started to fumble with the catch behind her.
Bob didn't want to wait, and pulled out his Bowie knife. As Magda let forth a little shriek, he deftly sliced through the front band. Emma forcefully ripped the bra away from her and threw it onto the bench. The ample mammaries, freed of their prison, found themselves at the mercy of Master Gravity, and bobbed downwards to find a new equilibrium.
Bob appraised them with a critical eye. They were full, round, and very milfy, and just a little saggy. He couldn't resist grabbing one with a large paw and his touch caused Magda to gasp. Overflowing the reach of his fingers, the breast was exquisitely soft and pliant. Then he squeezed hard. Magda yelped in pain, and Bob felt a semi growing in his pants. He released his grip, leaving red finger marks on her tender flesh. He gave Magda a nod and a smile. "Ok, get the rest off."
Magda bent over to remove her white trainers. It was a nice pose, Bob thought. Watching her remove her jeans and knickers was quite a show too, her smooth limbs dancing and hopping as she struggled with the garments.
At last she was completely naked. Bob looked her up and down, evaluating his quarry.
Tousled mousey hair topped a fearful, bloody and dirt smudged face, but still quite pretty, with high cheekbones and a proud but well formed nose. She had narrow, girly shoulders, which only served to further emphasize her enormous tits. Bob salivated and a random thought popped into his head about how he might destroy them later.
Her torso was distinctly pear shaped, had a narrow waist, soft feminine tummy, and a pronounced and extremely erotic venus mons. Her hips were fabulously wide, and well padded, but without unsightly rolls of fat or flab, giving her untrimmed cunt the perfect setting. A lush island in an expansive sea of flesh. The whole effect was of a juicy treat, and Bob wanted to dive right in.
"Turn around," he told her, and as she complied her fat bottom jiggled enticingly. Her ass was what Bob thought of as kinda chewy. Soft, plump, and just a little bit saggy. A ride built for comfort.
Her legs balanced her torso nicely, her thick meaty thighs were big enough not to leave a gap, leading to shapely calves, ending with the standard number of feet. Bob noticed that she had painted her toenails green spangles. It seemed like a wasted effort in view of what was to become of them.
The whole effect of Magda's body was to exude not beauty in it's generally accepted sense, but voluptuous sensuality. Bob thought it perfect for the forthcoming trials it would be subjected to.
Next, Magda was instructed to step onto some bathroom scales, and then stood against the measuring wall. Emma produced a tape measure and Bob diligently recorded the vital statistics in his little book:
Magda (32) 32G-26-40 1.75m 71kg
He had been compelled to record the height and weight in metric, as if this was a nerdy excercise in engineering. In some sense, it probably was.
Finally, the processing was completed with another round of photos, this time naked, creating the kind of 'before and after' sets you might find on 4chan/s.
Bob was still admiring her form when his reverie was interrupted by Emma handing her the pyjamas.
While Magda was dressing, Bob turned next to the older daughter. "Your turn now my dear," he said firmly.
The girl's head suddenly shot up. "What?" she said in surprise.
"Stand." Bob said in his usual laconic style.
"Nooooo," wailed the girl, and started rocking on the edge of the bench.
This time Magda stepped in "Just do as they say, Kasia," she coaxed.
"But but but…" stammered Kasia, still rocking and crying.
Emma, having had enough of this insubordiation, stepped forward. She grabbed Kasia by the ponytail, lifting her bodily from the bench. Kasia screamed a little scream and struggled, kicking out with her legs. This caused a natural reaction from her mother.
"Hey!" she yelled, before a sharp look from Emma and the barrels of the gun waved towards her made her remember herself. "Just do as they say," she added quietly.
Kasia relented and stood quietly, sulkily avoiding eye contact. Then the humiliating process that her mother had endured was repeated.
"You're a pretty one. Now strip" Emma demanded.
Slowly Kasia took off a pink fleece, a snug fitting white polo shirt, sports bra, leggings and finally knickers, and added them to her mother's on the bench.
Bob could feel both her teenage embarrassment, as her young cheeks flushed at this impromptu strip-tease, and the still growing bulge in his pants.
Again he looked her up and down. His eyes were drawn to her feet first, which were self consciously turned in towards each other. Bob thought this was rather sexy and girly. He raised his eyes to take in the rest of her teenage form. Her legs were really nicely muscled, slim of course, but lithe and toned too. "Do you do sports?"
"She's in the school gymnastics team," Magda chipped in.
Bob grunted approvingly. Fit girls were always the most fun. Strength and stamina were desirable qualities in this game. He thought maybe she would be saved until last.
Kasia had a perfect little pussy too, very tight, smooth and tidy looking.
Above that, a flat tummy with noticeable abs, no doubt from the gymnastics. Smooth ripples of her ribs were nicely visible too. Bob liked the way her underlying physical structure was visible, and wondered what fate would befall it.
Bob's eyes greedily apprehended her developing breasts. He estimated that they were a C-cup already. Round and perky, each one was a nice little handful. Bob had quite a thing about arms, too, and this girl's were lovely. Kinda spindly as would be expected for her age, but lean with a hint of the underlying muscle, terminated by delicate hands.
Her face was stunningly beautiful. It's tear stained, and terrified aspect making it all the more appealing. Full lips, her mother's broad face and proud cheekbones, and strangely alluring hazel eyes topped off with carefully presented eyebrows gave her a look of grace, intelligence and intensity.
Bob wanted to see a little more before he moved on. "Gymnastics right? Give us a little show then."
Realising she had no choice, but crippled with embarrassment, Kasia turned around to avoid eye contact. This suited Bob just fine of course, giving him a fresh view.
Kasia's back was as nice as the front. Bob watched as subtle musculature and bone slid under perfect taught skin as she moved through a little routine.
First came some warm up stretches. Then, lying face down on the floor, arching her back and bending her knees, she reached back and grabbed her ankles. Bob watched mesmerised, as her powerful ass muscles worked, and pushed her butt proud. It was a great look, and Emma thoughtfully grabbed more photos.
Then, a handstand with splits. The look of shock on Magda's face was priceless, as Kasia's pussy was fully exposed to all. The final act was a graceful forward walkover, showing maximum flexibility, and again not leaving anything to the imagination.
Bob exhaled in appreciation. "Whew. Ok put on your jim jams." Emma threw her jammies to her and Kasia hastily and gratefully put them on, at last free of Bob and Emma's unwelcome and searching study.
Kasia (15) 32C-22-32 1.55m 47kg
Bob turned at last turned to the youngest. "One of these things is not like the others," he proclaimed. For this little flower was black.
"She's adopted," Magda explained, as Emma positioned her for the camera.
"Ok little one, you know the drill," Emma directed.
Bob started thinking about drills, and all the things he could do with them. Then he cleared his throat and his thoughts.
"What's your name, little one?" he enquired, as photos were taken.
Perhaps she didn't fully understand the seriousness of her predicament as her sister had, or perhaps she knew it too well and had found some resolve, as kids often do. In any case the tears had dried up and she answered promptly.
"Maisie" she confided quietly.
"Ok we need you to change into your jammies like your sister did."
"Is it bedtime?" she asked querilously, no doubt having lost track of time. As it turned out, it soon would be, but not in the way Maisie had hoped.
Maisie pulled off her clothes with a little help from her mum and then stood quietly.
Bob appraised her dark form. Unsurprisingly it was a complete contrast to Kasia's.
Her round, brown face was topped with wirey black hair, done in cornrows. She had a cute button nose and full, dimpled cheeks. Bob imagined that it would have been capable of a smile to light up a whole room, then realised that wouldn't be a likely scenario in this timeline.
Below her delicate ten year old neck was a chubby little torso, with just the merest hint of titties starting to bud. Maisie was carrying a fair bit of puppy fat, and some of it was spread around her middle, giving her a cute softness.
Her pussy was as you would expect, nothing more than a slit.
Below that were dumpy little legs, fleshy thighs and calves and impossibly cute little feet.
"Give us a twirl darling," Bob said.
Little Maisie started to turn around but then seemed to get confused as to what was wanted of her, and ended up standing sideways on to Bob.
"That's perfect, sweet cheeks," Bob reassured her.
It was actually the perfect angle to admire her in total. A pronounced feminine curve of her lower back gave way to the most stunningly fuckable ass Bob had ever set eyes on. Petite for sure, but gorgeously round and full, of the sort that only African girls are blessed with. Bob recalled there was even a word for it, steatopygia.
Bob couldn't help but grab a handful of cheek flesh. So soft and delicious, that as Maisie looked up to him with big brown eyes, he nearly came in his pants.
Once she was in pyjamas, she still looked super, the drape of soft fabric showing off her little booty perfectly.
Maisie (10) 1.38m 38kg.
Bob and Emma backed out of the cell and closed the door.
"I'm so fucking horny right now," Emma exclaimed as soon as the door was locked, and grabbed at Bob's bulge through his onesie. "Those girls fucking ace. I can't wait to get started on them!"
Bob scratched his chin. "You know we could spread this out over a few days if you like."
Emma agreed, "Yeah, we could that," then thought for a moment, and countered, "Or we could just go fucking crazy for a day."
Bob laughed at his wife's zeal. "That's always an option too."
I love it so far!
Thanks, I wasn't even sure if anyone was reading it!
Anyway you have good timing because chapter 3 is coming right up. After those slow first 2 chapters, things escalate very quickly!
Re-uploading Chapter 3 for some typos and a bit of new dialogue.
Chapter 3. Magda and Maisie have a Bad Day.
Bob and Emma had retired to the lounge to consider their next move.
"I still can't decide. I'm too horny to think properly," Emma lamented seductively, as she rubbed a hand between Bob's legs. "Maybe we can have a quickie first, and decide later."
Bob didn't need much encouragement, "I nearly came just checking those girls over. The brown one really did it for me."
"Me too," agreed Emma. "Hey, why don't we drag her out here and let her join the fun?"
A few minutes later they had returned with Maisie, she was in tears from being wrenched away from mummy.
Bob threw her onto the bed, and she lay there, still wailing, in a fetal position.
Bob pulled open his onesie, and Emma followed suit. Bob noticed that her knickers were wet with her womanly juices. Clearly she had got as excited about the newcomers as he had.
"I'll use the double ender," said Emma, "So we can share."
So that's how it transpired. Maisie was held between the couple, while Bob raped her juicy ass, and Emma ripped her little pussy with the dildo.
The little girl gasped and wailed in shock as her orifices were brutalized, her body heaving and squirming between Bob and Emma's bucking torsos, as she tried to escape the pain.
Bob and Emma gripped each other in a tight embrace, and Maisie was squeezed between them. Her sobs soon became muffled as her face was buried in Emma's ample bosom.
Still harder they squeezed. Maisie was fighting for air and the panic caused a little poop to squit along Bob's shaft, causing him to roll his eyes in ecstasy, and relief soon came as he squirted his load into that squishy dimpled butt.
Maisie still couldn't breathe, and was struggling and kicking. Soon rising panic caused her to lose control of her bladder, sending a cascade of piss down Emma's dildo. Emma shuddered to a climax as she felt the warm wetness squirt onto her.
"You're a filthy little cow, aren't you?" Emma scolded. Maisie was once again able to breathe, but replied only with gasping sobs.
Bob put on a fake posh English accent, "Simply marvellous darling, we should do that again, if you can find a slot in your schedule." Emma giggled and passed Bob a spliff.
The couple were sated for the moment, and soon returned to the business in hand. They dragged little Maisie back to mum, as she wouldn't walk. A trickle of blood and poo had stained her wet jim-jams. After they had tossed her little body back inside the cell, and slammed the door, it was time for to make another coffee, and a plan.
In the end, and after much deliberation, Emma picked the Masher as the destructor of choice. This was one of Bob's favourites too, and he had taken months carefully constructing it.
In essence, it is a fairly simple machine, although completely diabolical of course, worthy of any volcano-dwelling arch-villian.
A large flywheel, about a yard across and weighing five tons, is powered by a large, speed controllable electric motor.
Attached to this wheel is a heavy connecting rod about six feet long, and that in turn connects to a piston.
Thus this forms an arrangement not unlike that in any automobile engine. As the flywheel turns, the piston is driven back and forth over a distance of about eighteen inches. The piston itself is not round as in a car engine, but rectangular, with a width of two feet, and a height which is adjustable by means of adding or removing metal plates.
The piston operates at the bottom of a box, two feet wide to match the piston. Opposite the piston is a grill, made of heavy steel with a grid of one-inch squares cut into it.
This is where the mashing takes place. Above this is a vertical Plexiglass chute, into which the victim is delivered. Thus a fine view of the victim is obtained from all angles, for enraptured members of the audience, and cameras alike.
As the piston operates, the lower part of the victim is mashed through the grill in steps, and after each stroke of the piston, the victim falls by gravity deeper into this terrible maw, ready to be mashed again at the next stroke.
Spectators can enjoy tactile participation in the fun too, as on the other side of the mashing grill is large metal 'slops tray', approximately six feet on each side, and a few inches deep, where the gore is collected. It also happens to be the perfect, if messy, spot for sexual activities while witnessing the destruction first hand.
Today, Emma had chosen to make the mashing grill eight inches high in the expectation that this would yield the most fun. Bob make the necessary adjustments, and then gave the machine one last test. He revelled in the smooth shick-shick-shick noise as the piston operated back and forth.
Bob checked the numerous cameras and microphones. This was going to be a doozy, and it would be a shame not to capture it all for future viewing pleasure.
It was nearing mid-day, and those spliffs had given Bob and Emma the munchies. Back at the house, Bob whipped up a quick and delicious spaghetti bolognaise, and the two of them excitedly talked about the afternoon's upcoming events.
After lunch, Bob accompanied Emma back to the cell. As soon as the door was openend, Magda started kicking off.
"What did you do to my Maisie?" she screamed. "You fucking animals!"
She was so enraged that not even threats of a coshing from Emma would quieten her this time. Taken aback, they retreated, and shut the door while they decided their next move.
"Well at least they've eaten their damn breakfast," Emma said. "You'd think she might show a little gratitude!"
Bob was heartened by this, as he liked them to keep their strength up. Greater endurance equals more fun!
Emma was happy too, as she supposed more solids inside them would yield a messier, more visceral experience. More splatter equals more fun!
"I think we'll deal with that mouthy bitch first," Emma said, "I'll fucking show her whose boss around here."
In the workshop were several shelves, with all manner of weapons, and gadgets. Emma immediately picked out a baseball bat, and changed into a new pair of boots. These were no ordinary footwear however, for they were adorned with two-inch long spikes on the soles.
Bursting back through the cell door, and before Magda could react, Bob grabbed her by the hair and lifted her from the bed. The kids were screaming.
"Wha…" Magda started to say, but was interrupted by Emma, who delivered a sickening blow to her belly with the bat.
"Urrrgh" Magda groaned, and she folded in two. Bob dragged her out of the cell by her hair.
Emma yanked the door shut, then turned again to face Magda. Another blow slammed into Magda's midriff, and she crumpled to the floor.
Bob and Emma fell upon her like predators. They wrestled Magda's arms behind her back and tied them with rope. Emma then sat on Magda's back while Bob tied her legs together at the ankles.
Then they took an arm each and dragged her into the factory proper. She was stretched out on the floor, face up.
"Huhuhu" Magda cried. Neither Bob nor Emma payed any heed, they were on fire now, working together in a sexual frenzy.
Bob reached down and pulled out the full eight inches of his stiffened member. Emma stood by while he forced his way inside her.
"Yaghhh," she cried. Slowly Bob started raping her, thrusting deeper and deeper with each stroke. Her soft fleshy body was delicious, and he loved the way her mushy loose pussy gradually but involuntarily yielded to his thrusting. Then he knelt over her, still pushing, and nodded to Emma.
Emma stepped over and slammed one spiked boot onto Magda's voluminous left breast. Magda screamed a horrible scream. Emma repeated the action. Blood sprayed up. A couple more stamps and Magda's breast started to turn to mush. Before it was completely destroyed Emma changed her target and casually stepped with all her weight on Magda's soft squidgy belly, twisting her foot from side to side and tearing little gashes in it.
"Guurrgh," Magda blurted, so Emma did it again. By now Bob had stopped thrusting, revelling in the powerful waves eminating from Magda's cunt as her body forced every muscle to resist the pounding it was receiving from Emma's boots.
Suddenly Bob felt the convulsions enveloping his shaft increased to an iron grip, and then Magda puked. The breakfast she had eaten an hour earlier erupted and pooled over her face like
a volcano. With each violent heave, it felt like Bob's cock was being strangled hard, and unable to resist, he came again and again. Then he laid down on top of Magda's puke sodden form in
a tight embrace, and fucked her for a few seconds more. He didn't want it to stop so soon.
All good things must come to an end. Bob climbed off Magda's body, breathing hard and staggering slightly.
He grabbed an arm and flipped her over, he didn't want her to drown in her own vomit just yet.
Bob looked down at her broad pyjama covered ass, dirty with dust and wet with sweat and cum. It still looked delicious though, and he thought he would surely need to avail himself of that delight before it's final destruction.
"Right, let's get her over to the machine," said Bob authoritatively. "I don't wan't the whole fucking place covered in puke."
The factory was equipped with crane that operated on an X-Y axis, that could reach any part of the floor. Bob grabbed a nearby remote, and brought the hoist over to where Magda lay. Then he used it to lift her by the wrists, and deliver it to the masher, as he walked alongside.
Bob lowered Magda into the slops tray, as she cursed and cried in Polish.
Bob and Emma left Magda's half ruined body tied up in the steel tray and went upstairs to the lounge while they got their strength back.
"I got so wet doing that," said Emma, "It's amazing how you can feel her squirming under those boots. But I'm horny as hell now, and you were having most of the fun."
"Don't worry sweetness," Bob assured her, "Plenty to go round."
An hour later they returned to the fray.
"I wanna ass-rape that bitch right now," declared Bob.
"And what about me?" Emma didn't want to miss out.
"I can ass-rape you anytime," Bob joked. They both laughed at the deliberate misunderstanding.
"We could do the same as we did with the little one earlier," Bob suggested.
"Nah, too lame," Emma countered. "I want to really fuck her up."
"It would be nice if she was still alive for the Masher. I don't know how much more she can take."
"Well there's only one way to find out. If she snuffs it, then we'll just have to mash her dead body. It'll still be kinda fun!"
"True enough," conceded Bob.
Emma put on an evil grin, "Anyway I really wanna use that toy you made for me."
Bob thought for a moment about the practicalities. "Tell you what, sugar bum, how about you ass-rape her with that thing, while I make sweet love to your pretty, pretty booty? I'll be ass-raping her by proxy then."
"Fun for all!" agreed Emma.
The toy Emma was referring to was an terrifyingly clever invention of Bob's, known as The Ripper. Basically it was a double ended strap on, but the nasty end was a nine-inch long steel shaft. Arrayed along it, at half-inch intervals were counter-rotating rings of steel spikes, shaped for maximum damage.
The fact that each ring of spikes whizzed round in an opposite direction to it's neighbours meant that any orifice it was inserted into would rapidly be macerated into a bloody pulp.
The whole unit was driven by a small but powerful motor contained within the shaft, and powered by a rechargable battery pack.
They returned to the factory. Magda was lying prostrate in the tray, still groaning from her ordeal, and mumbling in Polish. Bob loosened the ropes, while Emma strapped herself into the Ripper.
She clipped the battery onto her belt and watched in glee as the teeth on her shiny new dick whirred around. She demonstrated it to Magda, who, realising what was in store for her, promptly pissed herself, leaving a yellow puddle in the tray.
Emma turned the Ripper off again while she got into position. Then, she pushed the pointy business end into Magda's asshole.
Feeling the cold steel penetrate her, Magda gasped, and tried to crawl forward.
Placing an arm around her neck, Emma lay down on top of her, and rode her like a wayward donkey as Magda gamely lurched forward. Now Bob joined the party, and climbed aboard his wife's perfect tush. The extra weight was too much for Magda, and she collapsed to the floor with a grunt, her chest squashed against the smooth steel.
Bob squirted a little lube, gently eased himself into Emma's sweet butt-hole and started to slowly fuck. "Ready when you are," he whispered into his wife's ear.
Emma flicked the switch and the blades whirred into life. Magda yelped as some of the spikes caught on her inner thighs, tearing at her pudgy skin.
Emma pulled herself forward, and as she started to enter Magda's bum-hole, the screams abruptly rose in intensity. Magda tried to evade the infiltration of her body, squirming and bucking, her fingers clawing helplessly at the ground.
This only served to make things more stimulating for the happy couple, who were starting to get a rhythm going. Both started to push harder and deeper into their respective pits of delight.
The first spinning rings of destruction soon made Magda's sphincter history, and she tried kicking with her legs, her shrill screams becoming roars.
Her rectum was next on the menu, and soon a vile pool of blood, gore and shit was pooling under her. The pain was beyond anything imaginable, and she started to gasp in shock.
Still, Emma had only pushed a third of her length into her brutalised body, and decided to let Magda enjoy the full experience of mechanised buggery. Tightly grasping around Magda's neck, she pulled herself deep into her abdominal cavity.
A piercing shriek announced that guts were being liquidised into pureé. Emma started thrusting her silver member in and out, each time finding new viscera to obliterate, and delighting in the convulsions she could feel transmitted through the dildo. Magda's constant screaming rose and fell in pitch with each thrust like a demented fire engine, only serving to fuel Emma and Bob's lust further.
Bob and Emma had never had so much fun. A side benefit of this contraption was that it also acted as a vibrator. Emma was rapt in ecstasy as the 'brrrrzzzz' of the motor rose and fell, as she pushed and pulled, and Bob could feel it too, giving his wife's familiar orifice a whole new dimension.
Bob, through his wife, could also feel the blades jaggedly tearing into the guts, muscle, fat and connective tissue, and every tremble of Magda's squirming paroxysms, an unexpected visceral delight. It was if the two of them had become a single orgasmic entity.
Emma, Being stimulated so strongly in front and behind was now on a higher plane of bliss. She started orgasming, even though it had only been a couple of minutes since they had started. She could feel her own juices squelching against the length of smooth steel she had clenched in her snatch.
Reaching under Magda's body to pull herself deeper, Emma discovered those massive breasts, and started kneading them joyously, then remembered that one was punctured by the earlier stomping. She worked her fingers into the holes of that ruined tit, squeezing and squelching the fatty tissue until a tantalizing trickle of blood dribbled down her fingers.
Then she left the whirring monster inside Magda's rapidly deteriorating belly, and started wiggling it from side to side, feeling it rip into new expanses of flesh. The pitch of the motor rose and fell with each sway, and Emma continued to be overwhelmed by wave after wave of orgasms. Shock had silenced Magda now, bar heaving, agonized gasps.
The relative quiet allowed a delightful mix of farting, squelching and wet chewing noises come to the fore, adding further to the highly charged atmosphere.
Bob, because of the relief he had enjoyed in the day's earlier exploits, still managed to contain himself, but was having the ride of his life. Never before had he seen his woman be so aroused, and as she bucked, swayed and vibrated below him, her tight asshole gripped and massaged his dick to the point where he could barely hold on.
Emma was now humping, thrusting and twisting with all her might in a frenzy of motorised carnage. Magda's innard's were mulched into soup, her guts, bladder and uterus having been blended into a gooey paste.
Soon the blades bit through her belly muscles and fat from inside, intensifying the vibrations. It was too much for Bob, who finally shot his hot, sticky sauce into his wife's welcoming behind. Emma whooped and moaned, unable to contain her pleasure.
Then there was a shriek, not from Magda, but from hard steel scraping against steel. Emma had drilled right through her.
Emma pulled out, spraying all kinds of fluids in every direction. She turned the thing off, the shaft now coated with a thick layer of gore, and dripping with blood. She lay there for a minute, with Bob's still hard dick inside her, savouring the petite mort.
Bob heaved his frame from the exhausted pile of bodies, then Emma followed suit, undoing the straps of the machine with trembling hands. The couple sat on the floor, utterly spent, panting and drenched in sweat. They looked in awe at the size of the bloody lake spreading out from under Magda, and reeled at the heady funk that now permeated the factory.
"Damn, I forgot to take the lens cap off," sighed Bob, "we'll have to start again."
It was the oldest joke in the book, but they were both wracked by fits of laughter, hooting until they cried.
Bob stood, and, grabbing an arm, flopped Magda over onto her back. There was a two-inch wide hole perfectly centred where her navel used to be, surrounded by the puncture marks from the stomping. The whole front of her body was drenched in blood. More was still trickling from her minge and the place where her butt-hole used to be.
Emma looked at the ragged hole in Magda's middle. "I heard belly-button piercings were all the rage, but I can't see the attraction," she quipped, and they started laughing again.
"I dunno, it's a nice look," countered Bob, "One more orifice to fuck!" And he would have. He didn't have the energy though, and there were still more dishes on the menu to be savoured.
Magda, was still alive and concsious, at least for now. Bob guessed Emma had missed the most vital organs, either by luck or design. The ruined woman's ghostly white complexion spoke of shock and serious blood loss, and it was clear she wouldn't be around for much longer.
Emma thought it best to see if they could keep her alive until the finale, and suggested raising her feet. Bob grabbed the remote for the hoist, and used it to lift her legs, while Emma administered an energy drink to try and replace lost fluids. Magda seemed confused about what was happening, and was mumbling in Polish.
Twenty minutes later, Bob felt ready to continue, and a plan had formed. Bob would rape Kasia, while Emma would do Maisie, while they watched Magda get obliterated by the Masher.
Soon they were back with the two kids. Maisie started crying again when she saw the ruins of mummy lying in a pool of blood. Kasia said nothing, just stared wide-eyed in horror, she felt weak at the knees, wondering what was in store for Maisie and herself.
Magda was barely conscious, moaning and pleading, in a sea of congealing blood and filth.
Bob cut away her ruined jimmies then used the hoist to lift her naked body by tied wrists. Carefully positioning her, he lowered her into the Plexiglass chute, then climbed the access ladder and cut the rope securing her wrists. Then the slops tray was hastily hosed down, ready for the next phase.
The piston was already positioned at it's furthest reach, tight against the mashing grill, so that Magda was standing on top of it. Her knees buckled, but she could not fall further, constrained as she was by the Plexiglass walls. She slumped against the side, wedged in. In her weakened state she could do nothing more than gasp and moan.
Once Bob had everything in place, he turned around to see Emma holding up another strap-on. In place of a cock, this one had a viscous looking serrated knife, with large barbs adorning
it's seven-inch blade. She certainly does like her double enders, he thought.
A few minutes later, everything was in place. The little one had her ankles bound and was placed face up in the slops tray, head toward the mashing grill. She seemed not to have much energy, perhaps her earlier adventures had left her with internal damage.
Kasia was grizzling but seemed more stoic. With just a word from Bob, she cooperatively lay down on the wet steel, next to her sister.
"Ready to enjoy the show?" teased Emma.
"I won't look," Kasia sulked.
"You can listen though. You can't put your hands over your ears if they are tied up can you?" It was clear Emma was enjoying tormenting the girl.
As she was being so cooperative, Bob elected not to tie her up anyway. If she got unruly, he was sure he could handle it. Besides, he liked it when they tried to struggle and escape. He found the thrashing of girly limbs a real turn-on.
Despite her ankles being bound. Maisie was trying to crawl out of the pit. Emma grabbed her by the arm and flipped her over. Then she straddled her and pulled down her jammies.
Bob stood over Kasia and gave her a big smile, that made her feel strangely weak. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage as he straddled her.
Bob pulled out his knife, and Kasia squealed. "Please make it quick!" she pleaded.
"No funny stuff, ok?" He said, putting the knife against her throat. Kasia nodded, wide eyed and thought she was going to pee. Bob put the knife away and strapped it tightly. He didn't want this little bitch grabbing it while he was doing the business.
Then Bob pulled Kasia's PJ bottoms down. He took a good look at Kasia's slit, squirted a little lube, Then eased a couple of fingers into it. After massaging her a little, he pulled out his dick and gently pushed in.
"Ohhhhh" Kasia moaned. It was her first time, and it was pretty uncomfortable. But still she felt a slight tingle of naughty pleasure that caught her off-guard.
"I think we're all set," Bob told Emma, and watched as slowly Emma pushed her steel blade into Maisie's tight coin-slot causing her to erupt with a near-ultrasonic girly scream.
Kasia gasped in horror as she saw the knife enter and turned her head away from her sister. It was clear that they were going to rape Maisie to death and she had no reason to think that she would fare any better. She just hoped it would be over with soon, and that death would take her away from this nightmare.
Bob reached for the controller, flicked a switch and an electrical hum emanated from deep in the machine's bowels.
He turned the speed control knob, the hum intensified, and the flywheel started to turn. Of course this had the effect of sliding the piston away from under Magda's feet, causing her to suddenly drop down the chute by that eight inches.
"Ooooher," Magda moaned piteously.
Everything was moving very slowly and it took a few seconds for the piston to reach the other side of the box. Then it started to return. Despite her earlier declaration, Kasia was watching wide eyed, looking up at her mother above her.
"No no no! Stop it!" She yelled as suddenly she realized what was about to happen. She suddenly squirmed under Bob helplessly trying to escape, he slammed her head down and rammed home his cock, causing her to squeal like a beaten puppy.
Emma was savouring the moment, and started thrusting her blade deeper into Maisie's cunt, which caused the most intense bubbling shrieks of pain and anguish. The blood looked like a black sheen on Maisie's brown legs, as it trickled down between her squishy thighs.
Then the piston reached Magda's chubby feet, and painted toenails, and pushed them inexorably towards the grill. The sudden change in her footing caused the mother to twist a little and slump over to the near side. Her mangled left breast spread out against the glass, causing the wounds to open, revealing yellow fat, and leaving a bloody smear.
Suddenly, Magda visibly stiffened in pain as her feet reached the end of their journey, twisting around sideways at an unnatural angle. Then as they reached the grill, with a deep, solid sounding crunch, they were mashed flat in a grisly burst of gore and forced through the inch-square holes.
A little blood spurted through the grill and landed in Emma's hair. Then with a plop, the mangled meat dropped into the tray, in a little pile, comically adorned with green spangles.
As the piston once again retreated, with a satisfying 'shick' sound, Emma slowly withdrew the blade from Maisie, slick with blood. Maisie's screams had subdued a little, becoming a sporadic wailing.
Bob turned up the speed a notch and started to fuck Kasia more forcefully, finding a nice rhythm. Kasia was panting and groaning in distress. But occasionally she would be swept with a wave of pleasure, making her feel guilty. As endorphins flooded her system, the pain lessened. She darkly wondered if she was actually starting to enjoy it.
Magda fell another eight inches. Now her meaty calves were in the line of fire, and the piston was returning again, the little extra speed seemingly imparting it with more purpose. Emma once again plunged the blade deep into the little one. More screams.
With her legs now side by side, Magda was face on to the grill. She could see out through the Plexiglass at her daughters being brutally raped. Still, any thoughts for them was overwhelmed by the agony wracking her dying body.
The piston reached the back of her calves, and the machine shuddered again as a little explosion of flesh and bone erupted through the mashing holes. A spurt of blood hit Emma square in the forehead and trickled down her nose. She eagerly licked it away as it found her lips.
The next stroke of the piston cause what was left of Magda's lower legs to splay out sideways, causing her to fall down fully onto her knees.
The piston returned to the masher. There was a loud bang as her knees exploded, then almost simultaneously, a fantastic munch sound as thigh meat was squished and torn asunder. Femurs were shattered and squeezed their bone marrow into the unholy mix. Fat, minced muscle and shards of bone shot through the holes.
Emma, being nearest, had turned her face away, worried about bone shards hitting her in the eyes, and the gore fell into a pile just beyond Maisie's pretty brown head. The next thrust was more of the same, only more so as the thicker parts of the woman's ample thighs were crushed and then squished into a meaty pile of oblivion.
Emma pushed herself up out of the growing pile of meat in front of her as the piston returned once again. This time the expansive bottom half of Magda's pear-shaped form was about to bite the dust, and clearly there was some real danger having her face so close.
Bob and Emma watched in fascination as Magda's thick hips, squidgy belly and flabby arse were pushed unrelentingly towards the grill. Bob could actually see the pubic mound through the grid, and watched in delighted horror as it squished, the skin tearing apart like wet toilet tissue.
Belly fat started to push through the grill, followed quite soon after by more of everything. Magda's pussy was torn to pieces by the unrelenting force, and piss exploded as her bladder was mashed, and copious quantities of minced meat, bone splinters, large intestines, and shit extruded through the holes.
It reminded Kasia of one of those pasta-making machines.
As the piston reached it's furthest reach, heavier thuds, crunches and pops shook the machine as the remaining pieces of shattered pelvis were turned to a gooey rubble.
Magda was silent now, apart from a faint panting. Emma was wailing in ecstasy, and a peculiar squealing was coming from Maisie, whose crotch was rapidly turning into what looked like an accident at an abattoir. Not much had been heard from Kasia, so when Bob looked down at her, he was surprised to see her wide eyed and with a faint smile of wonder on her luscious lips.
Bob continued to vigorously rape her, but then Kasia spoke up, her voice warbling with Bob's pounding. "I really hated those bastards." This unexpected confession certainly gave Bob and Emma pause for thought. With that revelation dispensed with, Kasia started reacting enthusiastically to Bob's thrusting, pushing with her hips, and giving little teasing wiggles.
Bob was stunned. Her muscular, gymnastically trained body was # working with his to maximum effect, her tight virginal pussy, pulsating with every thrust. It was so much more than he ever expected from a newbie.
The growing pile of steaming goo had now reached the top of Maisie's head. The next stroke of the piston would see her face buried under a delicious meal of belly fat, muscle, bits of uterus, liver paté, and shit-filled intestines.
Suddenly unable to breath, survival reflex kicked in and she tried to lift her head. Emma put her hand on her throat and shoved it back into the stinking pile, and gave her a couple of extra thrusts of the blade for good measure. Panicking, Maisie tried to turn her head, but was unsuccessful. Her little body heaved in convulsions to find air, the mound of minced entrails producing gurgles and bubbling sounds as she started to drown.
Emma delighted in the suddenly bucking and squirming form below her, but before Maisie succumbed to her mother's viscera, Emma pulled her bloody head free of the pile. Maisie coughed, blood and shit flying from her lips, then gasped, squealed, and gasped again. Overwhelmed by the filth in her mouth, she turned her head, retched, and barfed; heaving repeatedly into the gruesome mix.
Again the piston approached. Because of the pressure, not all of Magda's innards found their way through the grill. Her upper chest was being pushed up and down by the increasing gory mass below it. This had the titillating effect of making her breasts to rub up and down the Plexiglass, smearing gore as they went, rather like a cam whore giving a soapy display in the shower, only a hundred times more erotic.
This time gastric juices and remains of breakfast spurted as the stomach burst open, mixing with fleshy arm meat and cracking ribs. Then a dull pop sent a crimson wave of arterial blood flooding in all directions. It had been her heart, and finally Magda was dead.
Slimy white chunks of lung added to the mix in the pile. Now, all that remained of this soft feminine torso dropped into the line of fire.
Those beautiful white tits were next. Bob couldn't hold himself any longer. As the mammaries flattened, then squished and burst, he too burst into Kasia's sweet pussy, wave after wave of his seed shooting into her. Then he felt a little convulsion as Kasia orgasmed too. She was smiling and crying, her face contorted with every emotion from horror to ecstasy.
There was nothing left now except Magda's head, thick neck and a flopping, fleshy arm. The final movement of the piston saw to demolish those with a sustained and wet sounding crack and crunch.
As the skull was crushed, an eyeball flew through one of the grill holes, and rolled down the ever spreading mass of gore. Emma, sensing impending climax, pushed Maisie's little head once more back into the pile of filth.
Maisie's little brown body bucked and squirmed desperately for what seemed like an age, as Emma let rip with the pelvic blade, thrusting faster and faster, deeper and harder with each push. Each time the blade slid out, it dragged chunks of pussy flesh and other unnamable gore along with it. Wet plopping and queefing sounds accompanied every thrust, adding to the rhythm of the machine like some demented orchestra.
Emma finally moaned and climaxed as she felt the little one's body suddenly stiffen and convulse. She had reached her peak just as Maisie had finally drowned.
It was all over. "Yay!" cried Kasia.
Completely spent, Bob and Emma staggered to their feet looked down at her blood and shit spattered face, as she lay in the pool of her mother's fluids. Her eyes were gleaming, although tears were running freely down her cheeks. "They were always so mean to me, and Maisie got everything!" she explained with a quavering voice.
The three survivors stood surveying the damage. Apart from 150 pounds of blood and gore sitting in the tray, there were bits of flesh liberally sprayed about the place for some yards.
Bob reached into the pile and dragged out Maisie's limp body by the hair. Her now red pyjamas were utterly soaked, making them cling to her nubile little body. It was a shame she hadn't lasted longer, but no doubt they would still find some use for her body.
A thought struck him, and he turned to Kasia. Still unsure of the transformation he had just witnessed in her, he wanted to probe her reaction. "You can play with this if you like," he invited, dumping her sister's corpse at her feet.
"C-Cool!" Kasia's countenance seemed to have turned a darker shade, as if an uncanny evil had possessed her.
"But first we're all going to eat and shower," Bob said brightly.
The three of them went up to the lounge, showered and put on clean outfits. During the meal Kasia piped up bravely, "Are you really going to kill me?"
Two answers came as one.
"Of course!" said Emma.
"Maybe," said Bob.
Emma shot Bob a querilous look and raised an eyebrow.
Bob, addressed Kasia, even though he was staring defiantly at his wife, "We'll see."
An uncomfortable silence settled across the room for a couple of minutes.
"It won't be today, at any rate," Bob explained. "Here's the deal. You get to play with your sister today, on the condition that you clean the place up tomorrow. Then we'll decide what to do with you."
Kasia hung her head. It didn't sound very promising. She was stunned by the realisation that she most likely had her whole life planned out in front of her. A day of cleaning, then brutally raped to death by Bob and Emma, and fed into that Masher or some other machine.
But Bob had been kinda nice to her. She didn't know what to think. Maybe they were just going to use her for cleanup then finish her.
The trio finished their meal, and split a bottle of wine. Emma said she was exhausted and just wanted fall into a sleep of sweet nightmares. She crashed out on the bed leaving the other two to their devices.
"C'mon Kasia," Bob said, "It's time to see to your sister."
Kasia was keen. She thought she could at least still have some fun before they snuffed her. She grabbed Bob by the hand and dragged him towards the door. "Can I chop her with an axe? Can I gouge her eyeballs? Can I cut off her toes?"
Bob laughed at her new-found enthusiasm. "You can do whatever you want, as long as you clean up the mess."
Kasia was silent for a moment. A few minutes ago she thought she'd just be gouging eyeballs with a knife, and now a whole new vista of possibility was opening up.
"Even a machine?" she asked tentatively. She secretly hoped that choosing a machine would mean Bob could rape her again, just like with the Masher.
"Since you've been such a good sport, I'll let you choose any machine. But remember you have to clean up after."
Kasia was thrilled. "That masher was lovely," she said, "but maybe we can try a different one."
They walked together up and down the row of equipment, stopping at each so that Bob could answer technical questions that Kasia kept firing his way.
"I wish she was still alive," Kasia announced at one point. "I would have loved to make her cry for ever and ever."
"Do you like making girls cry?" Bob gently enquired.
There was a pause, then Kasia nodded. "Some girls."
"Well play your cards right, and you might get the chance. I think you already know that you're never leaving here, but perhaps you can have fun as long as you stay."
Kasia leapt at an opportunity. "Maybe you can keep me as a slave. I'll do anything," she flirted.
Bob said nothing. He didn't want to get her hopes up.
They surveyed the equipment a while longer. Just imagining what some of it would do was getting Kasia aroused.
"Maybe I'll just squash her flat. It's so yummy" she enthused.
"It's your call."
In the end she chose the Roller. A conveyor belt delivered it's prey to a four foot high steel roller that could crush pretty much anything.
The roller itself wasn't quite smooth, having ribs across the width of it which made sure it grabbed it's victim successfully lest she slip from it's grasp.
The conveyor belt itself was nothing like you'd find at a supermarket checkout. It was actually a modified bulldozer track, to withstand the tons of force the roller could produce. The belt continued beyond the roller for several feet in either direction, and terminated at scrapers which directed whatever remained on the track into a steel waste bin on wheels.
Bob showed her the simple controls. The belt and roller could turn either way and the roller's height above the conveyor was adjustable by hydraulic rams. Soon Kasia was putting it through it's paces.
Then they stripped off Maisie's bloody rags, and dragged the corpse over to the machine. One could almost imagine that little brown body still had life, were it not for the jagged hole torn between her legs.
Bob and Kasia then lifted the body onto the conveyor belt. Kasia decided that since she was already dead, she should go through head first. They arranged the corpse on the belt face down, legs tied loosely through holes on the metal plates of the conveyor, to stop her accidentally falling off. The arms were similarly restrained, stretched out ahead superman style, her head turned to face them so they could watch it pop.
"Come on then girl, we'll do it doggy style so you can watch your sister."
Bob found an old wooden packing crate of the right size, and Kasia stretched across it, facing the conveyor, her knees just touching the floor tiles.
Bob pulled down Kasia's PJ bottoms. After applying a little lube, he started prodding into her tightness with his throbbing dick.
"Oh-oh-oh," Kasia exclaimed, in a mixture of pleasure and pain. She was still tender from her earlier pounding, but it was yummy at the same time. She was panting hard with excitement and Bob enjoyed the movement it produced.
Then Bob pushed in hard, balls deep. "Yahhh!" cried Kasia, and tears sprang into her eyes. Bob kept his dick deep inside her for a few seconds, and he could feel her heart pounding.
Then he slowly withdrew and resumed with a gentle thrusting. He pressed the remote control into Kasia's hand. "I'll let you work the machine."
She clicked button to start, and with rumble and slight jolt that jiggled Maisie's corpse the belt started to move at it's lowest speed, maybe just a quarter of an inch every second. This suited Kasia fine. She wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible.
The mere anticipation of what was to come had an arousing effect on both Bob and Kasia. Bob grunted, and started pushing a little faster. Kasia started squirming and wriggling her butt, raising the pleasure for both of them. Clearly this girl was a natural. Bob realized he was taking quite a shine to her, but soon put it out his mind. He couldn't allow himself to get too attached.
Bob revelled in the tight, wet, warmth that was strangling his member. He could feel every wriggle, every pulsating wave of pleasure that Kasia was experiencing. Every breath and heartbeat, a symphony of delight. He raised the tempo, pounding her athletic cotton clad butt, as he shafted her pussy from behind with increasing ardour.
Suddenly he heard a noise behind him, and discovered that they had been joined by Emma, who had been woken by the sound of the machine starting. She was watching, fascinated, and rubbing herself through her onesie. A dark sheen had appeared at her crotch.
Maisie's little hands were now approaching the roller, which Kasia had set to run just an inch above the conveyor, thinking it would be super-duper to watch her sister's corpse be squished into an inch-thick pancake.
The three of them looked on with delighted horror, as Maisie's fingertips reached the roller, and through the inch gap.
Then finally the roller made contact with her brown hands, bound together as they were. There wasn't really any discernible noise, they were just gently pressed into the gap at first, but then there was a little pop as some of the numerous wrist bones were displaced, and then a gentle crunch.
Suddenly Maisie's dead eyes sprang open wide. Bob thought it must be a nervous reaction, but then an unholy choking sound issued from her. She coughed up some fluids and took a big gasp of air.
Jesus, thought Bob, and in surprise, stopped thrusting.
"What the f…" started Emma.
Kasia, panicking, fumbled at the controls. She went for the red stop button, but her hand was shaking, and she missed, instead hitting the button to raise the roller.
"I guess she's not as dead as we thought!" Exclaimed Bob. He shook his head in disbelief, then shrugged his shoulders, and resumed fucking Kasia.
Maisie gasped again, and started a sustained squealing, punctuated by more gasps. Her brown eyes darted from side to side as she took in the situation, and she tried to lift her head.
"Oh fuck fuck fuck," chanted Kasia, "I've fucked it up!" She seemed less concerned by the ungodly act that had occurred before her, and more by losing control of the machine. She once again grabbed at the controller, and sent the roller descending once more to it's proper place. The whole time, however, the belt had continued onwards.
Kasia realized that things were going sideways, and was about to hit the red stop button when she realized what was in store, that things could get very interesting indeed.
Her eyes locked with Maisie's. She started shouting, almost incoherently, "This is for you bitch fuck you payback time I hate you I hate you". She was practically jumping as she said it, and Bob's nutsack started to twitch, and once again he fought his urges under control.
The roller kept slowly descending, and finally made contact with the Maisie's body.
Kasia, having regained focus on the job in hand, stopped the belt moving, but allowed the roller's continued descent. Slowly it bore down into the feminine curve of Maisie's lower back.
A soft squishing sound came forth, as the gap between the roller and belt narrowed.
Eight inches. "Awwk!" squawked Maisie, "urrrgh". She was kicking with her legs, and trying to pull her arms free of their bonds, but, pinned in place, her efforts were futile.
Six inches. The puppy fat around Maisie's midriff started to bulge out, like love handles. Her increasingly desperate gasps became shallower and more frequent.
Five inches. A long, flatulent, slurping noise erupted from underneath her, as shit and gas were squeezed from her butt-hole by the pressure.
Four inches. A sudden tearing sound as her perineum was ripped open from her anus to vagina. The two orifices had become one. Then with a sudden 'splorp', her legs were pushed apart by a mass of intestines, uterus, and bladder squelching out through this newly widened cavity.
The skin of her newly formed love handles split open, and mushy white fat spewed out onto the steel plates of the conveyor.
Three inches. Now the pressure had really built up, and more intestines were squitting out with various spitting, squirting and farting noises. "Akkkkkkh," Maisie was screaming with her eyes, but her throat only managed this sad choking noise.
Two inches. A sharp pop as her spine gave way. Soft brown thighs jiggled and twitched as lumps of flesh were forcefully ejected between them.
One inch. A crescendo of wet crunching prompted Kasia to finally stop the descent of the roller. She wriggled in delight, pushing back against Bob's intense pounding.
Maisie's once rotund middle was completely flattened. Kasia was fascinated by how much it had splurged out sideways. Masie was opening and closing her mouth like a stranded goldfish, the pressure on her body such that she could no longer draw breath.
Kasia figured that she would soon be dead (again), but wanted to extend things as long as possible. She thought about putting the roller back to where it was before everything went pear shaped, starting over at the fingers. Then unbidden, the image of rolling out pastry suddenly popped into her mind and she giggled.
This little spasm nearly caused Bob to nut, and he slowed down to a gentle thrusting, trying to pace himself.
Kasia looked Maisie in the eye, gave her a big smile, and restarted the roller.
Maisie's booty started it's journey towards oblivion. This took pressure away from her chest and Maisie started gasping again, frantic ragged groans of purest agony. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and there was nothing she could do, no escape at all from the torment.
"Noooooooooo," she managed to cry, looking at Kasia imploringly. Kasia just laughed cruelly, and returned her attention to the roller.
Now, Maisie's perfect rump was being drawn into the two-inch gap. Little pops could be heard as more vertebrae were torn apart, then a gentle sighing as the thick fat on her buttocks was spread downward and outwards.
Another dull crack, this time as her pelvis split in two, causing her little legs to splay outwards at a funny angle. Maisie was starting to resemble nothing more than roadkill, at least from the waist down.
The roller continued it's unabated movement across Masie's botty, flattening it sideways, the skin bulging at breaking point.
Unlike Maisie's squishy, viscera filled middle, her chewy buttocks, being mostly meat and bone put up more resistance to the relentless progress of the machine.
Kasia could hear the hum of the motor intensify, and the speed reduce a little. The hydraulic pistons creaked and groaned, now under tons of pressure. A clang reverberated around the room, as metal shifted against metal.
A gentle cacophony of soft ripping, squelching and popping sounds accompanied the machine, as fat oozed away from Maisie's booty, and the skin of her hips giving way as more fat squeezed from her sides like jelly. Her gluteus maximus muscles were being mashed into her increasingly shattered pelvis with an ongoing 'Thriiippppp'.
Then a series of loud bangs shook the machine, as the final fragments of Maisie's pelvis exploded under the extreme pressure, cutting through flesh and puncturing the skin. The girl's body shook and quivered with each, and her moans warbled with each shock like she was being punched in the stomach.
The remains of Maisie's jacksie was slowly splattered and spread. Skin, fat, meat and bone were pushed in a wave by the roller, continuing their sickly sounds of destruction, and flooding out on a crimson wave, finally spilling over the sides of the conveyor.
Maisie's right leg, popped out of it's socket and was pushed half way out of the churning maw, before the roller once again caught up with it and smushed it into mince.
Kasia realised that Maisie was very near death now, and so turned the speed up. After all, squishing a corpse isn't nearly as much fun.
As the motor revved, the pace of destruction increased. Maisie's little brown legs were soon turned to mulch, and finally her toes had succumbed to the roller. Still she lived.
It was time to finish her. Kasia reversed the controls, and now the belt and roller started back in their tracks, towards Maisie's chest and it's vital contents.
Passing over the already flattened sections, it once again reached her lower back, and was now drawing the larger part of her abdomen under it's power. As her thorax was pulled into the narrowing wedge, Maisie gave a gurgle and started doing her stranded fish impression again.
Bob was close to the point of no return, unable to control little squirts of precum shooting into Kasia's tight little snatch, as Kasia gave wavering little gasps of pleasure with each breath.
Maisie's ribcage soon succumbed to the roller, being forced into the narrow gap. Kasia watched in delight as her dark skin was flayed and torn from her back, leaving contrasting marbled red meat showing underneath. As her chest was crunched flat, white ribs collapsed, snapped and poked out sideways from under the roller.
Then Maisie's mouth suddenly gaped open, and a little saliva trickled out. She made a strange, strangled cough, then the trickle turned to a stream of puke, then the stream turned into a gush of stinking digestive material, perhaps from her upper intestines.
Little Maisie was being squeezed like someone stepping on an open tube of toothpaste.
Her head snapped back and her neck bulged, then with a 'glurp' and a ripping sound her stomach turned itself inside out and forced it's way up her neck.
Maisie died for the last time, as a projectile vomit of blood, shit and entrails were sent spewing towards the thrilled onlookers.
Bob finally came fully, pumping load after load of stickyness into Kasia's pliant, hungry minge.
Still the roller blithely continued on it's merry way, folding the remains of Maisie's ribcage and shattering her shoulder blades, squirting out pieces of lung in a slimy shower in all directions. Soon her neck was engulfed in gore, then that too was mashed flat, leaving only her head and arms.
Maisie's skull was by now barely attached to anything, her spine having been ground to gravel, and it resisted being pulled under the roller a little at first. As the great wheel continued, it therefore half scalped the child, first pulling her cornrows into the bloody mass before finally getting a grip on her cranium, popping it like a melon under a jackboot.
A loud wet, cracking crunch reverberated through across the factory floor. Maisie's face contorted into a bizarre puzzled expression, with her tongue forced out, then ceased to look human at all as her eyeballs popped out of her skull, and bloody snot and cerebral matter shot from her nose.
A few seconds later, her brown arms too were squished, and there was nothing left of her at all except a long grisly trail of pulp, as if she had been run over by a steam roller. Slimey blood pooled on the white tiled floor, with little islands of yellowy brown faeces, and chunks of mystery flesh that had leapt, lemming-like from the belt.
Kasia shut the machine down, and a quiet fell upon the scene. Emma was moaning, the sight, sound and pungent smell of it all had brought her to climax. Bob stood up, his engorged cock dripping with semen. He ruffled Kasia's hair and said, "Good job kiddo."
Kasia herself was over the moon. Today's rite of passage had turned her into a different person, and a thousand emotions coursed through her heart and mind. She was sure of one thing though, she wanted to stay here forever.
The machine was reversed for a final time, and Bob stood with his arms around the two ladies, the trio all sporting broad grins on their sweaty, blood streaked faces, as they watched a twelve foot long streak of wasted human flesh get scraped from the conveyor and sloppily dumped into the wheely bin.
"Well kid, you've got a helluva job to do tomorrow, that's quite a cleanup" Bob told Kasia.
"I don't mind," Kasia replied, "It'll be kinda fun."
"Well, it's late. you better grab something to eat and get back to your cell. You can put your old clothes back on if you like."
Bob escorted her back to the cell block. Before closing the door, he looked into her eyes. A gaze held a little too long. Bob realized that he would have to watch himself. Emotional attachments weren't a good idea in this game.
Chapter 4. Bittersweet.
That evening, Bob and Emma sat on the couch, chatting excitedly about their day, and re-living some of the high points, giggling like teenagers about green spangles and rolling eyeballs.
Bob had fixed Emma and himself up with a fine single malt, and a joint was passing between them. But he was preoccupied, still thinking about Kasia.
"It's a bloody shame we'll have to snuff her, I'm getting attached, and we can't let that happen," he confided.
A flash of jealous anger flushed Emma's cheeks. "Damn right we can't! She's going tomorrow. No ifs or buts. I'm looking forward to it, to be honest. She's a little whore, and I'm going to make her pay. You should never have encouraged her, Bob."
Bob nodded. He knew it had to be done. He would have mixed feelings of course, but at least it would be more entertainment. As he started thinking about the method, he put his arm around his wife's waist and gave a little squeeze.
"Love you to bits." he said with a kiss, and they both laughed at his gruesome little joke, her understandable outburst soon forgotten.
"Well it's my turn to decide the method again isn't it?", said Bob.
"Er, technically, no," Emma replied indignantly.
"You decided yesterday," Bob mansplained, "it's my turn now."
"No, we agreed that I decided for all three, to save on cleanup, remember?"
"Well if that's true, then logically she has to go in the Masher."
"The little one didn't. Your new girlfriend stole that one from me," Emma teased.
Bob laughed. "I didn't see you complaining."
"But I wouldn't mind the masher," Emma continued, "it was a blast. I'd kinda like to hate-rape her with the Ripper too. Or smash her up with a sledge-hammer. Maybe all three. I know I shouldn't be so jealous, but that's how I feel. The thing is, Bob, you're a fucking idiot. Do you think I can't see that you're infatuated with her? Do you even think of the practicalities? It ends tomorrow, we'll do her after she's done her cleaning duties."
"Okay," agreed Bob, "but lets make it quick. I'll just put a bullet in her brain, after that she's all yours if you wanna have fun with her body, or else I'll just dump her in the lime pit."
Emma protested a bit, but then reluctantly agreed. There's always a bit of give-and-take in a strong relationship, and the thought of taking out her frustration on that bitch's corpse with a sledge-hammer did seem like an acceptable consolation prize.
Bob sat glumly, and downed his whisky. She was right of course. He had been a fool. If only he had kept his head, they could have had their fun with her, moved on, and looked forward to the next delivery. Now he had become smitten, and it was going to bring him a lot of pain.
The couple finished their drinks. They both had stuff to do the next day, attending to day-to-day jobs around the farm, and decided to turn in early, and get a goods night's sleep.
Bob woke with a start. Still early, it was just starting to get light.
Emma wasn't in the bed. Bob got up, trying to shake the drowsiness from his head. Where was Emma?
He flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. "Probably a fuse gone," he thought.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and trainers and padded down the stairs. Still no Emma. Concerned, he went outside, and noticed that the front door was already unlocked.
"Emma?" he called. He was met by silence. Bob had the sense that something was wrong, just a feeling he had been here before, but that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Everything was still, an uncanny hush lingering in the air mixing with the ghostly morning gloom to cast a miserable pall over the world.
Driven by instinct, he jogged up the path to the barn, his legs heavy. Bob didn't want to be having to deal with this shit before coffee.
He entered the tool store. The trap door to the factory was already open, and lights were on. As he descended, a strange sense of foreboding overcame him. He could hear a noise in the factory, and ran towards it.
He could hear Kasia pleading, and Emma's voice as he approached, "… and he's going to try and weasel out of it. We had a deal, and I'm going to have my fun, whore."
Emma was standing by the Masher, and Kasia was inside, naked. Clearly, Emma had decided to get an early start before Bob could change his mind again.
Bob strode up to her, "wha…" he started.
"She's got to go, Bob," she said cooly, "It's best if we do it right now, before you get more attached. Besides, it'll be fun."
Bob knew she was right. It had to be done. And he was the one in the wrong, breaking the promise. He would let his wife have her fun, and then at least it would be over with once and for all.
He looked through the glass at Kasia's pleading face. "I'm sorry, sweet pea. It has to be this way."
Kasia's eyes met his, another gaze held a little too long. "Bob! you can stop her" and it broke his heart. "I'm sorry Kasia, it's time."
Then he turned, and grabbed his wife, threw her on her back into the slops tray, and declared, "I'm going to fucking hate-rape you so hard for this!"
Emma smiled, clearly she was looking forward to it.
As they had done the day before the two of them lay down in the tray, and Bob entered his wife's cunt with no mercy. She mewled with pain and pleasure, then, cackling with glee, grabbed the controller and set the Masher into motion.
"I'm not ready!" Kasia protested lamely. She was facing towards the piston, and watched as it approached her feet. But, unconstrained, Kasia simply stepped up on top of it. When it retreated she stepped down again. Bob noticed that Emma had changed the height of the piston and grid to twelve inches.
"Time for your workout, whore!". Sreeched Emma.
Bob then realised what Emma's cruel plan was, and why Kasia's back was turned towards them. "Well," thought Bob, "at least I won't have to look into those pretty hazel eyes."
Bob realised that he was more attached to Kasia than he had allowed himself to admit. It was more than lust or infatuation. It was love. He violently drove in and out of his wife's crack in retribution, wanting to make her squeal in pain.
Emma turned the dial to speed things up a bit. Kasia looked like she was doing a work out at the gym, her tight muscular buttocks working up and down, as she stepped. and her legs thrusting like the piston that was to destroy her. Soon she was breathless, "Guys, this isn't funny! Make it stop!"
Emma responded by taking the speed up another notch. Shick-Shick-Shick.
And another. After a few minutes of this, Emma's pussy was dribbling with anticipation, and Bob had slowed a little, mushing in and out with a purposeful rhythm, drawing things out. Soon, Kasia was visibly tiring, and gasping for breath.
Her legs were burning with lactic acid and starting to shake. Her heart rate climbed to over 200 beats per minute. Another notch.
Kasia was getting the work out of her life, and despite his intense feelings of heartbreak and horror, a part of Bob was darkly lusting for the inevitable denoument.
He watched with morbid fascination, as sweat trickled down her trembling nubile body, as calf muscles strained under her pliant skin, and her bare, athletic cheeks wiggled enticingly this way and that.
Guilt swept over him, as he found he was enraptured by her gasping cries. Her pleas of disbelief becoming increasingly desperate as her strength started to fail her. Her legs were in agony now, but were all that separated her from a worse agony and death.
Soon she was in tears, "No no no no no no!", she cried in a rising scream, then her right leg started to cramp.
Then, inevitably, the moment came when Kasia didn't step up quite in time, and her trailing left foot was caught by the fast moving piston. She shrieked as her foot exploded through the grill, showering Bob and Emma with it's grisly components.
Her struggling spirit hadn't given up yet, though, and next time she managed to hop, one legged on top of the piston, her vital fluid spraying out from her ruined leg with impressive pressure, as her heart pumped harder than it ever had in her life.
But then, after one more frantic hop, she slipped on her own blood, lost balance, and spun around sideways; falling into the gap on her knees, her calves lying sideways on to the grid.
There was an almighty crunch, and the machine shuddered as the piston destroyed her lower legs and most of her thighs, leaving just ragged stumps.
An impossible amount of blood was gushing from her severed limbs, flowing down the grill, and spreading rapidly in the tray. Emma put her face into it and greedily licked, then cruelly twisted the speed down to it's lowest setting. The pitch of the motor rapidly fell to a low hum.
As the piston slid away from under Kasia, she found herself sitting at the bottom of the well, sideways on to the approaching piston. Instinctively she tried to push her self up with her hands, but shock and blood loss had made the task hopeless.
Very slowly the piston caught her in a pincer movement, and pushed her entire pelvic area towards the grid.
Kasia screamed again, as much as in dreadful anticipation as pain, "nooooooooooooo!"
The remains of her thighs were forced one on top of the other, her pelvis cracked, and Kasia wet herself, urine mixing with the flowing blood.
Then the piston relentlessly squished her two butt-cheeks together. Her pelvis was being flattened from the sides, and this had the effect of pushing it's contents outwards and forward.
She was still peeing, and the escalating pressure caused her piss to squirt upwards in an arc, hitting a Plexiglass wall, and washing away blood to create a clean spot as it trickled down.
Her little pussy squished out in front of her before splitting open along it's length, causing her womb to promptly prolapse, ejecting itself from this newly expanded gash with a wet "flump." Kasia's escalating shrieks told of excruciating agony, and Emma was clearly delighting in them.
Soon her uterus too was mashed into paste before joining bloody meat, bone and adiposal fat, as they were squidged through the grill. Flesh was forced upwards, too, lifting the rest of her body, so when the piston retreated her now-severed torso was dumped back down into a pit of her own innards.
Kasia looked down in horror at the wreckage below, then helplessly turned her arrestingly beautiful, tear and blood stained face to Bob. Their eyes met, and she parted her sensuous lips slightly, as if to speak, but no words came.
Overtaken by grief, Bob watched as she died, and the light vanished from her eyes.
The machine cared not. It continued it's implacable task of obliterating Kasia's abdomen. squirting most of her internal organs through the grill in one monumental wave.
Mashed up skin, intestines, liver, kidneys, spleen, fat, muscle, bone, spinal column, shit, piss, and bile all erupted in a spectacular flood of gore, slurping though the grill in a cascade of bloody carnage.
This incredible splatter-fest swept over Emma's head, and Bob, fired by hate and bloodlust, grabbed his wife's throat and drove her head down into the pile, just as she had done to Maisie the day before. "Let's engage in a little breathplay," he said as he pounded into her quivering minge.
Emma didn't react, Bob could feel she was holding her breath, no doubt expecting her loving husband to release her in due course.
The piston returned again splattering the the entire remains of Kasia's torso. Ribs and spine snapped and splintered, lungs and heart burst, stomach exploded, the remaining intestines were squeezed of their contents.
Her breasts almost comically managed to escape as they were pushed upwards on a wave of viscera, then plopped down again for the final thrust of the press which exploded her pretty blonde head, mashed her flopping, lithe arms and splurged those teenage titties through the grate.
Bob could feel Emma violently orgasming, and she tried to lift her head to breathe. He was about to cum, but stopped thrusting to contain himself. He held his wife down, and pushed her head deeper into the slurry. Emma tried to pull backwards, but Bob had other plans.
Soon, perhaps realising that Bob was no longer playing, Emma was getting desperate, and started thrashing forlornly with her arms, and bucking and squirming under her husband, trying to free herself. Bob came in bucket loads, then finally relented, and pulled her gasping form free of the gore. "You're not the boss around here, bitch."
But she had shown him that the most exquisite dish of all has the bittersweet taste of snuffing the ones you love.
Hello gentle readers.
I was hoping to solicit some feedback on the story so far. Apart from one kind comment, it feels like I'm flinging words into the void.
As I mentioned earlier, this is my first attempt at writing so any criticism would be gratefully received.
Is the pacing ok?
Is the gore too strong? (If it's not strong enough I don't know what to tell you lol.)
Are there any part that you don't understand, or continuity errors.?
I'm writing this for myself, but it would be interesting to know what people think.
Finally if anyone has any ideas for characters, let me know. If you any of you ladies want to come to a grisly end, post your details and I'll see what I can do. (no promises).
A name (hopefully not your real one!)
Skin, hair and eye colour
Any other characteristics that you think are important.
Bob's a atickler for his diary entries, so if you leave something out, I'll just make something up.
You can choose a machine too, but again, I can't promise anything. Most likely you'll have to see what fate Bob and Emma have in mind for you.
Finally, I would like to apologise for the story actually having a plot. I did say that would be a 'minimal' plot, but this thing seems to have gained a life of it's own.
I love it! Don't worry about the gore being too strong, it might be for some but others love it. Maybe you could vary it a little in your future stories.
The pacing and plot are excellent, there's already plenty of stories here with no plot and boring snuff, this story feels new and fresh. I don't feel I have to wait too long for the action either, in general I pretty much want to get straight to it. The scenario and the dynamic between Bob and Emma is interesting. Your writing is excellent, I've not noticed any big mistakes. I enjoyed this story, and I hope you want to write more!
Hope this provides you with some feedback. Gurochan can be quiet, but remember that there's always a lot more people reading than there are people commenting.
I would love to request a character, as long as that character also interests you:
13 years old
Black hair, pearly white skin
Small budding breasts, pubic hair just starting to form a small patch above her pussy
She has just discovered masturbation and despite her shy appearance she is constantly horny, and would appreciate dying in a manner that would give her some pleasure. I'm guessing Bob wouldn't mind taking her virginity either…
(Not based on a real person, this is only fantasy etc.)
Thanks so much for the feedback. It's very welcome indeed, especially as it's so positive.
>there's already plenty of stories here with no plot and boring snuff,
That's partly was drove me. I was reading stuff, and thought, "This is lame, hold my beer." I did enjoy the Dolcett Girls story, but it was a bit to much plot and not enough action for my taste. The scene in the meat grinder was delicious though.
> I hope you want to write more!
I absolutely do. I'm enjoying this far more than I imagined I would.
>I would love to request a character, as long as that character also interests you:
Funnily enough, an idea for one of the victims in the next part of the story was a Japanese girl, so Miku fits in perfectly with that plan. Expect to meet her around chapter 7. (I think). I'm just putting the final touches to chapter 5, and chapter 6 is well under way, so hopefully you won't have to wait to long to see what becomes of her.
This is a great story! Perfect combination of enough plot to mix with the nice gory snuff
>>15816>This is a great story! Perfect combination of enough plot to mix with the nice gory snuff
Thankyou! What's your favourite part?
Chapter 5. An Unconventional Arrangement.
Bob woke with a start, disoriented. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, then the familiar sight of the bedroom entered his consciousness.
"You okay?" Emma asked him, looking concerned and a little scared.
Bob took a moment to collect his thoughts. The dread from the dream was still palpable and he was drenched in sweat, "Nightmare."
"God, I thought you were having a fit or something."
Of course it had been a nightmare Bob thought, all the signs were there, the uncanny sense of things being wrong, the darkness, the anxiety. Bob lay back, replaying it in his mind before it could fade. "It was a doozy."
"You wanna tell me about it?"
Bob nodded. They always shared their dreams. "Breakfast," he said.
So Bob recounted the horror to his wife over the breakfast table. She put a comforting hand on his knee. "So what does it mean?"
Maybe it was worry about their relationship thought Bob. Maybe a warning about his feelings for Kasia. He said nothing, he had found that the truth in dreams tended to emerge over time.
Emma had a much more pragmatic take. "Well, whatever it means, It would be a glorious way for her to go. Maybe we should just follow your dream. I know you're fond of her, but we're in this game for the splatter, not for long term, lovey-dovey relationships."
Bob reminded her that she had already agreed to a quick kill, and Emma shrugged. "Well just make sure you do it, or maybe your dream will come true."
During the morning, apart from a visit to get Kasia started with the cleaning, Bob and Emma stayed around the farm. They trusted her enough to allow her full access to the factory, so she could perform her duties, but she was still captive there. No escape.
Emma went to check on the animals, and Bob did some video editing in the study.
After lunch, Bob had a serious love making session with Emma while re-watching the previous day's events in the bedroom, but his mind kept flashing back to the dream, and Kasia.
He was reluctantly steeling himself for the job ahead. He decided that he would slit her throat when she was least expecting it. She would black out within seconds, and die peacefully.
Through the day they watched Kasia's movements through the camera system, and were pleased to see that, true to her word, she undertook to clean up the mess; shovelling the remains of her mother and sister into bins, dumping bins into the pit, then hosing and scrubbing in and around the machinery, and finally mopping the floor. It was a full day's work.
The sun was getting low, and Bob and Emma, made their way back into the factory. Kasia met them, very pleased with herself. "I cleaned the whole place!" she said enthusiastically.
They inspected everything, as sure enough, she had done a great job. Emma gave Bob a nudge in the ribs, and shot him a meaningful look. It was time.
"Great job kiddo," Bob said. He wanted everything to appear normal, so she wouldn't suspect anything. He looked her up and down, her PJs looked like she had been dragged through a slaughter house.
"I think you need a shower," he laughed. He turned to Emma, and with a wink said, "I'm going to get this girl cleaned up, I'll see you back at the house in a while."
"Just make sure everything's taken care of before you leave," Emma said cryptically, and gave him a kiss.
Bob and Kasia headed upstairs to the shower, as Emma returned to the farmhouse.
Kasia had seen the wink and knew exactly what that meant. No doubt Bob had a 'special treat' for her being such a good girl. As soon as they were in the bathroom, she stripped off her dirty clothes, and flashed a stellar smile at Bob, gyrating in a kind of sexy dance, and biting her lower lip.
Cleaning gore all day had made her horny, and now she was glad it was playtime. Bob had intended to snuff her while she showered, but now his libido had got the better of him.
"Fuck it," he thought, "I'll give her what we both want, and then I'll do it. At least she'll die happy."
Bob undressed, and stepped into the shower with her. After soaping each other down, Kasia lept onto Bob, flinging her arms around his thick neck, and her supple legs around his waist. Then she lowered herself onto his cock, and they fucked like animals.
Kasia bounced up and down on his boner enthusiastically, forcefully French kissing him with her luscious lips, her tongue striving to play with his. He occasionally slammed her into the wall, thrusting hard into her as he did so. She seemed to delight in this, mewling at his pounding domination of her.
Bob had just shot his load into her soapy twat, when they were interrupted by an insistent beeping.
"Bollocks," said Bob, "I've got to check this, sweetheart."
Dripping and naked, he trotted from the shower, and into the lounge. It was the intruder alert. Checking the cameras, he spotted Dave's van. "I've got to go, sweetie. I'll be back soon".
Bob hoped that there hadn't been trouble with the payment transfer. They never spoke by phone, as it was deemed to risky to leave an electronic trail.
Emma met Bob at Dave's van. She looked suspiciously at his wet hair and damp t-shirt. "Well?" she asked.
"I'll do it later. Let's see what Bob wants first."
Exasperated, Emma muttered," for fuck's sake Bob." But it wasn't the right time to start a row about it, so then held her tongue.
Dave opened the back of the van. They peered into the gloomy interior. There was something covered by a tarp. Next to that, bound and gagged, was another delivery.
"Fucking hell Dave," Bob exclaimed, "You're going to have to slow down, we haven't finished the last lot yet!"
"I'll take her away again if you like," Dave replied gruffly, "But you still pay 'alf."
Bob laughed reassuringly, "No, no, that's fine mate, she looks like a fine specimen, we'll take her."
"You serious about that 'slowing down' thing?"
Bob gave Dave a wry look. "Nah, keep 'em coming if you can, just don't take any chances. Make hay while the sun shines I say."
The new guest wasn't cooperating, kicking and squirming violently. In the end they decided she'd be a bit of a handful to get down the stairs, and elected to deliver her via the machine hatch directly onto the factory floor.
Bob pressed the remote. A twenty foot section of the concrete floor opened up. The new barn had an X-Y crane just like the one in the factory. Bob brought the hoist over, and hooked it onto the fresh delivery, then as Dave started lower the girl, Bob climbed down the ladder.
He waited at the bottom as the woman slowly descended, muffled cries coming from her ball-gagged mouth. Suddenly Kasia was at his side. She watched the fresh meat coming towards them, "Yay!"
At the familiar voice, Dave's beady eyes looked down at the faces peering up at him, and gave Bob and Kasia a quizzical look. He didn't say anything though. No questions asked.
"Ok Dave, we got this," Bob called.
"There's one more thing, come 'ave a gander," said Dave, tapping the side of his beak-like nose. He was a curious little fellow, in his fifties, with a weaselly face, slight stoop, and a thick gold chain draped around his scrawny neck. A character from a Dickens novel thrown 150 years into the future. If there was one word that summed him up, it was 'dodgy'.
Appearances can be deceptive. This was all part of an act. Many criminals use a legitimate business as a front for their more nefarious activities. Dave went a stage further, and used petty crime as cover for his more lucrative pursuits. A deception within a deception.
The guy was as sharp as a tack, and skillful in silently penetrating buildings, hacking computer systems, laying decoys, and subverting any attempts to track him. But most just knew him as 'Dodgy Dave.'
Bob climbed back up the ladder. Dave pulled back the tarp, and revealed an outboard motor, the sort used on speedboats.
"What's that?" asked Bob.
"Well some of my boys were doing a little job down at the docks, and things got a bit sticky. This was part of the haul. It's too hot for my liking. I just wanna see the back of it, these things are all have numbers these days, an' fencing ain't my game. I just wanna get rid, pronto. It's yours if you want it."
Bob smiled at Dave's 'stay lucky' lingo and cockney accent. He scratched his beard. "I s'pose I could find some use for it. Sure."
So the outboard was lowered too. Below, Kasia looked at it with great interest, wondering what Bob would do with it.
Dave saluted a goodbye, Columbo style, climbed back into his van and drove off into the night.
A few minutes later Bob, Emma and Kasia were in the cell, looking down at the new catch. She was wriggling and squirming on the floor, bound and hogtied with ropes, still trying to shout through her gag. The most prominent feature, was her size. This was one big heifer, and quite a pretty one too, as far as they could tell.
"I can't be arsed to deal with that right now." Bob said, "She can wait till morning. By then she might have calmed down a bit."
He looked at Kasia. "Looks like you've landed yourself another cleaning job, girl". Emma stared at him defiantly, with her hands on her hips.
Kasia realized that she had been lucky to be treated so well. A night tied up on a cold hard floor didn't sound like much fun. Then Bob spoke to her. "You can stay in the lounge tonight, as long as you behave yourself. Get a good night's sleep, big day tomorrow." Then thought, "and your last, too," as a pang of remorse tore at his heart.
An hour later, Kasia was curled up warm in that big soft bed. She did wonder why there was a damp patch in the middle, but it was way better than the cell all the same. "I'm sure I won't be able to sleep," she told herself, but within minutes exhaustion overtook her and she was out like a light.
Back in the farmhouse, Emma turned to Bob. She wasn't happy. "So what the fuck is going on?"
"I was about to do it," Bob explained reasonably, "but the alarm went off. Now I'm thinking we could use her for cleanup again."
"OK, last chance," his wife declared. "Do it after she's cleaned up the new one, or I will. She's got two days. To be honest, it's not fair. I'd should be torturing that little whore, and you're undermining me. I'm giving you an easy option here, and you're taking advantage."
She carried on with her tirade, "And if I snuff her, believe me, I won't be worrying about how much mess it makes, or who gets to clean it up."
Bob rarely saw her this angry. But it was understandable. Emma was jealous, and she wanted to take it out on Kasia. He could see that Kasia could drive a wedge between them, and knew that he had to do what was promised, or things would come to a head. Every relationship has it's breaking point.
Bob and Emma were back at the factory by 8 am. The viewing lounge smelled of frying bacon, as Kasia had fixed herself a substantial breakfast in the galley. She finished that off, and declared, "I'm still hungry," as she returned to the kitchen, re-emerging a few minutes later with a big bowl of porridge with sultanas and honey.
Bob revelled in her teenage appetite, "eat all you want," he told her, "it's going to be a long day."
"Yes, you must," added Emma, licking her lips, "You're going to need your strength."
Kasia thought she was acting a bit creepily, and the story of Hansel and Gretel came to mind. The wicked witch fattening them up before consuming them. Still, she knew she had nothing to worry about, Bob had told her she could stay. The thought of being a willing sex slave in this paradise enchanted her.
The couple left Kasia to her own devices, then suited and booted, they tooled themselves up and went to the cell block. Their new guest had managed to wriggle into the corner of the cell, and had propped herself up against the wall.
She tried to speak, "Mmmmffff."
Emma went over to her and removed the gag. It had dried snot and saliva stuck to it, and she tossed it into the sink.
The woman silently worked her jaw a few times, clearly it had more or less seized up after having the gag forced into it for so long. She looked at Emma through teary eyes, unable to speak. Eventually she offered, "What do you want with me?"
"Well, sweet cheeks," Emma explained with a smile, "we haven't really decided on the details yet. But we plan to slowly snuff you in the most tortuous and messy way possible, using your dying body for our selfish sexual gratification. If you play your cards right, It could all be over by teatime."
There was no need to deceive this lone female with sweet talk, and Emma was having fun mentally breaking her.
The young woman was silent for a while. Then said in a wavering voice, "I need to pee."
Bob grabbed her by a rope and hefted her away from the corner. He felt the weight, looked at Emma, and chuckled, "It's a good thing we're not paying Dave by the pound, or else I'd be bankrupt!"
He dropped her face down onto the floor and her forehead bounced off the tiles with a painful sounding clunk. Emma sat on her legs and Bob kept her pinned down with a knee between her shoulder blades. He untied the ropes then stood up. The woman continued to lie there.
Emma clearly wanted to elicit some kind of reaction, so she stepped around and flicked a boot into her kidneys.
"Uuurgh" The woman moaned.
"Get up, you fat cow," Emma barked.
The girl started to get up. Having been tied for so long, her limbs had cramped, and she was struggling to even get on her knees. Eventually she managed to shakily stand.
She was nearly as tall as Bob, and she was big. She had a young, full face, with flushed complexion, framed by tresses of auburn hair cascading down past her chubby neck. Huge 38H breasts couldn't be disguised even by the unflattering black dress she was wearing. She still had a bit of a waist though, even with a muffin top spreading out over her tight waistband.
Her hips were wide too, although perhaps not as extreme as Magda's had been, but her ass managed to be rotund, but somehow still pert, Bob thought there must be a good bit of meat under that fat.
Her legs too were massive; thunder thighs that gave way to heavy calves that looked like they had been poured into her large black boots, overflowing a little at the top.
Emma allowed her to stagger to the toilet, where she sat and pissed like a horse.
She was still unsteady on her feet so Bob told her to sit on the bed. At that moment Kasia entered the room, and looked at the heifer sitting there with interest. Bob turned to her and said, "Kasia dear, could you pop upstairs and fix this girl a protein shake, and some of that porridge?"
A few minutes later Kasia returned with the goodies. By then Emma had established that the girl was nineteen years old, and called Rachael. She guzzled the strawberry shake down, and started to get her strength back. She looked at the porridge, but her ordeal had stripped her of her appetite.
"You will eat it!" demanded Emma, but Rachael just shook her head.
Emma pulled out her blade. "Eat!" she shouted and put the point of the knife against Rachael's throat, just enough to break the skin. Rachael reached for the spoon, and started putting the porridge into her mouth. There was no appetite there, just a mechanical motion. Porridge. Mouth. Swallow. Repeat.
After a minute or two, she started to falter, but a flash of steel forced her onwards. Eventually the bowl was empty.
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, don'cha think?" Emma asked sternly.
Rachael nodded compliantly.
"Good. Kasia darling, go get her some more," Emma cackled.
This time Kasia took longer to appear, but returned with a plate of baked beans on toast, 2 packets of biscuits, and thoughtfully, mugs of tea for all.
"She's certainly eager to please," thought Bob.
The force feeding of Rachael continued until everything was finished, washed down with two pints of tea.
Then the four of them moved to the processing room. She was dealt with in the usual way.
Stripping her revealed she had a fulsome, Rubenesque figure which on an older woman would be flabby. But on Rachael, her taut youthful skin kept everything in place. The largest pyjamas hugged her form nicely, tightly wrapping around her impressive rump. Bob thought her tits would look better supported, rather than flapping around, and made her put her bra back on. With a belt accentuating her waistline and sporting an award-winning cleavage, she looked pretty damn hot, a sexy plus-sized model.
Rachael (19) 38H-32-42 1.88m 110kg
After recording the details in his book, Bob smiled at Emma and said "Well this one is definitely my turn. It's a lot of meat, and I think I know what we both have in mind."
As a general rule, the bigger an animal is, the longer it takes to die. All things considered, within the context of the factory, this was a good thing.
Rachael was frog-marched to some warehouse-style roller shutter doors at the back of the factory. Beyond this was a shortish tunnel, big enough to drive a van through, then more shutters.
Kasia hadn't seen this area before, and was excited as to what was at the end of this mystery tour.
Soon they were in what appeared to be a garage. There were shelves on one side, with bottles of antifreeze, engine oil, and assorted tools and spare parts. Kasia recognized an air filter but not much else. A hose reel sat in one corner, and a welder in another.
Opposite the shelves were three machines were under tarps. "What's those?" Kasia asked, curiosity getting the better of her. She peeled back a corner of a sheet, and dropped it again when she saw a row of sharp spikes. "Oh my God." she cried excitedly, as if she had just seen the holy grail.
"Not using those today," Bob replied tersely, "they're not ready yet."
Emma, stepped forward, to a large blue steel door ahead of them. She pulled a long lever on it, and it responded with a clang, freeing the bolts that held it fast. Then she put her weight behind it and it slowly swung open.
Beyond, was darkness. Kasia could feel her heart pounding. Bob flicked some switches on the wall. With an electrical zap and a hum, arrays of metal-halide lamps flickered into life, gradually brightening as they warmed up. They reavealed a large, brilliantly lit, circular room, perhaps fifty feet across.
It was empty. White concrete walls were punctuated at intervals with steel rings, for tying ropes to, and reached up to a high ceiling; a dull lattice of beams that held cameras as well as the lights. Below was a steel floor, with a knurled texture and a manhole cover in the middle.
Kasia felt a sense of anticlimax. She couln't see any machines. She looked up and wondered if they were going to drop weights on the giantess from above, but couldn't really see beyond the glare of the lights.
Bob prodded Rachael in the back with the shotgun, "In." Soon they were standing in the middle of the Arena.
Without warning, Emma suddenly swung at Rachael's head with the bat, hitting her jaw with a bone-shattering whack of reverberating wood and cracking bone.
Rachael dropped instantly, falling to the floor like a sack of potatoes, concussed by her broken jaw. A little blood trickled down her chin.
"I'll go fetch a few things," Bob said, "Do you two ladies think you can handle her until I get back?"
"Sure thing," said Emma. Bob handed her the shotgun, then left the girls to deal with the captive.
Back in the workshop, Bob started filling a wheeled cage with everything needed to do a bit of forest clearance.
He started with long lengths of steel cable and a hand winch. Boxes of fittings, straps, spikes, and other miscellaneous hardware were added to the pile. Then sledgehammers, an felling axe, blow torch and a chainsaw were all hefted into the trolley. He looked around and spotted an anvil. He wasn't sure what was needed, so he brought everything he could think of.
Finally he added a bag containing Emma's exotic collection of toys, and her spiky boots. "That kinda blows the whole 'woodland management' cover story," he thought with a grin.
While he was away, the two girls worked as a team, tying Rachael's hands and feet. They didn't need her to wake up and start running about the place before they were ready.
Then Rachael picked up the shotgun, and worked the pump action. Then swaying her hips provocatively, and pouting a little with a carnal smile, she turned and pointed it at Kasia's belly.
Aghast, Kasia stepped back a pace.
"I can see why he fancies you," said Emma, "I do too, to be honest. You're delicious, I just wanna eat you up. What do you think I should do with you?"
Kasia thought that any ideas she had, were unlikely to meet Emma's approval, and so said nothing.
Emma dreamily carried on with her stream of consciousness. "Bob's machines are great, but sometimes it's just so much more fun to take the hands-on approach, don't you think? I might even let you choose. Sledgehammer or axe? Knife-dildo or Ripper? Should I carve the meat off your bones first or after? It looks soooo tasty. I'd probably start with those yummy titties, or those tender cheeks; I'll let you choose. Any recipe suggestions? If you're a good girl I'll let you have a taste before you go in the Masher"
She sighed. "So many choices, so few girls. If you can't choose, how about a bit of everything? An axe swing here, A smash with the hammer there, then, once you're really in the mood, we could play with the toys, and then prepare lunch."
"B-B-Bob said I could stay," Kasia stammered. "He said I could be a slave, and have fun as long as I stayed." On retelling Bob's conversation, Kasia realised that, despite his kindness to her, he had chosen his words carefully, and that she had fooled herself with wishful thinking.
"Well Bob's too nice for his own good sometimes. And we made an agreement, he's promised you to me. And I promised to put you in the Masher, just like your mum. And I intend to make sure we both keep our side of the bargain. Maybe if you're a good girl, I won't be nasty to you first. It really depends how I feel. Right now I'd like to spend days, slowly fucking you to death, you nasty little WHORE! And if Bob hadn't been such a softy, you'd already be dead by now, and not be standing there trying to think up recipes."
A moment later, they could hear a squeaky wheel, as Bob pushed the trolley down the tunnel. Emma pointed the gun back at Rachael, who was still sleeping peacefully.
As soon as he came in through the blue door, Kasia ran over and flung her arms around him. "Bob!" she wailed.
"What's up, buttercup?" He looked at Emma pointing the gun at Rachael. "Our guest isn't causing trouble I hope?"
Kasia had tears streaming down her face, "She's going to eat me!" Realising this sounded totally retarded, Kasia tried again, "I wanna know what's going to happen to me!" Bob looked down at her, and was shaken by her beauty. It just tore at his heart in a way that was utterly unbearable.
Emma interjected, shrieking, "I just fucking told you, you stupid little bitch. I'm going to have days of fun hearing you scream, then you're going into the Masher, toes first! If you still have any toes left by then! Ten toes! Ten days!"
Bob thought she was getting a bit unhinged. He hadn't seen her this bad before, and now he was concerned that she had the gun, which was now pointing at Kasia again. He hurried Kasia out of the Arena, and swung the big door shut.
Then, he strode over to Emma. She was in tears. "Fuck, Bob, what's happening to me?"
Bob gently took the gun from her. "I think we need to have a heart-to-heart."
Bob, Emma and Kasia sat in the viewing lounge. It was nothing a nice cup of Welsh tea couldn't solve, thought Bob. Both the girls seemed traumatised. Kasia was shaking, and Emma's tear stained face was sullen and guilty.
"So what happened back there?" Bob asked gently. Neither of the girls spoke up. Bob sighed, and went over to the computer. It had all been recorded. He watched the episode in the Arena unfold, then scratched his beard.
"Well, Emma," he said, matter-of-factly, "you're quite right. That's what we should do."
A dread overtook Kasia. "So this is it," she thought, "this is how it ends, they're going to torture and eat me. This is why they saved me until last."
"That's what we should do," Bob continued, "but that's not what's going to happen."
Emma spoke up. "We had an agreement, Bob."
"Yeah, well, sometimes rules have to be broken. I pretty much always let you have your way, because I respect and love you. And it's true that you hold power over me, you twist me round your finger, and I let you because of my undying devotion."
"But I'm the man. I made everything here, a playground for us both. It's the age-old balance of power. You bewitch me in a carnal trance, but I provide you with everything you have. You could destroy my soul, and I could beat you to death with my bare fists, cave-man style. I know it's not a fashionable idea these days, but there it is."
Emma nodded contritely. He had a point.
Bob continued, "I've got a proposal."
An hour later everyone was happy. Emma was stunned by Bob's forthright command of the situation, and had renewed respect for him. Bob was awed at Emma's ability to transcend her feelings of jealousy and defer to the higher principle of their devoted union. And his solution was brilliantly simple.
Kasia was to be their adopted daughter, and sex slave. Emma had been told by the doctors that she could never have kids, which Bob thought probably contributed to her instability, and after his exposition, the solution felt right, if somewhat unconventional. "Daughter with benefits," as Bob put it.
Emma had solemnly promised not to eat Kasia without her consent, and Bob had agreed that Kasia had to work for her keep, cleaning and snuffing as required, and go on the pill. A pregnancy would be highly inconvenient.
Between times, she could live a life of leisure, living within the factory; free to watch TV, play video games, and enjoy romps with Bob and Emma. Bob promised to get her some gym equipment and a sun-bed so she could stay in shape, and Emma would fix her up with a selection of outfits, some practical, some sexy.
It had been explained to her that she had a contractual obligation to be confined to the dungeon, with a re-appraisal on a yearly basis.
Kasia was overjoyed, not only to have been taken off the menu, but to have the coolest job and best parents in the world.
"Well, I guess it's time to celebrate," Bob said with a cheeky grin, "Anyone got any recipe ideas?"
Soz, meant Miyu, not Miku.
Although I could probably do both lol.
The name is not that important, as long as she is a cute little girl of japanese decent. Though the thought of two sisters being erotically snuffed together seems alluring…
Whatever you go with I'm really looking forward to it!
It's interesting how characters take on a life of their own. I've already got some ideas for Miyu, backstory, dynamic with the main protagonists, and her untimely demise, so it'll be a fun chapter to write. And, it is possible she'll have a sister or friend, although I'm still undecided. It'll prob be a little while though, chapter 6 isn't flowing quite as easily as the earlier ones.
Love the head destruction and farts and pooping parts. Do more!
Love the head destruction and farts and pooping parts. Do more!
I'm sure there will be more! Not really a scat fan, but it seems inevitable that when you're destroying cuties poop's gonna go flying.
Can't wait. Just the emphasis of a perfect girl doing something so gross is so hot
There'll be more in Chapter 6. It's coming along really well now, but I had to stop and fap half way through (a good sign!)
Should be up in the next few days.
Chapter 6. Party Pooper.
Under the celebratory circumstances, the family had decided to share the decisions as to what to do with the captive. Bob wanted to continue his original scheme, and Emma had decided to redirect her frustrated plans for Kasia onto the fresh meat. Kasia, too was given a say in matters. Conveniently, none of their ideas seemed to conflict, and so they eagerly set about business.
The happy family traipsed back to the Arena. Rachael had come around, and was lying where they had left her. Deep underground, it was quite warm, and heat from the lights meant that the three could strip naked without feeling the chill. In view of the much anticipated splatter, being nude was the most practical option anyway.
The first job was to prepare Rachael for the forthcoming entertainments. They tightly bound her wrists to a length of scaffolding pole, about two feet apart. Then they did the same with her ankles. Rachael didn't have much to say about this, a broken jaw has that effect on some people. Then they attached cables to the poles, and between the walls, with the hand winch fixed to tighten the cables as desired. Thus they could use the winch like a medieval torture device to stretch their victim out.
They looked down on the hapless meat girl. "Mmm, nice rack," Emma joked, and they all laughed at the double entendre.
Rachael didn't seem to be much in the mood for partying, and typically, it was Emma 'the people person' who set to attend to her blues with one of her little pep-talks.
"It's normal to feel a bit shy at these kinds of gatherings," she said smoothly, "The best thing is to jump straight in. But to be honest darling, you're not really dressed for the occasion. Let's get you out of those fuddy-duddy jimjams so you can show a little flesh."
Emma strolled over to the cage of tools, and returned with the chainsaw. "This oughta do it. Probably best if you hold still." Emma fired up the saw. Rachael's screams of protest could be heard over the noise of the rasp of the two-stroke motor. With great skill and delicacy Emma used the saw to pop the buttons from Rachael's PJs. "See that's much better now!"
Rachael was sobbing, her front was completely bare, apart from the bra which was supporting her mountainous cleavage. Next Emma pulled down the girl's PJ bottoms, and straddling her, took her hunting knife and cut away the remaining rags from her legs, leaving her naked from the waist down.
Thus denuded, Rachael felt even more vunerable than before, even though she thought that if they were going to use a chainsaw on her, it would hardly make much difference. Then suddenly, she could feel cold steel pressing against the side of her clit. Not being able to see what Emma was doing, she instinctively gasped and moved away from it. Emma found with a little knife play, she could make her squirm this way and that with ease. "Dancing already! I can see you're going to be the life and soul of the party!"
Emma laid down on Rachael's body, and started unilaterally making out with her, kissing her passionately, fondling her milk jugs and slipping a couple of fingers into her fleshy crack. Rachael protested, shrieking at the violation.
"Well you're quite something," Emma declared as she got to her feet, "I'm sure you're going to have no problem scoring. Maybe you'll find someone here to spend the rest of your life with."
Bob and Kasia looked on, impressed at Emma's masterclass. Emma then wheeled the trolley over and started unloading the tools next to Rachael. "I expect you like a guy with a big chopper," she teased as she hefted the axe. Emma watched as Rachael's horrified eyes followed it's every move. She laid it down near her head with a clatter.
"And what girl doesn't like a good pounding from time to time?" This time showing off the sledgehammer. "Oh there's two of them! Twice the fun!" She laid the two hammers next to the axe. "Oh! an anvil, you're going to have a smashing time, I'm sure!"
"I think we should plan this out a bit," said Bob, practical as always, "So we can all get maximum enjoyment. After all, this party could go on all day."
"And all night!" added Emma.
"But your plans never work out," Kasia pointed out perceptively. [Editor's note: Blame the author.]
"Well that's lucky for you, isn't it, my little lamb?" Emma said, licking her lips.
Kasia piped up, "Oh, mum, please don't start that again." More hilarity.
"Don't worry, pudding pie, you're safe for now. Looks like there's plenty of meat to go around. Of course, if we run out…" She reached for Kasia, zombie-like, and Kasia ran, squealing and giggling.
"General non-fatal raping and torture first," suggested Bob, "followed by the more destructive fun and games, then we'll do the butchering, and lastly the splatter-fest and snuffing."
"We should have music!" Kasia declared.
"And wine!" added Emma.
"Okay, slave-girl," said Bob, "go fetch that boom-box from the lounge, and any alcohol you can find. There's a box of weed on the table. And bring some snacks! And be quick cos we're getting horny."
Soon the party was in full swing. Bob had fetched an old sofa from the garage, and music from Bob's eclectic playlist was filling the Arena.
# [Now playing: Woman – The Anti-Nowhere League]
The happy family was sitting on the couch, drinking and laughing. "So who's horny?" asked Bob.
Of course everyone was, with that treat laid out in front of them, who wouldn't be?
"I think we should let Kasia go first," said Emma.
"Yay!" came the expected response, "But how?" She looked up and down the sexy slab of meat. "Oh, I got an idea."
She grabbed the lube, and squatted at Rachael's feet. A minute later she was fucking the girl's big toe. "Mmm, yummy."
"Very creative!" encouraged Bob.
"It's okay," agreed Kasia, "but she's not wriggling enough."
"Let me help," offered Bob.
# [Iron Man – Black Sabbath]
Then he found a ten-inch spike, and with a metallic pounding he used a lump hammer, to drive it through the side of Rachael's foot, just below the ankle, leaving a few inches of steel on either side. Once the screams had subsided, Kasia resumed her unorthodox pleasuring.
Grabbing the spike with both hands she could pull the toe in and out of herself, making the technique much more effective.
Then she gave the spike a sudden twist, and the big girl yelped and bucked. She couldn't pull her leg away from the pain, being as she was stretched out by the cables, but her involuntary muscle spasms sent tantalizing waves rippling along her legs and body, making her tummy and breasts jiggle. Kasia moaned in pleasure, and found this set up to be very satisfactory.
Bob was transfixed by the wobbling cleavage in front of him. Soon he had straddled the woman, facing Kasia, and was tit-fucking her joyously. Every time Kasia twisted the spike, another heaving wave of jiggling pleasure enveloped his manhood. Bob didn't know where to look, and so alternated his gaze between Rachael's sensual rippling belly and Kasia's lithe thrusting form.
It wasn't long before Kasia's juices were flowing, she had been horny all day, and the novelty and excitement had been to much for her. But it still wasn't enough, she wanted to feel something deep inside her. "Bob!" she cried desperately, "I need you!"
Bob was hardly one to pass by a damsel in distress. Picking Kasia up bodily, he threw her over Rachael's stomach, so Kasia was presented to him, bent over backwards, then thrust himself deep into her wet, twitching pussy. It was a comfortable arrangement, using the big girl as a kind of moaning, pulsating pillow.
Then Emma got in on the act, taking over from Kasia in the toe-fucking and spike-twisting role, causing Rachael's heaving gasps of agony and convulsions to raise the heat for them all.
Bob was first to score, pumping his load into Kasia's ecstatic young pussy, causing her to climax in sympathy. She gripped his cock in her muscular hole, not wanting it to stop.
Bob was done. The two ladies in his life hadn't finished though, and giving each other a look of silent understanding, leapt at one another. Emma feverishly reached for her double ender, while they frantically kissed each other, and grappled at each other's breasts, caressing nipples, while straddling the poor girl below them.
Soon they were fucking deliriously, while Bob collapsed onto the couch, swigging at a beer and enjoying the show of his girls in action, and deciding how to best to avail himself of this hunk of flesh next.
Soon he was joined by the girls. They were sharing a spliff and giggling, as they perused the toys in Emma's bag. One in particular caught Kasia's attention; It was a pair of leather shorts, but the butt side of it was covered in razor-sharp inch-long spikes, "Oh these are nice!"
"They're my pointy-pants. I'll give you a demo," said Emma. Once she was wearing them, she gave a twirl. They fitted her beautfully, hugging her form with a real dungeon dominatrix vibe.
# [Slayer – Angel of Death]
Watching this, Bob was suddenly back in the mood. He contemplated the thick-lipped pussy in front of him, and got down to business, pounding into that thicc fleshy treat. Rachael wan't being very reactive though, just lying there, torpid, hoping the nightmare would end soon. In fact, it was only just starting.
Kasia watched on in delight. Emma straddled Rachael's fun bags, facing Bob, then sat down on them. Rachael screamed as the spikes first penetrated her bra, and then her tender flesh. More screams as Emma twisted her butt from side-to-side, causing the spikes to tear into those magnificent mammaries.
Rachael was squirming and convulsing like she was possessed by some demonic spirit. "Well," thought Bob, riding her like a bucking bronco, "She's helluva lot more reactive now!"
Emma moved on from twisting, to thrusting with her hips, wrecking those mammaries further. Blood was trickling down the sides of Rachaels chest. Kasia watched on, playing with herself and moaning excitedly.
Then, sensing her husband was near climax, Emma started bouncing her ass up and down on those plump cushions, first gently. Kasia watched in delight, as they squished and squashed. A little wave of blood seeped out with each bounce. Rachael was sobbing, each bounce forcing another grunt of pain. Interestingly, she was grunting from the other end too, as little rasping farts accompanied each bounce. Kasia had her hand over her face, trying not to laugh. Emma's own perfect rack was bouncing too, and Bob eagerly massaged them with his palms.
Then Emma went into top gear, lifting her whole weight, and smashing it downwards with each bounce. The bra, now hardly more than a perforated, blood soaked rag, finally gave way. Rachael's massive tits flopped about as they were being chopped into ribbons, and little chunks of fat and gore were squirting out. Bob squirted too, cumming into Rachael's meaty minge in waves.
Marital bliss was thus attained once more, but it wouldn't be the last time tonight. The couple again returned to the sofa, panting hard.
Kasia, in her teenage hornyness wanted more than her own dripping fingers. She picked up the knife-dildo and raised an eyebrow at Emma. Emma nodded. Once strapped in, Kasia paraded up and down in front of Rachael like a catwalk girl with the latest fashion accessory, then squatted down by her face and grabbed her hair. With a little tilt of her pelvis, she drew the blade down Rachael's cheek, drawing a line of blood.
# [Psycho Killer – Talking Heads]
"I'm going to slice your insides up now." She didn't have Emma's poetic way with words, but the simple blunt intent was all the more terrifying. Rachael started bucking and thrashing against her restraints, using all her considerable strength to try to break free. Kasia found this to be an extraordinary turn-on, and soon she was raping Rachael's cunt, amid shrieks of excruciating terror. Slicing in and out, slowly cutting Rachael's vaginal canal to ribbons. Bob watched as Kasia's pale ass quivered and heaved with each thrust. He so dearly wanted to plough his dick into her rear, but was a spent force. "Something to look forward to," he told himself.
Kasia was burying her head in the ruins of Rachael's chest, sucking the blood from the nipples, and grasping them tightly as if trying to mash them still further. A long shuddering orgasm swept through her, and soon she too was taking a time-out. The front of her body was sheathed in blood, and it trickled down her torso and dripped from her pussy.
The sight of Kasia's performance had given Bob his mojo back sooner than he thought possible. He looked at Rachael's destroyed pussy, and wondered what it would feel like now. Y'know, for science.
Soon he was mashing his dick in and out of her splattered minge. Lubricated with copious quantities of blood, it was hot, sticky, and sloppy. As he pounded into that pulverised maw, slurping and farting noises accompanied his endevours. It was a real delight, the sensation a nice contrast to the tight sensation of fucking her before.
It was time for the party to move onto the next level. Bob's plan had been to tear Rachael in half using the winch, but he knew that the usual result would that only an arm would be separated. But, creative as ever, he had a idea, new to science.
# [Twisted – Cosmicguts]
First the cable was slackened, allowing a little play. Then the two girls stood on the pole that separated Emma's wrists, holding it in place. Then Bob took the pole between Rachael's ankles and lifted one end, twisting Rachael's lower half. Then using all his strength, he yanked on the pole, twisting further.
There was a snap, and a popping sound as Rachael's spine gave way. Soon her bottom half was facing 180 degrees from where it had started, and her broken body was tits up and arse up at the same time. It kept trying to untwist itself, so Bob fixed a couple more cables to stabilize it. With her spine wrecked like that, Bob figured that his plan to tear her in half would work just fine, and he could rape that sweet ass while it happened. Of course Rachael was now paralysed and senseless from the waist down, and her anal sphincter had let go with a prolonged, sighing release of gas. The twisting also had the effect of squeezing her innards, and under the pressure, a thick snake of poop was slowly being squeezed out, plopping in a coil between her legs.
"Eww, party pooper!" laughed Kasia.
Bob cared not. Soon he was buggering that girl, and the whole thing was visceral paradise. He ploughed in and out of her shitty asshole without a care, his shaft soon coated in that stinking chocolate-brown goo. Each time he pulled his dick out, there was a slurping noise, and each time he returned it, there was a loud fart as the air was expelled. Kasia, already giggling from the marijuana, was overtaken by the hilarity of the effect, and was rolling on the sofa, with tears running down her cheeks.
Emma started working the long handle of the winch. Chunk-chunk-chunk. She kept pace with Bob's thrusting, heaving and forth, her sweaty fit body enjoying the work-out, as inch by inch Rachael was slowly ripped in two. Bob, following Kasia's earlier lead, grabbed at those ruined breasts, and buried his head in their mushy delights.
Though Rachael was paralysed, Bob could feel her innards shifting and squelching. Muscles, tendons and ligaments were being slowly torn apart, and Bob could feel every one as it popped. Soft warm poo was oozing past his member, bringing him to the brink.
A louder tearing noise announced that Rachael's twisted skin was being torn, and then, suddenly the cable went slack as her torso was ripped into two pieces, spilling it's contents across the floor. Bob rolled his eyes as he came for the fourth time that day.
The happy family looked down at the carnage. Rachael was still alive, even as she was effectively in two pieces. Presumably some major arteries were still connected. She was breathing in short shallow gasps, mitigating the searing pain that engulfed her. Bob looked down at her rump steaks. "I think those need tenderising a bit." He grabbed a sledge hammer and started work, smashing down on Rachael's butt as if he was breaking paving slabs. Cracks and bangs echoed around the Arena as her pelvic bones were destroyed.
# [Smack my Bitch up – The Prodigy]
The two girls joined in. Emma, with the other sledge hammer took to Rachael's bloody pyjama-covered arms. Of course, in her own sweet way, she started at the fingers, and worked her way up, breaking bone and mashing meat in the process. Rachael emitted some pathetic squealing noises, but those were soon to be terminated by Kasia, who set about work with the felling axe.
After a couple of practice swings, she soon got the hang of it, chopping at the woman's chest, opening up gaping wounds and further splitting and pulverising the already ruined tits, as ribs splintered below.
The frenzy of destruction carried on, Rachael's body shuddering with each crashing blow, until the three were out of breath. Still Rachael lived, as she slowly bled out. She could hardly breathe at all now, her shattered ribcage making each breath an agonizing gasp.
Bob took his knife, and started to expertly carve away the meat from her buttocks and thighs. Soon he had some nice looking rump steaks and hams, which he tossed into a bucket. "That'll be enough I reckon." There wasn't much else that looked edible to be fair.
"I'll let you finish her Kasia," Bob said generously. Their guest was barely conscious, and bleeding out fast. Time to end things.
The teenager had a plan to finish Rachael off in no uncertain terms. First, she took the Ripper, and after strapping it on, she straddled the woman's head, and started poking the device into her mouth and throat. Rachael started to gag reflexively at the unwelcome intrusion.
Kasia poked further, and suddenly with a gentle heave, Rachael disgorged that massive breakfast. Wave after wave of puke flooded out of her mouth and nose, and because of the length of Kasia's steel member in her mouth, she was unable to turn her head.
Kasia watched with interest as the girl started to drown. It was a pretty feeble affair. Being half paralysed and having broken ribs meant she couldn't use the full set of muscles to puke forcefully.
Then Kasia relented, and saved her from an unpleasant death by drowning, by deep throating her with the Ripper, and turning it on.
The yellowy mix of the banana shake, beans, toast and tea suddenly turned vivid red. Rachael's chest heaved as she tried to get air, but only achieved a sucking and burbling noise as she inhaled her bloodied breakfast. Kasia thrust in and out, tearing Rachael's tongue to pieces, then her esophagus and wind-pipe. Looking down, she could see a vibrating bulge in the girl's neck move as the Ripper slid in and out, tearing muscle, bone and spine.
Kasia hadn't finished. She turned around and once again thrust into Rachael's mouth, this time ripping upwards through the roof of her mouth and grinding through the skull into Rachael's brain, delighting in the soft squelchyness that that provided. Rachael's body convulsed as her eyes rolled up in her skull and blood poured from her nose. This novelty shattered Kasia with another wave of orgasms. This was definately the best party ever, she thought.
Rachael was at peace at last. Her heart was still pumping though, causing her mouth to fill with blood from her ruined neck and spill down onto the steel floor. Bob fetched the anvil, and hefting it above his head, dropped it on her chest, caving it in with a sickening crunch. An impressive fountain of blood spurted from her mouth, reaching six feet into the air before pitter-pattering back to the floor. Lungs and liver squelched out from below her mangled ribcage, adding to the pile of innards that used to be her yummy tummy.
As a final hurrah, Bob took the anvil, and let it drop onto Rachael's head, which promptly exploded, showering the three in blood and brains.
All that was left of Rachael was an abject shambles of gore, as bad as any of his machines could have mananged. The three sat and smoked and drank and talked and laughed while they surveyed the results of their work with satisfaction.
"Time to prepare dinner!" Emma said at last, as she got to her feet and grabbed the bucket. The others followed her, heading for the showers.
[Eat the Rich – Motorhead]
Nice! Can't wait to find out what the trio has in store for sweet little Miyu!
Coming up in chapter 7 - Kawaii
I haven't really started writing it yet, I'm still pondering various aspects, so it'll probably be about a week away (wild guess).
I won't give spoilers, but suffice to say I'm quite excited by prospect! IDK if you're the same anon who suggested Miyu, but it's been a great inspiration for me.
Yeah, I'm the same person. Really glad to hear that you enjoy writing a chapter about Miyu. Please do take the time you need, I'm sure it will be worth the wait!
>>15814>…and would appreciate dying in a manner that would give her some pleasure.
You've no idea how much trouble that's caused me (lol). Bob and Emma aren't really in the pleasure giving industry. But never fear I have a plan that hopefully will be agreeable to everyone (fictional and non-fictional.)
Things are coming along really well now, but it's going to be a long chapter, I had to write in some back-story and front-story for later chapters, and do a bunch of research and technical calculations (I like the machines to be vaguely plausible, even if it's not quite a how-to guide.)
Also I got distracted by the idea of doing some illustrations for it, and have dipped my toes into using Inkscape. Any pictures will be a long way off (if ever) though, so don't get too excited.
What I'm trying to say is, chapter 7 might be a while, but should be one of the best so far.
Chapter 7. Kawaii
It had been months since the snuff party. The delicious meal of non-cruelty-free meat with all the trimmings had topped it off perfectly. Emma had cooked it to succulent perfection, basting the steaks in their own juices. The crackling had been a particular favourite. There was plenty to go around, so Kasia was spared, although everyone agreed that she would have tasted even better.
For Kasia, the fun and games of that day were just a memory, albeit augmented by the obligatory videos. She had settled in well to her new life, and at first worried that it might get boring, being stuck underground all the time, but she found there was plenty to keep her busy. Apart from games, and TV, she had the run of the factory.
Bob and Emma had come good on their promises, and had converted the viewing lounge into a little self-contained apartment for her, the gothic themed boudoir tastefully decorated, with a thick black curtain over the window, and in pride of place, an elegant four-poster bed replete with crimson curtains and black canopy.
Kasia was treated like a princess, and her every want was catered to. She had asked for extra video screens, and mostly used them as windows on the world, diplaying live CCTV feed of the lush greenery outdoors to mitigate the claustrophobia of her subterranean existence. Gym equipment and a sunbed were provided too, so she could maintain her perfect body.
New rooms had been constructed below hers, to replace the facilities that were once occupied by her flat. Now she had a space of her own, and despite her captivity, felt a great sense of freedom and belonging.
Bob worked for a few hours in the factory, most days, and Kasia loved helping out as he fixed and tinkered with the machines and built new ones. Sometimes a delivery of hardware would come in; tools, lengths of steel, pieces of equipment, and one time, a large, round, galvanized steel tank.
Bob said he was making a hot-tub. At first Kasia thought this was another present for her, but then he reminded her about the outboard-motor that Dave had delivered with Rachael. It was pretty obvious what was intended, and Kasia found that prospect a lot more exciting!
Emma often brought her proper home cooked dinners straight from the farmhouse, and showered her with gifts of clothes and toys, including a pair of roller-blades. Kasia loved zooming around the factory on these, the Arena being a favourite spot for her to practice combining her skating and gymnastics skills.
She had been given all kinds of pretty outfits by Emma, as well as some leathers suitable for a dominatrix-in-training, and even her own pair of 'pointy pants', just like Emma's. She couldn't wait to try them out for real.
Her teenage sexual appetite was ferocious, and she often enjoyed threesomes. She was proud of the experience she was gaining, enjoying pleasuring Bob and Emma as much as being ravished herself. She was, after all, a sex-slave and performed that duty with earnest enthusiasm.
But mostly, she had time to think, and to fantasize. At first she had idle thoughts of trying to escape, because that's what sex-slaves locked in dungeons try to do, right? But she knew it would be hopeless. Bob and Emma owned land for miles around, and it was all covered by CCTV. And if she was caught, she was sure the consequences would be bad, maybe even terminal.
Emma enjoyed teasing her about that sometimes. telling her that if she dared try to do anything crazy, they would put her in one of the machines as punishment; but because they loved her so much, she could choose which one. A choice between being squashed to death or sliced into pieces, Kasia thought ruefully. No method of execution would be kinder than another, though they did provide fuel for her auto-erotic fantasies.
Kasia supposed too, that part of Emma still lusted after her undoing. But the feeling was mutual, and Kasia often wondered which fate would best suit Emma. Bob also joked in his best Schwarzenegger voice about what would become of his wife if they ever broke up. "Consider that a divorce." This happy frissance between the trio certainly prevented their triangular relationship from ever becoming stale.
Besides, Kasia had really grown to love them, and certainly didn't want them to get into trouble. And what would become of her if she did escape? No doubt she would have to answer all kinds of difficult questions, and be sent to some dismal government care home, waiting to be fostered or adopted by some well-meaning but overprotective family who didn't understand her at all. Or maybe she would be taken by some evil grooming gang, hooked on heroin and passed around like some filthy sex doll. Everyone knew they came for the pretty ones first.
Stockholm syndrome or not, here she was master of her domain, and it gave her a thrilling sense of power. She wished she could tell her friends in her old life.
And her enemies.
Kasia had been bullied at school, as she didn't really fit in. Many of the girls were jealous of her beauty, and she had always been a loner. Some had been kind to her, of course, but mostly she found their vacuous interests unappealing.
She had no better luck with the boys. Any remotely interesting introverts were far too timid to approach such a breathtaking beauty, lest the ground were to open up and swallow them whole, leaving her to be harassed by brain-dead jocks and chads.
But the worst had been a clique of older girls, in the year above. Kasia found herself reliving a particularly nasty experience when the gang had cornered her one day as she left school to walk home.
Zoe was the ringleader of a gang of five girls, known as the "Select Bitches." She was a year older than Kasia, a tall, skinny goth with a pale complexion and dyed black hair. She had been moved to Kasia's school a couple of years earlier, following some kind of trouble. Rumour had it that she had stabbed a girl, but officially, no-one spoke of it.
Zoe stepped out in front of Kasia, "Where d'ya think you're going gorgeous," she demanded, her face twisted in spite.
Kasia said nothing, deftly sidestepped her and kept walking.
"Oh I see, you're too good to talk to us, you snooty bitch!" Zoe said. Then she grabbed Kasia by the arm and spun her round to face her.
"Problem?" Kasia tried to play it cool, but her heart was already pounding with adrenaline.
"If you're so pretty, why don'cha have a boyfriend? Maybe you're a fucking lesbo! Give us your phone, we wanna see what tarts you're chasing."
Kasia was about to turn away, but then Zoe spat in her face, hitting her in the eye and mouth. Kasia felt a rush of blood to her head, and retaliated, forcefully pushing Zoe away. Zoe staggered back, surprised, and Kasia stepped forward, but was stopped by an arm around her neck from behind. It was Georgie, a big black girl who wouldn't look out of place in a Thug Life video. Georgie was Zoe's muscle, and had a reputation for pounding out kids who didn't toe the line.
Kasia tried to squirm free, but Georgie's grip was too strong. Kasia tried stamping on her feet but this effort only caused the big girl to strengthen her grip and lift Kasia off the ground. Kasia started feeling dizzy as Georgie tightened the choke hold.
Zoe was laughing in delight at Kasia's helplessness. "Now whatcha gonna do bitch?" The answer caught her completely by surprise, as Kasia, flexible as ever, kicked her right foot straight up into Zoe's nose, connecting with a satisfying crunch.
"Aaargh, you fucker!" cried Zoe, as she put a hand to her face to assess the damage. Discovering a bleeding nose and split lip, she launced herself at Kasia, headbutting her hard, and then Georgie twisted around and threw Kasia to the dirt. Straddling her, she started throwing punches into her face. The other girls joined in, visciously kicking and stamping on her from all angles.
Kasia tried to cover up as blows rained down on her. Kicks were hitting her in the sides of her body, others in her crotch. Though humiliating, those weren't so painful. Then she felt a hard blow to a kidney. The pain was agonizing and debilitating. She tried valiantly to kick with her legs, but then one of the girls sat on them, and started punching into her stomach. The pain and struggling soon left her breathless and exhausted. Then Zoe found her phone and stomped on it, smashing the screen.
Kasia knew she was beaten, and that if she tried to get up, there would be more of the same, or worse. She had seen a video once, of a girl who died after getting kerb-stomped by some evil piece of trash, and didn't want to be a victim of the same fate.
So she lay there, while the others taunted her, and tormented her with little kicks, just to remind her who was boss. Then with a disgusting snorting noise, Zoe hawked up a big gob of snot, and spat again. The other girls followed suit, and soon her face, clothes and hair were plastered with the disgusting slime.
"Not looking so pretty now, are we?" taunted Megan. She was a petite, once timid red-head who enjoyed manipulating others, and had found power and protection within the group.
Zoe put her boot on Kasia's vulnerable throat. "Don't ever try to fuck with us again, or we'll fucking finish you, you fucking little whore!" Blood dripped from her nose onto Kasia's uniform. Kasia had the sense to say nothing, but did get a little satisfaction from seeing her nemesis suffer.
Then the five ran, laughing, apart from Zoe, who staggered away, hunched over with her hand to her face, blood trickling between her fingers.
But that hadn't been the end of it. When Kasia arrived home, with the blood of her enemy on her clothes, her mother was none too pleased, and called the school.
So Kasia was summoned to see the head. Miss McKay was a stern, if coldly attractive woman in her late thirties. By temperment, she seemed to be from an earlier era, and had no truck with fighting, and seemingly no compassion at all towards Kasia despite the visible bruises. Behaviour that reflected badly on the school was not to be tolerated.
The incident had been caught on CCTV, and from that evidence, it appeared that Kasia had made the first move. Kasia was suspended for week, and the perpetrators had somehow got off scot-free.
It was a week of hell, as Magda bought into the story provided by the school, and made Kasia's life as miserable as possible; grounding her, and making her do all the housework, while she spent her time watching daytime TV and making hurtful comments. Her pocket money was seized too, to pay for a new phone. Maisie followed her mother's example, taunting and teasing at every opportunity.
When Kasia returned to school, none of the other kids would talk to her, mostly from fear of reprisals by the Select Bitches. She was a nobody now, an untouchable. The gang had won.
So it was, on this late August day that Kasia lay on her bed, contemplating the grievous turns of her life, mad as hell.
Her reverie was broken by a sound, coming from the factory floor. Bob was working down there, and it sounded like he was hammering something. Kasia jumped up from the bed, and went to see what he was doing. It wasn't good to dwell on the past, and maybe a chat while she helped him work with the machines would maybe take her mind off things.
With Bob and Emma being the only ones in her life, she often got a bit lonely, so any opportunity to talk was welcome.
Bob was working on the "hot-tub". He had already constructed a central column, turning the tub into a kind of moat, and was now trying to fix a wooden beam across it, as mounting point for the Mercury Seapro 225.
"Hiya gorgeous," he called when he saw her approach, "Say, hold this for me." Kasia held the end of the beam while Bob drilled some holes.
"Bob," Kasia asked, "When we see Dave again, could I talk to him?"
Bob laughed, "What's this? You want him to take you away again?"
"I never get to chat to anyone but you and Emma, I just want to talk to someone else for a change."
"Dave's not really the type for conversation, darling. But I guess there's no harm in it. Sure."
Satisfied, Kasia changed the subject. "I can't wait to try this hot-tub out."
"Well," joked Bob, "It would quite a short try-out, and then we'd have no-one to clean it up afterwards."
Kasia gave Bob a hug. "You know what I mean! Anyways, I think it should have a water slide."
Bob raised an eyebrow and sighed. "A water slide? You think I haven't got enough work to do already?"
"But it would be nice."
Bob had to agree that it would be the cherry on the cake. Later Kasia enjoyed something of a catharsis to her earlier ruminations, as Bob fucked her on the four-poster while she imagined Zoe riding down a waterslide. Splashes and screams.
Kasia didn't have to wait long before she got to see Dave. One sultry evening his van arrived, and she watched on CCTV as Bob and Emma joined him.
At the van, Dave opened the back. "Very special delivery for you today mate."
"Damn, Dave," said Bob, forgetting himself for a moment, "Where'd ya get that?!" Inside was what appeared to be a Japanese schoolgirl in traditional blue and white uniform, tied up and gagged.
Dave looked at him levelly. Bob had broken the rule. No questions asked. Then levity returned, and he grinned, "Japan of course! where did ya think?"
But then Bob was in for another surprise, as Emma spoke up. "Bob, there's two!"
She was right, in the dim interior, Bob hadn't noticed as second girl, dressed the same as the first, as they lay together.
As the girls were dragged from the van, Bob turned to Dave. "You in a big hurry? time for a cuppa?"
"Sure, I can stick around for a bit."
Bob and Emma hauled one girl each, down the stairs into the dungeon, and Dave followed them as far as the tool store. He never went down into the factory itself. He didn't know what went on down there and he didn't want to know, although of course he had his suspicions. He was in it solely for the money, and this game paid very well.
A couple of minutes later, Bob and Emma returned with Kasia in tow.
"What's this about?" Dave asked. He actually seemed a little shocked and unnerved by Kasia's presence.
"I don't know," Bob answered honestly, "she wants to have a chat. Let's head for the house."
"I didn't hurt her, I make sure goods are delivered in perfect condition, you know that," Dave replied defensively.
Kasia gave him one of her devastating smiles, and so reassured, he and the family headed down the stony track to the farmhouse.
It was a refreshing treat for Kasia to be out in the fresh air, the first time for months, and the feeling of the late summer breeze on her face filled her with joy. En route, Bob filled Dave in on the new arrangement that the family had forged, with Kasia now being their daughter, cleaner and sex-slave.
Dave shook his head in disbelief, "You guys are fucking weird."
The four sat around the kitchen table. The three adults engaged in some pleasant chit-chat; discussing the weather, business and world events, without disclosing any sensitive information.
Then, during a lull in the conversation, Kasia seized the moment. "Dave…"
"…Can you um, - you know - deliver custom orders?"
Neither Bob nor Emma were ready for this, and Bob raised a hand to close down the conversation, but Dave was already answering this seemingly hypothetical question. "Well it's like this - it's possible, but tricky. The whole enterprise needs a lot more setup than just getting randoms. But yeah, it's possible."
"I've got a list."
Bob and Emma burst out laughing. "Ha! The kid's got a hit list!" Bob wheezed, with tears in his eyes. "She thinks she's in the Mob!" The grown ups fell about chortling.
"I'm serious!" Kasia said defensively. Annoyed but undeterred, she launched into her story about her encounter with the Select Bitches. As the story unfolded, the three adults exchanged serious looks, and by the end they were suitably sobered.
"You should have told us about this earlier, sweetness," Bob said kindly.
Should she have mentioned it when they were raping her, she wondered, or when they were snuffing her family?
She shrugged, "Didn't find a good time to bring it up."
She passed the list to Dave. It had the names, the school, and some other information that she thought might be useful. "If you can get one of these, that would be amazing. Especially Zoe."
Dave turned to Bob. "Can't make any promises. And it'll cost double, like I say, it's a lot of extra work." Terms were negotiated, and then they all trudged back to the barn. Dave climbed into his van, and they exchanged goodbyes.
Emma looked at Kasia, "Time to get back to your cage, with the rats, slave," she ordered.
Dave's genuine look of horror caught Kasia's eye. "It's a very nice cage," she reassured him. Dave smiled and nodded in understanding. He put the van in gear, and left the strange family to their peculiar business, as the family returned to their dungeon.
The two girls were sitting next to each other on the bed, holding hands with their fingers entwined. Their skimpy outfits, loosely based on traditional Japanese school girl uniform, and their fine Japanesque features and jet black twin-tails, made them look like something straight out of a manga.
In that typically modest Japanese fashion, they were sitting correctly, with their knees together. Bob found the way that this pose accentuated their girly innocence quite alluring. But what struck him most, was that they appeared to be absolutely identical, each a mirror image of the other. The only visible difference was their lipstick, one's lips were a lush cerise, the other's a fetching peach.
"Well," said Bob, desiring to sate his curiosity, "there's got to be some kind of story here!"
The girls were silent. Bowed heads looked down at dainty feet.
"Never mind, I'm sure we'll find out in due course. It's getting late, let's get them processed. Looks like another day at the fun-fair tomorrow."
Kasia too, was intrigued. These girls seemed to be close to her own age, but there was something a little odd about them that piqued her interest. And her chat with Dave had put her in the mood for more conversation. "Are you identical twins?" The girls nodded, as one. For some reason, this made Kasia feel horny, even though she didn't understand why.
It's true that they were super pretty, with refined oval faces, thick eyelashes accentuating big brown eyes, and a little rouge applied to the cheeks which showed off their delicate features perfectly. Their innocent, slightly open mouths were framed by seductively full, glossy painted lips, with cute dimples at the corners. Their ears peeked out from their hairlines, giving them an almost elven look. Kasia thought they might even be prettier than she was, but consoled herself knowing that this problem would soon be taken care of.
"Well I bet it'll be double the fun!" exclaimed Emma.
Bob raised the ante. "Fun squared!" he declared.
Kasia trumped them both, "two to the power of fun!" Either the girls weren't really into bad math jokes, or were just very shy, and didn't react.
But they didn't seem very afraid of their situation, even though they had unwittingly stumbled into the darkest part of the wrong forest. They exuded the kind of vulnerability that would only serve to provoke the worst attentions of the Big Bad Wolf, and if anyone was to play that part, it was undoubtedly Emma.
She was hungrily showing her teeth in a lupine grin. "Very kawaii! What shall we do with them Bob?" The unique possibilities that the twins offered was clearly starting to bring out her crazy side as her mind whirled with every indelicacy that might be inflicted on these tender morsels.
Bob had seen that ravenous look on Emma's face enough times to know what she was thinking. "Let's get them processed first," he said, "We'll have all the time in the world to decide later." Then he turned to the twins, "Hopefully you flowers have different names, or things are going to get mighty confusing around here."
"Miyu," said cerise-lips.
"Miku," said peachy, "Sometimes people call us the Mikumiyu twins. We don't really mind." Emma found their soft breathy voices a real turn-on, and wondered what their screams would sound like.
Since they twins were identical, processing took half the usual time. They were photographed as a pair, and only one of them needed to be measured and weighed. Once stripped, their true glory was revealed.
The twins stood nervously, while their captors salivated over their latest catch. It's often wrongly assumed that oriental types have darker skin, but these two were the perfect exception to that truism, having a pale, pearly white complexion that seemed almost translucent, even compared to Kasia's sun-starved limbs.
Bob's eye was drawn from their sensual, demure faces to delicate necks. He imagined how easy it would be to get a hand around one, and the prospect gave him a boner. Their torsos were slim and girly, with sweet little budding breasts and appetizing tummies. Unlike Kasia's toned body, these girls had a softer form, smooth skin and just a little feminine fat making the muscle below barely discernable. They had narrow waists, and nicely developing hips, with curly little patches of dark hair starting to sprout above their adorably fuckable pussies.
The four legs were another treat, exquisitely smooth and refined, with inviting thigh-gaps, leading down to precious, petite feet.
Unlike some oriental girls, who have flat backsides, these two displayed a quite nicely rounded feminine form. Bob scratched his beard, "Well you're both very special. Are you really Japanese, or just cosplaying?"
"Half Japanese," the twins said together. Then Miyu added, "We're cosplaying too. We were at the KawAnimaiiCon. Then we woke up in a van."
As they were putting on their pyjamas, Kasia had a brave idea, and spoke up. "Maybe they can stay with me tonight. I'm sure they won't be any trouble. It'll be like a sleep-over."
Bob and Emma exchanged a concerned look, as good parents should. Bob turned to Kasia, "What if they do cause trouble. D'ya think you can handle it?"
"Sure. I'll make necessary preparations," Kasia replied with professional coolness, "I can deal with them both, if necessary."
Emma laughed at Kasia's laconic hit-man rhetoric. "Blimey, maybe she is in the Mob!"
"Okay," said Bob. Maybe it was time for Kasia to excercise her independence and demonstrate a little responsibility. "If there's any trouble though, or any 'goods' get damaged, you'll be in hot water." Kasia instantly thought of the hot-tub and wondered for a second if that's what Bob meant.
"I'll go get ready now," Kasia said, and left Bob and Emma to finish up.
Miyu (13) 1.45m 43kg
A few minutes later, Kasia was back, wearing her ninja outfit, replete with tool belt holding a knife, handcuffs, baton and other necessities. She loved dressing up for the part, and had completed the look with dark rose lipstick, a studded choker, a black skull-printed bandana and high boots.
The expression on the twins' faces was priceless. "Ohmigod," whispered Miyu to her sister, "this is just like being in one of those guro mangas."
Emma had overheard the comment. "Really? Guro at your age?" She laughed, "Well, you'll enjoy your darkest fantasies here. It'll be a dream come true!"
The twins said nothing, but Miku squeezed her sister's hand a little more tightly. Kasia wondered if they were quite as innocent as they looked.
As usual, the check-in had left Bob and Emma feeling lustful, but they respected Kasia's wish for a little freedom, so they retired to the farmhouse for an anime inspired fuckfest, leaving the three girls alone. Precautions were taken of course, the power to the factory was off, apart from the lights, and all exits were sealed. And from time to time, they checked the CCTV. Trust but verify.
"I'll show you around," said Kasia, "If you like guro, you'll love this place!"
"Wait!" said Miyu, "are you guys going to snuff us?"
"Maybe," Kasia lied carefully, "If you're good, Bob and Emma might keep you as sex slaves, like they did with me. It's super fun to be honest. Maybe they'll keep you cos you like guro." She didn't mind them being a little scared, but if they got desperate, things could get difficult.
Miku continued her sister's train of thought. "Umm… it's just that if you do, we'd like to go together. It's our fantasy."
"Well it's not really my decision. I think it's Emma's turn. She might want to keep you." More lies, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. If they knew Emma's predilections, they might have a change of heart and try something crazy.
Kasia abruptly changed the topic. "I got pizzas. Hungry?" The pair nodded, so they trooped upstairs to Kasia's apartment.
"Wow this place is amazing!" Miyu declared, as she took in the comfortable refinments of Kasia's room.
"I'll get the pizzas going. Make yourselves comfortable. Mi casa es su casa," Kasia said generously. She thought it sounded cool, and was starting to enjoy herself. Soon they were feasting on pizzas and drinking lemonade. "Look girls" Kasia said, waving a bottle of Blue Label, I got some vodka for that fizzy." She poured a couple of shots into each glass.
"We're not old enough to drink," said Miku.
"Well you're not old enough for a lot of things, are you?" replied Kasia. "Besides, rules don't count down here. I got weed too, if you wanna try." Soon the twins were coughing and spluttering, passing the joint. It made them feel quite grown up, as if they had been inducted into a frat by their older sister.
The twins were getting nicely relaxed, and soon the trio were chatting as if they were all besties. "I know you're identical," asked Kasia, "but are you - y'know - like, the same?"
"Nope," Mikumiyu replied in unison, causing them to all laugh at the irony.
"Miyu talks more, and I think more," explained Miku.
Kasia discovered that they had been a centre of attention at the KawAnimaiiCon, their breathtaking cuteness and unique twinsyness combining to raise the kawaii bar to new heights. Loads of people had photo-bombed and taken selfies with them. But they could remember nothing after getting in the taxi to return to the train station.
Then the convo turned to guro. They compared their favourite artists and talked about some real life stuff they had seen on the less respectable websites. Some of it was an education for Kasia. The twins were real fans, whereas by happenstance, she had been thrust into it only months earlier, and was still a relative newbie.
"Well this is a real-life guro dungeon," Kasia pointed out, "You wanna have a look round?"
Soon they were on the factory floor, examining the machines. "And don't even think of trying to run off," Kasia warned them, as she flashed her blade, "there's no escape, and I'll hunt you down like rabbits." She noticed a gleam of excitement flash in Mikumiyu's four eyes, and wondered if they'd actually enjoy playing that game.
Kasia showed them around, authoritatively explaining the gruesome effects of each device's operation. They stopped by the Roller, and Kasia told them the story of Maisie.
Miyu's eyes were wide in horror and excitement. "She was dead, and then came back?"
Then they were at the Masher. Kasia said nothing, and just let the girls take in its awesomeness. Its operation was obvious just from looking at it.
"God that's scary," whispered Miku at last. "And amazing," added Miyu, "just imagine…"
"Anyways, if ever, I don't think you girls will get a ride in that," explained Kasia, "We haven't even tried a lot of the machines yet, so probably you'll get something else." She laughed, as they walked on. "Maybe this one, although I don't think it's quite finished yet." They had arrived at the hot-tub. "I'm helping Bob build it. Just imagine what that would make of you."
"Soup," said Miku simply.
Kasia completed the tour, showing them the Chopper, various presses, the Cone of Destruction, and all the other devilish contraptions. They even had a look into the Arena. "Mostly I just use it for skating and gymnastics," she laughed.
"These are way better than the stuff in normal guros," Miyu said, her eyes shining, "Mostly it's just boring snuff like hanging. Why does everyone do hanging? It's sooo boring, just kicking and weeing."
"And beheading," added Miku. "Why spoil the fun so soon? One minute you're there, then CHOP and it's all over."
Kasia, although she could see the attractions of those methods of dispatch, had to admit the girls had a point. They seemed to be on her own wavelength, so she thought she'd probe a little deeper into their dark souls. "You wanna watch a video?" she asked innocently.
"Sure, whatcha got?" asked Miyu. Mikumiyu were a little high and tipsy, and seemed game for anything.
"Well, it's not Sponge Bob. We can watch it together in bed," suggested Kasia. "Let's go back upstairs." Soon, they were back in the flat.
It's nothing you'll have seen before," said Kasia as she stepped over to the computer. That, of course was an understatement. After a few clicks, got the video of Tara the Tart cued up. "This one's called 'Tara 2', I dunno if you'll like it." Kasia had picked this one out, because it was the most vanilla, milquetoast video she had, and she wanted to break the girls in slowly in case they freaked out.
"I suggest you girls get snuggled up in bed," Kasia suggested, "I'll be with you soon, I'm gonna fix us some snacks before we settle down to watch."
Kasia busied herself in the kitchen, taking her time. She need a moment to think clearly away from these kids. Was she doing the right thing? Was it safe? She wanted to have fun, but didn't want to take any chances. She made more pizza, and poured more drinks. She could hear the twins laughing in the other room.
When she returned with the comestibles, she discovered they were hiding under the king-size duvet, squealing and giggling. She cautiously pulled back the cover, and was genuinely shocked to discover that they were naked and scissoring each other frantically. Miyu looked up at her, and said simply, "Sorry, we were so horny we couldn't wait."
This made up Kasia's mind for her. She stripped off, and as she opened the bottom drawer of her bedside unit to safely lock away the weapons, she found her stash of toys. She threw those onto the bed, locked the weaponry away and ran to the kitchen to hide the key. Then she jumped into bed with the others to join the fun.
Soon the three were in a frenzy of fingers and tongues. Kasia loved the way she had enough strength to dominate the twins, first fucking Miku with a double ended vibrator, and then Miyu. Each time the other sister would join in, Miyu grinding against Kasia's leg, and Miku putting herself between them, creating a nubile pile of writhing bodies. Miyu even seemed to enjoy it when Kasia took both her hands and squeezed her throat until she saw stars. Even though this threesome seemed like innocent fun, Kasia was imagining that the vibrator was the Ripper, and that the breathy squeals of delight were shrieks of agony.
After a while, the three had exhausted their passion, and lay back on the pillows, a sweating, panting tangle of teenage flesh, skinny limbs, hair, and smudged lipstick.
Kasia extricated herself from the embrace, and went to make coffee, and another J. She didn't know if the youngsters drank coffee, but she figured it was a good time for them to start. Having the right balance of soft drugs in your system could be nothing but a plus.
Then, once back in bed, sitting between the sisters, she clicked the remote and the video started playing on the big screen. There was no music, or fancy production, but Bob had made a nice "editor's cut" of all the best angles and moments, presented raw and unvarnished.
The black screen gave way to the title "Tara 2" then to a sequence of pictures of the girl that Bob and Emma had taken during the processing, overlaid with some text:
Tara (22) 32B 22 30 1.65m 50kg
The girl was somewhat pretty, although nothing special, with short dirty-blonde hair, an averagely attractive face, with a straight nose and thin lips. A slinky body sporting skinny ribs and a flat, untoned stomach led down a landing strip to a juicy twat, narrow hips, and spindly bruised legs.
Then the video proper began. A camera was focused on the woman's face. This time it was covered in dark bruises, had a bloody nose and a deep cut on one cheek. Twisted in pain and torment, the girl was yelling angrily. "Give me my fix you bastards! Give it to me! You promised!" Her voice rang out clearly from the powerful Dolby 5.1 setup.
"What's that about?" asked Miku naively.
Kasia paused the video to explain. "She a junkie, a heroin addict, and she hasn't had her fix. Now she's gone crazy, cold turkey. Bob says it's terrible, worse than pain, and it makes you feel real pain even worse too. And it makes you poop when you stop, cos it stops you pooping when you take it."
The video resumed. The picture zoomed out to reveal the girl's body. It was bloody and battered, covered with nasty, deep looking puncture wounds, and more multi-coloured bruises. The insides of her thighs were stained yellow with diarrhoea, the result of numerous uncontrolled accidents.
"Eww," said Miyu.
"Please, I'll do anything!" The whore cried, "Just one fix!"
The camera zoomed out further, exposing her predicament. She was suspended by a rope from her bound wrists, and below her was the sort of industrial shredder they use to grind up animal carcasses before they render them into fertilizer. There was a sudden zap and hum of electricity, and the shredder rumbled into motion.
"Ohmigod" Mikumiyu said together.
Kasia hit pause again. Maybe it really was too much for these kids. "You want me to stop?"
"Nooo, it looks yummy," protested Miyu. She reached across Kasia, and started fingering Miku. It seemed almost like an automatic reaction. Kasia grabbed her hand and thrust Miyu's fingers into her own wet crack instead. Miku followed suit, and soon Kasia was getting doubly stimulated. The twins, although surely inexperienced, had shared intimate knowledge of each other's pleasures, and bought that know-how to bear on Kasia, kneading her clitoris with thumbs, and massaging her lips with fingers.
Kasia gasped, hit 'play', then returned the favours, probing into the excited twins as the video resumed. Now there were no more interruptions, only occasional breathy squeals and groans, as the twins watched, transfixed in delighted horror.
The scene cut to another camera, this one zoomed in on the shredder blades. It was a two-shaft shredder, with numerous inch-wide edges that meshed and unmeshed with each other in a rippling dance of glittering, hungry steel.
A voice called out, sounding a little distant over the noise of the machine. "Here's your fix, bitch." Typical Emma, Kasia thought, always with the snappy one-liners.
The scene cut again to a higher angle, showing Tara's tormented face above, and her feet dangling above the slowly rotating blades below. Then came a clunk-clunk-clunk of moving chains, and Tara slowly descended, ready to feed the beast.
Soon her toes were only inches from destruction. She brought her knees up against her chest, keeping her feet out of harm's way, but it wasn't a pose she could hold for long, and in any case, it was completely futile.
"Nooooo!!" she screamed, "Pleeease!" She tried another tack, this time bending her legs at the knees, so her feet were almost touching her butt. But soon, those knees were in the danger zone. She was desperately wriggling now, like a fish hooked on a line, and the movement sent her swinging back and forth. She tried kicking out with one leg, trying to hook onto the edge of the shredder in a vain attempt to save herself from a fate worse than, but including, death.
But it was too late. A moment later, her left knee was caught by the edge of one of the rotors, and as it smashed her kneecap, the reaction momentarily knocked her backwards, and for a moment she swung free again.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" she cried out, as the pain brought home the reality of her impending fate. Unable to control her damaged limb, her lower leg dropped onto the far rotor, and moments later was dragged into the cleft where the blades meshed. An ear-splitting shriek overlaid a series of short snaps and crunches as the thick blades chewed along it, toes first, chopping and crushing the calf muscle and bone into strips of grisly meat, before returning to mash the pieces further into an unrecognizable bloody pulp.
Soon it had reached her knee once again, but this time the blades had a proper grip, and quickly pulled her leg down into its greedy maw. As it started to munch on her left thigh, the femur splintered open and blood and chunks of dark bone marrow flew through the air.
Tara could no longer keep her right leg out of harms way, and that too dropped into the pit, and was soon mangled and chopped into mincemeat. Blood pumped out as it was destroyed, soaking everything in its vivid sauce. As each blade edge brutally tore into her flesh, she danced with the Devil, rhythmically jerking and twisting on the rope to the drumming beat of the rotors below.
The winch was lowering her quicker now, and she was desperately trying to pull herself up with her arms. Her anal sphincter let go for the last time, and with a flatulent rip, she sharted a gush of watery filth that spattered from her arse and spewed down into the whirling pit of gore below.
The girls looked on with rising excitement, which was enhanced considerably by the stellar sound quality, as each thudding crunch, and each squelch and splinter boomed louder than life from the speakers. Oh, and the dreadful screams. They were a continual backdrop to the soundscape, rising higher and higher to match the escalating levels of carnage being wreaked upon Tara's helpless flesh.
Now the blades had reached her nether regions, and the girls were dizzy at the prospect. A split screen was presented, a close ups of the action from front and rear. The twin rows of blades simultaneously tore into her filthy cunt and ass.
The girls were agog as they watched her minge get destroyed, blades effortlessly slicing into her soft, sensitive lady-garden. Her skinny ass was feasted on from behind, relinquishing its meats with tearing and scraping sounds as metal separated muscle from bone. Then a series of shuddering thuds and bangs announced that Tara's pelvis was being shattered into fragments, as she fell deeper and deeper into the insatiable churning pit of oblivion.
As the machine munched through her belly fat, and tore away shredded skin, she was eviscerated, and pinky grey intestines tumbled wetly into the morass below. These became entanged with the rotors, wrapping around the shafts before being sliced into revolting hoops of calamari. Those too, were then inevitably chewed into mush as their putrid contents squirted out in arcs, splattering the camera.
Yet another angle, this time from below the shredder, and the girls watched little pieces of Tara fall from the blades above, as blood, flesh and bone cascaded down onto a growing heap of her remains.
The wave of viscera had momentarily overwhelmed the capactiy of the rotors, and for a moment, Tara's chest floated on a bloody sea of churning gore. The sloppy squelches of her innards being consumed gave way to more pops and cracks, as her ribcage and vital organs were pulled deeper.
Her skinny ribcage was folded and smashed into little pieces, and major organs became just another course of the grinder's lunch. The girls watched enraptured as her jiggling B-cup breasts were sliced into ribbons before being mashed into unrecognizable lumps of fatty tissue. As her heart was diced, Tara's mouth slackly fell open, and a trickle of blood dribbled down her chin. She had at last gotten her fix.
Her head was now being pulled from below by her spinal column, and as it entered the crushing zone, it snapped backwards. Her jaw was torn off, revealing her flailing tongue. Skin was dragged from her skull, and then it too was crushed and shattered with prolonged sickening series of wet crunches, as brain squidged out and eyeballs were popped and minced.
Her thin, bruised arms were quickly dispensed with too, with a satisfying chunk-chunk-chunk sound, then the rope itself frayed and snapped. The last remnants of gore slowly rotated, then they too were obliterated, leaving the machine hungry for its next victim.
The screen faded to black. The twins looked at each other, their cute lips parted in awe.
Wow, that's really good. Love the scenario with the twins, their personalities and appearance. Great job! I'm really looking forward to reading the continuation!
… Which might be a while, I'm going away for a couple of weeks and I'll most likely not have any internet access at all. So if you post the next part in the meantime and don't get a reaction from me don't worry, I'll be looking forward to reading it the whole time I'm away!
I'm the one who requested Miyu (and by consequence Miku), by the way. I'll be signing with my nick from now on to avoid confusion.
Glad you liked it. Yeah, I decided to split the Mikumiyu episode into 2 (or more chapters).
Chapter 8 is well underway, but I still haven't really decided what to do with them. I've got a few ideas, but it's so hard to choose :)
If you've any suggestions, I'm all ears.
Hmm, there are indeed a LOT of possibilities here. I don't have a specific method in mind, but I would love to see the twins handled a bit more "delicately". Sure, the trio will rape and abuse them, but the deaths we have seen so far have been focused a lot on crushing, stretching and other messy stuff. Perhaps you could explore their beautiful bodies, split a belly open, see what their little boobies are made of etc. I see this working well with the twins to some extent being into it themselves. Having your bones crushed would cause too much trauma to be intriguing or erotic. It must however be a surreal feeling seeing your intestines, bladder or ovaries being cut out of your own body while you're still alive.
It's a bit vague I know, but I hope you can take away some ideas from it. It is your story after all, so do what you like best. But at least you have my take on what I think would fit with the story, setting and characters. Good luck with the writing!
Squunch sat forlornly in his mother's basement, and pondered the injustices of life, his head whirling with a seething sense of betrayal. Deep down, he knew that it was his own fault, after all he had
asked for suggestions, like some retarded newbie, and his biggest fan had kindly obliged.
True, it had been just a few, fleeting exchanges, in some dark corner of the interwebs, but he had thought he had found a real soul-mate; finally had a meeting-of-minds with someone who truly understood his passion. The guy had even provided great suggestions for characters, and had showered his perverted, self-indulgent scribblings with praise.
Squunch brushed the Cheeto dust from his blim-burn riddled Batman T-shirt, heaved his 300 pound frame onto its flat feet, and started to pace up and down, fueled by adrenaline.
"AND THEN HE COMES AT ME WITH THIS NORMIE SHIT!" he yelled at Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob sat on the shelf in quiet agreement. Didn't this soy-boy understand that it was a splatter
story? All the other girls had met the most messy, gruesome deaths that Squunch could conjure up. And now this Loke character wanted him to debase the whole premise, and treat the twins "delicately," and "see what their boobies are made of." Everyone who had read the Masher episode knew what they were made of. Gore
. What the hell did he think this was? Sesame Street?
There is no retribution to be levied against online randoms. As Squunch's rage boiled over he realised there was only one option left to maintain his artistic integrity. He must unleash the full fury of his vengeance on Loke's beloved, precious, squishy-crunchy
I mean, a vivisection could be especially messy and fits in nicely with the twin's specific fetishes. One this I think is important for the twins however is the difference between their fantasies and the reality of the situation. Killing them together feels like a waste. The change from happily accepting their fate to realizing the horrors laid out before them as one is flayed alive; screaming and crying at her tormentors to end it while her twin helplessly looks on in horror and shock. Fear, pain, begging and pleading with her twin's killers the other could ask about the possibility to become a sex slave; to replace their current, older one. Anything to save her life and keep her from the same fate the befell her twin only to receive a fate even worse.
I think it could work. But then again, I'm more of a victim in my own fantasies so I tend to enjoy the idea of having my fantasy cruelly brushed aside by the weight of reality. Really makes me wet.
Oh, and uh sorry that I hardly post much. Been reading from the start but I'm more of a silent viewer, content to just see where things go. Love your work but I had to say something after that hilarious previous post.
To be fair, you both make good points, it's just that the vivisection stuff leaves me cold. I'm not sure why, cos logically, there doesn't seem to be much difference between that and the stuff that I do
For instance, I have over 600 images in my 'squish' folder, (you can find much of it on /g/ ) but not a single vivisection. So I just don't think I could find the enthusiasm for it tbh.
However, Sol, I do like your idea of torturing one twin while the other gets cold feet about the whole thing, I'll almost certainly do something like that. I do think I should add more perspectives from the victims POV in future too.
Finally, I would just add that the stars of this story are really meant to be the machines, and the splatter. I just like to add a bit of plot to create some tension, and tease my readers a little. I'm still finding my feet with this whole writing thing, and with hindsight, I would no doubt do some things differently.
Ha! I spent about 2 hours on that post. It came from the heart!
BTW, I would love it if you'd suggest a character to be snuffed. When Loke suggested Miyu, the constraints he offered really helped get the creative juices going.
Some of the other points, and ideas you guys raise, I'll reference in the story itself (in the dialogue), That way I can address them, get some more interesting dialogue, and not reveal any spoilers here. I'm gonna take a few days off from this story, while I consider it's trajectory. Also I started work on an idea for a kid's book - needless to say that won't be posted here lol.
Well, if you'd like a suggestion then I'll just go for broke here. A small girl, possibly young adult with an athletic frame, next to no breasts, red hair, green eyes and pale white skin.
I'll leave anything else to you, but I think you might be able to put two and two together on this one.
Well I might come up with 5, if I read too much into what you're saying. But Expect to see your character in the next few chapters. (not sure when, yet). If you've any aspects of her character / interests / personality you'd like to share, that would be helpful too!
Well, I don't want to describe too much about this hypothetical girl lest I just ask you to put me into the story. But a few more things might not hurt. As I said in my suggestion for the twins she might be a willing participant in the events; even going so far as to egg on her would be rapists to hurt her or choke her during the rape because of some masochistic tendencies. Of course, she'd quickly change her turn once things too a step too far, although she might have secretly been hoping for them to take it a step too far all along until it actually happens.
Think a Dom that is actually a Sub; some one who might try and take control hoping they get overthrown violently.
Tappity-tappity-tap. Squunch's fingers danced on the keys, like an artistically insane virtuoso, words flowing from lurid recesses of his tormented soul, reverberating around his mother's boyfriends's basement in the hollowed-out volcano. His antique Imperial typewriter delighted in the pounding it received, periodically exclaiming an orgasmic "Kerchiiiing!" as it revelled in the magnificence of the prose. It was a fine old machine, despite the continual Adobe update reminders, and Squunch saw no reason to upgrade.
Ah yes, machines. Shortly Miyu's delicious destruction would be complete, and Squunch's three fans would be delighted. Or appalled. He no longer cared; Miyu's screams would haunt Loke forever. Besides, if God hadn't intended half-Japanese girls to be splattered, why did he make them so crunchy and squishy?
Then he would start work on Sol's intriguing character. Bob and Emma would surely love to snuff a real girl for a change, instead of Squunch's all-too predictable fictions. She had written herself into the story, whilst coquettishly pretending not; toying, flirting with Squunch as she wrestled with her own dark auto-erotic fantasies - what would people think if they knew? Well, he would give her everything she lusted for, and more. Tappity-tappity-tap "MWUHAHAHAAA!" tappity-tappity-tap.
That was hilarious! Now I can't wait to read the next chapter. I'm sure it will be worth the wait, and somehow the thought of the twins getting treated even more brutally than I imagined is a huge turn-on.
I even got inspired to write another story of my own, which I'll post on this board soon.
Sorry it's a bit delayed. I kinda got stuck on what to do with the twins, and decided to take a bit of time away from it. I've written some stuff I like for chapter 8, but I might start again. I've got a few ideas though, and I'll be getting it out there soonish.
Looking forward to reading your own story!
Wow! I don't know how long you've been in my head but it must have been quite a while… You have managed in your writing to hit pretty much all my buttons. Excellent writing btw… you have talent. I can't wait for the next installment!
You're welcome!I've re-read your stories a couple times to "great satisfaction". I have a big fantasy involving the roller squishing of a victim…I perhaps take it a bit further ala Maisie and have myself sitting on the victim's face. as the roller progresses I receive an enema of stomach contents and then blood and then intestines…
Yes I agree that would be super! I really like that kind of "interactive" stuff too, and I do have some plans for that kind of thing. I might even use your exact suggestion tbh, sounds like a lot of fun.
I have a real fetish for the whole "tube of toothpaste" squeezing thing… eyes popping and guts spurting…
Funnily enough, Bob has a (so far unmentioned) machine in the factory called "The Toothpaste Tube", so I'm sure that will meet with your approval. Ah, so many machines, so few girls…
not part of your story line perhaps… but… a future where people are executed for the smallest crimes…The typical execution method is having your legs spiked to the asphalt and have a steamroller slowly run over the body
I am really looking forward to the"tooth paste tube"… I gather from your other works it'll be pretty nasty
They actually do that in North Korea (well I dunno about the spikes). Anyway I can see there'll be plenty to keep you happy in the forthcoming chapters. I do think from time to time about the next story, a future distopia is one option for sure. I haven't really decided yet. The current story should be good for a while, I'm planning it to be more-or-less a crescendo of gore, so if you (or anyone else) wants to suggest characters, there's always room for one more. The more detail you can provide, the better, as far as I'm concerned.
I love your level of gore… Over the top… I have some working scenarios… I'll work on articulating them
I can't make any promises regarding scenario suggestions. (although if they meet with my own tastes, I might use them). But character descriptions are always welcome.
I mean, by all means suggest things, but just be prepared that I might just say "Nah." OTOH I'm not fussy about characters, as long as they're cute(ish) and female. And squishy and crunchy.
Another fantasy… Keep a couple of girls as meat and leather… feed off their leg and arm meat and tan their supple skin
Two kids… based on nobody that I know, Christi is 12… she is sexually active and very horny. Her younger sister Amy is 8 years old and very precocious.Christi has the most beautiful puffy nipples and just a whisp of pubic hair. Amy is of course flat chested and has a hairless little peach…
I love your writing and I probably shoudn't suggest anything…It's good as it is…I'm looking forward to the next bit
Christi and Amy sound cute. I'll fit them into a later chapter. Any more details about them? Clothes, style, hobbies, skinny/ chubby, etc.
I find the more info I have, the better the characters come to life, that's been my experience with Miyu/Miku and Sol's forthcoming character anyway.
Christi is tall for her age and quite slim. She has dark brown hair down to her mid back. She has small puffy breasts and barley a whisp of hair on her vulva.
Her little sister Amy is what would be called precocious…she would sit on my lap and when my penis got hard, she would squrim down on it and look up at me and smile
Amy Is small…barley more than a metre or so… short brown hair down to her shoulders. She has an absolutely beautiful little butt which she loves to show off. She's also happy to flash chest or cute little pussy
Christi has something of a punk vibe… or is at least trying too… she shaved the right side of her head and dyed it blue… pretty cute….