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Three Little Bitches Beheaded

by Azalel


Tyra Fastenne, Renee Dupois, and Kelly Green sat in the waiting room. The other hopefuls had already left the studio. The three preteens sat waiting while the producers talked to the mothers of the three little actresses.

"Would you three like anything to drink," the receptionist asked.

Tyra looked up at the woman. Bernadette Andrews was likely the last person one would expect to work for Child Bondage Studios. She was stunningly beautiful, had a quick easy smile that put everyone at ease, and really cared about the comfort of her employers' guests.

"Do you have soda," the blonde 10-year-old asked.

"I sure do," Bernadette replied. "I have orange, cola, root beer, ginger ale, and grape sodas. What would you like?"

"I'll have a cola," Tyra said with a smile.

The other two preteens, emboldened by Tyra's success, also requested a soda. Renee went with a ginger ale and Kelly went with a root beer.

"I'll be right back," the woman said as she went to retrieve the drinks her young guests requested.


Leanne Fastenne was not pleased. She had expected her Tyra to be the only actress selected. Leanne did not like that anyone would be sharing the spotlight with her daughter. As the producers conferred amongst themselves, she looked at the other two mothers.

Monique Dupois was a large black woman who was new to the child bondage scene. From what she knew of the picture being planned, it was expected to be a smash hit. It was a surprise that this woman's daughter was picked to be in it. Leanne had seen Carol and Danii Naylor in the waiting room and surely, Danii would have been a better choice.

Looking at the other woman, Leanne's confusion lingered. Lauraine Green was pretty, but slender to the point of being emaciated. Her daughter was a little more solid, but not much. The one thing this woman's daughter had going for her was the red hair. It was very uncommon to see a redhead in these films.

Looking back at Monique, Leanne had a thought. As drab as these women's daughters were, they would provide excellent contrast for Tyra. Oh, all three were pretty (well, Tyra was stunningly beautiful), but they had very little else in common.

The little black girl had sizable tits for a preteen where both Tyra and Kelly were flat as boards. There was something about Kelly....a kind of innocence not seen very often...that separated her from Tyra and Renee. Leanne was still pondering this turn of events as the producers entered the room.


"Thank you for your patience," Jim Armbruster said as he entered the room. "I apologize for making you wait so long."

"We were just going over the videos of your daughters again," Arnold Buchwald said as he and Jim took their seats.

"And," Lauraine asked, breathlessly, "what's your decision? Did Kelly get the part?"

Monique glared at the red-headed woman but Leanne just sighed. If you're too eager, they'll pay you very little, thinking you're happy just to have your daughter on the screen,

"Well," Jim said, "that depends on you. You may not want your daughter to participate. This film's a lot more extreme than most child bondage movies. This isn't without compensation, but I'll be frank. If they participate, your daughters won't survive the filming of this movie."

"Before you object," Arnold interjected before the three women could start yelling, "you should know that for their parts in this film, each of you will receive $100,000 and 1% of the gross profits."

Leanne was stunned. Tyra had been in quite a few films but had rarely earned more that $10,000 for a single film. And they'd never made a percentage of the profits. The other two women, being new to the scene, had no idea how generous the producers were being. Then again, there was that 'won't survive' bit to think about.

"You're talking about a snuff film," Leanne calmly said to the producers. "You're going to do whatever to the girls but, in the end, you're going to kill them. Is that right?"

Lauraine and Monique sat in stunned silence. The snuff part wasn't such a big deal. Snuff films had been legalized for a decade now. As long as the actor or actress signed the waiver, they could be snuffed in a movie. The catch was the age of the victims.

"Yes," Jim said. "A new bill in congress just gave parents unlimited control over their dependents. If the parent covers at least 51% of the dependent's living expenses, the parents can do as they wish."

"Until this bill passed," Arnold continued, "you had the right to commit your dependent to anything non-lethal. With the rising cost of living and the increasing number of children living with their parents, congress finally passed the bill."

"Granted, " he continued, "most people will think this bill pertains only to adult children, but our attorneys assure us that minor children are also covered in this bill. Something about unmanageable minors putting too much of a burden on their parents."

"To our knowledge," Jim said, "no other studio has thought to do a snuff film featuring children, but, with the growing acceptance of child bondage, it's merely a matter of time. We're just getting a jump on them."

"Let me get this straight," Lauraine said, "you're going to torture my daughter and then kill her?"

"That's right," Arnold said.

"And I'll get $100,000 and 1% of the gross profits? Preposterous!"

Lauraine turned to retrieve her purse and was halfway to the door when Jim called to her.

"Mrs. Green," he said, "you may want to reconsider that. If this wasn't a snuff film, we never would've selected your daughter. She's too scrawny to be a decent bondage model. And though she is pretty, there're lots of pretty 10-year-olds to star in bondage films."

"The same goes for your daughter, Mrs. Dupois," he continued. Though Renee is a beautiful child, she looks far too mature to be in child bondage films. She may be only 10 years old, but she looks 13 or 14. Most people who want to watch those films want to see a young child get tied up and punished."

"As for Tyra," Arnold said to Leanne, "well, she's gorgeous but she's no longer a big draw. She's been in what....13 films now?"

"Fifteen," Leanne said with a sigh.

Though she hated to admit it, Arnold was right. So was Jim in his accurate description of the other girls. Then again, it was their job to know what the audience wanted. Tyra was too well-known for her own good. The jobs would dry up and soon, there would be no more films for the young girl.

"How were you going to do it," she asked. "Kill them, I mean."

"If you and the other ladies agree, Ms. Fastenne, we'll behead them."

"You're going to cut their heads off," Monique gasped, no longer able to stay silent.


"And when will they find out," Leanne asked, surprised to find that she had already come to terms with the death of her 10-year-old daughter. "I assume you won't tell them up front that they'll be dead in two weeks time."

"No," Jim said. "We want them to be willing for the first part of the film. They'll find out halfway through the second week. At that point, we'd need to keep them at the studio so they don't run away."

"Makes sense," Leanne said thoughtfully.

"It makes sense," Lauraine asked incredulously. "What makes sense? Are you really going to let these men cut your daughter's head off?"


With a nod from Leanne, Jim realized she wanted to speak privately to the other mothers. She was coping with the shock better than he had hoped. Maybe she could explain things to Monique and Lauraine.

"I'm going to get something to drink, ladies," he said. "Would you three like anything?"

"Do you have scotch," Lauraine asked. "I really think I need a drink."

"I hope you'll understand but we can't offer alcohol to you during the negotiations. Once we've finished, I can get you a scotch, but for now, we have soda, water, juice, or milk."

"I'm fine," Lauraine said.

As the other two ladies shook their heads, Jim left, motioning for Arnold to come along.


The door shut quietly and the men were gone.

"You two," Leanne said patiently as she looked from Monique to Lauraine, "are new to the industry. I have worked with Jim and Arnie many times in the last three years and they're the best producers in the business."

"Other producers I've worked with would've hidden a clause in the contract. I would've found out about the clause when I came back to pick up Tyra only to find out she'd been killed."

"This is a rough industry and I understand if you ladies can't give up your daughters. You should know, however, that this genre has gained a lot of acceptance lately. With this acceptance, the would-be actresses are coming out of the woodwork. Three years ago, Tyra made $20,000 for her first film."

"Now, the average salary for an average girl is between $2,000 and $4,000. Your girls are above average and could possibly make between $5,000 and $6,000. In Tyra's last three films, she made only around $5,750 per film."

"I don't tell you this to brag, but to give you a realistic view of what they're offering. It's unlikely that any new actress will earn $100,000 throughout her acting career. There's just too much competition now."

Leanne sat on the couch and massaged her temples. This was giving her a headache. A scotch after negotiations would be greatly appreciated.

"To answer your question, Monique," Leanne said, "I am going to do it. What they don't tell you when you begin in this business is that the girls become addicted to the abuse. Tyra's already begging me to take a strap to her when she gets home from school."

Both Lauraine and Monique stared wide-eyed at the other woman.

"She likes the pain. She doesn't know why she likes the pain, but that's her youth showing itself. She's been praised for taking abuse. That positive reinforcement, along with the sexual pleasure the producers mix in with the torture, conditions the girls to the point where they associate the pain with feeling good."

"What this means," Leanne continued, "is that Tyra's turning into a masochist. A victim, if you will. Your daughters may not be there yet, but, if you continue in this field, it's merely a matter of time."

"I keep coming back to these films because if I didn't, Tyra would get someone else to torture her. An amateur could maim her for life. What I realized as Jim was talking was this: by allowing them to behead Tyra, her life as a victim will come to an end. "

"Yes. I know that Tyra will die anyway, but, this way is merciful compared to what awaits her. Believe me."

Lauraine hung her head. Although everything Leanne said was right, it was just wrong to kill a kid. The blonde woman, however, had made several good points. Lauraine knew that Kelly was already a bit of a masochist. That was what brought them to this audition. The troubled expression on Monique's face told Lauraine that the black woman was also seeing the truth.

Without knowing it, both Lauraine and Monique had made their decisions. Their daughters would be in this movie.


Arnold and Jim came back into the room. They sat down and looked at the solemn faces of the three mothers.

"I think," Leanne said, "that we've decided."

"And your decision," Jim asked.

"I accept your offer," Leanne said.

"Me too," said Lauraine.

Monique hung her head and sobbed but nodded her head as well.

"There's one thing, though," Leanne said. "I know the bill you speak of and it does indeed give you the right to use children in snuff films. My question is this: will we have to be there for the beheading?"

"I am afraid so," Jim said. "The law is clear. We can do this, but the lawful guardian has to witness the deed to make it completely legal. You'll have to be with us when we film the end."

"I was afraid of that," Leanne said. "It doesn't, however, change my mind. We have a deal."

"And you two ladies," Jim asked as her turned to Monique and Lauraine, "what's your decision?"

Neither woman could say anything. They just nodded.

Jim picked up the office phone and dialed a number.

"Bernadette," he said into the phone, "please convey our apologies to Carol and Danii, but the roles have been filled."


Tyra looked at her mother. Since leaving the studio, Leanne hadn't spoken. This silence, Tyra knew, meant something was troubling her.

"So," Tyra said, "I got the part?"

"Yes," her mother replied. "I should tell you, though, that this movie will be harsher than any you've done before."


"They're going to torture you, Tyra. There will be real pain in this movie. I don't know the details but they may burn you, cut you, or push needles into you."

"Is that all?"

"Is that all," Leanne asked incredulously. "That's enough, isn't it? I mean it's really going to hurt."

Tyra grinned at her mother.

"I like pain, mommy. You know that."

"You're weird," Leanne said with a chuckle.

"No. I'm just extreme."


Renee was humming along with the music. Monique looked at the 10-year-old and wondered if Leanne had been right.

"Renee," she said. "Do you like pain?"


"Don't worry." Monique said. "You can tell me anything."

"Yes, mommy."


"Yes," Renee repeated. "I like pain."

"Have you ever hurt yourself?"


"I promise," the mother said. "I won't be mad."



"Nikki and me poked needles in our skin."


"Well, we were watching these video clips on the 'net where this guy pushed long needles through a girl's boobies. He also pushed them through her cunny. It looked cool so Nikki and I did the same thing."


"I had Nikki push a needle through my nipple."


"It did hurt," Renee said, "but it felt good too. So we tried more."


"In one of the clips, the guy sewed the girl's cunny lips together. In another clip, he pushed. like, 40 huge tacks in a girl's butt and had her sit down."


"We couldn't find any tacks," Renee said, "but Nikki put about 20 pins in my butt. The were the pins with the colored balls on the end. I had her push them all the way in and then I sat down on them."


"It hurt real good."

Monique shook her head in astonishment. Maybe Leanne had something there.

"At least, it wasn't as bad as the competition."


"We saw it on the 'net. Mothers were killing their daughters. The one who got the highest score won a prize."

"Really? Mothers killing their little girls?"

"No. The contest rules said the girls had to be at least 18 years old. In the one Nikki and I saw, this woman had a really big fake penis and she used it to fuck her daughter to death."

"Fuck," Monique asked. "Where did you learn that word?"

"Nikki's brother Billy. He was watching the clip with us and then her did it to Nikki to show us how it worked."

"He fucked his sister," the mother asked, incredulously.


"And did he do it to you, too?"


"Come on, baby. I told you I wouldn't get mad."

"Oh, yeah," Renee said with a sigh of relief. "Yeah he did it to me but it hurt a bit and he freaked out when I started to bleed a little."

"Hmmm...." Monique said. "He broke your hymen."

Neither had anything more to say so they finished the drive in silence.


Kelly was a chatterbug during the ride home.

"That was so fun, Mom," the little girl said. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"I'm glad you had a good time," Lauraine replied. "Tell me about the interview. You were in there for quite a while. What did they have you do?"

"Well, first, they hit me with their fists. Not too hard, but I think I may have a bruise or two later. Then, they had me bend over and the spanked me with a wooden paddle. It had holes in it."

"It was broken?"

"No, the holes were like a design."

"Ah, I see. That's to reduce air resistance. It allows the paddle to hit you harder. Did it hurt a lot?"

"Yes," Kelly said with a grin. "It hurt real good. I was screaming and crying and everything."

"Wow," Lauraine said. The studio must have excellent sound-proofing. Nothing was heard from the waiting room.

"What else did they do," the mother asked.

"They put clamps on my nipples and cunny."


"Yeah," Kelly relied. "Like those big black ones you use to hold your papers together."

"Damn, kid. Those must've really hurt. Were they big ones?"

"Yep. I couldn't even open them."

"I'm surprised you still have nipples after that."

"Then they put a rope around my neck and lifted me off the ground."

"They hung you? That could've killed you."

"No," the 10-year-old said. "I told them it wouldn't. I don't weigh enough."

"And how, exactly, do you know that?"

"Siobhan and I have done it to each other before. It gets hard to breathe and it hurts, but it is fun, too."

"Siobhan has done this too?"

"Yeah, we were reading a book in in the library and it mentioned hanging people. We wondered what it was like."

"Didn't it say the people who were hung died?"

"Yeah, but that was because they dropped. When they fell, the rope pulled them up short and broke their necks. We went into her cellar and hung a rope over a pipe near the ceiling. Then we tied a loop and put it over our heads. Then we took turns pulling each other up."

"You weren't afraid you'd die?"

"Well, we were a little nervous, but everyone dies. If I died doing something I liked, that wouldn't be too bad."

"Do you want to die?"

"Not really," the little girl replied, "but I could die getting hit by a car while crossing the street. If I die, I die. If you're always afraid you might die, you never try anything new. That's awfully boring."

"I see."

"Besides, I've seen people die before and it wasn't too bad."

"Sorry kiddo, but when they die on TV, it's part of the story. They are just acting dead."

"No. It was on the Internet. Siobhan and I watched this competition where mothers killed their daughters. This one mother cut off her daughters boobies and cunny. Then she took the girl's skin off."


"Yeah, and then she put the girl in a pot and cooked her. When the girl was dead, the mother cut her daughter's head off. It was so cool."

"Where was Siobhan's mother while you were watching this?"

"She was out running errands. Siobhan's big brother Seamus was watching us."

"Did he know you were watching this competition?"

"Yeah. He helped us find it on the net. He's helped us find other websites before."

"What websites," Lauraine asked, intrigued despite her mounting horror.

"There's this website called Brutal Master and another website called Torture Galaxy. They have movies of women really being beat up."

"Well," Lauraine said thoughtfully, "when we get home, I'd like you to show me these websites."

"Okay, mommy."


After Leanne and Tyra got home, the mother called Carol Naylor.


"Hi, Carol. This is Leanne, Tyra's mother."

"Oh, hello, Leanne. Do I understand correctly that congratulations are in order?"

"I guess. Hey, do you have some time to talk tonight?"

"Sure, if you want to come over around 9:00pm."

"Thanks, Carol. I just need to talk to someone and you'd understand me better than anyone else."

"Leanne? Are you okay?"

"I can't talk right now, Carol, but I'll be over there around 9:00pm."

"Okay. I'll see you then."


After hanging up, Leanne arranged for a babysitter. Tyra resented it, but Leanne was not comfortable leaving the 10-year-old at home alone at night.

Carol would understand. Those two other women - Monique and Lauraine - thought they understood the hazards of the child bondage industry. They didn't. Danii Naylor hadn't been in as many movies as Tyra but she was in enough for Carol to understand the situation.

It was 7:00pm. Tyra was just finishing up her dinner. The babysitter would be there in about 30 minutes. It wouldn't take 90 minutes to get to Carol's. The woman lived only four blocks away, for Christ's sake. Leanne, however, needed time to think and collect her thoughts.


At 9:00pm, Leanne knocked on the Naylor family's front door. She still wasn't sure what she was looking for from Carol, but she just needed to talk to someone. Of all the people Leanne knew, Carol was the only one who would truly understand.

"Come on in," Carol said as she opened the door.

As Leanne entered the house, Carol handed her a tall glass of wine. Leanne looked at it for a few moments before turning her attention to her host.

"You know," Leanne said, "don't you?"

Carol nodded.

"Let's go out onto the patio. We can enjoy our drinks and talk freely."

"Where's Danii?"

"Sleeping. One of the reasons I want to go to the patio is I can see the stairs from the patio. If she comes downstairs, we'll know it immediately."

Leanne nodded.

They went onto the patio.

"Drink," Carol said. "You look like you need it."

"How'd you find out?"

"Bernadette's an old college friend of mine. She inadvertently let it slip that this movie is a bit more extreme."

"Extreme," Leanne said with a humorless chuckle. "I guess you could say it's extreme. Damnit, Carol. What am I going to do?"

"It seems you already know that. Tyra's going to be in the film, right? When does production start?"

"On Monday. Jim said it would take about two weeks."

"And when do they plan on notifying the stars of the film's conclusion?"

"Tuesday of week two. They want to keep the girls there. That way they can make sure the girls don't run."

"I can understand that," Carol said.

"Oh, Carol, how can I face Tyra? In five days, she begins a film shoot that culminates with her losing her head. My little girl will be dead in three weeks."

"How are the other mothers handling it?"

"Poorly. They thought their little darlings were going to be starting a film career. Instead, the girls' first film will also be their last."

"You and I," Carol said, "understand this industry. Looking around, how many child bondage actresses do you know who are still alive?"

"What do you mean?"

"The business grows on you. I don't know about Tyra, but Danii's already showing signs of turning into a painslut. How long before the 'tame' bondage is not enough? Eventually, she'll go too far and that'll be the end of Danii Naylor, child actress."

Leanne looked at Carol. The other woman had tears in her eyes.

"How can you accept that so easily," Leanne asked.

"Easily? No. I did this to her. It started with that first film, but she did so well that there was another, and another. I got her involved in this shit and now, she is hooked. I wasn't going to take her to this audition, but I caught her playing with a kitchen knife."

"She was making small cuts on her chest. She wanted to feel the pain. These films are terrible but at least, the ones causing the pain know what they are doing. Danii, in her ignorance, could kill herself."

"Yeah," Leanne said sadly. "Tyra's acting the same way. I told the other mothers the same thing. Maybe it's better this way. This way, at least, they'll end their suffering."

Carol nodded thoughtfully.

"That was my thought. I could almost wish Danii had been selected. I am, however, a selfish mother. I can't let her go like that."

"Is there anything I can do for Tyra," the doomed child's mother asked.

"Well, there's no school right now. Take Tyra away for a few days. Create some loving memories that you can hold on to."

"Yes," Leanne said. "We can go somewhere. She has always wanted to see the redwoods or the boardwalk in Santa Cruz. I went to both places when I was a kid and loved it."

"Well, you have five days. You have to pass the redwoods on the way to Santa Cruz. Why not go to both places?"

"Why not," Leanne asked agreeably. "Thank you, Carol. I really needed to talk to someone."

"I am always here for you, Leanne. Like you said, we understand each other."

"Thanks, Carol. That really means a lot to me. I should get home now. I have to pack."

Leanne put down her untouched glass of wine and left.

"Poor woman," Carol said as she pick up the glass of wine and went into the house.

Filming ~ Day 1

Leanne pulled into the studio's parking lot at 8:45am Monday morning. She and Tyra had had a great time in Santa Cruz and Tyra loved the Redwood National State Park. There was something awe-inspiring about looking up at a tree that had been there for over 2000 years.

Tyra had loved looking at the old trees. They were absolutely huge. Leanne, on the other hand couldn't help but look at Tyra and the trees and realize how fleeting life is. The trees had been there for thousands of years. Tyra, on the other hand, wouldn't see her 11th birthday.

Getting out of the car, Leanne saw Monique and Lauraine smoking at a picnic table about 50 feet away from the studio's front door.

"Go on inside, sweetie," Leanne told Tyra. "I'm going to talk to the other girls' mommies."

"Okay," Tyra said with a giggle. She was really looking forward to this shoot.

Leanne watched Tyra run to the building's entrance before heading over to the other mothers.


"I just couldn't believe it," Lauraine was saying to Monique as Leanne arrived.

"I know," Monique replied. She looked up as Leanne sat at the table, lit a cigarette, and took a puff.

"You were right, Leanne," the black woman said. "I couldn't believe it when Renee told me, but, she's been experimenting with BDSM and torture for years."

Leanne nodded sadly. These poor women were just now discovering the horror of child bondage. In adult bondage, the participants are usually mature enough to balance their self-destructive behavior with self-preservation. They could enjoy the bondage without letting it destroy them.

Children, on the other hand, had no such experience. The feelings were new and exciting. It wouldn't take long for these 'innocents' to discover extreme bondage. That, Leanne knew, could easily end in the death of the participant. Tyra was already heading down that pass. This movie, horrible as it was, could be a blessing in disguise.

"Kelly has, too," Lauraine added. "She and her friend have been hanging each other. Kelly likes it. I asked her if she was afraid to die and she shocked me. She said that she could die getting hit by a car or she could get killed doing something she likes to do. She said she didn't mind dying while doing something she enjoyed."

"I don't know how Renee feels about dying herself," Monique said, "but she's watched a snuff competition on the Internet before and she said that it looked cool."

"A snuff competition," Lauraine asked. "Did it involve mothers killing their daughters?"

"Yes," Monique answered. "The one Renee saw involved this mother fucking her 18-year-old daughter with a gigantic dildo. Apparently, the daughter had development issues and despite being 18 years old, she looked like a 13-year-old. The dildo was way too big for the daughter to handle safely and the mother fucked her daughter to death."

"Kelly saw something from that competition," Lauraine said. "She watched this mother skin her daughter alive. She cut off her daughter's breasts and pussy before skinning the girl. Then she boiled the girl until the girl died. Lastly, she cut off her daughter's head."

Leanne continued nodding sadly. She and Carol had discussed these things. This was where their daughters were heading. Whatever Jim and Arnie had planned for this movie, it would be terrible but it would be over in two weeks. Tyra, Renee, and Kelly would be dead and their suffering would end.

The three ladies were so engrossed in their discussion, they never saw Jim approach. When Leanne saw him, she frowned. She'd known him long enough to know the look on his face. He had something to talk to them about and he was uncomfortable with it. He was going to kill three preteen girls in less than two weeks. What could be worse than that?


"Good morning, ladies," Jim said with a smile that never touched his eyes.

Leanne sighed.

"Morning, Jim," she replied. "What's up?"

The man looked at Leanne and the other two mothers uncomfortably. Swallowing audibly, he gathered his courage.

"There've been some developments in the script for the movie," Jim said. "Developments in which you may have interest."

The three ladies looked at each other. What now?

"The client would like to have you three involved in the film."

"Us," Lauraine asked uncertainly. "What would we do in the film?"

"You would, if you agree, be the ones to kill the girls," Jim said. "Now before you answer, hear me out. The client has seen pictures of you and your daughters. She's very pleased with all of you."

"Wait a minute," Monique said. "She? The client - the person paying for the death of our daughters - is a woman?"

"Yes," Jim said. "I can't tell you who she is, but she's very wealthy. She's offered to increase your compensation from $100,000 to $300,000 and 5% of the gross profits."

"Whoa," Lauraine said. "Let me see if I understand this. This rich woman not only wants to see my daughter beheaded; she also wants me to be the one to cut off my daughter's head. For this, I'll be paid $300,000?"

"And 5% of the gross profits," Jim said with a nod. "There is more, though."

Leanne had assumed so. The kind of money this woman was throwing around was not insignificant. This woman would want something special for her investment.

"She knows," Jim said, "that this is a terrible thing to ask of you. Some people couldn't live with the knowledge that she'd killed her own daughter. If any of you accept the offer and have problems with it, you may volunteer to be killed on-screen as well. In return, she'll increase your compensation to $400,000 and send the money to your designated beneficiary."

"I should tell you," he continued, "that this'll not be as easy for you as it is for your daughters. You'd be tortured before being allowed to die. The pain would be extreme. I don't need an answer now, but by the time we take possession of your daughters next week, we'll need to know your intentions. If you agree to everything, you'll be held just as we'll hold your daughters."

The three women just looked at each other. That was a good point. Could they live with the knowledge that they had allowed their daughters to be killed? Could they be their daughters' executioners? They all knew someone they could name as a beneficiary.

In Leanne's case, it would be Carol Naylor. She had visited with Carol every night she'd been home since accepting the role for Tyra. Carol had become more important to Leanne than she would've ever imagined.

On the other hand, he'd said that they would be tortured. Leanne knew her pain tolerance was very high, but she had no illusions. If Jim said the pain would be extreme, they'd likely be begging for death before the end.

"Jim," Leanne said, "I don't know about Lauraine or Monique, but I'll need time to consider both issues. When do you need the answers?"

"Well, for the question of you joining your daughters as victims, you'd need to let us know by the time we take possession of your girls next week. As to the question of you performing as the executioner, wed like to know by Friday so we can make the necessary arrangements."

"What sort of arrangements," Monique asked. "I thought would be cutting their heads off."

"That is most certainly true," Jim said. "The girls will lose their heads. The arrangements concern the manner in which they lose their heads. The client, if you choose to participate, may have special requests. Those are the arrangements of which I speak."

"That's for next week, though," Lauraine said. "Well, we have to give you our answers by Friday. What are you doing with the girls today?"

"This week is almost entirely physical beatings and strappings," Jim said. "We'll use floggers on them. We'll use paddles on them. We'll smack them around and maybe punch them. On Friday, we'll hang them. We won't kill them, but we will scare them."

"Wow," Lauraine muttered. "You don't hold back, do you?"

"This is holding back," Jim said. "Next week, we'll introduce electricity, fire, and knifeplay into the action."

"What should we be doing," Monique asked.

"For now," he said, "not much. Think about the offer on the table. Make your decision and let me know on Friday."

He turned to head back into the studio.

"Oh, yes," he said as he turned back to the three mothers. "You'll want to pick up some analgesic cream. Leanne can let you know what works best."


Leanne turned to find herself faced with two troubled women.

"Analgesic cream," Lauraine asked.

"Electricity and knifeplay," Monique said at the same time.

Leanne sighed.

"What are you ladies doing tonight," she asked the other two mothers.

"I don't know," Lauraine said uncertainly. "Why?"

Looking at Monique, Leanne got the same reply.

"The girls will not be hurt today. The first day of shooting is spent getting to know the crew and the studio. They may experience a few spankings, but it'll be nothing serious. Jim likes to take his time and ease the girls into it."

"The reason I ask," Leanne continued, "is because I would like you to meet someone. She's the mother of one of the girls who wasn't selected for this film."

"Why would we want to speak with her," Monique demanded.

"Because she's experienced in this industry," Leanne said. "Because she's a psychologist and has an amazing understanding of people. Because she's helped me in the past. Most importantly, because I think she'd be a great asset to you during this time."

"To be honest," she continued, "I'm considering accepting Jim's offers. Both of them."

"But you'd be killing your own daughter," Monique said argumentatively.

"Not to mention being killed, yourself," Lauraine said.

"I know. Believe me, I know. I brought my daughter to this and I feel responsible for it. Tyra's all I have. I love her dearly and, to end her pain, I agreed to this ridiculous film. I don't think I can live with myself after this."

"The woman I want you to meet, Carol Naylor, is just about the only person I can talk to. I like you two well enough, but we really don't know each other. I've known Carol for several years. Despite our daughters competing, Carol and I have struck up a friendship."

"If I do decide to accept Jim's offers, Carol will be my designated beneficiary. She's the best friend I've ever had."

The other two women looked at each other for a few moments.

"I think," Monique said, "that I might need to meet this woman."

"Me, too," said Lauraine.

"I'll call her and let you know this afternoon if we can get together."


"Hello," Carol asked as she answered the ringing phone.

"Hi, Carol. It's Leanne."

"Oh, hi, Leanne. How was your trip?"

"It was wonderful," Leanne said. "We had a great time. Thank you for the suggestion."

"And how are the other things going?"

"Well," Leanne said, hesitantly, "that's what I'm calling about. The other two mothers; Monique and Lauraine; are having difficulty with some choices Jim has given us. I was wondering if I could bring them over tonight. You've been such a help to me. I think you could help them as well."

"I understand that this is awkward," Leanne said. "I'll understand if you don't want to do it."

"It's no problem, Leanne," Carol said. "I'd love to help if I can. Danii's visiting her grandmother for the next two weeks so you can come over any time."

"Thanks, Carol. I really appreciate it. These women are lost and I don't think they fully believe me."

"You're very welcome. I am on vacation for the next two weeks. I am mostly doing housework and painting. That is why Danii's not here. Just give me an hour's notice so I can get a shower."

"Thanks, again, Carol. I will call later."

Filming ~ Day 3

It was 6:30pm and Leanne was on her way to Carol's house. Filming had wrapped for the day at 4:00pm. The girls were sore, but happy. Jim and Bernadette had proposed the idea of a sleepover at the studio. There were enough couches for the three girls and Bernadette had no problem babysitting while the three mothers took a 'ladies night out'.

Leanne had a sneaky suspicion that Carol was behind the offer. After Carol had mentioned that she and Bernadette were college buddies, Leanne ended up talking to the receptionist about their mutual friend. Bernadette was more than willing to share explicit details about their friendship; after getting permission from Carol.

Apparently, they'd been more than just friends. During their first four years at college, they were roommates and lovers. Once they graduated, their affair had ended, but they remained in touch. It wasn't until Danii showed up for her first audition, however, that Carol learned of her friend's line of work.

It was made abundantly clear, on both sides, that assistance in getting Danii roles was neither requested, nor offered. Bernadette liked her work and wouldn't jeopardize her job to help her friend's daughter get into a film. Carol, a professional herself, expected no help. Either Danii would get the job on her own merit or she wouldn't get the job at all.

When Lauraine, Monique, and Leanne had found profound difficulty in finding available time to visit with Carol, the beautiful receptionist had a talk with Jim and the sleepover was proposed. The three mothers understood from the beginning that it was merely a way for Bernadette to allow the them time to get away.

Lauraine and Monique were riding with Leanne. Monique was in the front seat with Leanne while Lauraine sat in the back seat. Both the other mothers were silent. Leanne understood their trepidation, but found it amusing, nonetheless. There was nothing threatening about Carol Naylor. They had nothing to fear.


Carol went from room to room, tidying as she went. There were several rooms off-limits due to paint fumes, but Leanne and her - well, friends might be too much - her companions would be able to sit and talk in the living room or they could all go out onto the patio like she and Leanne did when Leanne last came over.

Leanne had hinted at ominous tidings when she mentioned the 'offers' Jim had given the three mother's. Carol was not too sure she could help, but was more than willing to try. Having had experience counseling parents of recently deceased children, Carol do what she could. It would be best, however, to let the other women lead the discussion.

Leanne's timing couldn't have been better. With Danii spending two weeks with the grandparents, the four women would be alone in the house and would be able to talk without the fear that little ears might hear something they shouldn't. Also, Danii would not be reminding the other women of the fact that Danni would live while their daughters were destined to die.

Hearing a car engine, Carol looked at the clock. It was 7:00pm. Her guests had arrived.

"Showtime," Carol whispered as she opened the front door.


Leanne looked up as she caught the opening of the front door out of the corner of her eye. Seeing Carol, she heaved a sigh of relief. Carol was dressed in an old shirt and faded loose jeans. She was speckled with paint, reminding Leanne that Carol had mentioned the task of painting the house.

"Good evening," Carol said with a smile. "Come on in. It's a bit hot out here and I've got the AC on inside."

It was hot, Leanne noticed, bemused that she hadn't really noticed until Carol mentioned it.

"I have to apologize for my appearance," Carol said. "It's terrible of me, but I lost track of time and was caught up in my painting."

'Bullshit,' Leanne thought with a smile.

Carol had told her that when she met people she was counseling, she tried to put them at ease, often by revealing a potentially embarrassing human frailty. If the woman lost track of time, she was obviously human and not someone by whom they should be intimidated.

The amused looks on Monique and Lauraine's faces showed that the trick had worked. They were relaxed. This was not a scary woman after all.

Entering the house, the outside temparature quickly became apparent. Despite the thermostat reading 73 degrees, it felt positively cold. Leanne could see through the living room and the room beyond was obviously one of the rooms Carol was painting. They could smell the paint.

"Please excuse me," Carol said suddenly. "It's terrible of me, but I really think I should change."

After sniffing the air, much to the amusement of her guests, Carol added, "I think I need a shower, too. I'll be right back. There are sodas, beer, and wine in the refrigerator. Feel free to have anything you want. Make yourselves at home. It's not much, but Leanne can show you around if you like."

Before she got to the stairs, she turned around and looked at her guests. They were perspiring, heavily.

"I just had a thought," Carol said with a smile. "If you three would like to take a refreshing dip, I have a lovely pool out back. We could relax with a swim."

"Uh, Carol," Leanne said hesitantly, "we didn't bring bathing suits."

"That's not a problem," Carol replied. "You remember that I have a 12-foot tall privacy fence around the back yard. Just go in naked. It's only us women here and I really don't think any of us has something the others haven't seen. Tell you what, let me know what you decide when I get back."

Turning back to the stairs, Carol dashed off to take her shower.

"I have to admit, Leanne," Monique said, "that she certainly seems nice enough. I don't know about a swim, but a glass of wine sounds good."

"This way," Leanne said, leading the other two into the kitchen.

When Leanne was here before, she'd noticed vaguely that Carol had a pool, but with her attention on the film, she hadn't really seen it. Walking into the kitchen, she wondered how that was remotely possible.

The pool was huge. They could see it easily through the sliding glass door to the patio. Carol hadn't been exaggerating about the privacy fence, either. It was easily tall enough to prevent even the most ardent peeping tom from succeeding in his endeavors.

"You know," Leanne said, "I think I will go for a dip."

Saying nothing more, Leanne went out to the back yard, stripped, placed her clothes on a pool chair, and dove into the pool. Monique and Lauraine quickly followed the blonde woman outside.

"Leanne," Monique said, "are you sure this woman won't mind?"

"If she minded," Leanne said as she shook wet hair from her face, "she wouldn't have offered. Carol is very plain-spoken. I've never had to worry about hidden meanings when she said something. She said to make ourselves at home and that's precisely what she meant."

Lauraine and Renee just looked at each other for a few moments before stripping off their own clothes.


Carol stepped out of the shower and, hearing a noise from her back yard, looked out the window. She smiled as she saw that Leanne had talked them into going for a swim. The three naked ladies were all beautiful. True, Monique was a bit large, but that took nothing away from her.

Carol had called Leanne the night before. When Leanne mentioned the wariness of the other women, Carol thought a less formal - much less formal - setting might facilitate the discussion. She set the pool temperature to 82 degrees, ordered pizza to be delivered at 9:00pm, and decided to let Leanne persuade the ladies to let their hair down, so to speak.

Grabbing several large towels, she picked out some clothes, and carried them all outside to the pool area. Without a word, she set her bundle in a pool chair and dove into the water. In a while, she'd recommend a soak in the hot tub.


Leanne smiled as Carol came outside. The other two had not noticed yet, but Carol apparently had decided to follow the present 'dress code' and swim nude, even though she had a swimsuit available. She wasn't surprised when Carol merely dropped off her clothes and towels and dove in.

"I am glad you decided to go for a swim," Carol said after she had surfaced. "A shower was nice, but I was really looking forward to time in the pool and then some time in the hot tub."

"Hot tub," Lauraine asked.

Carol smiled.

"So you saw my pool and didn't even bother looking around? I can't say I blame you. I love this pool. The hot tub, however, is in the corner next to the house. It's easy to miss, really."

The other three women looked where Carol indicated and saw that there was, indeed, a hot tub.

"That wasn't there when I came over last time," Leanne said.

"Nope," Carol agreed amiably. "I picked it up last week. I also got a heat lamp so I can use it in the winter."

"Nice," Leanne said.

"Anyway," Carol continued, "I was thinking that the four of us could unwind for a bit before we eat,"

"We're eating," Lauraine asked.

"Yes. Oh! I forgot to mention it. I ordered two pizzas; one cheese and one pepperoni. I hope you'll stay long enough to help me eat them. They'll be delivered around 9:00pm."

Leanne saw that Carol was trying to make this a very informal discussion. The woman really wanted her guests to be relaxed and comfortable. Looking at Lauraine and Monique, Leanne saw that Carol would get her wish.


They swam for about 40 minutes before going to soak in the hot tub. They'd soaked in the hot tub for about 30 minutes before Carol offered the use of her shower to anyone who wanted to use it. All three of her guests took her up on her offer.

They were all sitting in Carol's living room, wearing plush bathrobes when the pizza arrived. Carol jumped up and went to pay for them, not noticing that her belt had come undone. When she opened the door and tried to tip the 17-year-old driver, he just blushed and said he'd already received it. Seeing Carol's confusion, he pointed down.

Carol looked down and saw that her robe was open, leaving nothing at all to the imagination. Realizing it was too late to do anything about it, she chuckled, forced the $20 tip into the driver's hand and told him to drive carefully. He just chuckled as he headed back to his car.


"Well," Carol said, walking into the living room with the pizzas, "that's one way to get out of a tip."

Leanne and Lauraine, having seen the belt come loose, just laughed. Monique looked puzzled.

"The belt came loose," Carol said indicating the bathrobe belt, "and I inadvertently gave a 17-year-old delivery driver a thrill."

Monique's face split in a huge grin.

"His face must have been hilarious," the black woman said.

"I never knew someone could turn that red," Carol replied. "Well, the pizza's here. I have beer, wine coolers, wine, and soda. What would you like?"

Leanne and Carol had beers, Monique had a wine cooler, and Lauraine, due to a drinking problem, had a soda. When the other three offered to avoid alcohol, Lauraine insisted they have what they originally planned.

She'd thought about her drinking after the initial meeting with Jim and Arnie. She drank a lot and decided that it was time for a change. She just did not have any problems being around those who drank. Carol took her at face value and brought everyone their drinks.

After demolishing the pepperoni pizza, the four ladies sat back, sated. Carol let out a huge belch. Lauraine and Monique laughed as Leanne just looked at her.

"What," Carol said, defensively, "there is more room outside than inside." Then she, too, broke out into a fit of mirth.

Leanne realized that now was likely the best chance she was going to get. It was time to get the discussion started.

"Carol," she said, "you know why we came over."

"Yes," Carol replied, "I do. You wanted to discuss the offer Jim made you three."

Lauraine and Monique looked at each other. This was going to be tough. How much did this woman know? Was she going to throw them out for being horrible mothers? According to Leanne, she wouldn't, but....

"Why don't you three tell me what this offer is and how I can help?"


"I think," Leanne said, "it might go easier if you tell us how much you know. It might be easier for us to fill in the blanks."

"Good point," Carol said. "Okay, I know that this film will culminate with the three actresses losing their heads. I know you three have agreed to this. I know the girls do not know yet."

Lauraine and Monique looked stricken. Leanne had started to cry.

"I also know," Carol continued, softening her tone, "that this was inevitable. The kind of girl that goes in for child bondage is a masochist. They enjoy pain. Well, maybe 'enjoy' isn't quite correct. They derive significant satisfaction from pain."

"After I learned about this film from Bernadette, I decided to do some research. Of the actors and actresses that perform in child bondage, 90% die before they are 25 years old."

All three women looked up in shock.

"That's right," Carol said, answering the unasked question. "Ninety percent of the actors and actresses die before they are 25 years old. The pain becomes like a drug. And like most drug addicts, they need the pain to feed their craving."

"Some go too far and die accidentally. Some commit suicide, seeing that there's no end to their need. Still others, however, go into adult bondage and snuff to feed their addiction."

"The end result," Carol continued, "is the same. They all die. Well, 90% of them do. I didn't want to believe those numbers. I mean, my own daughter is a child bondage actress. I did field research. Last week, I spoke with 50 child bondage actors or their parents. What I discovered was shocking."

"The parents all mentioned the same trend. The children find that the pain they receive during the filming is insufficient to satisfy their craving. Several parents were forced to beat their children rather than allow the children to seek out pain on their own."

"I'm not talking about spankings," Carol said, seeing the looks of disbelief. "The parents created a 'punishment chamber' in their basement or other location in their homes. These 'punishments' include flogging, spanking, needles, electricity, breast torture, and vaginal torture. In the case of the boys, instead of breast or vaginal torture, the parents used cock and ball torture."

The other three ladies looked puzzled.

"To be more specific, I met one little girl, a 9-year-old, who begged her mother to whip her and push barbecue skewers through her ass cheeks and labia. I actually saw the mother doing this. The girl had told me that if she'd had developed breasts, they would've been skewered as well."

"A 13-year-old boy I met had undergone body modification. His tongue had been split. He'd had a ring placed through the head of his penis. As we talked, he also shoved hat pins - 3-inch hat pins - through the shaft of his penis and also through his testicles."

"Oh, my God," Monique said. "I'd heard stories, but I thought they were urban legends."

"No," Carol said. "Sadly, they're not. These children have been conditioned to associate pleasure and emotional satisfaction to the infliction of pain on their bodies. The boy I mentioned actually ejaculated while pushing a hat pin through one of his testicles."

"He told me of a friend of his who attempted to turn his penis into pepperoni slices. Apparently, the other boy had cut his penis off one slice at a time. He'd cut off 15 slices before he bled to death. I read the police report and he, also, ejaculated during the self-mutilation."

"I've read of boys who've castrated themselves. I've read of girls that have nailed their breasts to tables. One girl cut off her own nipples and severed her clitoris. The one thing all these children had in common was the fact that they were all child bondage actors and actresses. When they stopped getting offers for roles, they took matters into their own hands and inflicted pain on themselves."

"I've seen websites devoted to torture. One, called Elite Pain, shows game shows where the contestants complete torture tasks to win money. The contestants can quit at any time, but if they do, they win nothing."

"Another one, called Brutal Master, focuses more on beatings. They whip, cane, and spank their performers. To illustrate the extent of the beatings, they leave welts and severe bruising."

"I've seen Brutal Master's website," Lauraine said. "Kelly and Siobhan had been using Siobhan's big brother's account on that website. It is as bad as you say. There is another site called Torture Galaxy. That site does more with body piercing. Needles, skewers, nails being pushed or hammered into or through buttocks, breasts, and labia."

"The difference," Carol said, "between these websites and the self-mutilation of the children is experience. The torturers on the websites can operate within limitations that prevent permanent damage."

"The children, due to a lack of experience, will likely push the envelope and cross the line, resulting in permanent damage or death. This is the fate that's facing 90% of all child bondage actors and actresses."

"We've put our children in harm's way," Carol continued, starting to cry. "I include myself in this because I've allowed my own daughter to get involved in this dangerous industry. After doing this research, I'll do everything in my power to wean Danii off the need for this pain."

"I have no illusions, here. I may fail miserably. I may be too late. You three have been pushed into a situation where your daughters will die in about a week. After seeing where this addiction leads, I honestly believe that that may be a better choice."

"I love my Danii," she continued as the tears flowed down her face. "I'd love to see her live a long, happy life. If, however, her addiction to pain is too strong, I think I'd rather see her die quickly than go through years of suffering. They're too young to realize it now, but, this really is suffering."

"I'm sorry," Carol said realizing the state she'd put herself in. "I'll be right back. I need to go to the bathroom."


Carol looked at herself in the mirror. The tears had stopped, but she wasn't convinced they wouldn't start up again. She realized the tears weren't for herself. It was possible that, with her experience in dealing with addictions, she would be able to save Danii.

No. Her tears were for the three women in her living room. For them, it was too late. Their daughters were as good as dead. There'd be no rescue for Tyra, Kelly, and Renee. Their addictions had won.

Carol washed her face, dried it, and regained control over herself. These three women were forced to make a terrible decision. Despite the fact that Carol believed it was the right one, it still had to be tremendously difficult for these women to deal with their daughters now, knowing that the little girls would be dead in less than two weeks.

Carol had to do whatever she could to help them. She would listen to the offer Jim had proposed and help the women determine if it should be accepted. Despite, the situation, Carol had no illusions. It could still get much worse.


"I think you are right, Leanne," Monique said. "I think this woman can help us figure out this offer issue. She has obviously put a lot of study into our situation."

Lauraine nodded her head without saying anything. She was moved by their host's tearful confession of her willingness to see her daughter dead rather than prolong the pain this addiction would inflict. This woman's daughter might not be in mortal danger at this time, but the specter of death loomed over the horizon. Carol obviously understood the pain her guests felt.

"She's always impressed me," Leanne said. "She never does anything half-way. I told her about the situation the night after the interviews. She urged me to spend time with Tyra making good memories before it was too late. I'm not surprised that she was moved to investigate this. It may be too late to save our daughters, but Carol might be able to save Danii and other children."

"Let's make it easier on her," Lauraine said. "When she comes back, don't make a big deal over her departure. Let's just explain Jim's offer and see what she says."

"Agreed," Leanne said as Renee nodded.


When Carol appeared a few minutes later, there was no sign that she had been crying. The three guests were impressed that she could recover so quickly.

"I'm sorry," Carol said, "but I guess this discussion hit me more than I'd expected it to."

"Not a problem, Carol," Leanne said. "We all felt....feel that way."

Carol smiled wryly and sat down. Pulling a baggie from her bathrobe pocket, she tossed it onto the table in front of her guests. Inside were several joints.

"I rarely imbibe," she said, pulling a joint from the baggie, "but I had a suspicion that this might be needed. If, however, you think I'm sharing this, you're out of your mind. There are enough for us each to have two, if needed. Help yourselves."

She lit up and took a hit. Holding the smoke for a few moments, she smiled and let it out.

Leanne, Monique, and Lauraine were not inexperienced with marijuana, but it'd been years since any of them had smoked. After looking to each other, back to Carol, and seeing their host's smile, they each retrieved a joint from the baggie.

After her guests had lit up and were smoking, Carol refilled their drinks; non-alcoholic, this time.

"Booze is good," Carol said with a smile. "Pot is good. Booze and Pot, though? Not conducive to a serious discussion."

The three guests smiled as they agreed whole-heartedly.

"Now," Carol said, "after my rather melodramatic performance earlier, I thought we could stand to relax a little."

She sat back and took another drag.

"Before my little performance, we were discussing what I know. Fortunately, I covered everything before I left. Now, why don't you tell me about the proposal?"

Leanne, Monique, and Lauraine looked at each other. After a brief, silent conversation, Leanne took the role of spokesman.

"You pretty much summed up the situation," Leanne said. "Until Monday, that is where things stood. Apparently, Jim's client - the person funding the film - had some changes she would like to be implemented. Due to the contract, the decision was left to us, but the client offered significant compensation."

Of the three, only Leanne was unsurprised that Carol had no reaction to discovering that a woman was behind this film.

'I guess when you're a psychologist,' she thought, 'you see almost everything.'

Taking a puff on her own joint, she continued.

"The change is this: she wants us - Lauraine, Monique, and me - to be the executioners for our own daughters. If we do this, she'll pay each of us $300,000 and 5% of the gross profits from the film."

Carol's eyes widened despite her control. She was about to say something when Leanne held up a hand, stopping her.

"There's a second offer. If we find we can't live with what we've done, we will be allowed to take part in the film, and lose our lives as well. If we choose to do this, the compensation will increase to $400,000. She'd pay the money to a designated beneficiary as we'd have no use for money anymore,"

The mothers of the doomed actresses sat back and awaited Carol's response.

Carol thought quickly. What would she do in such a situation? Well, if she took the first offer, the second would be a given. She didn't think she could live with herself after killing Danii. She'd take the offer and have the money sent to her little sister.

"Wow," the host said. "Those are some serious offers. For myself, the answer to the second would depend on how I handled the first offer. Is the second contingent on accepting the first offer?"

Her three guests nodded.

"I can understand why she would make the offer. There is something erotic about a mother killing her own daughter. This client is smart, though. She knows that you'd likely not accept the first offer as we have an inherent tendency to incriminate ourselves for our misdeeds."

"If, however, you wouldn't have to live with your actions, and someone close to you would benefit from this ridiculous situation, you might consider it. It doesn't matter if you accept the offer. Your daughters are committed. They will die."

"The real question is this: can you kill your daughter? From one point of view, you already have, simply by allowing them to be in this film. From another point of view, it's not you, but the executioner who'll kill the girl."

"This isn't an easy question. How would your daughter feel about being killed by her own mother? Before you answer, realize that many - possibly as many as 50% - of the child-bondage performers would accept their mother as the torturer. They know their mothers and would feel relieved with the familiarity of the person hurting them."

"To answer the first question, you'd need to know how your daughter feels about being killed by her mother. Then, you'd need to ask yourself if you can kill her when the time comes. This'll help you decide if you want to take the first offer."

"The second offer is a little easier to deal with. If you choose not to accept the first offer, the second is meaningless. If you accept the first offer, however, you have a couple of questions to ask before choosing to accept or reject the second offer."

"The first question is this: can you live with yourself when this movie is completed. That really depends on your perspective of your role in this. If you see yourself as a person ending the suffering of your daughter, you may be able to live with it. If you see yourself as the person who killed your daughter, you may not want to live afterwards."

"Remember this, though," Carol continued. "Although you were responsible for accepting the contract, you aren't the only person responsible for this situation. You brought your child into this industry at their request. You were being a loving mother, giving her daughter what she desired."

"The second question concerns the manner of your death. How would you be killed? They may need some messy, painful death, perhaps to make up for the quick, relatively-painless death of the little girl. You may find they can or will torture you heavily before letting you die. In such a case, you have to ask if it's worth it. It's much easier and less painful to kill yourself with an overdose of pills."

Carol sat back and took another long drag of her joint. Letting the other women ponder her words. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was almost 11:30pm.

"It's late," Carol said, "and I would like you to sleep on this. You can stay here tonight. After the drugs and booze, I don't feel comfortable letting any of you drive. Definitely not when you have so much on your mind. If you have any questions, ask them at breakfast. I make a mean scrambled eggs and bacon."

The three guests looked at each other. This woman had given them a lot to think about. They might have questions in the morning. Also, they could feel the effects of the pot and booze. Driving home would probably be okay, but why risk it when their host is being so gracious? Again, Leanne took the role of spokesperson for the three.

"Thank you, Carol, I'll accept your kind offer and I think the others will as well."

Seeing nods from Monique and Lauraine, Carol smiled and helped the other ladies get bedded down for the night.


The next morning, Carol was cooking breakfast when the other ladies stumbled into the kitchen.

"No," Carol answered over her shoulder when Leanne asked if the host would like some help. "I'm almost done. Breakfast will be served in about five minutes."

The three guests sat around the table and watched as Carol finished cooking and served them a plate with hash browns, scrambled eggs, and bacon. She got each of them a cup of coffee and two slices of toast before joining them at the table.

"So," Carol said. "How'd everyone sleep?"

"I don't know about everyone else," Monique said, "but that was the best sleep I've had in the last three weeks."

"Booze and pot will do that," Carol said with a smile. "I can't recommend it all the time, but, on occasion, I use it."

"Carol," Lauraine said hesitantly, "last night, you gave us a lot of good information. Thank you. I was wondering, though, what you think we should do about the offers."

Carol shook her head, sadly.

"I am sorry, Lauraine," she replied, "but I can't help you there. My job is to help you identify options and make the decision yourself. After last night, though, I think it's safe to say you three already know what you are going to do."

The other three women looked at each other for a few moments before nodding.

"I think, though," Carol continued, "that you need to discuss this with your daughters before accepting or rejecting the offers. Jim and Arnie are great guys, but they are not mothers. They don't know how a mother thinks and really don't know the magnitude of what they're offering."

"How can we talk to them about it," Monique asked. "They aren't supposed to know anything about their deaths until the middle of next week. Jim and Arnie were afraid they'd try to run if they knew."

"I am willing to bet that they already know," Carol said, "or at least, suspect. Look, Danii's gone for another 10 days. Why don't you three bring your daughters over here for the weekend? We can have a barbecue and pool party. If you're okay with it, I'll invite Jim, Arnie, and Bernadette."

"We'll bring up the subject and discuss it with the girls. If they react poorly, there'll be seven adults to prevent them from running. Jim and Arnie already have a holding facility, I assume. There's little difference in restraining the girls next Tuesday or this Saturday."

Leanne, Lauraine, and Monique thought about Carol's offer for less than a minute before accepting. They'd appreciate Jim and Arnie being there as well. Lauraine and Monique didn't know Bernadette, but at Leanne's nod, they agreed that the receptionist should be invited as well.

"I hate to rush you," Carol said, "but it's almost 8:30am. If you're going to be at the studio by 10:00am, you'll need to leave by 9:00am. Feel free to take a shower before you go, if you'd like. There are towels in the hall closet."

The three agreed to take showers before they went so they hastily finished breakfast.

Filming ~ Day 4

The day's shooting had wrapped up early; around 3:30pm. Leanne and Tyra were in the car, on their way home.

"Well, sweetie," Leanne said. "Did you have a good time last night? What did you do?"

"Oh, Mommy, it was so fun," the 10-year-old said. "Jim and Bernadette ordered pizza and then we all watched a few movies."

"That does sound fun. What movies did you watch?"

"Well, Kelly and Renee wanted to see some of Jim's earlier movies so we watched a couple that had me and a couple that had Danii."

"Which of your movies did you watch?"

"Jim showed my first movie. I think he wanted Renee and Kelly to see how nervous I was at the beginning. Then, he showed the one where I die at the end."

Leanne felt a chill run up her spine.

"What did Kelly and Renee think about it," the mother asked.

"They loved it. By the time I 'died', they were both rubbing their clitties."

"They didn't think it was weird that you died in the end?"

"No," Tyra said. "I was there with them so they knew it was faked. Besides, they told me about real people being killing on the Internet."

"Would you like to spend more time with them?"

"Really, Mommy, that would be awesome."

"Good, because all of us are going to spend the weekend with Danii's mom."

"Danii's mom," Tyra asked puzzled.

"Yes dear," Leanne replied. "They have a big pool and a hot tub. Carol said she'd cook up a barbecue, Jim and Bernadette will be there as well."

"Is that when they're going to kill us?"

Leanne almost lost control of her car as she reacted to Tyra's unexpected question.

"Geez, Mom," Tyra said. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean, 'is that when they will kill you'," Leanne asked her daughter.

"Come on, Mom. Seriously? I know everything."

"What do you mean," Leanne asked again.

"Jim and Arnie have not said anything, but some of the staff were discussing the film during a shooting break. I'd gone to get drinks for Renee, Kelly, and me and I overheard them talking."

"A new law lets parents decide how far their kids can go in hazardous activities," Tyra said. "One of the guys mentioned that this law is what made this film possible."

"What do you mean," Leanne asked again, beginning to sound like a skipping record.

"Well, the guys said this film is titled 'Three Little Bitches Beheaded'. Kelly, Renee, and I are the three 'bitches' and they really are going to cut our heads off."

"When we got home a few days ago," Tyra continued, "I looked it up on the Internet. It allows the parent to completely control their children that depend on them for support. That obviously includes us three girls."

Leanne sighed heavily, giving Tyra all the confirmation she needed.

"I'm sorry, honey. I should've talked to you about it."

"Oh, that's okay, Mom," Tyra said. "I'm not mad."

"You're not," Leanne asked incredulously.

"No. Although I haven't told the other girls about the film's ending, we've discussed films where the actresses die. Both Kelly and Renee have seen films like that on the Internet. These were real films, not faked."

"I don't think any of us really wants to die. Kelly. though, has said she wouldn't mind dying if it happens while she's doing something she likes. She made a point that we could die anytime. If she dies while making a film like this, that's okay."

"Wow," Leanne said softly.

"Well," Tyra said with a smile, "that goes for me, too. Although Renee hasn't said as much, I think she feels the same. So, to get back to my question, are they going to kill us this weekend?"

"No," Leanne said. "They were planning on doing it next week. They were going to tell all three of you next Tuesday, but after talking with Carol..."

"Danii's mom?"

"Yes. We talked with Carol and she convinced us to talk to you this Saturday. That's part of the reason for the party this weekend."

"Why tell us sooner?"

"Well," Leanne said, "things have changed a bit. The lady who hired Jim and Arnie to make this movie wants me, Kelly's mom, and Renee's mom to be the ones that kill you."

"Wow," Tyra said excitedly. "You are going to cut my head off?"

"We haven't decided yet," Leanne said. "Jim needs an answer by Monday and we wanted to talk to you girls to get your thoughts on it."

"I think that if it's going to happen, I'd like you to do it," Tyra said.

"There is another change," the mother said. "If the mothers - me, Lauraine, and Monique - want to, we can be killed as part of the movie. They'll pay a lot more if we do that."

"But you'd be dead. Who would get the money?"

"We can select someone we know to receive the money. If I do it, I think I'm going to do it and give the money to Carol. She's been a great friend and I really appreciate the help she's given me."

"What about Renee's mom and Kelly's mom?"

"That," Leanne said, "will depend on how the girls respond when their mothers tell them. Everything will be discussed on Saturday night."

"Hmm. Okay."

"One last thing. After the party at Carol's, we'll go to the studio and stay there until the filming is over."

"You mean that we won't leave the studio again. Not while we are alive, at least."

"Yes, kiddo. That is exactly what I mean. Can you forgive me?"

Tyra thought about it for a few minutes before responding. The silence was frightening and Leanne was near tears when the 10-year-old replied.

"No," Tyra said. "There's nothing to forgive. I love you, Mommy."


"CBS," Bernadette said as she answered the ringing phone.

"Bernadette, it's Carol."

"Oh, hi, Carol. How are you doing?"

"I am doing okay, but I need to ask a favor. Are you free this weekend?"

"Hell yeah," the receptionist answered. "My loser of a boyfriend traded me for a newer model. He picked up this 19-year-old whose bust size exceeds her IQ."

"That's funny, but Darren was never too happy about playing second fiddle to you. He knew that you were the smarter of you two and he felt threatened."

"Trust a shrink to have an opinion on everything....."

"Hey, professional hazard."

"Anyway," Bernadette said, "yes. I am free this weekend."

"What about Jim and Arnie?"

Bernadette thought for a moment. Something was up.

"I don't know," she said. "Why?"

"I am arranging a weekend sleepover at my place this weekend and would like you three to join us."

"Who is 'us'," the receptionist asked.

"Oh," Carol said, "just me, Leanne and Tyra Fastenne, Monique and Renee Dupois, and Lauraine and Kelly Green."

"Why do I get a funny feeling about this sleepover, Carol?"

"Because, my dear friend, you are wiser than your age would indicate? Because you know me? Because you recognize the names of my guests? All of the above?"

"That last one sounds about right, Carol. I also get the feeling that Jim and Arnie may want to attend; especially if you're planning what I think you're planning."

"What would that be, Bernie?"

"I think you may be planning to reveal some secrets to our young actresses."

"Could be," Carol said with a chuckle.

"Jim and Arnie won't be pleased, Carol. Is this wise?"

"None of this is wise, Bernie. I've learned some things this last month that make me sick. These secrets, however, need to be revealed before Leanne, Lauraine, and Monique make some necessary decisions."

Bernadette knew everything that went on at the studio. She knew about the client's offers to the mothers and knew that these offers were what precipitated the sleepover.

"The guys are still here. I'll go ask them if they can make it."

"Thanks. Everyone will be coming to my place after shooting wraps tomorrow. The barbecue'll start at 6:00pm."

"I'll be right back, Carol. Let me go ask them."


"Jim," Bernadette said as she entered the studio.

The men were cleaning up the studio and setting it up for the next day's shoot.

"What is it, Bernie," Jim asked.

"Carol Naylor is on the phone."

"What does she want?"

"She's inviting us to a sleepover at her place this weekend."

Jim and Arnie had know Carol for years and had attended barbecues at her house. A sleepover, though? This was a new one.

"A sleepover," Jim asked with a chuckle. "Tell her I said thanks, but I'll pass. Tell her I'll call her next week."

"You may want to change your mind," Bernadette said, "when you hear who else will be there."

"Who," Jim asked distractedly, the conversation slipping down on the list of priorities.

"The Fastennes, DuPois', and the Greens."

Jim's attention snapped back immediately.

"What," he asked.

"Our three little actresses and their mothers," she answered.

Jim was immediately out of the studio and in the front office.

"Hello, Carol," he said, picking up the phone. "I hear you have an interesting gathering planned for this weekend."

"I do," Carol said with a chuckle. "I'd like you, Arnie, and Bernadette to spend the weekend here if you can. There will be other guests, but I get the feeling Bernie told you that."

"Yeah," Jim said in a disgruntled tone. "What are you planning, Carol?"

"I plan on bringing everything out into the open."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'll tell the girls how this movie is to end."

"You can't, Carol. I need them to be willing participants in the next two days' filming."

"You shouldn't worry about that, Jim. You produce these films but don't really understand your actresses. You've underestimated what you have created in Tyra and possibly Danii. I believe your actresses'll still be willing when they know everything."

"And if they aren't?"

"Well, Jim, I know you were planning on telling them by next Tuesday. This means that you'll need a holding facility to hold them to prevent them from running should they get cold feet."


"Well, instead of confining them from Tuesday, you'll move it up by three days and start their confinement on Saturday instead. Also, with five women and two men, I think we can handle three little girls if they react badly."

"But why, Carol?"

"Well, Jim, it's really your fault. Well, yours and Miss Salisbury's?"

Jim felt like he had been kicked in the gut.


"Come on, Jim. I've known Elaine Salisbury for years. This offer you made the mothers earlier this week is right up her alley. Also, how many women can afford the money being offered and have a fetish for little girls in pain?"

"Do the others know?"

"No. And they won't hear it from me. Your client has good reason to desire her anonymity and I'm enough of a professional that I can't see 'outing' her. Anyway, the offer you made requires input from your actresses and that means they need to know everything."

"You know, Carol; as much as you've helped me in the past, I could wish that you weren't a psychologist."

"I can understand that. There are times when I'm not happy about it, either."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Jim. At least not now. When this is over, you and I will need to sit down and discuss some things. Don't worry about it now, but, I can't say more about it at the moment."

"Okay," Jim said.

He'd heard that tone in her voice before. It said that Carol's heels had dug in and no more information would be forthcoming.

"So, I can expect you, Arnie, and Bernie by 7:00pm on Friday?"

"I don't know about Arnie, but Bernadette and I will be there."

"Thanks, Jim. I'm sorry about bullying and threatening you, but this is important."

"I know, Carol. We'll see you tomorrow night."

"Thanks again, Jim. Bye."


Filming ~ Day 5

At 7:00am, Bernadette unlocked the studio and began preparing the equipment for the day's shoot. She was more than a little concerned about Carol's sleepover but trusted her friend. When Bernadette's brother was killed in an accident, Carol had been invaluable in her support.

Her boss, Jim, was less pragmatic. He'd really thought that he could keep the girls in the dark until the middle of the next week. He wasn't doing this to hurt the girls. He truly thought that they'd suffer less if they didn't have to think about it.

Carol obviously knew something that changed the dynamics of the situation. Something she'd learned in the last month scared her. That was very clear and Carol would only reveal it when she felt it was appropriate. That, obviously, wouldn't be this weekend as the little girls would be there.


Jim arrived at the studio at 7:30am. The lights in the studio were lit so he knew Bernadette was there. Driving around to the back of the studio, he parked next to his receptionist's car.

He was in a troubled state. He knew Carol had a good grasp on things and her people skills were extraordinary. If she said the girls needed to know about the film's conclusion ahead of schedule, then they needed to know. Moving up the plans on the holding facility, however, was going to be a pain.

Looking into the studio, he saw Bernadette prepping the equipment. She was definitely a great find for Jim. No task was unreasonable, according to Bernie. If it needed to be done, it'd be done. If she was the first one into the studio, she'd do it. She just didn't understand why anyone would procrastinate.


"Hey, Bernie," Jim said as he walked into the studio. "Have you heard anything from Arnie, yet?"

Arnie had left while Jim was talking with Carol the night before. Therefore, Jim had to call him to discuss the sleepover. Unfortunately, the call went straight to voicemail.

"Yes," she said. "He won't be able to attend as he has to go to his sister's wedding tomorrow afternoon and he has a flight to leave around 5:30pm, tonight."

"Damnit," Jim cursed. "I'd forgotten about that."

"Well, boss. It looks like it's just me and you representing the studio at Carol's this weekend."

"Did you know that Carol knows our client?"

"Now that you mention it, yes. They were both on the PTA a few years ago. Why?"

"Apparently, Carol knows that Elaine is backing the film."



"Come on, boss. You know she won't say anything to anyone."

"Not even our actresses or their mothers?"

"Even them. You may not know it, but Carol went through some rough times when we were in college. And before you ask, no; I won't go into details. Let's just say her privacy was compromised and she's since become an ardent supporter of privacy protection."

"That being said, Carol would never break a trust. She won't reveal details about Elaine unless Elaine gives permission. That permission would need to come from Elaine in person and be offered directly to Carol. Carol takes no chances on this."

"Well, that makes me feel a bit better. I can't afford to anger Miss Salisbury. She wants to remain anonymous."

"And Carol will keep quiet about this."

"Good," Jim said, feeling slightly relieved. "Let's get to work. Our starlets will be arriving soon and we have a long day ahead of us."

"Yes, boss."


"Salisbury residence," said the voice.

"Hello, Alice. This is Carol Naylor. Is your mistress in?"

"Good morning, Miss Naylor. Yes, the Mistress is in. I will get her for you."

"Thanks, Alice."

Alice had once thought to protect Elaine from early morning disturbances from everyone. In the case of Carol Naylor, that backfired on her. Apparently, there was a close connection between Elaine and Carol.

Elaine had been less than pleased when a call from Carol had been blocked. There was now a standing order that any time Carol called, Elaine was to be notified immediately; regardless of what she was currently doing. Alice had been mortified to discover that that included sex.

Arriving at the master bedroom, she knocked on the door.


Elaine had been up for an hour. She'd always been an early riser. She enjoyed an early morning bath. It always seemed to make her day smoother. She'd been soaking in the tub, reading a psychological journal that was published bi-weekly.

She could've been a psychologist. She had the doctoral degree. She liked using the skills she'd picked up in college. People were fascinating. It was fun to discover the motivations behind peculiar behavior. Her skills allowed her to probe and gather information without appearing to collect data. She was subtle.

When she heard the knock, she stifled a surge of irritation. Alice knew better than to intrude this early. If she was knocking, however, something must be up. Elaine would wait for an explanation before snapping at the housekeeper.

"Come in, Alice," Elaine said.

There was no question who it was, after all. She and Alice were the only ones in the house.

"A phone call for you, Mistress," Alice said as she entered the room. "A Miss Carol Naylor."

Elaine's irritation fled. It had been months since she'd spoken with Carol. Far too long, Elaine thought. She thanked Alice and took the phone.

"Good morning, Carol," Elaine said cheerfully. "I'm glad to hear from you."

Elaine and Carol had met in medical school. Elaine was a year ahead of Carol, but Carol's brilliance allowed her to catch up to her upperclassman. They'd spent many nights arguing philosophy over cups of coffee.

By the time Elaine was ready to graduate, the two had been fast friends and lovers. Their sexual relationship ended when Elaine graduated, but they'd remained close friends ever since.

"It's been too long," Carol said, echoing Elaine's train of thought. "I'm sorry I haven't called for so long."

"It's okay, Carol," Elaine said. "My arm hasn't been broken. I'm equally at fault for not calling you."

"I will assume you were busy, as I was. In such case, there's no fault."

"Ever the mediator, eh Carol?"

"You know me," Carol replied. "I dislike disharmony."

"Methinks you understate your attitude," Elaine said with a smile. "But, anyway, how are you?"

"Well, Elaine, that is a question, indeed."


"Do you have time free this morning? I'd like to sit and talk with you in person."

Elaine was busy, but there was something in Carol's tone that suggested that rescheduling might be a good idea.

"I do," she said after a moment. "Do you want to come over around 10:00am?"

"That sounds wonderful," Carol said with a sigh.

Elaine's curiosity was certainly piqued. Carol obviously had some pressing reason to request a meeting.

"Ok, then," the older woman said. "I'll see you in two hours."

"I'll see you then," Carol said. "Thanks, Elaine."


"Alice," Elaine said. "Please call Mrs. Worthington and reschedule our meeting."

"Yes, Elaine," Alice said.

"Also, clear my schedule for the rest of the day. Reschedule everything for some time in the next two weeks."

Alice nodded and left to make the necessary phone calls.

Although the woman was a housekeeper by title, she was actually much more. A former military officer with experience with counter-intelligence and administration, Alice was a housekeeper, bodyguard, and personal assistant.

The housekeeping was more of a cover as Elaine had a housekeeping service in twice a week to do almost all of the housekeeping chores. Anyone who knew Elaine assumed she was sleeping with Alice as Elaine was quite promiscuous and openly bisexual.

Alice's real duties involved data collection and managing Elaine's busy schedule. Although the woman didn't work, she was a member of the Board of Directors for a few companies.

While Alice took care of clearing the day's appointments, Elaine showered and thought about Carol Naylor.

The two met in medical school. Both wanted to be psychologists. Their reasons were quite different, though. Carol honestly wanted to help people. Elaine wanted to better understand people. Helping them was secondary.

Elaine had some less-than-conventional interests. She liked dominating people. She wasn't a monster, however. She took delight in dominating only those who truly wished to be dominated. This is where her medical training came into play.

She wanted to better understand her desires. She'd imagined that she'd become this way due to overbearing parents. The fact was that they may have played a part in all of it, but Elaine was more of the opinion that she simply enjoyed causing pain and embarrassment.

Her attitudes towards others generally discouraged people from forming friendships with her. Carol had been the exception. Elaine had played with her when the younger woman arrived at medical school. Carol, however, had no submissive tendencies.

Despite that, the younger woman also had no interest in dominating anyone. The one thing that set Carol apart - other than her ridiculously high IQ and incredible memory - was that, despite her advantages, she never put on airs. She never insulted or acted condescending to another student.

Carol also had a most talented tongue and set of fingers. It didn't matter what mood claimed Elaine. Carol always was able to get her upperclassman off with the most exquisite orgasms.

Their romantic relationship ended when Elaine graduated. She'd found a boyfriend in her final year and went to work in his father's company as the head of Human Resources. It wasn't until she received the job offer that she realized her boyfriend was extremely wealthy. He'd wanted to be loved for who he was; not his money.

In Elaine's case, knowing wouldn't have made a difference, but Alfred held his father in contempt. There was bad blood there and Alfred shunned anything that could link him to his sire. To that end, he lived the life of a poor student while attending medical school.

The two married two years after graduation and when Alfred died three years ago, Elaine received three hundred fifty-seven million dollars and the deed to the house in which she lived. Alfred was an only child and both parents had died in an automobile accident the year before. There was no contestation to the terms of the will.

Elaine and Carol had maintained their friendship. Alfred knew about their relationship in college and felt no jealousy toward Carol. He loved his wife and, despite his willingness to allow extramarital relations between his wife and others, she never voiced or acted on any interest in such directions.

After his death, Carol and Elaine resumed their sexual flirtations. Carol had become an extremely talented psychologist and was vital to Elaine's mental stability after her beloved husband's passing.

When Carol had called, Elaine heard - or thought she heard - some tension in the younger woman's voice. Something was troubling the woman and Elaine would do much - almost anything - to help her friend. Clearing a day's meetings was a small price to pay for helping Carol.


Carol pulled up in front of the mansion at 9:45am. She did not like being too early, but absolutely hated being even the slightest bit late. She was not entirely sure Elaine was going to take this well, but Carol felt it needed to be said.

Elaine's response would determine the fate of their friendship. Carol was not going to try to stop this film, but she hoped their discussion would convince her friend to stop supporting child bondage.


"Good morning, Miss Naylor," Alice said as she opened the door.

The housekeeper had seen Carol pull up but knew Carol well enough to know that she'd wait until the scheduled time to knock on the door. Alice hadn't been wrong.

"Good morning, Alice," Carol said. "I thought we agreed that you would call me 'Carol'."

"I am sorry, Miss Naylor, but I distinctly remember telling you that to do so would be improper. As you are my mistress' guest, it is not right that I should address you by your first name."

"So you did," Carol said with a smile. "I'll have to discuss this with Elaine and see if we can change that. I have few friends and would like to consider you one. I'd be honored if you saw me the same way."

Alice said nothing but led the way to the veranda that faced the back yard. She'd had this conversation with Miss Naylor before and the woman still persisted in trying to violate the rules of servant conduct.

"The mistress will be down momentarily, Miss Naylor. Could I get you anything to drink?"

"Get me a brandy, dear, please," Elaine said as she strolled onto the veranda. "If memory serves, Carol would prefer bourbon."

Alice didn't wait for further comment from Carol, but immediately went to the liquor cabinet to prepare the drinks.

"Isn't it a bit early to be drinking, El?"

Elaine tried - unsuccessfully - to smother a smile. Carol was one of three people who could get away with using that nickname. The other two, her sister and brother, really couldn't get away with it, but that never stopped them from needling her with it.

"Who gives a fuck," Elaine asked.

"And when did you join the Navy," Carol replied raising an eyebrow at the language.

"Shut up, bitch," the older woman said with a chuckle.

Around most people, Elaine had a very refined tongue. Her language and vocabulary were clean enough to serve at tea with European royalty. Around Carol, however, she could relax and simply enjoy the laid-back atmosphere.

"You were being mysterious on the phone. You call me at 8:00am when you know I usually refuse calls before 9:00am. Then, to top it off, you don't wish to discuss the reason for your call over the phone, but want to meet in person."

"Now, I don't mind, Carol," Elaine continued with a smile. "but you have to admit; all of it points to a rather serious concern. I'm not entirely sure I wish to be completely sober for this discussion."

Carol chuckled. Elaine was no stranger to drink. She could outdrink anyone Carol knew. If the older woman wished to be drunk, it would require a hell of a lot more than one brandy.

Alice had left the two women alone on the veranda so they could enjoy a nice private chat. This pleased Carol. The younger woman didn't know how much the housekeeper knew, but didn't want to be the one to let the cat out of the bag.

"I wanted to discuss the film you commissioned," Carol said.

"What film," Elaine asked, her attention immediately rivited on her friend.

"The film you asked Jim and Arnie at CBS to make for you. The one dealing with three young actresses."

Elaine was suddenly pissed. Jim and Arnie had promised to keep her name out of the film. It was all legal and above-board but she had a reputation that could be hurt by her involvement in the snuff film.

"Don't blame Jim and Arnie," Carol said. "they never mentioned you by name. They only told the actress' mothers that the film was commissioned by a woman."

"Then how did you find out it was me," Elaine asked disgustedly. "How long have you known?"

"I just received confirmation just now. I was operating on a hunch that it was you. You just told me that it was."

"You bitch," Elaine said. "That was sneaky as hell."

"Well, to be fair, I already had most of the data. All I needed was confirmation. I wasn't likely to get it from Jim or Arnie. They're professionals and know the value of anonymity."

"You were always into the BDSM scene. I can't recall how many films you dragged me to when we were in school. We'd talked more than once about the short step from bondage to snuff."

"Add in the fact that you have more than enough money to procure tailor-made films and you were my prime suspect. Don't worry, though. I'm enough of a professional to remain silent concerning your participation."


This wasn't good. Elaine had been sure that her participation in the film would never be discovered. That it was Carol Naylor who found out made it a little better, but not by much.

"I suppose you're here to ask me to cancel the film," Elaine said hesitantly.

"Not at all," Carol said, sadly. "I think this film needs to be made."


Carol sighed heavily.

"I've learned some things these last few weeks; things that have me deeply disturbed."

Reaching down, she pulled a manila folder from her bag and handed it to Elaine. Motioning for the other woman to open the folder, Carol took a sip of her drink.

"What is this," the older woman asked before opening the folder.

"Very interesting reading," Carol replied. "It won't take you too long to read it, so please do so. What I have to say requires you to understand the contents of that folder."

Carol was being mysterious again. Elaine hated that. The damned woman was a friend but she had the uncanny ability to really piss someone off.

On the other hand, Carol never did anything without reason. If she said that Elaine needed to read something, that was good enough for Elaine. There were many who had suffered because they did not follow her recommendations.

Flipping open the folder, Elaine began to read.


Closing the folder, Elaine was shocked to discover two hours had passed. It certainly didn't feel like it. Carol understated things when she called the material 'interesting reading'. Elaine was shaken to the core and felt absolutely filthy.

"Have you shown this to anyone else?"

"Not yet," Carol replied. "I started that research after Danii failed the audition for your film."

"Your daughter? Good lord, Carol!"

"I know. We had no idea what the film was about. I certainly would've turned down the role once the particulars came out."

"Then why do you say the film needs to be made?"

"The actresses in the film have already progressed to the self-infliction stage. Even without being in a film, they'd continue to inflict pain on themselves."

"Eventually," Carol continued, "the odds will catch up with them and they will, most likely, become part of the 90%. The film is, in a way, an end to their suffering. An end to the parents' suffering."

"How sure are you of that percentage?"

"Reasonably sure. I interviewed the friends and families of fifty former actors and actresses. I've researched the deaths of over 500 actors and actresses."

"In almost all cases, the death was self-inflicted; either through conscious decision or by an accident related to the self-infliction of pain."

"And you think the Child BDSM industry is to blame?"

"I do. Like I said, I interviewed the families of former performers. What I found is that they almost all start out the same way."

"A well-meaning parent - mother or father - takes the child to an audition. The child passes without being told what they will be doing in the film."

"The producers woo the parent with offers of good pay, and - after discussing the details of the film - assure the parents that the pain will be minimal. Staged, mostly."

"During the filming, the child is heavily praised for cooperating with the filmmakers. Thus, the conditioning begins. For the first few films - maybe three or four - they stick to the 'mild' bondage themes."

"During this time, however, the children are encouraged to associate pain with pleasure. After a while, the desire for the pain is no longer merely a part of the act, but a real desire."

"In between films, the performers start to experiment with masochism. The pain becomes a drug; one almost as addictive as nicotine, alcohol, or heroin."

"The children, because the cognitive abilities are not fully developed, cannot see where their behavior is leading them. They think receiving pain gives them the necessary skills to inflict pain."

"They're wrong and it catches up with them. They have the equivalent of a drug 'overdose'. They misjudge the severity of their actions and end up killing themselves inadvertantly."

Elaine was crying by now. Carol had done her crying before and now she was able to keep herself under control. Rising, the younger woman retrieved Elaine's glass and refilled their drinks.


Elaine was deeply troubled. Between the data in the envelope and Carol's reasoning, it truly appeared that the child bondage industry, itself, was to blame for the untimely deaths of many of its performers.

Add into the mix the fact that Carol's daughter, Danii, was a performer for these films, and it painted a terrible picture for the younger woman. Elaine could not begin to imagine the pain these findings had caused her friend. Knowing that you were guilty of corrupting your own child...

"What do you propose, Carol?"

"Well, for your actresses, it's likely already too late. As I've said, they're already inflicting severe pain on themselves to feed their cravings."

"It's conceivable that psychiatric help could help them, but the evidence suggests that the success rate is very low; maybe as low as 1%."

"In addition, the actresses likely already know what fate has in store for them. I know that Tyra already knows she won't survive next week's shooting. Tyra's fairly sure that Kelly and Renee also know."

"We - the actresses, the mothers, Jim, and Bernadette - are having a weekend retreat at my place starting tonight. We'll have fun at the pool and have a barbecue. Probably even have a bonfire."

"It won't all be fun and games, though. Tomorrow afternoon, all of us will sit down and explain, in detail, what the little girls face next week."

"If the girls respond well and accept the idea of their mothers killing them, the mothers will likely accept both offers. They'll kill their daughters and then be killed, themselves."

Carol took a sip of her drink and sat back, letting Elaine think about what the younger woman had said. Elaine was lost. She didn't know what to do. Everything Carol had said pointed to the idea that the movie should be abandoned. On the other hand, Carol had also said that the movie should be completed.

"Carol," Elaine said, shaking her head in confusion, "I'm completely lost. You show me this information condemning the child bondage industry yet say that we should continue with the movie. I just don't get it."

"This movie concept is a timebomb. It's going to happen sometime. The sooner it happens, the sooner we can do something to prevent further movies. Elaine, if I can, I am going to change the industry."

"Right now, it's possible that other studios have noticed the opportunities presented by this bill. It won't be long before other movies are in production."

Seeing Elaine's sudden realization, Carol continued.

"I know what you're thinking. We could give up on the film and go after the bastards that make the next one. The problem is that the different studios are more extreme."

"With Jim and Arnie, the girls will go willingly. They'll beg to be killed. If I don't completely miss my mark, they'll want to be tortured prior to their deaths."

"Once the movie is completed and shown, we'll begin to attack the industry, showing where it leads. I know more than a few congressmen and congresswomen who have children in the industry. They'll support us."

"Carol," Elaine said. "It is too big. You will never convince them to shut down the BDSM industry."

"I'm not trying to shut it down; just change it. Frankly, I don't even care about the snuff side of it. What I'd like are age restrictions or psychological evaluations."

"I want documentation from a licensed professional stating that the child is cognizant of the consequences of their actions. I would prefer that BDSM and snuff be limited to anyone 16 years old or older."

"By that point in their development, they'll have a better understanding of consequences. They may still decide to take part in BDSM, but it will be a more-informed decision."

Elaine thought about it for a while as she sipped her drink.

"You know, Carol," she said after a few minutes, "I have friends in Congress as well. A few hundred years ago, they used to have age restrictions on lots of things: alcohol, tobacco, movies, games, and more. This may work."

"That is what gave me the idea," Carol replied. "When the global economy collapsed in 2025, it took almost 150 years to oust the anarchists and re-establish the rule of law. A lot of what was in place prior to the collapse is still being rediscovered."

"Anyway," Carol said as she rose to her feet, "thank you for listening to me, Elaine. I really need to go, now. I need to prepare for my guests. You're welcome to come as well, you know."

"I appreciate that, Carol. I really do, but I think it would be inappropriate for me to be there."

"I disagree," Carol argued, "but I do see your point. Jim and Arnie will be in contact with you concerning the decisions made this weekend."

Leaving the older, troubled, woman staring at her back yard, Carol left to prepare for the sleepover.


The guests started arriving at 6:30pm. Leanne and Tyra were the first to arrive. The Fastennes gratefully accepted drinks (wine for Leanne and a soda for her daughter).

The two adult women talked while Tyra, encouraged by Carol, stripped off and jumped into the pool. Tyra loved to swim. The only problem was that she would be naked.

The little 10-year-old hadn't brought a swimsuit. After being nude in front of the camera crew all week, the little girl had no problem running around sans clothing. She was just afraid Carol might object.

Carol had no problem with that. As far as she was concerned, this was a clothing-optional zone this weekend. Anyone who wished to go naked was perfectly welcome to do so.

Tyra hadn't been convinced until Carol stripped out of her own clothes and sat beside Leanne in a pool chaise. Looking to her mother for guidance, the little girl was amazed to see her mother follow their host's lead.

The 10-year-old, her fears placated, stripped off and dove into the pool. She was just getting used to the cool water when Renee, Kelly, and their mothers arrived.

Seeing the general dress around the pool, the Dupois' and the Greens stripped, the young girls joining Tyra in the pool while the mothers joined Leanne and Carol in the pool chairs.

"I'm not really sure about this," Monique said. "Aren't Jim, Arnie, and their receptionist..."

"Bernadette," supplied Lauraine.

"...Bernadette - thank you, Lauraine - are't they coming as well?"

"They are," Carol said with a nod. "Trust me, though. This is nothing new to them. Besides, they have seen your naked daughters all this week."

"True," Monique said doubtfully, "but my husband was the only man to see me naked. I am not sure I like being naked in front of Jim and Arnie."

"They're going to kill me next week," Leanne said quietly so the young girls could not hear. "In the face of that, does it really matter if they see me nude?"

"My God," Monique whispered. "Do you think they would require us to be naked when they kill us?"

"I do not know that they would require it, but it would leave less of a mess. This way, they could also donate our clothes without worrying about ruining them with blood."

Monique thought about that for a few minutes. Unlike Carol, Lauraine, and Leanne, Monique was a big woman. She was what once was called 'Rubenesque'. At 5'9", she weighed close to 170 pounds and was a little self-conscious about it.

"Think of it this way," Leanne whispered. "If you do this like I'm going to, you won't be around to see the film and therefore, won't be embarassed by it. You'll be too dead to care."

Monique had been in the middle of sipping her soda and the ridiculousness of it all made her laugh, spraying Leanne with the diet beverage.

"See," Leanne asked, stifling her irritation at her bad timing, "because I am naked, I can just jump into the pool to rinse off. If I had been clothed, I would need to wash this outfit simply because I had bad timing."

The other women laughed as Leanne jumped into the pool.

"Seriously, Monique," Carol said. "There is nothing wrong with how you look. There is nothing to worry about. You were naked with us the other night. I understand that Jim and Arnie are guys, but they're good guys."

"She's right," Leanne said as she returned from the pool. "I've known Jim and Arnie for years. With some of the other producers, I'd be right there with you, but Jim and Arnie are sweet. Trust us."

Monique did trust these women. She wasn't really sure when that started, but there it was. Seeing Lauraine strip down and jump in the pool, she decided to just go with it. She removed her clothing and joined the girls and women in the pool.


When Bernadette and Jim pulled up at Carol's house, they noticed that they were the last to arrive.

"You ready for this," Bernadette asked her boss.

"Are you kidding? The only reason I'm going with this is because I know Carol and she's probably right. The girls may already know that this is a snuff film. If so, I want to hear what they think of it. I want to know what we can do to make it easier on them."

"I've known Carol for years and if she says they know, they do. The fact that they want to talk rather than pull out is encouraging."


Finding the front door unlocked - as Carol had told Bernadette it would be - the two entered Carol's house and, after locking the door behind them, went through the house to the pool in the back yard.

The unclothed nature of the pool's occupants might have surprised Jim, but Bernadette - without hesitation - stripped off and joined the rest in the pool. After a startled moment's delay, Jim followed suit.


Saturday evening, as Carol was checking on the barbecue, the three mothers, their daughters, and the movie director sat at the picnic table and discussed the topic of the hour.

"So," Jim started hesitantly, "I understand we have an inequality of expectations and understanding."

"Huh," Kelly asked, puzzled.

"I understand you may know more about this film than I've mentioned."

"Oh," Tyra said with a sweet smile. "You mean like the fact that you're going to kill us?"

The three girls giggled at Jim's uncomfortable wince at the abrupt revelation.

"Yes," Bernadette said, taking the lead. "When did you figure it out?"

"We overheard someone say something," Tyra said. "After talking about it, we decided that it isn't a bad way to die."

"Someone," Jim asked. "Something? Who did you hear and what did they say?"

Renee shook her head with a shy smile.

"We can't tell you about that," the little black girl said. "We weren't frightened off and we don't want the person or people involved to get into trouble."

"We understand the threat to your business, Jim," Carol said. "If this had turned out badly, then I'd fully back your decision to sack the guilty party. The truth is, though, that this revelation has allowed your little actresses to convince their mothers to go through with this project."

"If you feel the need to say something," Leanne said, "do it in front of the entire staff and issue a warning concerning any further loosening of tongues. The guilty party or parties may, or may not, reveal themselves with guilty behavior. They will, however, get the point, so please don't punish them this time."

Jim wasn't happy with it, but, as Carol had said, it'd only made the production easier this time. As Leanne mentioned, though, a warning was warranted as it could have gone badly.


After dinner and dessert - an apple pie Carol had made that day - everyone sat by the pool. Jim still had more he felt they needed to discuss.

"You're not scared about all this," he asked the little girls, mentally kicking himself for possibly wrecking the whole thing.

"More nervous than scared," Renee said. "I understand that you'll be cutting our heads off. Is that correct?"

"Well," Jim said hesitantly, "that's mostly correct. Your heads'll be cut off. If you agree, however, it'll be your own mother who does it."

"Really," Kelly asked excitedly as she turned to Lauraine. "You're going to cut my head off, mommy?"

Lauraine looked uncomfortable with her daughter's excitement about dying by her mother's hand.

"Yes, dear," the mother said to the little redhead. "If that's what you want, then yes. I will."

"Fuck, yes," Kelly said ecstatically before looking sheepishly at her mother. "Sorry for swearing, mommy."

The adults laughed at the incongruity of a little girl being afraid of her mother hearing her swear when the mother had just promised to kill the little munchkin.

"It's okay, kiddo," Lauraine said, smiling at her daughter reassuringly. "I've been using that word a lot this week, myself."

The other two girls agreed to their mothers performing the deed. They weren't as excited about it as Kelly, but they did seem pleased at the prospect of their mothers killing them.

The conversation turned to the rest of the filming. Having the girls agree to die willingly took a lot of pressure off of Jim, but there were other concerns to discuss, as well.

"Okay," he said, turning to his actresses and their mothers, "that's settled. Thank you, little ladies. I really appreciate your cooperation in this. There is, however something else we need to discuss."

The little girls looked to him, puzzled.

"The ending is set. The build-up, however, isn't. This week, we gave you a taste of torture. You, Kelly, and you, Renee, are new to this so you may not know, but, as Tyra has probably told you, we are a bit more extreme than previous films."

"This is because you need to look hurt when the end comes. You need to act like the end is a release. You accept it because it will end the pain."

"I think I understand," Renee said. "It is like when the doctor put Chelsea to sleep after she caught cancer."

"Chelsea," Jim asked.

"Our pet cat," Monique said. "She had leukemia and was put to sleep by the vet."

"Yeah," Renee agreed sadly. "She was in a lot of pain and the doctor said that it would be a mercy to kill her quickly rather than let her live for a long time with incurable pain."

"Very good," Carol said, entering the discussion. "It is very much like that."

"Yes," agreed Jim. "We are going to hurt you. We are going to hurt you more than you have ever been hurt before. You will be cut, bruised, and bloody when your mothers cut your heads off."

Kelly was almost bouncing with delight.

"Are you gonna break our bones," she asked excitedly. "You going to break our fingers and toes, our arms, legs, or ribs?"

Jim was stunned. This little girl was a serious masochist.

"If you would like, sweetheart," he said, slowly, "we will. But be aware. This will be an incredible amount of pain. Once we start, we will not stop. Do you understand?"

Kelly was so excited, she could not speak. She just nodded vigorously.

"And you two," he asked, turning to Tyra and Renee. "Do you want this as well?"

"I don't know about breaking bones," Renee said, "but I would like to be cut up. I used to cut myself and I loved it. You can cut me anywhere. My cunny, my butt, anywhere."

"Jim," Tyra said. "I prefer amputation. Do you think we coud do something like that?"

"I do," he replied after a moment's consideration. "If you three are certain, we can accommodate all your wishes."

"When do we start," Kelly asked. "Tonight?"

"No," Jim said. "We will start on Monday. You three will be split up for your tortures. Because you will be visibly hurt, you won't be able to leave the studio. Once you get there Monday, you won't leave until we carry out your dead bodies."

"Okay," the redhead said agreeably.

Jim had talked to the parents earlier and they agreed to leave out the bit concerning the mothers' demise. As the mothers would not be killed until after all three girls were dispatched, there seemed no point in bringing it up.

"Enough talk," Carol said abruptly, seeing Tyra try to stifle a yawn. "I think it is time for our little actresses to head off to bed. Tomorrow is Sunday and we can play in the pool all day."

Everyone agreed and went to bed.


Sunday passed quickly. The little girls had a terrific time. To the adults, however, the time passed too quickly. Each had their own skewed perspective on the upcoming week.

For Jim, he was beginning to rethink his position on snuff films involving children. He was still a bit squeamish, but he could see how he could live with it. There were other firms that would take advantage and exploit the children and their parents.

Jim, however, saw how the women had changed over the last week. He was certain that a sizable part of that change was due to Carol's influence. Carol could be a pain in the ass at times, but now, he was seeing another side to her.

For Carol, this was a tremendous learning opportunity. After her research, she could see, for herself, the pain and eventual acceptance in the choices the parents made.

She, herself, could never make that choice. Danii was too precious. Monique, Lauraine, and Leanne, however, were given little choice in the matter. The little girls had forced the issue.

The mothers of the actresses were in awe of their daughters. The little starlets were actually looking forward to the pain and suffering the next week would bring, culminating in their deaths at week's end.

Bernadette was intrigued. After talking with Carol, she knew how far these women had come in accepting the choices of their daughters. Two weeks before, they were horrified at the idea of sacrificing their kids to cater to some sickos' entertainment.

Carol, Bernadette could see, was very helpful in bringing the parents around. After their earlier discussions, Bernadette thought Jim and Arnie may need to put Carol on the payroll in a counseling role for parents of their little starlets.

Carol may be able to help identify when the children are going too far. Bernadette did not like it, but it was too late for Kelly, Renee, and Tyra. Hopefully, it was not too late for Danii. Carol may be able to prevent the children from becoming addicted.

Filming ~ Day 6

Monday morning arrived and the three starlets entered the studio, knowing that they would never leave again. The mothers, not quite sure how they felt about it, decided to stay at the studio with their daughters. Jim and Arnie had no problem with that.

The planned schedule had been altered. Jim contacted Elaine on Sunday and both agreed that the girls were going to suffer enough with just beatings. The electricity, fire, and knifeplay had been cancelled. Elaine was severely conflicted. She was willing to call the whole thing off, but Carol had advised that they continue as planned.

The girls were excited. They had been anticipating this since they had heard their fate on Saturday night. Now, they would feel pain like nothing they had ever experienced. They were not sure they wanted their mothers in the room during their torture. That could be weird.

Their mothers knew that they liked pain, but watching their little girls receiving that pain would be difficult. The mothers, without knowing, shared their daughters' feelings. They were not sure they wanted to watch their daughters be abused.

They would be there if their daughters wished it, but it was honestly the last thing they wanted to see. It was odd, really, they were willing to kill their own daughters, but were uncomfortable with watching the little girls receive pain.


Bernadette saw everything and, after talking with Carol, understood more than anyone else. Jim and Arnie were not comfortable with killing children, but the little girls were committed and if the job was left to others, the more sadistic producers could be far crueler than Jim and Arnie.

The parents were conflicted. They would kill their little girls, but were reluctant to watch the torture of the little darlings. Although the mothers were confused over this, Bernadette knew that it was the subconscious understanding that they would be bringing an end to their children's pain. Bringing an end to pain was acceptable. Assisting in the delivery of pain was not.

The little girls knew, at some level, that their mothers were uncomfortable with the idea of watching the preteens as they were tortured. This understanding made them uncomfortable with asking their mothers to watch the infliction of pain on the little starlets.

The sad part was that no one was talking. That was causing serious misunderstanding on the parts of all participants. She was going to have to do something about this or this would be a disaster of gargantuan proportions.


The mothers, daughters, and producers were sitting silently in the studio, drinking their drinks (coffee for the adults, soda for the kids) when Bernadette entered the room.

"Ok," she said, startling everyone else. "This is unacceptable. You all have made some assumptions that may or may not be accurate. We need to talk this out if we wish to proceed."

The others looked at her, amazed at the fierceness of her tone.

"What do you mean," Lauraine asked.

"How we will do this, for one," Bernadette replied. "Do the mothers want to be present while their daughters are filming their scenes? Do the daughters even want their mothers to be there? Are Jim and Arnie sure that they can even do this? Should this be done? You all think you know the answers, but, what if you are wrong?"

She smiled as she saw the others realize that they could be wrong.

"I am going to go talk with the other actors," Bernadette said. "You figure out how you want to do this."


After Bernadette left, Tyra looked at her mother.

"Do you want to be there when they beat me, mommy?"

"Only if you want me there, baby," Leanne replied with a smile. "I will always be there for you."

"If you are doing it only to please me," Tyra said, "then I do not want you there. I like the pain, but I know you don't. I know you are there for me. I know you will do what you need to do at the end of this week. I know you will kill me. I am happy you will do that, but you don't need to watch them hurt me."

Kelly and Renee were nodding in agreement. Monique and Lauraine sighed audibly as they realized that they would not need to watch their beautiful little girls get tortured. Jim was still troubled, though.

"Tyra," Jim said, "Kelly, and Renee, do you really, and I mean really, want to do this? Once we start, there is no turning back. We will hurt you more than you have ever been hurt before. And at the end, your mothers will cut your heads off while you are awake and can feel everything."

The girls just looked at each other for a few moments.

"Yes, Jim," Tyra said as the other little girls nodded in agreement. "We really want this. We are sorry if our mommies don't want to do this. They do not need to kill us. Other people can do it."

"No, baby," Leanne said. "We will do it. It will be the last thing we do together. I love you and would do anything for you."

"I feel the same way," Monique said, looking at Renee.

Lauraine just nodded at Kelly, who smiled back at the older redhead.

"But," Leanne continued, "if you truly don't mind me missing your torture, I would prefer not to be there."

Tyra smiled as she nodded.

"I understand, mommy," she said. "Thank you for allowing me to do this."

Monique and Lauraine talked with their own daughters for a moment before announcing that all mothers fell the same, just as all daughters felt the same. It was unanimously agreed that the mothers would not be present during the torture. When that was agreed, the mothers and daughters turned on Jim.

"Jim," Leanne said. "You know who your competitors are. So do I. If you do not do this, they will be the only alternative. I think we both can agree that working with them would be much, much worse. I know you and I know you will do this right. You have to do this. And if you are approached in the future to do more films like this, you should. You are the right people for this."

Jim, though not happy, agreed with Leanne's analysis of the situation. The other producers were assholes. They only cared about the bottom line. They did not care what their actors wanted as long as they made money.

"Okay," he said. "We will do this. It is ten o'clock now. We will begin at eleven o'clock. We have separate rooms for all three girls. They will be tortured at the same time. The shooting should last about 90 minutes. If you ladies don't mind, could we trouble you to get lunch for us?"

Leanne, Monique, and Lauraine merely nodded.

"Then, we will get our little starlets ready. We will gather here at one o'clock this afternoon for lunch."


Jim pulled up in front of Carol's house at 6:30pm. He had called earlier and Carol had mentioned that Danii was staying at her grandparents longer than originally intended.

Carol had figured that she could be helpful to Jim and the other mothers this week so Danii would not be returning until next Sunday. By then, the shooting would be done. Jim might still need a sounding board, but it would not be anywhere as crucial as it would be this week.

Carol met Jim at the door with a drink in her hand. Jim looked at it for a moment before entering and taking a sip.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," he said.

"What," Carol asked. "Coming over here?"

"No. I am not sure I should be drinking."

"Relax, Jim. It is only one drink. It is intended to help you relax. If you are that concerned, there will be no more."

Jim nodded thoughtfully. Quickly draining his glass, he handed the glass back to Carol.

"Thanks," he said. "I do need to relax, but I cannot afford to get drunk. I need to be able to think tomorrow and I do not bounce back as easily as I did twenty years ago."

"I don't think any of us do," Carol said with a smile. "That's part of what I miss about my twenties. I could drink a fifth of Jack and be absolutely fine the next morning. If I tried that now, I would be a wreck tomorrow morning."

"Same here."

"So, Jim, you sounded quite upset on the phone."

"Uh, you could say that."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"We started the beatings today."


"And," Jim asked incredulously. "This is different from when we were beating other children."

"Of course," Carol replied with a smile. "These beatings are real. This is the first time that you have intentionally caused real, serious harm to children."

Jim hung his head. Carol nailed the issue, as he knew she would. If he decided to continue with this business, he knew Carol would be invaluable in the future. He would need to see if she would consider working for him. She would screen the applicants to see if they were sincere in their willingness to perform in a snuff film.

"Carol, I do not know if I can do this."

"You have to, Jim," Carol said with a sad smile. "If you do not, you know what will happen."

"The other producers will not hesitate to go through with it."

"Exactly. This film is going to happen. At least with you in charge, the little starlets will suffer only as much as necessary. Others will not be as considerate of their actresses."

"But that still does not make it right."

"Jim," Carol said while shaking her head, "in this world, 'right' is not something we see too often. But, consider this. You can make it as 'right' as possible. Tell me about today."

"You know me, Carol. I am not usually squeamish. I have been in this industry for years. I have hurt kids; sometimes severely. While I have never taken pleasure in it, it never bothered me too much, either."


"This is different. I know that in three days, I will be responsible for the deaths of not three, but six beautiful women and girls. The worst part, however, is the joy the kids are taking in the coming event."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I thought it was," he said. "It's funny, though. I knew that Tyra liked the pain. That was obvious from her earlier performances. There is a big difference, however, between embracing pain you know will end eventually and cheerfully taking part in a performance you know will end with your death."

"The girls know this, Jim," Carol said. "They also know, however, that their deaths are inevitable. This past weekend, I spoke extensively with all three of the girls. They have all come to terms with the idea that their fascination with pain will lead them to perform dangerous acts."

"They know that they will likely underestimate the seriousness of their actions and likely kill themselves one day. That is the happy ending, by the way. The bad ending is where they permanently disfigure themselves or leave themselves alive but completely incapacitated."

"So what," he demanded, frustration causing him to scowl. "We have no choice but to kill them ourselves?"

"No," she replied. "You could put an end to the movie. You could give Elaine her money back. To be honest, I do not think she would pursue the idea."

Jim's eyes lit up in delight. That idea had merit.

"But it will not save the girls," she continued. "They will die anyway. Maybe not by your hand, but they will die nonetheless."

He sagged in his seat. Fucking Carol. Why did she always have to be right?

"If you do go through with this movie, though, it will be a clean death. It will be over quickly and there will be no chance of them surviving with seriously crippling side effects."

"In addition," she continued, "we know your competitors. They will not be long in discovering the potential for this kind of film. When they do, how do you think their little starlets will be treated?"

"Fuck, Carol," he moaned. "What am I supposed to do?"

"First, continue with the film. It is too late for everyone involved. Second, prepare to make more of these films. When this industry blossoms, it would be great if there is at least one production company that cares about its little snuff princesses."

"Will you work with me," he asked.

"Of course."

"I do not mean this time only," he said, raising his hand to stop he from committing herself without understanding. "If I am going to do this, I want to run an evaluation on all actresses and and their guardians. I do not want actresses that choose this because they mistakenly believe this is the only future they have."


"If I am going to do this, I want you working for me. I would like you to have an office in my studio where you can interview potential actresses. I will not accept any actresses that do not fit the same profile as Tyra, Renee, and Kelly."

"I agree," she said.

"Then, you'll work for me?"

"Yes, Jim. As long as you understand that I have other clients, I will work for you."

"Done," he said.


Great update. Please keep them coming


Filming ~ Day 7

Jim pulled into the studio's parking lot at 6:30am. After talking with Carol the night before, he felt better about producing this movie. Better, however, didn't mean good. This situation was far more complicated than he'd imagined when Elaine Salisbury offered the money in exchange for the film.

The starlets and their mothers had set up a mini-apartment in one corner of the studio. There was a TV, DVD-player, and game system. There was a microwave, a hotplate, a toaster oven, a refrigerator, and a coffee maker. There were also six cots lined up in two rows of three. The mothers slept in one row and the daughters slept in the other.

Jim thought it made sense and had already considered the idea of adding on to the studio once the week was done. Creating a real apartment on the studio would be a good idea if they were to continue making movies of this sort.

"Good morning, Jim," Tyra said with a smile when he walked into the studio.

Looking around, he saw that there was an odd feel to the environment in this room. The little girls seemed excited but the mothers were disturbed.

"Good morning, Tyra," he said cautiously. "How are you doing this morning? Have you recovered from yesterday's session? Are you ready for today's session?"

"Yes," the little girl said cheerfully. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about today's session."

Jim's gut tightened reflexively. He was pretty sure she wasn't going to ask him to take it easier on her today.

"I know you're planning on killing us on Friday," she said, oblivious to his wince of pain at her tone of eager anticipation, "but what's the plan for today, tomorrow, and Thursday? More beating? That sounds kind of boring."

The other preteens' nods of agreement caused Jim to groan inwardly. This wasn't going to be good.

"That's what we had planned for today and tomorrow," he said. "Thursday, we'll do nothing. I'd like it if you had a little time to rest before the finale on Friday. Is it too much?"

Tyra shook her head. She looked at Renee and Kelly and, receiving nods from both little girls, turned back to Jim.

"It's not enough," she said.

"Not enough," he replied expressionlessly. "What would you suggest?"

"Electricity," Renee said quickly. "I remember seeing a movie where a guy was hung up below a stream of running water and this other guy was hitting him with a sponge connected to a car battery. That looked awesome."

"I was thinking about a more severe beating," Kelly said. "One where you really let me have it. Maybe, you could break my arms or legs. Maybe, you could break my fingers and toes. I saw a movie where this one guy used a hammer to break all the toes of this other guy. That looked so cool."

Jim couldn't believe what he was hearing. Carol had been right. If these girls weren't killed soon, they'd do it on their own by trying to feed their cravings for intense torture. Shaking his head, he turned to Tyra.

"What about you," he asked.

"I want to be dismembered," she said calmly.

"What," he asked incredulously, throwing a questioning glance to Leanne.

"I want to be dismembered," the ten-year-old repeated. "Start with my feet. Cut them off. Then cut off my legs at the knees, and then at the hips."

Jim was speechless. His gaze bounced between the bubbling little girl and her clearly-shaken mother.

"Then," the little girl continued, "do my arms. Cut my hands off at the wrists, then cut off my arms at the elbow, then the shoulders. Leave me with just a head and torso."

Jim walked over, grabbed Leanne, and walked her a little ways away from the girls and the other mothers.

"Is she serious," he asked. "Please tell me she isn't. Please tell me she's just trying to get to me."

"She's serious," Leanne said. "She's been talking about it since you left last night. It gets better, too. Before she dies, she wants me to cut her open from her pussy to her tits. She wants me to pull her guts out before I cut her head off."

"Oh, my god," Jim said in shock.

"The other two seem to be happy with electrocution and severe beating, but Tyra's been dreaming about this for a while."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I've already committed to cutting her fucking head off," Leanne hissed, frustration and concern making her tone harsh. "I can do the rest. Just do me a favor."

"Anything," Jim replied.

"Have someone standing over me when I do it. I want that person to cut my fucking head off immediately after my little girl dies. I don't want too much time to regret what I just did."

"And how'd you like them to do that?"

"Slowly," she said. "Painfully. I want them to use a butcher knife to slash my throat and keep cutting until my head comes free."

"God, damn, Leanne," he said. "You're not kidding about it being painful. I can't even imagine how much that'll hurt. You know the torture part where you mothers were concerned has been eliminated, right?"

"I know, Jim. I appreciate her letting us off lightly, but we all have failed as parents. We were supposed to take care of our children. I consider this my punishment for failing Tyra. Also, it's not too bad. At least, it'll hurt less than living with the knowledge that I butchered my own little girl, Jim."

Jim couldn't really think of anything to say to that, so, saying nothing, he and Leanne returned to the others.


"Okay," he said, "we can do what you wish, but we'll need a little time to set everything up. Now, what, exactly are you hoping for today?"

"Breaking my fingers and toes," Kelly said. "I'd really like that. Tomorrow, we can break all the bones in my arms and legs."

"All the bones?"

"All of them. Shatter them. Not a single break, but many."

"Wow. And you, Renee?"

"Hook up a car battery and shock my titties and cunny. Maybe my tongue, too."

"We can do that."

"I want my hands and feet cut off," Tyra said. "Tomorrow, you can remove my arms and legs. Today, though, just cut all my fingers and toes off one at a time, then cut off the fingerless hands and toeless feet."

Jim shook his head in disbelief. Elaine was getting more for her money than she could've ever imagined. These girls were insane.

"Okay," he said. "This'll take about ninety minutes to set up. We'll have three different rooms; one for each of you. In the meantime, try to enjoy yourselves."


As he was leaving, Monique and Lauraine collared him and pulled him aside.

"We need to talk to you about Friday," Monique said.

"Okay," he said.

"Leanne told us about your conversation while you were talking to the girls. We've talked with our daughters and thought you should know how they want to die."

"Okay," he repeated. "Give me five minutes to get the morning's preparations underway and meet me in my office."


Sitting in his office, Jim reached into his desk drawer, pulled out his aspirin and chewed three of them to powder before taking a drink of beer.

"Aspirin with a beer chaser," Lauraine said as she watched from the doorway. "Are the girls giving you a hard time, Jim?"

"Fuck me, Lauraine," he said. "These girls're nuts. I've done kiddie bondage for a while, but this is insane."

"It gets better," Monique said, joining the redheaded mother. "May we come in?"

"Grab a seat," he said, waving at two empty chairs in front of his desk.

Once they were comfortably seated, Lauraine spoke.

"Kelly's surprising me, Jim. I knew she was into pain, but, as you said, this is crazy."

"Do you want to back out?"

"If I did," she replied sadly, "Kelly'd run and kill herself in the most painful way possible. At least this way, we have some say in how it happens."

"What does she want?"

"She wants me to cut her head off with a pair of hedge trimmers."

"Can you do that?"

"I can," the redhead said sadly. "As you saw this last weekend, I'm fairly strong. I should have no difficulty closing the trimmer blades."

"And what do you want?"

"After it's done, I don't really care. Kill me quickly or slowly; it's up to you. As long as I die, I really don't care how."

"What about Renee, Monique?"

"You won't believe this," the black woman said. "She wants her head blown off."

"Excuse me?"

"She wants explosives placed around her neck. When they go off, her head will be ripped off."

"I don't know anyone who could be that precise."

"I do," Lauraine said. "A friend of mine works in demolitions. He spends most of his time creating shaped charges that channel the force of the explosion. He could create enough to do what Renee wants."

"Okay," Jim said, wiping sweat from his face.

This was going far too easily.

"What should we do after Renee is dead," he asked the black woman.

"Rip me in half."


"What can I say? Renee takes after her mother. Get two pickup trucks, attach chains to their bumpers and to my ankles. Use an axe or chainsaw to split my pelvis and before I die of shock of bloodloss, have the truck-drivers floor it. As they pull away from each other, one will take my left side and one will take my right side."

"Fuck me," Jim said.

"If you'd like, Jim," the black woman said as she started to undress, "I am sure Lauraine and I would have no problem with that."

Lauraine, already out of her pants and blouse, obviously had no problem with it.


Everything was ready within an hour rather than the ninety minutes Jim had expected. The three rooms were all ready and the torturers had agreed to do as each of the little girls had asked.

The mothers decided that they couldn't watch the early tortures of their daughters. This was far more extreme than they'd expected and weren't sure they'd be able to handle it. While the little girls were going through their torments, the mothers had decided to visit Carol. Leanne had called and was pleased to find Carol was available to meet.


The taxi pulled up in front of the Naylor home thirty minutes later. Carol opened the door with a smile and invited the three women into the living room. Minutes later, the four women were seated, each holding a drink drink.

"Leanne mentioned that the girls had some interesting requests," Carol said.

The three women shuddered.

"I'm not sure 'interesting' is adequate," Monique said.

"'Insane', might be a better description," Lauraine added as she took a drink of her soda.

"I also understand that you each had decisions to make concerning your participation."

"Speaking of which," Leanne said hesitantly, "I was wondering if I could make an unreasonable request."

"I don't know that I'll be able to agree, but ask," Carol said.

"After I kill Tyra, I want my own head cut off. I want it done manually."

"Manually," Carol asked.

"The person doing it would need to use a butcher knife to cut my head off."

"That sounds painful. And if the person doing it isn't overly strong, it could take a few minutes."

"I want it to be painful," Leanne said. "And I wouldn't mind my torment lasting for several minutes."

"Jim should be okay with arranging that," Carol said. "How can I help?"

"I would like you to be the one with the knife."

"You want me to be the one to kill you."

"Would you be okay with that," Leanne asked nervously. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd feel much better about it if you were the one to do it."

Carol thought about it. She knew that someone would be killing her friend this Friday, but she wasn't sure that she could do it.

"I don't know, Leanne," she said. "I don't know if I could do it."

"I know," the blonde woman said sadly. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"I'm not saying 'no'," Carol said. "Let me think about it. I'll know by tomorrow."

"I am sorry to interrupt," Lauraine said, "but if you find you are okay with helping Leanne, do you think you could do me as well?"

"I don't know," Carol said. "The main concern I have is doing it on film. I have clients that would be extremely uncomfortable with their doctor killing people."

Everyone nodded. That made perfect sense.

"So, Leanne mentioned some odd requests, but didn't elucidate. Can you tell me what the girls wanted?"

The three women looked at each other and shrugged.

"Tyra wants her hands and feet cut off today," Leanne said.


"And tomorrow, they'll remove her arms and legs."

"Renee'll be electrocuted," Monique said. "She wants them to hook her up to a car battery and shock her tits, pussy, and maybe even her tongue."

"Kelly, like, Tyra, wants her hands and feet destroyed," the red-headed mother said. "They'll use a hammer to break all her fingers and toes. Tomorrow, they'll pulverise her arms and legs."

"That's extreme," Carol said. "I'm sure Jim was uncomfortable with that degree of torment."

"He was," Leanne said. "I think he's even more upset by all this than I am."

"We've known Jim for a while, Leanne. He was okay with the child bondage but that was mostly because he could appear to be causing significant pain while actually avoiding to do so."

"What do you mean," Monique asked.

"Jim's a showman. Like P. T. Barnum. He uses tricks that allowed him to leave impressive-looking welts and bruises. In reality, he rarely ever hurt the girls seriously. There was one movie where Danii looked like she'd been beaten bloody, but there were no serious injuries. In fact, Jim fired one guy when he accidently cut Danii with a whip stroke."

"Why'd he accept this movie assignment, then?"

"Do you remember me telling you about the time Tyra had to go to the hospital after a shoot?"

"Yes," Lauraine said.

"That was caused by Jim's competitors. They don't care about the talent. They only care about the end product."


"And if Jim had turned down the assignment," Carol said, "they would have been offered the job. Jim took the job to make sure it was done with as little pain as possible."

"And now," Leanne said, "our daughters're forcing him to cause unreasonable pain, anyway."

"Poor Jim."

"Exactly," Carol said. "If this production becomes a hit, he's going to be forced to make more of these. This is something that bothers him tremendously. Despite the misogynistic nature of the business, he really loves women and little girls. The last thing he wants to do is really hurt anyone."


Renee walked into the room. It was unlike anything she had ever imagined. There was a gynecologist's chair. There was also a portable car battery charger. On a table beside the chair, there were also scalpels and things that looked like long needles. Walking to the chair, she took a closer look. It had velcro straps used for wrist and ankle restraints.

"Have a seat," a voice said from behind the beautiful black 10-year-old.

Spinning around, Renee saw a tall, slender woman. The woman wore what appeared to be a nurse's uniform, but it was red and made of either leather, or vinyl.

"Who are you," the little girl asked.

Faster than Renee could follow, the woman reached out and struck the child across the face.

"Never mind who I am," the woman said as tears began to form in Renee's eyes, the little girl's hand rising to her stinging cheek. "I said to have a seat. If you're not in that chair in ten seconds, your other cheek will hurt, too."

Not wanting to mess with this woman, Renee scrambled into the chair. The woman used the ankle straps and Renee soon found she couldn't move her legs at all.

"We've already started filming," the woman whispered as she started restraining the little girls arms. "Choose your words carefully."

"My name is Mistress Lilith," the woman said loudly, stepping back from the chair. "We're going to be testing your pain tolerances."

Waving to the table and the battery charger, she continued.

"As I've always been interested in electricity, that's what we'll be using. What you see before you is an industrial battery charger. At first, we thought of using a real car battery and charging cables, but they're bulky and are hard to see around."


There was a resounding crack as Lilith struck the child across the face again.

"Think of this like the military, bitch. The first word and last word from your filthy mouth will be 'Mistress'. Anything else will result in another slap."

"Mistress, yes, mistress," Renee said, more tears forming in her eyes. "Mistress, what are you going to do to me, mistress?"

"At least, you learn quickly," the woman said with a smile. "I'm going to make you scream for me, little one. You'll feel more pain than you've ever imagined."

The woman picked up one of the long needles and showed it to the little girl.

"These're called 'skewers', Renee. I'll push them through your breasts and attach leads from the charger to them."

So saying, the woman grabbed Renee's right nipple and pulled it outward, stretching the little girl's tit flesh. Finding a point an inch to the left of the nipple, Lilith shoved the skewer through the breast, leaving two inches of metal in the little girl. Repeating the process, she placed a skewer an inch to the right of Renee's right nipple.

Renee let out a howl of agony as Lilith attached one of the red cables dangling from the charger to the left skewer. The little girl continued screaming in pain as the woman attached a black cable to the right skewer.

Reaching into her pocket, Lilith brought out a small plastic flip-case. Opening the case. she took out a pair of foam plugs and inserted them into her ears. Jim had been right. This would get painful quickly if she didn't take precautions. Now that the skewers were placed, the pain receded and Renee calmed down a bit.

"Ouch," Renee said with a chuckle. "I wasn't expecting that."

Lilith shook her head in amazement. The pain must have caused the little girl to forget the earlier lesson. Her right hand flashed out and backhanded Renee across the face.

"'Mistress'," Lilith said as the child looked at her in shock. "The first and last word from your filthy mouth must be 'Mistress'."

"Mistress, yes, mistress."

"Better. Now, I know you weren't expecting to have your little titties pierced, but we're not done, yet, slut. Now, we have even more fun."

Reaching down, the torturess gripped Renee's left outer labia and pulled it outward.

"Now," she said, placing the point of a third skewer against the stretched flesh, "we skewer your little pussy lips."

She shoved the skewer in and through the 10-year-old's labia. This time, there was about three inches hidden within the child's flesh. As the screams began anew, Lilith repeated the procedure on the little girl's right outer labia. Without waiting for the child to calm down, she attached the electrical leads; red to the left skewer and black to the right skewer.

"Don't expect sympathy from me, you little cunt," the woman said as the child regained her composure. "You asked to be electrocuted, right? I'm only giving you what you wanted, you foolish child."

Renee had to admit that the woman told the truth. She'd asked to be electrocuted. She hadn't, however, asked to become a human pincushion.

"Mistress," she said. "I did ask to be electrocuted. I just did not expect the needles. Mistress."

Lilith looked at the child. She hadn't said that 'mistress' must be at the beginning and end of each sentence, but only the first and last words out of the kid's mouth.

"Your expectations are irrelevant," the woman said, picking up a remote control. "I've done this for years and this is the most pleasurable way to electrocute someone. Pleasurable for me, of course. I really don't care if you like it. Now that you're all hooked up, we can begin."

After Lilith placed two more skewers in the little girl's left breast and attached the cables, Lilith and Renee looked each other in the eye for a few minutes. Then, the woman pressed a switch on the charger and Renee's world was reduced to alternating pain. First, her left breast, then her right breast, and finally her little cunny.

Renee was in agony. This hurt far more than she'd anticipated. It was odd, though. It was more pain than she'd ever felt in her short life, but it felt good, too. She could really come to like this.

Lilith let the pain course through the little girl's body for a few minutes before switching off the current. She didn't want to permanently damage the child. According to Jim, this girl was in for some interesting times over the next few days.

"Oh," the little girl moaned as the pain ceased. "Don't do that."

Lilith stepped up and backhanded Renee again.

"How many times do I have to remind you," Lilith asked.

"Mistress," Renee said, "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"So, you can remember. That is good to know. Now, did you want me to continue with the electricity? Is that what you wanted?"

She went over to the restrained girl and gripped one of the skewers running through the child's labia.

"Or," she said with a grin. "Is this what you wanted?"

As she spoke, Lilith pulled the skewer out and ran it through the flesh again, eliciting a new howl of agony from the child. Before the child stopped screaming, Lilith pulled the other skewer out and shoved it through again.

After Renee stopped screaming, Lilith gave the child a drink of water.

"Mistress, thank you, Mistress."

"Let's dispense with the 'Mistress' bit," Lilith said. "It's getting old and I am getting tired of hitting you because of it."

"Yes, ma'am," the 10-year-old said. "I appreciate it."

"Do you," Lilith asked. "Are you enjoying this?"

Renee had to think about that for a moment. She enjoyed pain. She was even excited about the prospect of having her head blown off. This, however, was far more than she had been expecting. It hurt a great deal. On the other hand, It really felt good, too.

"I am," the little girl said decisively. "It hurts, but it feels really good, too."

"Which is better? The piercing or the electricity?"

"I cannot say," Renee replied. "I was sure it'd be the electricity, but the feeling when the needles went through my titties and cunny was really good."

"Liked that, did you? Well, tomorrow, we'll go even further. Tomorrow, I'll shove a cattle prod in your little cunny and hit you with a low dosage. I don't want to kill you, after all. It will, however, hurt more than anything you've felt so far."

"In the meantime, however," Lilith continued, "we'll try something else."

With a scalpel she picked up from the table, Lilith made a small cut in Renee's left buttock. Exposing the wire in the red and black cables, she pushed both ends into the little girl's butt cheek.

"Oh, God," Renee said. "That feels weird."

Lilith flipped a switch on the charger and the little girl let out a horrendous howl of agony. Her spasms shook the leads loose and they fell from her ass cheek.

"Damn," Lilith said, switching off the power. "I knew that would happen."

The torturess left the room for a few moments and returned with medical tape. After reinserting the leads, she taped the wires into place, using enough tape to guarantee they wouldn't come out again until she was ready to remove them.

Renee spasmed again as the power was turned on again and the pain returned with a vengeance. Lilith let the girl scream and thrash around for sixty seconds before turning off the power. The 10-year-old was enjoying it. That much was obvious, despite her heart-rending cries of agony.

When Renee had settled down, Lilith removed the leads from the little girl's buttock. She applied a healing salve and a bandage. Because it was such a tiny cut, it wouldn't require stitches; not that it would make a difference in a few more days.


Kelly walked into her room. The first thing she noticed was the silence. Apparently, they'd sound-proofed the rooms. It made sense. This way, they could focus on her torment rather than the torment of the girl in the next room over.

The room held little in the way of furniture. There was a chair and table. The table was on wheels but it looked as though those wheels could be locked. The chair was affixed to the floor with metal tabs sealed with padlocks. Once she was seated, the restraints on the front legs of the chair would be fastened around her slender ankles.

The little redhead was surprised by the lack of arm restraints on the chair. She wondered how they would prevent her from using her hands. One would think that, with her hands free, it would be simple enough to remove the restraints from her legs.

The door opened and a young woman entered. She was tiny; not even close to five feet tall. Kelly wondered if they'd added another girl, but she was disabused of that notion as the woman launched her foot squarely between the ten-year-old's legs.

The pain was excrutiating. The blow to her crotch lifted Kelly from the ground. The pain radiated from her crotch and reached her fingers and toes. Tears streaming down her face, the little girl looked at the woman questioningly.

"Hello, Kelly," the woman said. "My name's Hildy. I'll be torturing you today and tomorrow."

"I know that was a rude way of introducing myself, but I wanted to make sure I had your attention. My appearance sometimes gives the impression of childlike innocence. I am, however, not a child and I'm far from innocent."

"Let me explain my appearance. I am twenty-two years old. I am only four feet, seven inches tall. This is due to a growth deficiency I suffer from because I was born prematurely. I was only six months along when I was born."

"My mother died in a car crash and the doctors struggled to keep me from dying as well. Their efforts paid off and I survived. Because of the trauma, however, I never went through puberty. I have no tits as you can see. On the positive side, though, I don't get periods, either."

"You might wonder why I do this. Well, let me tell you something. With my limitations, there're very few jobs available. I can barely see over countertops so being a cashier is out. I could go to school and get a degree in something, but school costs money and I'm kind of limited in that area, too. Luckily, my uncle Jim gave me this job."

Kelly had finally gotten to her feet. The young woman was carefully standing back. Kelly was not surprised. Hildy was an inch or two shorter than Kelly.

"For such a small person," Kelly said, "you sure kick hard."

"I work out for an hour every day. I run about two miles and bicycle for another five. I also lift weights and work on a speed bag to build up my reflexes and endurance."

"So, if you're going to torture me, how are we going to do it?"

"First, I want you to sit in the chair and fasten those straps around your ankles. Fasten them tightly."

Kelly did. The straps were easy. They were velcro and went around the chair leg and Kelly's ankle eight times before they were finished. Kelly found, to her sudden discomfort, that her legs were really stuck. The lack of arm restraints seemed to make no difference, now. It would take too much time to free her ankles.

Sitting up with a smile, she looked at Hildy.

"Now, what?"

Hildy wheeled the table over. Placing it directly in front of Kelly, the 22-year-old locked the wheels. Reaching underneath the table, the woman pressed a button and the little girl heard a click.

Four posts rose from the table top. Two sets of two were three inches apart and the posts were slanted. The one on the right slanted to the right. The one on the left slanted to the left.

"Place your right wrist between the posts," Hildy demanded.

Kelly complied and watched as Hildy wrapped rawhide cord around the posts, pinning the little girl's hand to the table. Seeing Hildy motioning to the other posts, the 10-year-old placed her left wrists between the posts and that hand, too, was quickly pinned to the table.

Hildy retrieved a large metal plate. It was about three feet long, eight inches wide, and a quarter-inch thick. The woman slid the plate under Kelly's hands and pushed it so it was right against the posts.

"This will prevent damage to the table," Hildy said.

"What are you going to do," Kelly asked.

"I am going to pulp your hands, starting with your fingers. I am going to use a hammer to smash the bones in your fingers and then in your palms. The metal plate will absorb the blows, preventing any damage to the table below."

Kelly paled. Yes; it was what she wanted. She still wanted it, in fact. It was just the reality of the situation getting to her. When this little beautiful demon was done with her, Kelly's hands would be useless. They would be useless for the rest of her life.

"Are you sure you want this," the woman asked. "I've done this to several people and I'm very good at it. You, however, are my first willing victim."

"I want this," the little girl said.

"Good. I like doing this. It gets me so horny, in fact, that when I've destroyed your hand, I intend to use it as a dildo to help me masturbate."

This was intense. Kelly had dreamed about this and she was seriously looking forward to it, but now that the moment was here, she was so excited that she was afraid she would pass out.

After testing the restraints and satisfying herself, Hildy stood in front of the little girl and smiled broadly.

"You look so beautiful like that. Don't go anywhere. I'm going to get my hammer and camera. I want before and after comparison photos. They make great masturbation material. I'll be right back."

While Hildy was gone, Kelly tried to rub her thighs together to stimulate her clitoris. With the restraints, however, it was impossible. She then tried rocking back and forth on her seat to get some relief but that was equally fruitless.

After trying for a few minutes and finally realizing that she was unable to do anything to help herself in this situation, Kelly let out a sigh and looked up, surprised to see Hildy standing in the doorway. The 22-year-old was grinning from ear to ear.

"Sucks, doesn't it," the woman asked. "You have all this nervous energy, mixed with the anticipation and excitement. It's threatening to drive you mad. All you want to do is cum, but because I have you restrained like that, you can't do a thing."

Kelly looked at the woman questioningly.

"Oh. I can't say I understand. I've never been interested in receiving pain. I've seen enough subs, however, to have a fairly good idea what you're experiencing. And, because I want you to enjoy your little session as much as I do, I come bearing gifts."

In her hands, the woman held a pole half-covered with rubber, some odd clips that had bulbs on them, and, as she promised, her hammer.

"What are those?"

Setting her hammer and pole on the table, Hildy attached one of the clips to Kelly's barely-there left nipple.

"Ouch," Kelly replied.

"That feel good?"

"Not really."

"Well," the woman said with a grin, "you might not like this, either."

With that, she attached the second clip to the barely-there right nipple.


"Just wait," Hildy said as she pressed a button on each bulb, causing the clips to vibrate.

"Oh," Kelly moaned.


"Yes. Much."

"You'll like this even more," the woman said as she slipped the rubber-encased end of the pole between the child's thighs, pressing the rubber to the tiny clitoris.

Pressing the button to trigger the vibrator, Hildy grinned from ear to ear as the child moaned even louder. Kelly was losing herself to the bliss brought by having her tiny sex manipulated. The woman decided to let the little girl enjoy herself for a moment or two.

After three minutes of watching the cute little submissive writhe in pleasure and drool helplessly, Hildy picked up the hammer. It was time to begin. The child's eyes were closed and she never saw the peril approaching.

With a grunt of effort, Hildy brought the hammer down on the 10-year-old's left thumb. There was a satisfying howl of agony to accompany the crunch of breaking bone. Rather than leave it at that, Hildy brought the hammer down again and again until the thumb was completely pulped.

Kelly hadn't managed to stay conscious beyond the fourth strike. After the seventh had finished the job of destroying the thumb, the woman held smelling salts under the child's nose to revive the little girl.

With the return of consciousness, the conflicting sensations of ecstacy and agony began their incessant battle once more. Kelly sat motionless, breathing heavily as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Hildy, however, gave the little girl no respite. Picking up the hammer again, she started on the right thumb. Like the other thumb, it took seven blows from the hammer before it was completely turned to mush. Unfortunately for Kelly, she retained consciousness throughout the digit's destruction.

The howls of agony were starting to cause pain to Hildy. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her foam earplugs. She'd hoped to be able to avoid using them. Most of her previous victims had screamed themselves hoarse before the second digit was destroyed. This reduced their howls to a manageable volume. Kelly was more resilient.

Once the plugs were inserted, the torture continued. Occasionally, Hildy would stop long enough to focus on bringing another orgasm from the child. Then, the sadist would return to the task of detroying the hands of the innocent little girl.

By the time the last finger had been destroyed, Kelly's face was a mess. Tears ran freely from her eyes. Her face showed handprints on both cheeks from when Hildy slapped the little girl to wake her rather than use the smelling salts.

This torture was far from finished, however. The fingers were done, but the bones in the palms were untouched. Hildy smiled evilly as she took up her hammer again and set out to resolve that particular issue.

Kelly had been certain that she could handle this. This was, however, more than the little girl had ever experienced. It was far more than she'd expected and was questioning her resolve. It was too late, though. The evil 22-year-old would not let her up until she'd done as she said and destroyed every bone in the little girl's hands.

It took the better part of an hour to pulverise the bones in the hands. When she was done, Hildy sat down and took a drink of water. She needed a break before continuing on to destroy the feet.

"Would you like a drink," she asked the crying little girl.

Kelly could only nod wearily. The destruction of her hands had caused her to scream herself hoarse as Hildy had expected. She accepted the drink gratefully and finished two glasses of water before she was sated.

"More than you expected," the woman asked.

Kelly nodded.

"Do you want to continue?"

Kelly thought that was a very good question. The pain was far more than she'd ever expected and she wasn't sure she wanted to endure the pain of having her feet destroyed. In two days, though, her mother would be cutting Kelly's head off. This was the only chance she'd have to experience anything like this.

The 10-year-old nodded decisively.

"Wow," Hildy said. "I've seen grown men pale at the thought of what you'll endure. You're something else, little one. You have my admiration."

The praise felt good. Kelly knew, however, that the pain was only being postponed by talking. She looked meaningfully at her feet.

"I know you want to get started, but I need a break."

Hildy thought about what she just said and smiled.

"Sorry for the pun. I just need to rest for a moment before we begin on your feet."

Kelly nodded in understanding, finally realizing that it had to be tiring for the 22-year-old as well.

"I plan to begin with your toes, like I did with your fingers. Once the toes have been taken care of, I will get a sledgehammer to take care of your feet. Does that sound okay to you?"

Kelly wondered if Hildy would stop if the 10-year-old said it wasn't okay. She nodded, though. It was far too late to stop, now. She'd see it through until the end.

"I must say," Hildy said, "that you are a delight to work with. Regardless of how willing most people are in the beginning, by this point, they're usually begging me to stop. You won't beg, though. Will you?"

Kelly shook her head. Despite the fact that it was more extreme than she'd anticipated, she still wanted it desparately. She was just glad that her mother wasn't here to witness this. Lauraine wouldn't have been able to handle it.

"Well," Hildy said, "break time is over. Are you ready to continue?"

Taking a deep breath, Kelly nodded.

Hildy sunk to her knees, gripping her hammer and placing it above the little girl's left big toe. Without giving Kelly a chance to rethink her decision, the torturess raised the hammer high and brought it crashing down on the toe. It took ten blows to reduce the toe to pulp.

Kelly thrashed in her bonds, but the restraints were too tight. When she'd attached the ankle straps, she'd thought they looked weak. Now she knew that they were deceptively strong.

"These ankle straps aren't very strong," Hildy said, "if they only go once around the ankle. In this case, they're long enough to go around your ankle and the chair leg several times. This makes it so you won't be able to pull free."

The sadistic 22-year-old repeated the process on the other big toe. The pain was so intense that the little girl passed out again.

"Time for another break, I guess," Hildy said.


Walking from the room, she almost ran into Jim.

"How are things going," he asked.

"You aren't watching," she asked her uncle.

"No. When I produce my child bondage, we use special effects to make it look like we're really hurting the little kid. This, however, isn't child bondage. It's torture snuff. I kind of got bullied into it and I'm not happy about it. I really don't like seeing little kids hurt like that."

"Well, then," his niece said, "you don't want to ask how things are going,"

He looked at her.

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "I've destroyed both of Kelly's hands. I'm now working on her feet. I just finished with her big toes and she is passed out from the pain. I thought I'd just let her doze for a few moments while I run to the bathroom and get a drink."

"You don't mind inflicting this kind of damage? On a kid, even?"

"Someone's going to do it, right? At least, I can make sure it's done right."

Hearing his own thoughts echoing out of his niece's mouth made him feel a little better. He thought, however, that line of reasoning could become a slippery slope, becoming a justification for practically any heinous act.

"If you come to like it too much, you may want to quit," he said.

"I tell them I like it so they don't feel like they're in charge," she said. "They come to us because they want to be dominated. If we're too reluctant in our approach, it's no good for them."

"True. But how do you really feel?"

"It has to be done. It's what she wanted. I don't really understand it, but if it makes her happy, so be it."

"So, what have you got planned for her tomorrow? I know you are supposed to destroy her arms and legs, but how are you going to do it?"

"I've been thinking about that," she said. "I could pulverise them like I'm doing to her feet. Once I crush her toes, I'll use a sledgehammer to crush her feet. She'll never walk again. Then again, it might be kinder, in a way, to remove the arms and legs."

"But she wants them crushed."

"And they will be. I have a friend with a portable grinder. I could tie tourniquets around her shoulders and thighs to restrict bloodloss. Then I'd feed her arms and legs into the grinder. Can you imagine the pain of watching and feeling your limbs being ground up?"

"Talk to her about it, first," he said, shaking his head. "If she's okay with it, then go ahead. If she's against it, then use the sledgehammer. I don't want them forced into anything. I feel bad enough about this as it is."

"Sure thing, Uncle Jim. I'm heading back in, now. Do you want to watch?"

"No. I'll have to see it when we edit the films, that will be enough for me."


Entering the room, Hildy saw the 10-year-old starting to stir. Checking first to make sure the camera was still recording, the woman took the smelling salts and waved them under the child's nose. She smiled when she saw the little girl start to come around.

"Welcome back," she said to Kelly.

"Oh," Kelly said. "I'm still here."

"Did you expect to be done? It does little good to break your feet while you are unconscious. It's not very entertaining."

"I guess not," the redhead said. "Do we have much more?"

"Eight more toes and then your feet."

"Do you have anything that'll keep me awake while you do it?"

"We do," Hildy said, thoughtfully, "but I was hesitant to offer it as it increases the pain."

"That's okay," the little girl said. "All these breaks to wake me up must be annoying."

"Well, they're a little irritating, but I can handle it."

"So can I. Give me the drugs. I've had enough of sleeping. I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"Nicely said," the woman said as she walked over to a cabinet and removed a syringe. "You'll feel a little prick when I perform the injection, but then you'll be wide awake for at least eight hours."

"How long will it take to finish my feet?"

"Good question. It takes about one to two minutes per toe. That is, at most, sixteen minutes. Then another ten minutes per foot. That's another twenty minutes. In a worst case scenario, it'll take no more than forty minutes."

Hildy's estimation was spot on. Forty minutes later, she was putting her tools away. Once her tools were put away, she brought in a wheelchair. A big burly guy lifted Kelly from the chair and placed her in the wheelchair.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'd not be able to pick you up. You're practically as big as I am."

Kelly was wheeled into a room with a bed, a guy with a camera following her from the torture room to this new room. When the guy had placed Kelly on the bed, Hildy joined her. At this point, the older woman was naked but showed no discomfort at being seen by the men in the room.

"You don't mind these men seeing you naked," the 10-year-old asked once her tears had subsided.

"Not at all. I'm not their type. We don't hire men that would be attracted to you or me. There're too many problems."

A cocked eyebrow prompted Hildy to elucidate.

"I had to kill one of them about a year ago," she said. "He thought I was one of the girls and tried raping me. He thought my explanation was just an excuse to avoid the sex. He wouldn't stop. When I resorted to violence, he lost it and really began on me. I finally managed to stop him by crushing his windpipe."

"He died when he couldn't breathe. I, on the other hand, had been hurt badly enough that I had to spend three weeks in the hospital. As a result, anyone with any sexual desires for little girls is rejected. We want our muscle using the head on their shoulders, not the head between their legs."

"So, the little girl said, nervously. "What do we do now?"

"I play with you for a bit and you cry."

"That doesn't sound like fun."

"We'll see," Hildy said, lightly grasping Kelly's pulped left hand.

At the little girl's gasp of pain, Hildy smiled. This would be fun. She took the hand and slid it into her sopping cunt. Her pussy had been getting wetter and wetter as Hildy had thought about doing this to the poor child. As a result, it took very little effort to get the entire hand inside the older girl's cunt.

Kelly had forgotten about Hildy mentioning masturbation material. She hadn't realized the woman had intended to use her ruined hand as a dildo. The pain was excrutiating. It was at least as bad as, if not worse than when the hand had been destroyed. An added torment was the glee displayed by the sadistic woman.

Hildy, on the other hand, was troubled. The degree of cruelty needed for this was getting to her. She was glad she was almost done. She'd pretended to be okay with it when talking to Uncle Jim, but she was beginning to feel sick now. It was taking all she had just to keep pretending to take pleasure in the little girl's suffering.

Finally, after an excrutiating five minutes, Hildy managed a small orgasm and called a halt to the day's tortures.

"You did very well, Kelly," Hildy said.

"You too," Kelly said after a moment. "Hildy, can I ask you a question?"


"You didn't really enjoy that. Did you?"

The woman looked at the small mutilated child.

"No," she said after several seconds of silence. "I didn't. I've been in this business for a few years, but this is the first time I didn't really enjoy myself."

"I am sorry I was not good enough."

"You got it wrong, kiddo. You were great. It was just the thought that I took something as beautiful as you and ruined it. You'll never be able to use your hands or walk again."

"Luckily," the little redhead said with a chuckle, "that won't be a problem after Friday."

"I'm also having problems with tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? When you destroy my arms and legs?"

"Exactly. There are two feasible ways to do this. I can use the sledgehammer on your legs and arms. An alternative came to mind, though. Chances are it'll hurt much more, but it will be more interesting."

"What is the alternative?"

"We can bring in a portable grinder," Hildy said.


"A portable meat grinder. We'd tie tourniquets around your upper arms and upper thighs. This would cut circulation and prevent blood loss. Then we'd feed your arms and legs into the grinder. They're manual grinders so one of the muscle men would operate the grinder."

"What would that do to my arms?"

"The grinder would grind up your bones and meat. You would be like hamburger coming out of the grinder."

"That would hurt a lot."

"More than a lot, kiddo," Hildy said. "It would be worse then when I was working on breaking your hand. We'd need to give you another shot to keep you awake throughout the procedure."

"How long would it take?"

"Using the sledgehammer would be about half an hour per limb, so about two hours. The grinder would take about ten minutes per limb, or about forty minutes total."

"So," Kelly said, thoughtfully, "the grinder will be more painful but will much faster. Is that right?"


"Then, let's use the grinder. I like pain, but I'm not sure I want to experience two hours of that kind of pain. Forty minutes should be okay, though."

"Are you sure, Kelly," Hildy asked. "I need to know because we will need to start preparing this afternoon."

"I'm sure, Hildy. Let's do it."


Tyra walked into her room with a grin on her face. She couldn't believe how surprised Jim had been when she said she wanted to be dismembered. She was so excited by the process. She would be a real pillow girl. Well, at least for an evening.

Looking around the room, she saw a low table with a pair of sturdy tin snips. Soon, those would be placed around her fingers, cutting through skin, muscle, and bone before severing the digit completely. There was also a huge bolt cutter. That was probably for her thumbs and toes. She couldn't imagine the tin snips cutting through the bigger bones.

There was a chair with arm and leg restraints. That was probably a good idea. No matter how willing she was, she'd probably be thrashing when the pain got really intense. The restraints would prevent her from kicking or pulling away. She wouldn't want anyone else to be hurt.

Sitting in the chair, facing away from the door, the 10-year-old started fastening the restraints around her legs. As she finished the binding, she heard the door open. Strapped in as she was, she couldn't turn to see the person who'd remove her hands and feet, but the click of the person's high heels indicated that it was a woman.

As the woman came into view, Tyra was amazed to see it was her own mother.

"Hello, baby," Leanne said, brushing the 10-year-old's hair from her eyes.

"What are you doing, here, mommy?"

"Well, baby," the woman said, "I played a very large role in getting us into this. I figured I should play an equally large role in taking us out of this."

"You're going to cut off my hands and feet?"

"Yes. And tomorrow, I'll remove your arms and legs. I'm the only one who'll hurt you from now on, baby."

"Oh, mommy," the little girl said, tears forming in her eyes, "I'm so happy. Thank you."

Leanne wasn't so sure of this. When she got back and saw that they hadn't started yet, she volunteered. Sure, she was the one to bring up the subject. Sure, she was the one that bullied Jim into allowing it. It was, though, more than she'd ever imagined. To think; she'd dismember her own child and then kill her. It was insane.


Picking up the tin snips, Leanne turned to her daughter.

"Before we begin, I have to ask one last time. Is this truly what you want? It'll be horribly painful. If you pass out, I'll need to revive you before continuing. It'll also be a slow process. I'll use these tin snips to remove your fingers. I'll wait one minute between each finger. This means that it'll take at least ten minutes just for your fingers."

Tyra thought about what her mother said. It was a fair question. Did she really want her mother to do this? She'd still have all day tomorrow and she wouldn't be able to do anything for herself. Well, it would be interesting. The pain, also, was something that made this procedure attractive. She had her answer.

"Yes, Mommy."

"I need you to tell me exactly what you want me to do, sweetheart. I want this to be completely clear."

Tyra took a moment to compose herself. This was intense.

"Please, Mommy," the 10-year-old said. "Please cut off my fingers and toes. Please wait one minute between each one to allow me to enjoy the pain."

"And when I'm done with the fingers and toes," Leanne said. "I'll remove your hands and feet. Is this what you truly want?"

"Yes, Mommy. I want you to cut off my hands and feet when you're done with my fingers and toes."

Leanne looked at the table and noticed that something was missing. The tin snips and bolt cutters would do for the child's fingers and toes, but not for the wrists or ankles. Also, how would she control the bleeding. She also needed something to revive the little girl should she pass out.

"Mommy has to step outside for a few things," she said to Tyra. "I'll be right back."

Leaving the room, she left her daughter to contemplate her situation.


Tyra was thrilled. This was so much better than what she'd anticipated. She'd thought some smelly old man would use a butcher knife or axe to cut her up. Seeing that it would be her mom put the enjoyment of the situation on a completely different level.

She looked at the table to see if she could tell what her mom needed. It took her a few moments, but she came to the same realization. They were going to need something bigger than bolt cutters if they were going to cut off her hands and feet. She also wondered how her mommy would wake her up if she passed out.

Maybe her mom would hit her. Maybe she could even talk her mom into breaking each finger before cutting it off. She'd often thought of her mom torturing her, but was afraid to bring it up. With less than three days to live, what was the worst that could happen. Well, Mommy could say no. Tyra thought, however, that Mommy would agree.


When Leanne came back into the room, she had a cart with her. There were three syringes on it. There was also something that looked like a fire poker, but it had a cord hanging from it. Then there was the hacksaw. That'd definitely do the job of removing the fingerless hands and toeless feet.

"Mommy," Tyra said. "I was wondering if you'd do something for me?"

"Anything, baby," the mother said as she plugged the poker thingy into a wall socket.

"Wait until I ask," the little girl said. "You might not like this."

Seeing the puzzled look on her mother's face, the 10-year-old continued.

"If I pass out, I want you to smack me to wake me. Keep trying that for at least two minutes before trying anything else."

"Why," Leanne asked as she began to remove her clothes. "Why would you want me to do that?"

"I've been beaten before while making movies, but you've never hit me once that I can remember. I want you to beat me up. I want to feel what it's like to have my mommy really hurt me."

Leanne stared in shock at her little girl. This was going way beyond her comfort zone. Fuck that. It'd passed that point day ago. After some serious internal argument, she agreed. There were some conditions, though.

"If you really want that, I'll do it. But today, there'll be very little of that. After I remove your limbs tomorrow, we'll see about smacking you around as much as you want. For the serious beating, you'll have to wait until Friday. When you're satisfied with the beating, I'll cut you open like you want and then cut off your head."

Tyra thought that sounded like a fair compromise. There was, however, one thing she would like today.

"Will you at least break my fingers before cutting them off? That would be awesome.You know, cut off a finger and break the next. Then, wait a minute before continuing. "

"Okay, honey," the woman said. "Are you ready to begin?"

Tyra just smiled.


Jim watched from his office. He had a live feed via the security cameras. It wasn't as nice as the professional video cameras they had in the room, but he wouldn't look at that footage until later that evening.

He marveled at Leanne's determination. She was going through with it despite her own discomfort. He'd been surprised when she approached him while they were setting up the rooms. Her offer to be the torturer for her own daughter surprised him and he worried that she might not be able to do it.

If that proved to be the case, Jim had a backup only a phone call away. One call and Alex could be there in twenty minutes. Alex was was ideal for situations like this. He was so emotionally detached, he never took anything personally. He was not swayed by tears, begging, or even the age of the victim. He was paid for a job and he'd do it.

If Leanne found herself unable to continue, it'd be a little awkward with the transition from one torturer to the other, but that was a minor problem. A little note put into the video mentioning the mother couldn't bear to continue the torture should suffice. He cleared his mind again as he saw that Leanne was ready to start.


Leanne walked up to her daughter - her beautiful 10-year-old daughter - and fastened the restraints around the little girl's wrists. She brushed Tyra's hair back into a ponytail and used a band from her pocket to hold it. They wanted a clear shot of their victim's face.

"Baby," Leanne said. "This is it. Once I start, I won't stop until I am done. I won't be finished until I've removed your hands and feet. This is your last chance to back out. Do you really want to continue?"

Tyra was conflicted. Part of her wished her mother would just get on with it. The suspense was killing her. The other part was happy that her mother was so concerned about this that she had to keep giving warnings. Both parts wanted this, though, so the little girl nodded.

"Yes, Mommy," she said. "Let's start."

Leanne blew out a breath and nodded. There was no turning back now. Tyra had just sealed her own fate. Stepping forward, the mother grasped her daughter's left hand and bent the thumb back until a loud snap was heard.

Tyra shrieked. This was awesome. Oh, it hurt like fucking hell, but the excited tingles ran up and down her body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. She started breathing slowly and deeply. She'd read that helps with pain management.

"Oh," she moaned. "That was so good."

Leanne looked at her daughter incredulously. The little girl really did enjoy this. Well, they'd see how she liked the next part. As the second hand of the clock completed its orbit, Leanne picked up the tin snips.

"Here we go," she muttered to herself under her breath.

She placed the blades around the broken digit and squeezed the handle as hard as she could. The break, where the thumb joins the palm, helped tremendously. As it was already broken, there was little resistance and the mother easily severed her daughter's left thumb.

As Tyra began gasping at this new pain, Leanne picked up the poker. Its end was glowing red with the heat. Pressing the tip to the hand where the thumb had once been connected, she cauterized the wound.

There was no gasping or slow deep breaths, now. Tyra shrieked and pulled on the restraints. Her efforts, however were meaningless. She was going nowhere and her mother would continue until all the remaining nine fingers and all ten toes had been similarly dealt with.

"Oh, fuck," Tyra said, regaining her composure quickly. "That was awesome."

Leanne did not even hesitate. She grasped the child's right hand and snapped the right thumb exactly as she had with the left. Tyra began with the deep breaths again and sixty seconds later, there was a gasp as the right thumb joined the left thumb on the table and an agonized shriek as the wound was cauterized.

This set the pattern. First, Leanne would break one of the fingers on the little girl's left hand. Then, sixty seconds later, she would cut it off and cauterize the wound. Then she would repeat the process on the same finger on her daughter's right hand. Her estimation of about one minute per finger was off. It took thirty minutes to finish with the hands.

"Should I break and cut off the hands now," she asked her weeping daughter. "Or would you like me to move on to the toes for now?"

She'd fought down the urge to vomit a few times when dealing with the fingers. She could not believe she was doing this. The look of pleasure on Tyra's tear-stained face, though, was enough to convince her that she had to continue.

"Do my toes, Mommy," the 10-year-old said. "Let me enjoy this pain a little longer."

The little girl looked at her fingerless hands and giggled.

"They look so funny, Mommy."


Jim was pouring himself a drink when there was a knock at the door. He'd left orders not to be disturbed, so this had better be good. Opening the door, he saw Carol Naylor standing there.

"I heard there were some last minute changes to the script," she said. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Are you here professionally, or as a friend," Jim replied with a weak smile.

"Whatever you need, my friend. I'm always your friend but I'll only be your doctor when you want it."

Offering a drink to Carol, he was delighted when she accepted. It was to be informal, then. He knew Carol well and if she was going to drink, she would not be acting in some professional capacity. She'd still have good advice, but none of this would be documented.

"A friend," he said eagerly. "I'd much prefer a friend."

Carol took her drink and sat on the sofa. Looking at the video display, she saw Leanne remove Tyra's right thumb.

"That is intense," she said after taking a sip.

"It's what Tyra wanted. Leanne approached me after our meeting this morning and offered to be the torturer for her daughter. It's their last chance to do anything meaningful together and Leanne didn't want to just sit by. The other two weren't so anxious to participate. They're still very uncomfortable with the whole thing."

"So, Leanne's going to remove Tyra's fingers?"

"Her fingers, toes, hands, and feet. Before removing something, however, she'll break it. That was also one of Tyra's requests. When the fingers and toes are gone, Leanne'll use a sledgehammer to pulverise the little girl's hands and feet. Then, she'll remove those."

"This is nuts," Carol said, her voice filled with awe.

"That's not the worst part."

"I'm not sure I want to know."

"On Friday, Leanne'll cut Tyra open from the pubic region to the chest and then cut her head off."

"Oh, my God."

"And then, Leanne wants whoever kills her to slowly cut her head off with a butcher knife."

"I know," she said. "She wants me to do it."

"She wants to atone for raising her daughter to be a pain slut," Jim said. "I don't really think it's necessary, but she does."


"Leanne wants you to take her head off. Slowly. Painfully."

"I'm not one of your torturers, Jim."

"I know. You are, however, Leanne's choice for an executioner if you'll do it."

"I know, Jim. I need to talk to her about this."

"I thought you'd say that," he said. "After she's done with Tyra in there, she's free for the rest of the day."

"I'll talk to her."


The toes were much easier. Leanne used a hammer to smash them. She followed the same pattern she used with the fingers. Smash a toe, wait sixty seconds, cut it off, and then cauterize the wound. Then do the same thing to the same toe on the other foot. It wasn't overly difficult. It still took about forty-five minutes.

She'd had to use one of the syringes to revive Tyra once the little girl lost consciousness. The pain was somehow more intense when working on the toes. She'd only needed one syringe, though, so there should be enough to make it through the removal of the little girl's hands and feet.

After the last wound had been cauterized, Leanne stood and looked at her daughter. The child had no fingers or toes. Now, she was going to lose her hands and feet. Before that, though, the hands and feet needed to be destroyed. Picking up the hammer, she raised it high above the little girl's left hand.

"Do it, Mommy," Tyra said through sobs of pain. "Do it. Smash my hand."

Realizing she had no choice but to go on, she did as her daughter asked. She brought the hammer down on the hand as hard as she could. There was a horrendous cracking noise before the child's screeches drowned them out. Without waiting, she repeated the strike six more times, hearing crunches with each blow.

When she was done, the hand didn't look much like a hand anymore. It was just a lump of flesh. Looking at her daughter, Leanne saw that the child had passed out again. Raising her left hand she brought it down and across smacking her child across the face and leaving a reddening hand print.

Two more blows were needed to wake the tortured child.

"Oh, God, Mommy," Tyra said. "This's too much. I've been coming since you started on my toes. That last one was so strong, I blacked out."

"It can't be too much, yet," Leanne said. "We still have your right hand and both feet to destroy."

"If I'd known it'd be this good," the little girl said, "I might've done this long ago."

There was no more time for discussion because Leanne chose that moment to start on the right hand. It didn't take long before she was done. Tyra didn't lose consciousness this time. The 10- year-old child merely cried while smiling at the same time.

"We have another choice for you," she said to her daughter. "Do you want me to cut off your hands now or do you want to wait until I've smashed your feet?"

"Smash my feet first, please."

Leanne didn't hesitate. She picked up the sledgehammer and brought it up high. With a nod from her daughter, the blonde mother brought it down with all her might and the left foot was crushed. It wouldn't take more than one blow from the large hammer to get the results she needed.

"Again," she heard Tyra say weakly. "Do it again."

The mother raised the hammer above her head again and brought it down on the injured foot. There was a sickening crunching as broken bones were ground together. Tyra let out a howl of agony and started sobbing again.

"One more time," the 10-year-old said once she'd calmed down a bit.

After the third blow from the hammer, Tyra passed out. Leanne roused her by slapping the child's face a few times. The grin on the little girl's face was beautiful.

"I came again," she said.

Looking at her daughter's crotch, she could see the child's pussy was gushing fluid.

"Wow," Leanne said. "I had no idea pain did this to you, baby."

"It's been like that for a long time, Mommy."

The left foot was pulped. It was time to start on the right foot.

"Ready for the other one, sweetie?"

"God, yes," the 10-year-old said.

Leanne took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Here we go, baby."

Her aim was true and the right foot was crushed with a horrid crunching noise. Looking at Tyra's face and seeing the strained nod, the mother raised the hammer and brought it down again.

"Oh, God," Tyra said as pussy juice sprayed from her cunt. "One more, Mommy. One more."

In continuing amazement at her daughter's performance, she raised the hammer and brought it down a third time. At this point, it wouldn't matter if the little girl wanted it again. That sledgehammer was goddamned heavy and Leanne's arms needed a rest.

When the third blow came, Tyra let out a howl. Leanne couldn't tell if it was from pain or pleasure. It really didn't matter. The child passed out. It was okay. Leanne wanted to take a break. Putting the sledgehammer on the table, she left the room.


There was a knock on the door and the room's occupants knew who it was.

"Come in, Leanne," Jim said.

When Leanne entered the office, she was only mildly surprised to see Carol there. Although Carol wasn't officially involved in this production, her unofficial involvement was invaluable.

"Hello, Carol. How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Carol replied. "I thought about the changes the girls wanted for the scripts and, knowing Jim, I knew he'd probably want to talk about it. I also thought about your request and wanted to talk to you."

Leanne nodded. Sooner was better with Carol. This was a potentially touchy subject.

"I'll go check on Tyra," Jim said. "I know she's out of it right now, but someone should keep an eye on her and let us know when she wakes."

Neither of the two women mentioned the camera crew that was filming. They were already watching the unconscious little girl.

"Thank you, Jim," Leanne said. "I just needed a little break."

"I understand," Jim said. "Well, no, I don't. Not really. Take as long as you need, though."

Leanne smiled. Jim was just like that. He might not understand your viewpoint, but he didn't need to. He knew that she was experiencing some serious internal turmoil and needed to talk to Carol. After the door was closed, Leanne took a seat and just stared at the floor for a few minutes.

"How are you doing," Carol asked.

The naked mother bit back her sarcastic response. Carol knew goddamned well how Leanne was doing. Leanne still needed to say it. That was part of therapy.

"I've been better," Leanne said.

"Jim told me about what you're doing for Tyra."

Leanne returned her gaze to the floor.

"Stop that," Carol barked. "This isn't about you. That little girl asked you to do this. Remember what we talked about? She needs this and you're doing it for her."

"Like giving alcohol to a drunk."

"To a degree," Carol replied. "But think about this. Someone would be doing it to her. What she requested would appeal to the perverts who take delight in child bondage. Someone would be willing to give her the degree of torture she wants."

"But why me?"

"Because she loves you. She's a child. She really doesn't understand how much this hurts you. She sees this as a grand adventure and wants to share it with you."

"She wants me to beat her," Leanne said. "After her arms and legs are gone, she wants me to use her as a punching bag."

Carol let out a sigh.

"Let's talk about something else for a moment," the psychologist said. "I've thought about your request. Do you feel up to talking about it?"

"Yeah," Leanne said, blushing a little. "I do. I'm committed to this. If you don't do it, someone will. By Friday night, I'll be dead."

"Why me?"

"You're a friend. Perhaps my only real friend. If I'm going to go out like that, I'd like to have a friend close when I die. I think I'd be too scared otherwise."

That made sense.

"I'm not sure about this, Leanne. I'm not opposed to the idea, really, but there're issues. I have a practice and there're several people who'd be inconvenienced if their therapist appeared in a snuff film."

"Could you wear a hood? Hide your face?"

"I could," Carol replied. "Actually, I just thought of something. I'd need to be naked for this, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Leanne said. "I hadn't thought about that."

"Well, that might be okay."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll place bandages over my tattoos to hide my identity."

"But you don't have any tattoos."

"We both know that. The audience, though, would likely think I'm trying to hide any identifying marks. Put bandages around my forearms, calves, and neck, and it'll look like I'm hiding something."

Leanne laughed.

"So, you'll do it?"

Carol was completely confused. Here her friend was, asking a favor. Really, it'd be the last favor she'd likely ask. Could she really say no? Danii wasn't an issue. She was still away and wouldn't be returning until next week. Looking at her friend, she realized that it was really no choice. She was going to do it. She was as good as recruited when Jim brought it up.

"Yes, Leanne," she said. "I'll do it."


When Leanne returned to the room where Tyra was sleeping, Jim met her at the door.

"You okay?"

"She said she'll do it," the woman said.

"You knew she would."

"Don't let her know that."

"Tyra's been stirring a bit," Jim said. "You should have no trouble reviving her."

"Thanks, Jim."


As Leanne walked through the door, Tyra's eyelids fluttered and then opened.

"Did you have a good nap, sweetie," Leanne asked her poor mangled daughter.

"What," the 10-year-old asked.

"Never mind, baby. I'm going to remove your restraints for a little bit."

"Why, Mom?"

"Well," Leanne said, "I thought you might like to see what it feels like to walk with broken feet."

"I'm not sure about this, Mommy."

"Would you rather I just proceed with removing them, then?"

"No. You may be right. I am curious."

Leanne finished removing the leg restraints and held her hand out to her daughter. Tyra reached out, but with her demolished hand, she could not control her fingers. Leanne grabbed Tyra's forearm and pulled the girl out of the chair.

When her weight hit her feet, the girl shrieked and fell sideways, her arm slipping through Leanne's grasp. The mother tried to tighten her grip, but managed only to squeeze the mushy hand. Tyra howled out again and Leanne let go, letting the girl fall to the floor.

"I think I'm done," Tyra said. "I think I want you to remove them now."

Leanne smiled.

"Okay, sweetie," she said to the little girl. "Let me help you back into the chair."

It took a lot of effort. While Tyra wasn't all that heavy, Leanne simply wasn't that strong. She did it, though. In the process, however, she smashed Tyra's left hand into the chair and stepped on the little girl's right foot.

"Oh, God, Mommy," the little girl said while her mother strapped back into the chair. "That hurt far more than I expected."

"Of course it hurt, sweetie. The bones and muscles down there are all damaged. The only things down there that are still working properly are your nerve endings."


"Which would you like me to remove first," Leanne asked.

"My feet," her daughter replied.

"Okay," her mother said as she retrieved a tourniquet and applied it to Tyra's lower shin.

"What is that?"

"This is called a tourniquet. It is used to stop the bloodflow to a part of your body. In this case, I am using it to block the blood from flowing into your foot. This way, we minimize the bleeding when I cut your foot off."

"Oh. So, I won't bleed to death?"

"You won't bleed to death."


Leanne finished with the tourniquet and picked up the hacksaw. She couldn't believe she was going to do this. She was going to cut off her daughter's foot. Taking a deep breath, she got to work.

Tyra howled as her mother sawed through first flesh, then bone, as she removed the 10-year-old's right foot. The tourniquet worked properly and there was very little blood loss. Now, she just needed to cauterize the wound before moving on to the other foot.

Taking the searing poker, she touched the glowing tip to the wound and held it there for a few moments. One the wound was cauterized, Leanne cleaned the leg stump and bandaged it. Then, she repeated the entire process on the other foot. Just as she finished bandaging the second stump, the pain overwhelmed Tyra and she passed out again.

Leanne let the child remain unconscious as she moved the table around so the little girl's arms could rest easily on it. She left the room and returned with two strong men. They'd hold the girl immobile as there were no restraints on the table.

After letting the girl rest for another minute, Leanne slapped Tyra across the face. There was a moaned response but it was intelligible and the child didn't wake. Leanne struck her daughter two more times before Tyra opened her eyes.

"Welcome back," Leanne said. "Now we need to remove your hands. These nice men will hold your arm straight so I can remove the hand cleanly without worrying about your struggles. Isn't that nice of them?"

"Can one of them tickle my pussy," the little girl asked. "I'm so horny right now."

"Work first," the mother replied with mock seriousness. "When we're done, I'll leave and you three can have any fun they're comfortable with. Well, with one exception. They are not to hurt you at all. The pain, we'll save for tomorrow."

Tyra shrugged. It only made sense. The men would need both hands to hold her arm still. She placed her right arm on the table and looked up at her mother expectantly.

"Are you ready, baby," Leanne asked.

Tyra's only response was a broad genuine smile. Leanne nodded at the men and they placed their hands on the little girl's forearm and held it rock still. When they were certain that they had it immobile, they looked at the mother and the smiled.

"Try to pull away, baby."

Tyra did as her mother said and found no wiggle room at all. As long as these men held her, she was going nowhere.

"I can't, Mommy."

"Good," Leanne said, fighting to stay calm. "This will be very painful. Do you want a shot to reduce the pain?"


"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Leanne left it at that and picked up a tourniquet. Once she'd tied the tourniquet around the right forearm and picked up the hacksaw again. She placed the blade against the 10-year-old's wrist then moved it about an inch up the forearm. This would be easier to cut through and it would be easier to bandage.

"Here we go," she said under her breath.

Placing some force into her actions, she drew the blade back and pushed it forward. There was a line of red as the skin split and blood began to flow. The gasp from her daughter drew her attention.

"Baby," she said. "Do you want me to stop? Do you want to have that shot?"

"No, Mommy," Tyra said. "It hurts, but this also feels good. Really good."

Leanne had wished for a different answer. She knew what she had told Jim. She knew what she had told Carol. The truth, however, was that it was extremely difficult for her to continue the charade and pretend to enjoy this.

The mother continued her task and proceeded to saw through the little girl's forearm. It did not take long and soon, the fingerless palm was separated. Leanne quickly cauterized the wound and put a quick bandage on it.

"Fuck," Tyra moaned as she started to shake uncontrollably.

The men held the child tight as she was wracked by a tremendous orgasm. Leanne looked on in amazement and watched as the little girl writhed in pleasure until the glorious sensations subsided.

"Now," Leanne said, "the other one."

Tyra didn't hesitate. She placed the left arm on the table and the process was repeated. In a few minutes, the left hand came free. The wound was cauterized and bandaged. Now, the 10-year-old had no hands or feet.

"That's it," Leanne said. "How do you feel, baby?"

"Oh, Mommy," the little girl said, "I'm so confused. It feels so good, and it hurts so bad. I don't know if I should laugh or cry."

"Well," Leanne said as she started picking up the tools and placing them on the table, "I'll leave you in the capable hands of these men. Maybe they can help you figure it out."

The look of anticipated pleasure that passed between the two men and the child left little doubt in Leanne's mind as she left the room. Tyra would be laughing in no time.


I just powered through this entire thing, and I just wanted to say how amazing this is. Beyond your exquisite descriptions of the acts, I think what really elevates this is how you describe the mental processes of the characters.

It creates a very real suspension of disbelief, and makes a scenario as out there as this one almost believable. I can't wait for the next installment, and I hope it's at least half as good as the rest of this story (though I bet it'll be just as good, if not better).


I agree with my former poster, a really amazing story.
There were times, especially in the first chapters, when I whished for some more action described ... but we got this the last chapters, so this is fine (no critique, only personal preference).
Can't wait to read the following chapters of this.

Thx for this story so far!


Leanne made it out of the room and to the restroom in time, but it was a close thing. Taking barely a second to lock the door, she rushed to the toilet and threw up noisily. She was shaking when her stomach had emptied.

She couldn't let Tyra know about how upset it'd made her, but those men should keep the 10-year-old occupied for a while. It wasn't likely that she'd be entering the restroom even if the door wasn't locked. Then again, Tyra wouldn't be going anywhere on her own.

The little girl wouldn't be able to walk. Hopefully, she was having fun. It was going to be awkward during dinner. Tyra might not have thought about it, but she wouldn't be able to feed herself. Leanne would take care of her. When she finally calmed down, she cleaned herself up and rinsed out her mouth. Feeling refreshed, she left the restroom.


Jim went looking for Leanne as soon as the woman left the room. She'd masked it well, but he knew that she was seriously disturbed. She'd need to talk to someone. He just hoped he'd be able to help her. He saw her leaving the restroom and she looked a little unstable.

"Leanne," he said. "How are you doing?"

"Just fine, Jim," she said.

"Yeah," he said dubiously, "right. I know better. Let's go have a drink."

That sounded fine to Leanne and they went to his office.

"More," she said as he stopped pouring her drink.

He didn't hesitate or question. He added more brandy and slid the glass over to her.

"Thank you."

They drank in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't know if I can do this, Jim. I think I was able to hide my discomfort from Tyra, but I don't know if I can do it again. It was horrible. I had to destroy her fingers, hands, toes, and feet before cutting them off."

"What was the worst part?"

"To be honest, I think I was sexually aroused by everything."


"I'm a terrible person. I'm a horrible mother. I was getting sexually aroused by torturing my daughter."

"I understand you becoming sexually aroused. There's something very carnal about abusing someone else. That's why this business exists in the first place. The fact that it's your own daughter is irrelevant. You aren't terrible at all. You're merely doing what your daughter wants."

"That's like giving alcohol to a drunk," she said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Oh, well," she said with a heavy sigh. "At least, I won't have to worry about it much longer. By this time Friday, I'll be dead and my perversity will end with me."

"And tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm torn. I know she wants me to do it. I just don't know if I can."

"Well, tomorrow, there'll be no torture. You'll merely be removing her arms and legs."

"Merely," she replied. "Like that's something inconsequential."


"No," she said, interrupting him. "It's okay. I'll do it."


At dinner that night, Leanne saw that she wasn't the only mother feeding her daughter. She'd forgotten that Kelly was also going to have her hands destroyed. It looked like she'd had her own hands removed.

Lauraine fed Kelly as Leanne fed Tyra. Monique and Renee fed themselves. The six were quiet throughout the entire meal. Renee and Monique shot glances at Tyra and Kelly. Their inability to feed themselves or walk showed that the little girls had experienced some serious torture.

After dinner, the girls were watching a movie while the mothers talked.

"Jim mentioned that you were involved in Tyra's torture," Monique said.

"It was what she wanted."

"How was it?"

"It made me sick," she said. "I was able to do it and make Tyra think I enjoyed it."

"But did you?"


"Did you enjoy it," Monique asked.

"I do not know," Leanne said. "I thought I hated it, but, I was surprised by the fact that I was getting aroused."

"Aroused," Lauraine asked.

"Sexually. After I removed her hands, I went to the bathroom and threw up. On the other hand, my pussy was sopping wet."

"Woah," said Monique. "How did that make you feel?"

"Conflicted. Ashamed. I can't believe that I was sexually aroused by hurting my daughter. I also, however, have to admit that it felt kind of good."

"What about tomorrow?"

"I'm supposed to cut off her arms and legs. I'll have to finish the job of turning her into a torso and a head."

"Can you do it," Lauraine asked.

"I don't know," Leanne said. "It has be better than today. At least I won't have to torture her beforehand."

"I was surprised when I saw Kelly," Lauraine said. "She'd said she wanted her hands pulverised, but I hadn't really thought of what that meant. When I met her in the waiting room, her hands were already bandaged. The woman who did it said that she destroyed all the bones in Kelly's hands."

"That's intense," Leanne said.

"Yeah," Lauraine said. "They ended up cutting off the hands and feet. Like with Tyra. Kelly said that tomorrow, they're going to feed her arms and legs into a grinder while the limbs are still attached."

"What," Monique said.

"They'll grind up her arms and legs and she'll feel all of it."

"So we'll have two pillow girls tomorrow night," Monique said.

"What the hell's a pillow girl," Leanne asked.

"A pillow girl is a living girl without arms or legs. She's used as toy by people."

"How so?"

"Well," Lauraine said, "they can be used as sex toys. Without arms or legs, they have no way of escaping or preventing their owner from fondling, or fucking them."

"Interesting," Leanne said.

"There are girls that volunteer for this, to be honest. They're pampered and cared for."

"Are you shitting me?"

"Nope. I know of two of them."

"And they volunteered to have their limbs severed and become sex toys?"

"Yes," Monique replied. "The only complaint they had was that it took a while for them to get used to someone cleaning them after they used the toilet."

"I can believe it," Leanne said. "It must be mortifying."

"I'd think so," Lauraine said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"We told Jim about how we wanted to go out," Monique said.

This piqued Leanne's interest.

"How are you going to do it?"

"I'm going to be ripped in half," Monique said. "I asked Jim to use chains to attach my legs to two trucks. He'll split my pelvis with an axe or something and then use the trucks to rip me into two pieces."

"Holy shit," Leanne said. "That's intense. You do realize that it'll be more painful than anything you have ever experienced."

"I know, but I honestly think I need that after I kill my daughter,"

"I really haven't decided how to go out," Lauraine said. "To be honest, I don't think I care. As long as I end up dead, I'm okay with it."

"Carol's going to cut my head off," Leanne said.


"She'll work for Jim on this video. She was reluctant, but agreed to kill me when I asked her."

"Maybe I should ask her, too," Lauraine said.

"If you think so, she'll be back here tomorrow. She has offered counseling services to anyone involved in this if it gets to them."

"I'll talk to her," the redhead said.

"Well," Monique said, "maybe I should talk to her, too. She might be willing to be the one who splits my pelvis."

Leanne wasn't sure how Carol would respond to this. She remembered how troubled Carol was with Leanne's request. Then again, how would they know if they didn't ask. Carol could surprise her.

"Well," she said, "it can't hurt to ask."

Filming ~ Day 8

When Carol got to the studio, she was met at the door by Bernadette.

"I should warn you," the receptionist said. "The three mothers all want to talk to you. I hear you accepted Leanne's request to kill her. I believe the other two wish to make similar requests."

"Thank you, Bernie," Carol said. "As soon as I accepted Leanne's request, I realized that my role would likely be expanded to include all three mothers. I think that they'd just feel better about it if it was done by someone with whom they are familiar,"

"Well, you're the doctor. I've never understood how these women and children think, Are you going to accept?"

"Well, that would depend entirely on what they ask me to do. I think, however, that I probably will. You heard that I'll be working with Jim and Arnie from now on, right?"

"Yes. I think it's a great idea. There are too many kids doing this. Maybe if they had someone to talk to, they wouldn't feel the need to hurt themselves."

"That would be nice, but I'm not a miracle worker. What I can do, though, is identify those that aren't sure that this is what they should be doing. I can talk with guardians and warn them of the pitfalls inherent in this industry and let them make informed decisions."

"I just wish this information had been made public before this. Maybe Tyra and the others wouldn't have been in this situation."

"That's possible," Carol said, "but I believe that those seeds were planted long before she became a starlet. Many fetishes like this are developed at a very young age, when the child is still in an impressionable state."

"Well, anyway, I just wanted to let you know they were wanting to speak with you."

"I'll go find them. Thanks for the warning."


Carol found the three women sitting in the waiting room, enjoying a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, ladies," she said as she entered the room.

"Good morning, Carol," Leanne said with a smile.

"I don't know," Monique said. "Is it?"

"Well," Carol said, "I think it's a glorious day. Would you three like to go for real coffee? It would be my treat."

"Sorry, Carol," Leanne said, "but I need to be on set in thirty minutes. We're removing Tyra's arms and legs today."

"I will bring you something back, then," Carol said. "Tall Mocha, two shots espresso, no whip cream, right?"

Leanne smiled. She'd mentioned her preference once; at an audition a year ago.

"Yes," Leanne said. "That is right."

"What about you two," Carol asked as she turned to the other two mothers. "Are you up for a trip to Starbucks?"

Lauraine and Monique looked at each other. This would be a perfect time to talk to the doctor.

"Yes," they said simultaneously.

"We will be back, Leanne," Carol said. "We'll talk then."

"Thank you, Carol."


"I understand you wished to speak with me," Carol said as the three women sat in a corner with their drinks.

The other two looked at each other and sighed.

"Yes," Lauraine said. "I heard you,ll be helping Leanne with her part in the movie."

Carol was glad Lauraine knew something of discretion. Details couldn't be discussed here, but the preliminaries could be dealt with. The ride back to the studio would provide opportunity to discuss details.

"That's what she requested," Carol said. "Hesitantly, I accepted."

"Would you be willing to help me?"

"Us," Monique said.

"Would you be willing to help us?"

"I'll tell you. After accepting Leanne's request yesterday, I toyed with the idea of assisting you two. I'm not as against the idea as I would've thought a week ago. My acceptance of your requests will depend on the scope of my involvement, though. We can't discuss details here, but if you enlighten me during the ride back to the studio, I'll see what I can do."

The other two women sighed in relief.

The three women shared small talk - about the weather, mostly - and finished their coffees. Having finished her coffee, Carol stood up.

"I need to get Leanne's coffee. I'm also going to get another for myself. Would either of you like one to go?"

The other two agreed and Carol went to get the four coffees.

"She's kind of strange," Monique said, "but I like her."

"Me too," Lauraine said. "I know what you mean about being strange, though. I just can't picture a woman like her doing what we're going to ask of her."

"Yeah. And she seems so calm about the whole thing. It's like she's not even involved in this."

Carol returned with a cup holder containing the four coffees, each labeled in black as to what the cup contained.

"I can't hold this while I drive. Would one of you help me with this?"

Without saying a word, Lauraine took the cup holder.

"Thank you. Shall we go?"

The three women left and got in the car. They'd been riding for about five minutes when Monique spoke.

"I have a rather odd request," the black woman said. "On Friday, after I take care of Renee, I'm going to be split in two. Two trucks, each attached to one leg, will drive off in opposite directions, ripping me up the torso."

"Wow," said Carol, duly impressed. "That'll be rather excrutiating, you understand."

"I do. After what I put my daughter through, though, it seems the least I can do."

"Let me stop you right there," Carol said. "Don't bring Renee into this. As far as the child's concerned, you are granting a wish. This is what they want. If it wasn't you, it'd be someone else. You're doing your daughter a favor."


"No 'buts'. I'm serious. I ask you to be honest with yourselves. You're not doing this for them. You're doing this for yourselves. The driving motivation may be your inability to accept what you're going to do to your daughters, but they won't benefit in the slightest from your deaths. You, however, will benefit by dying. Your own torment will end."

The two women sat in silence mulling over what Carol had said. There was truth there. They were killing their daughters for their daughters' sakes. Dying wouldn't aid the children at all.

"You're right," Monique said.

"Okay," Carol said. "Now, you said you'll be split in half. How can I help you?"

"I'd like you to use an axe to split my pelvis. Otherwise, the pelvis might hold and only the leg would be removed."

"How do you picture me doing this?"

"Once the chains are attached to my ankles, the trucks will start their engines. You'd use either an axe or a chainsaw to break my pelvis. Then, the trucks will go, pulling me apart before I go into shock from you breaking my pelvis."

"So," the doctor said, "I'd just break your pelvis? Nothing more?"

Monique was confused. Did this woman want to be involved or not? She decided to be honest.

"I'd like to make love to you," she said. "I'd love to play with you for a little bit and then wrap it all up by being ripped apart."

Carol nodded. She'd noticed Monique's glances during the weekend and had thought there was more than a little sapphic lust there.

"I think I could do that," she said, noting the pleased look on the black woman's face. "There is, however, one condition."

"What," Moniques asked.

"I won't be completely naked," she replied.

Seeing the flash of disappointment on Monique's face, she continued.

"I'll be naked where it counts. My pussy, ass, and tits will be available. The difference is that I'll have some bandages on me, and will be wearing a mask."


"I'm a doctor and have some rather high-profile patients. They'd be seriously inconvenienced should it become known that their psychologist was a torturer and executioner."

"Oh," the black woman said. "I'd forgotten about that. The mask, I can understand, but why the bandages?"

"To cover any identifying tattoos or marks."

"But you don't have any. I saw all of you this past weekend and there was nothing there."

"I know that and you know that, but the audience won't know that."

Lauraine laughed.

"That is brilliant."

"What," Monique said, still not getting it.

"Think about it," the redhead said. "It you saw someone on the screen with bandages all over her body, in places where tattoos usually appear, what would you think?"

"I would think that they were hiding something."

"Exactly. Therefore, if you saw someone with no hint of markings or tattoos where those bandages were placed, would you think they were the person on the screen?"

As Monique finally got the point, she hissed disgustedly.

"Fuck," she said. "How could I have missed that? That is good."

"That's my condition," Carol said. "Do you accept my terms?"


"Then, we'll play for a bit before I break your pelvis.

Monique sighed in relief.

"Thank you."

"Well," Carol said, "that takes care of Monique. What can I do for you, Lauraine?"

"Leanne told me that you'll slowly cut her head off."

"That is right."

"And you'll make love to Monique and then prepare her to be ripped in half."


"I'd like you to smother me."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll need you to cut my throat, afterwards, but I'd like you to straddle my head and cover my mouth and nose with your pussy. Then, don't get up until I'm dead."

"You want me to suffocate you with my pussy."


"Is that it?"

"Well," the redhead said, "like I said, I'd need you to cut my throat afterwards to give the camera something that shows that I am obviously dead. Other than that, if you could play with my pussy while you smother me, that'd be great."

"You want me to give you an orgasm?"

"If that's okay."

"Of course it is. I love sex and you can bet that I'll be climaxing as you struggle under my pussy."

Lauraine sighed in pleasure.

"Thank you, Carol."


The discussion between the three women lasted for a couple hours. They genuinely liked each other and were enjoying the time they spent together. Carol wasn't as sure about her decision as she made the others believe.

Although she'd agreed to help kill the three women, she was still troubled by the thought. She was confident, however, that she could do it. They were scared, of course, and if she could make it any easier on them, she wanted to.

From a psychologist's perspective, she wanted to go through with it so she would understand what other executioners would experience. If this did spawn a new genre of porn - snuff porn - she wanted to be able to help those involved that needed counseling.


Jim sat at his desk, a bottle of scotch at his side. This was much harder than he had anticipated. When he was approached and offered the job, he thought it would be relatively simple. Yes, he would be beheading three little girls, but the reality of the situation had eluded him.

Now, two days away from the girls' executions, he wasn't sure. It was a harsh reality. He was happy that he wouldn't be the one to perform the executions. He wasn't sure how he felt about the mothers doing the deed, but Carol said it was okay. He trusted Carol.

Carol was going to be invaluable. He didn't want to subject anyone to this, but there would be those for whom this was a viable solution. Like Tyra, Kelly, and Renee, there would be those who'd become addicted to the pain and suffering. This was a cleaner death than many such people would experience.

Carol could help prevent the deaths of those who were merely curious about the idea of being a snuff movie victim. He didn't want to kill anyone who might change their mind if given the chance.

He already knew he'd continue making movies. As Carol pointed out, his competition was ruthless and would exploit anyone they could. His conscience dictated that he continue to give an alternative option.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said. "It's unlocked."

Carol entered the office. Seeing the bottle on the table, she sat down with a smile.

"Yes, please," she said.

He glanced at her, puzzled by her statement.

"You were going to offer me a drink," she said.

"Of course I was," he said with a smile.

He got up and retrieved two glasses from a cabinet. Pouring them each a drink, he handed Carol's to her and took his seat behind the desk again. Putting his feet up on the desk, he leaned back in his seat and took a drink.

"Good scotch," Carol said.

"Only the best for me and my guests," he replied. "Did you talk with Monique and Lauraine? Bernadette said that they had something to discuss with you."

"I did," she replied.

"And," he asked.

"I'll be assisting with the deaths of all three mothers."

"I know you're unsure of this, but I am grateful."

"Apparently, Monique has this plan to be ripped in half, She wants me to break her pelvis. That way, there is less chance of her merely losing a leg when the trucks take off."

"That makes sense. You ever handle a chainsaw before?"


"Good. You'll need to split her up to her navel. That will allow the muscles to cleanly separate and keep the halves intact."

"Oh, god," she replied.

"How will you assist Lauraine?"

"She wants me to smother her."


"She wants me to cover her mouth and nose with my pussy and cut off her air supply. Oh, and I'm supposed to finger her to orgasm while I'm doing it. When she's dead, I'm supposed to cut her throat."

"And you are okay with this," he asked.

She took a drink and waited a few seconds before replying.

"I really don't know," she said. "I'm committed to doing it, though. And as far as Leanne, Lauraine, and Monique will know, I'm honored to help them. They won't find out about my true feelings, will they?"

"Thank you, Carol. I couldn't have done this without you. And no; the three mothers won't find out you are troubled by this. At least, not from me or my staff."

"I won't say it's nothing," she replied. "To be honest, this has hurt quite a bit. I've had to address some very personal demons in order to overcome my reticence. But, I've learned a lot and I think I can help you in the future. So, you're welcome."

She took another drink from her glass.

"So, what is happening today?"

"Well," he said, "Leanne will cut off Tyra's arms and legs. Kelly will have her arms and legs fed through a meat grinder while they're still attached."

"Oh, my god," Carol said. "You mean she'll feel it when her limbs are ground up?"

"Yes. She decided on that yesterday. As for Renee, we'll be playing more with electricity. We'll also use branding or piercing on her to help enhance the experience for her. She enjoyed the electricity play they had yesterday, but it was too mild, she says. She wants something much more extreme."

"It sounds like you have a very busy day ahead of you."

"You could say that."

"Then I'll leave it to you. I need to go meet with a client."

"When will you be back?"

"I'll be back tomorrow evening. If you don't mind, I plan to spend the evening with the girls and their mothers. If they need to talk, I want to be available."

"That sounds fine," he said. "How long would you be staying?"

"Until it's finished. I won't leave again until all six have died and filming has wrapped."

"Sounds good. Have a good day, Carol."

"You too, Jim. See you tomorrow."

With that, Carol rose and left.


Leanne walked into the room where she would remove her 10-year-old daughter's arms and legs. There was a considerable amount of trepidation, but the mother had resigned herself to the fact that this was what the child wanted.

The door opened and Tyra was wheeled in on a gurney. She had two straps crossing her body; one barely above the hips and one crossing her chest. THey expected the child to thrash around quite a bit when the pain hit. They had given her drugs that would dull the pain a bit, but she would still feel quiet a bit.

Tyra, due to her enthusiastic nature was all smiles. This was just something great and she could not wait for her mother to get started, She looked around and tried to see how her mother was going to do it, but there was nothing in the room but her mother and herself.

"Hello, baby," Leanne said. "Are you ready?"

"Heck, yeah, mommy. Cut off my arms and legs."

"I need to get my tools, but I will be right back."

Leanne left only to return two minutes later with a cart. On the cart was a chainsaw. There was also something that looked like bolt cutters, but had a curved blade. Tyra remembered seeing the janitor at school use something just like that to cut tree branches off of trees when they posed a threat to kids.

She could easily see that thing cutting through her arm. They were likely too small for the legs, though. That was probably the reason for the chainsaw. Tyra also saw several strips of thin leather on the cart. Those were a mystery to her.

"What are those things," she asked indicating the leather strips.

"Tourniquets," Leanne said. "We don't want you to bleed to death. Oh! That reminds me."

She darted out of the room and returned with the tool she used to cauterize Tyra's wounds the day before. She plugged it in and returned to her daughter.

"We need to wait a few moments for that to heat up," she said to the 10-year-old. "In the meantime, I can tie the tourniquets on your arms."

"You are going to use those cutters on my arms, right?"

"Yes, dear. Those are tree trimmers. They should have no problem cutting through the bones in your arms. The legs are quick a bit thicker and would be too tough. Because of this, I will use the chainsaw to remove them."

"Okay, mommy."

The tourniquets tied, Leanne picked up the trimmers.

"Last chance, baby," she said. "Are you really sure you want me to do this?"

"Yes, mommy. Go ahead."

Taking a deep breath, Leanne placed the cutters around the child's upper left arm, two inches below the tourniquet. She slammed the handles together as hard as she could. There was a crunch followed almost immediately by a heart-rending howl of pain.

Picking Tyra's left arm up off the floor, Leanne set it on the cart and retrieved the cauterizing tool. Within minutes, the wound was cauterized and bandaged. The blood loss was negligible. There was some, however, draining from the 10-year-old's severed limb.

"Two tourniquets," Leanne muttered.

Going to Tyra's right side, she tied a second tourniquet three inches below the first. Cutting between the two should reduce bleeding from either side. She picked up the trimmers and looked down at her daughter. The child was a mess. Tears flowed from her eyes and there was a wet spot on the gurney between her legs. The shock must have made her urinate.

"How are you doing, baby," the woman asked.

"Oh, mommy, this is awesome. It hurt so much, I had an orgasm."

Leanne then realized that the wet spot was not urine but vaginal secretions.

"Is the pain too much?"

"Not really," the 10-year-old said. "I am ready for the other one, I think."

Leanne just nodded as she placed the trimmer's blades between the two tourniquets. She drew another deep breath and slammed the handles together. There was a repeat of the crunch, but the howl was replaced by a groan of what appeared to be pleasure.

She picked up the right arm and deposited it on the cart beside the left arm. A few minutes work with the cauterizer and the bandages finished up the process. Now, the child had only 2-inch stumps where the arms had been.

Tyra was grinning. Leanne could not believe it.

"Are you having fun," the mother asked.

"Oh, yes, mommy. This is great. The pain is not too bad, really. It just shocked me the first time."

"Well, we are only halfway done, sweetie. This next part will likely take longer."

"Can you cut them both off at the same time?"

"I suppose I could, but I won't."

"Why not?"

"I am not sure of my speed with the cautering torch. While I was taking care of the first one, you might bleed out from the other one. One at a time seems safest."

"I see," the little girl said. "That makes sense."

"Do you want earplugs? In this little room, the chainsaw will be very loud."

"No, mommy. I am okay."

"Then, I guess I should get started."

Leanne was not unfamiliar with chainsaws. True; it had been a few years since she last used one, but she was confident in her ability to handle it. Picking it up, she found the weight manageable. Starting it up, she moved to the gurney. Something was wrong. She turned off the chainsaw and left the room.

Returning a minute later, she had a block of wood with her. She placed it under the child's right leg and double-checked the tourniquets. They were secure so she picked up the chainsaw again.

"I thought using a block of wood would make it easier. I really do not want to catch the blade of this thing on the bedcovers."

Tyra nodded. That, too, made sense.

Leanne started the saw again and without hesitation, began sawing through the 10-year-old's right leg three inches down from her crotch.

This time, however, there was no mistaking the noises the child made. She may have been enjoying it, but those screams were of agony, pure and simple. She wept, screamed, and shook on the gurney, the straps doing their jobs, holding the cild in place.

Leanne finished with the right leg. It had taken two minutes. The bone was thick and she really had to work to cut through it. Turning off the chainsaw, she quickly cauterized the wound and bandaged it.

"One more," she said, more to herself rather than to her daughter.

The little girl was sobbing quietly.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"No, mommy," Tyra said. "That hurt a lot more than the arms did."

"Well, we still have one more to go. Do you think you can stand it?"

"Yes, mommy. Just don't be surprised if I start crying again."

"Don't worry. I will not be surprised. Cry all you want."

Leanne moved the block of wood beneath the 10-year-old's and retrieved the chainsaw.

"Here we go, baby," she said to her daughter. "One more."

Without giving Tyra time to think on it, Leanne began cutting through the left thigh. Like it was with the right leg, it was hard going and took about two minutes to finish cutting through the child's limb. True to her word, the little girl was sobbing again. Leanne paid no attention and focused on the task at hand; cauterizing this last wound.

Picking up the legs, she put them on the cart with the arms. She turned and looked at her daugher. The 10-year-old lay there, a torso and a head. The little girl was still crying, but quietly, not the heart-rending sobs that were heard earlier. Leanne walked over to the gurney and stroked the little girl's head.

"Oh, mommy," Tyra said, regaining her composure. "Thank you."


"That was wonderful. It hurt more than anything I have ever felt, but if also felt great."

Leanne picked up her daughter, surprised at how light the little girl was.

"I am glad you liked it," Leanne said. "I cannot imagine how that felt good, but I am glad you liked it."

"But we're not done yet," the little girl said.


"You promised me that you would smack me around today. I know you won't really beat me up until Friday, but I want you to smack me. Spank me. Twist my nipples until I scream."

"Fuck," Leanne muttered with a sigh.

She had really hoped the child would forget about this.

"Are you sure, baby?'

"Yes," Tyra said. "Hit me."

Leanne lifted her arm and began the swing to slap her daughter's face. She couldn't help herself and pulled the blow. The result was a light slap; barely enough to bring a rosy glow to the child's cheek.

"No," Tyra said, "no, no, no. You have to really slap me. Pretend I did something to piss you off and you lost control."

Leanne sighed. Raising her hand, she took a deep breath. Then, she brought the hand down and slapped Tyra hard across the face. The gurney rocked for a few seconds before settling down.

"That's much better," the little girl said. "Do it again."

Leanne shook her head.

"That was dangerous," the mother said. "If the gurney had fallen over, you could have hit your head and gotten killed right now."

"That would be bad," Tyra said. "Take me off the gurney. Put me on the floor and then slap me silly."

"On the concrete? I don't think so."

"Jim has a tumbling mat. Get that and then we can do it."

"Fuck, me," Leanne said. "You really want this. Don't you?"


Leanne gave up.

"Okay, baby. I will be right back."

She left the room to find the mat.


Jim met her outside the door.

"How is it going," he said.

"Well, she has no arms or legs, now. But now, she wants me to slap her around. I need to take her off the gurney or it could tip over. Tyra said you have a tumbling mat. She thinks we should use that."

"I do," he replied. "It is a little bulky so I will have one of the techs bring it in for you."

"Thanks, Jim."


Leanne went back in the room and stroked Tyra's head.

"Someone will bring in a mat."

"Cool," the little girl said.

They did not have to wait long. Ted brought the mat in and opened it. The mat was about eight feet long and six feet wide. It was also about two inches thick. There would be plenty of padding.

Leanne picked up her daughter and placed the child in the middle of the mat. She knelt, straddling her daughter's body. The little girl was grinning ear to ear. Once more, the mother raised her hand and, seeing the twinkle in Tyra's eyes, brought the hand down with all her strength.

"Ouch," she said, shaking her hand. "That hurt."

Glancing at her daughter, she saw the bright red handpring on Tyra's left cheek. The little girl was still smiling.

"Yeah," the child said, "like that."

Leanne did not respond. She simply raised her other hand and struck the child across the right cheek. The little girl surprised her by bucking and moaning. Hearing a noise behind her, Leanne looked back and saw that Tyra had sprayed girl-cum all over the mat.

"Liked that, did you?"

Tyra nodded emphatically.

"I have a very strange daughter," Leanne said, grabbing a handful of Tyra's hair and pulling her head up off the mat.

She slapped the child across the face again. Tyra's head fell back to the mat, leaving her mother holding a fistful of hair that had been torn out.

"Oh," Tyra said. "So good. Punch me, mommy. Punch me in my belly."

Leanne did not hesitate. She balled her left hand into a fist and drove it into her daughter's stomach. Again, she felt her pussy moistening. She was disgusted to find herself becoming sexually aroused.

"That's enough for now," she said to the little girl. "I told you that I would beat you up on Friday. I will do that until you say enough. Then I will finish you. But for now, we are done."

"Yes, mommy," Tyra gasped as the struggled to catch her breath.

There was a knock on the door and the two men from the day before came in.

"Can I help you," Leanne asked.

"They're here for me, mommy," Tyra said. "They are going to play with me for a while."


"We're going to have sex."

"Oh," Leanne said. "That's okay, then. I will leave you to it."

As Leanne left the room, she heard the little girl giggle as the two men joined her on the mat.


Kelly was back in the room, strapped to a gurney. Hildy was there standing next to a table. On the table was a mechanical grinder. A flip of the switch would turn it on, The opening where meat was fed into the grinder was quite large. It was plenty big enough to accommodate Kelly's legs.

"So," Hildy said. "Here we are again. Are you ready for me to grind up your arms and legs?"

"Yes," Kelly said, a hint of trepidation in her tone.

"Before we do that, though," the woman said, "I need to tie tourniquets around your arms and legs. I also need to give you a shot that will allow your blood to coagulate more easily. That way, we avoid unnecessary blood loss. We do not want you to die today."

"No," Kelly agreed. "We need to wait until Friday for that. My mommy is going to kill me."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes," Kelly said. "I really do."

"Before we begin, I need to ask you one question. Which do we start with; your arms or legs?"

"I don't know."

"Do you mind if I flip a coin to decide?"

"No," the little girl said. "Go ahead."

"Okay," Hildy said as she pulled a coin from her pocket. "Heads for arms and tails for legs."

Flipping the coin, she caught it and slapped it down on the back of her other hand. Revealing the coin, they saw it was tails.

"Your legs first, then."

"Okay, Hildy."

Hildy gave the little girl the injection. While that was taking effect, she took her time, tying the tourniquets and making sure that they were tight enough to block blood flow, but not enough to interfere with the pain the little girl would feel.

Kelly was silent, but winced slightly as the tourniquets were tied. She was smiling, though, so Hildy was not too concerned. When the tourniquets were tied, Hildy unstrapped Kelly and slid her down the gurney intil her ass was resting on the end. This left her legs hanging off the end. Then, Hildy strapped Kelly to the qurney again.

"Well," Hildy said, "we are ready to go. All I need is for you to issue the command."


"You need to tell me to grind up your leg. Then, I will roll you over to the table and feed your leg into the grinder."

"Oh," the little girl said. "Grind up my leg."

Hildy smiled and nodded. She turned on the grinder and moved Kelly so the little girl's right leg was just outside the mouth of the grinder.

"Here we go," Hildy said.

The woman pulled the gurney closer and the footless stump of her right leg was fed into the grinder. Immediately, there was crunching as the bone was crushed and ground up.

Kelly could not believe the amount of pain she felt. It was worse than anything she'd ever experienced. It was too late to stop, though, so she just screamed as she watched her leg disappear into the mouth of the grinder. She could see the ground meat coming from the outflow on the grinder.

While she was guiding the little girl's leg into the grinder, she started fingering the child's pussy. Hopefully, Kelly would be able to achieve an orgasm while she lost her leg. After two minutes, the leg was gone up to the knee. The coagulant and tourniquet seemed to be working. There was very little blood loss.

The howls were unceasing even as the little girl shook through an orgasm. Tears were flowing from the little girls eyes. She was, however enjoying this tremendously. The orgasms clearly helped Kelly to enjoy the torture.

After another two minutes, the leg was gone up to her thigh, about two inches below the tourniquet. Hildy wheeled the gurney back and retrieved the iron that would allow her to cauterize the wound. The screams continued as the little girl felt the searing pain of the iron coming into contact with her thigh.

Once the wound was cauterized, the woman bandaged the thigh. She then pushed the gurney back to the table, placing the left leg just outside the mouth of the grinder. After a meaningful glance from Hildy, Kelly remembered that she had a part to play.

"Grind up my other leg." the child said.

With a nod, Hildy fed the left leg into the grinder. She returned to manipulating the little girl's pussy. During the four minutes it took to grind up the left leg, Hildy was able to bring Kelly to three separate orgasms. After the left leg was gone, Hildy cauterized and bandaged the wound.

Kelly lay on the gurney, her chest heaving as she took several deep breaths. The pain had been intense but the little girl managed to avoid losing consciousness. The orgasms helped tremendously.

"Now, little girl," Hildy said, "it is time for your arms."

"Please grind up my arm," Kelly said.

There was no hesitation. Hildy fed the little girl's right arm into the grinder and gently stroked the child's pussy as the crunching again filled the room. The cild was howling again, but there was a difference in the tone. There was a hint of pleasure in those howls.

Being smaller than the legs, it took only half as long to finish them. During the destruction of her two arms, Kelly experienced four separate orgasms. The gurney was soaked with little girl juices. The coagulant and tourniquets did indeed do their job and there was remarmably little blood on the gurney when they were done.

Hildy finished bandaging the little girls cauterized stumps and turned off the grinder. The bowl that had been collecting the ground up meat was completely filled. Hildy covered the bowl with plastic wrap and then set about cleaning the grinder.

"What are you going to do with the meat," Kelly asked.

"Well, you, your friends, and your mothers are having hamburgers for dinner tonight. Thank you for providing the meat."

Kelly was not quite sure how she felt about that. It seemed more than a little weird to be eating hamburgers made out of your own meat. Then she chuckled. That was the least of the weird things to happen to her this week.

"How did you become a torturer," the little girl asked.

"My mother got me into it," Hildy said.

"Your mother?"

"Yes. She was a very nice mom, but she had a serious masochistic streak. She could not reach orgasm without some pain to spice things up. When I was 13 years old, I came home early from school and found someone beating my mother up. I got a knife and chased him off, but later found out that he was only doing what she wanted."

"My father used to take care of her, but he had died three years earlier, when I was ten. Whith him gone, she tried to keep things under wraps. She did not want to scare me. The problem was that, after three years without the abuse and sex she craved, she was getting desperate."

"She'd met the man at a bar the night before and invited him home. He was somewhat reluctant at first, but she was able to talk him around. He was just getting started when I came in. At that point, she broke down and started sobbing in frustration."

"We talked about it for a long time and then came up with the idea that maybe, I could help her out. The man was just a beast. He had no idea at all how to treat a masochist. The way he was going, she would have likely ended up in the hospital. Also, he was hitting her in places that show."

"What people fail to realize is that although someone may be a masochist, they still have a life to lead. They have a job, family, and friends. Showing up with bruises all the time is not acceptable. That would lead to too many questions. If you are going to abuse a masochist, do so in a way that allows the victim to hide the signs of abuse."

"Wow," Kelly said. "What did you do to her?"

"A lot," the woman replied. "We used nipple clamps. I put clamps on her labia and clit. I would torture her with mild shocks of electricity; not enough to cause any real damage, but enough to cause significant pain. I would spank her, whip her, punch her, kick her, spit on her."

"You would kick her?"

"In the crotch. Despite what most men think, they are not the only ones sensitive in that region."

"What do you mean," Kelly asked.

Hildy thought about it and then, drawing her fist back, slammed a blow into the 10-year-old's crotch.

"Fuck," Kelly screamed. "Oh. I am sorry. I am not supposed to talk like that."

""I won't say anything if you won't. That was just my fist. With little room to really wind up and deliver a punishing blow."

"But it hurt so much."

"Right. Now imagine me kicking you there as hard as I could."

The little girl shuddered.

"Now you see."

"And you used to do that to your mother?"

"Not very often, but sometimes, yes."

"How old were you?"

"I was 14 years old."

"So, what happened then?"

"I found out I liked causing pain. I started surfing the internet, looking for masochists in need of punishment."


"I found an ad for this place downtown. They were kind of a fetish club. One of their torturers had just moved away and they needed a replacement. I applied and convinced them to hire me. We had to keep it under wraps because I was still a minor, but the clientele there were perverts. They weren't going to say anything."

"How far have you gone in torturing people. Have you ever done this before?"

"No. You are my first. You have to realize, though, that you are a special case. The kind of things we have just done are not possible for most people. I know you are going to die on Friday. Two or three days with no hands or feet is hard, but not impossible. Most masochists, though, want to keep their limbs."

"So how do you feel about all this?"

"To be honest, I do not know. When Jim hired me for this job, I thought it would be no problem. I must admit to being troubled, though. I look at you and think what that must be like. You cannot even go to the bathroom by yourself now. I understand your mom fed you last night. She will have to do that again tonight."

"I know."

"I do not think I could live like that and it troubles me a bit that I find erotic pleasure in doing it to you."


Hildy stepped back and pulled her pants down. Her panties were soaking wet.

"I have been leaking since I put your right leg into the grinder."


"Yeah. It kind of scares me."

"Well," the 10-year-old said, "if it makes you feel any better, I have been leaking since you put my right leg into the grinder, too."

Hildy smiled at the little girl.

"Want to help each other out," the woman asked.

"How? I don't have any hands."

"Just watch."

Hildy unstrapped the child from the gurney and turned her upside down. The little girl's pussy was indeed sopping.

"Lick me," Hildy said. "I will do the same."

Hildy got on the floor and started licking the preteen pussy. After a minute, Kelly got the idea and returned the favor. They stayed there for two hours, bringing each other to climax after climax.


Thank you for this. i was a little reluctant at first thinking it would be gorier and run straight into the pay off, but you have done an amazing job of getting into the heads of the girls, their mothers and the others involved in the film. now i find that i'm almost as eager as the little girls to see how their ends will turn out.


Thank you for your kind words.


Renee sat in her seat in the torture room. She was waiting for Lilith to return. The woman had made a brief appearance but remembered she needed to talk to Jim and left again. The naked little girl remembered Lilith mentioning pushing a cattle prod in Renee's cunny. Maybe she was going to get that.

Sure enough; when Lilith entered the room, she was pushing a cart with many tools, including the promised cattle prod. There was also a laptop and several things Renee could not identify. Some of them looked quite scary.

"So," Lilith said, "here we are again. Do you remember what I told you yesterday?"

"You're going to use a cattle prod on me."

"Correct," the woman said, picking up the cattle prod. "I'll be using this on you. But, before we do that, there are other things we can do."

The woman strode to the corner of the room and pulled an x-cross into the center of the room. Renee hadn't even noticed the giant wooden 'X' in the corner. There were restraints attached to the ends of the beams, meant to hold the victim with arms and legs spread.

"Come over here, Renee," Lilith said with a smile. "Have you ever seen one of these?"

"No," the 10-year-old said as she went to stand beside the woman.

"You will be spending some time in this. Now turn around and lean back against it."

The little girl did as she was instructed. Being so small, she wasn't even close to the restraints when she stretched her limbs. Lilith smiled and unclipped a wrist cuff. Taking a chain from the cart, she extended the length so the chain would reach the child. She repeated the modification on the other three restraints and then secured the child to the cross.

Returning to the cart, the woman retrieved a small metal item. She started coated it with lubricant and approached the beautiful little black girl.

"Do you know what this is, Renee?"

"It's a buttplug."

"Correct," Lilith said with a smile. "It's a buttplug. Look at the base, though. Do you see those two holes?"

"Yes," Renee replied.

"Those are for electrical leads."

"Oh, god," the child groaned.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't be controlling the strength or duration of the shocks. The leads connect to my laptop over there and a program will control the torture. A lethal shock occurs when the system delivers a level 10 shock. The most you'll be getting will be a level 7. It'll be more than enough to hurt you considerable, but it won't damage you permanently."

"The computer will run a program that randomly selects a level between 1 and 7. It also randomly selects a duration between 2 seconds and 10 seconds. Then randomly selects a random interval between 15 seconds and 45 seconds."

"What does all that mean." Renee asked, the numbers causing her head to spin.

"It means that you will get a jolt between level 1 and level 7. The jolt'll last between 2 and 10 seconds. Then, you'll rest for between 15 and 45 seconds. This'll prevent you from being able to prepare yourself for the next jolt."

"That sounds bad."

"The last person I used it on only lasted 30 minutes before he was begging for me to release him."


"Of course," Lilith said with a smile. "You think I only torture women? No, Renee. I torture anyone I'm paid to torture. You, though, are so fun that I might waive my fee."

"Ouch," the little girl said, wincing as Lilith inserted the metal plug into her asshole.

"Is this the first time you've had something up there?"

"No," Renee said, "but this's bigger than anything that's been up there before."

"Well, that makes sense. Most women I know would find that uncomfortable, but if you think that hurts, wait until I connect the leads and start the program."

After connecting the leads, the woman went to the cart and came back with a needle and a spool of surgical thread. Pinching the little girl's ass cheeks closed around the buttplug, Lilith pushed the needle through first one, then the other cheek, sewing it closed. After 15 stitches, the plug was no longer visible. Only the wires of the leads were visible.

"There," the woman said. "That'll keep it from falling out."

Moving to the front of the little girl, she saw the tears running down her cheeks.

"Are those from the pain or are they from pleasure?"

"Bo...both," Renee said.

"Good. Because here's some more pain for you."

The woman then pushed a two-inch needle through the 10-year-old's left nipple. She picked up another needle and pushed it through the right nipple as well. Using banana plugs with alligator clips, Lilith connected leads from the power regulator.

"You going to shock my titties, again?"

"Yes," Lilith said, "but that's not all."

The woman then pushed a needle through the little pearl that was Renee's clitoris. The howl of agony was almost enough to give Lilith a headache. When the little girl had calmed down, there were banana plugs running from that needle to the machine.

"Oh, wow," Renee said. "That's so intense."

"Oh, we're not done, yet. Once I've taped it up, I'm going to get my flogger and whip your front."

"Won't that knock the needles loose?"

"No. That's why I'm taping it up," the woman said. "The tape will be enough to hold it in place. I won't be whipping your tits. Well, not while the needles are there."

"Oh," the little girl said while Lilith finished securing the needle in place.

Lilith finished taping her up and picked up her flogger. She walked to the machine and flipped the switch. As she pressed the 'Enter' on the laptop's keyboard, the program started. Renee howled in agony as her left nipple recieved a jolt. To the 10-year-old's surprise, only the nipple received the shock.

After eight seconds, the current cut off and the pain diminished. Fifteen second after that, pain ripped through her clit as the current hit there. This time the pain lasted only three seconds before it cut off.

"I thought they'd all be hit at the same time." she said between gasps.

"No. It's the random factor that really makes this torture. You'll never know where the next pain will hit."

Further explanation was useless as the buttplug suddenly activated and the girl shook in her chains and howled like a struck beast. Looking at the laptop, Lilith saw this was a 10-second jolt at level seven. After ten seconds, the current cut off and the girl hung limp, sobbing.

Picking up the flogger, Lilith swung and struck Renee across the abdomen. The child shook and cried from the pain. Lilith kept it up for twenty minutes and when she was done, the little girl had bright red welts from just below her breasts to just above her knees.

"Well, Renee,"Lilith said, putting down the flogger, "I've to go run some errands. I'll be back in about an hour."

Fear blossomed in Renee's mind as Lilith left the room.

'Lilith's going to leave me here,' she thought. 'I'm going to have to endure this alone for almost an hour? Sure, the pain's good, but isn't this overdoing it a bit?'

Then all thoughts were lost to the pain as her left nipple was hit with a shock.


Lilith sat in Jim's office with him, watching Renee on the monitor. The girl had been alone in there for about forty-five minutes. The torture was taking a toll. The randomness of where the pain would hit, how powerful the jolt would be, and how long the jolt would last was really making it impossible for the little black girl to prepare herself.

The randomness of the break duration was also taxing because the 10-year-old never knew when the next jolt would hit. She was howling and crying, tears flowing down her cheeks in rivers. This was the worst pain she'd ever felt.

"How long are you going to leave her like that," Jim asked.

"Another ten minutes. After that, I'll turn off the program and remove the leads. I'll then turn her around on the cross so her back's exposed. I'll whip her back and buttocks for about fifteen minutes. After that, we'll be done for today."

"Sounds good," the man said. "That's an evil system you have there."

"Thank you. It took me about three months to write the code for the randomizer."

"You wrote the program?"

"Of course. I can't make a living being a torturer, Jim. I'm a programmer for a computer company when I'm not here."

"So this is...." Jim prompted.

"Just a hobby. A lucrative hobby, but a hobby nonetheless. Oh, about my fee; I told Renee I might waive it because she's so fun, but that would set a bad precedent. Instead, I'll cut the fee for this job in half. That sound okay?"

The normal fee, twenty-five thousand, was just cut to twelve thousand, five hundred dollars and she wanted to know if that was okay?

"Of course, Lilith. That sounds great."


Lilith re-entered the room during one of the breaks. Renee looked up at her and grinned. The child suddenly went tense and howled in agony as a new cycle began. The laptop indicated that this would be a ten-second jolt at level four.

As soon as the current ceased, Lilith stopped the program. She walked back to the child and pulled the needles from the little girl's nipples. She removed the tape and pulled the needle from the 10-year-old's clitoris.

Renee sighed as she felt the tug as the needles were removed. This had been an intense session, but it was insanely pleasurable. The little girl hadn't been prepared for the degree of pain and pleasure she felt from the torture.

"I'm going to remove your restraints and you'll turn around on this cross," Lilith said. "I'm going to whip your back and buttocks. After fifteen strokes to each cheek and your back, we'll be done."

Using the laptop to restart the program, Lilith picked up the whip. With the butt plug as the only option, her anus would receive all the shocks. As the first jolt hit the little girl, the woman lashed out with the whip, drawing blood as the whip cut into Renee's back.

Renee let out a howl, though it wasn't clear if it was due to the whip or the electricity. She shook as she hung from the cross. Lilith walked over and stroked her victim's ass. It was so beautiful and she regretted that this would be her last chance to play with the girl.

Shaking her head sadly, the torturer walked back and lashed out again with the whip. Again, the whip opened the little girl's flesh as it cut her back. She decided that she should let up a bit. She didn't want to risk cutting the girl too much and causing the child's premature death.

The remaining 13 lashes hurt and raised welts, but didn't cut the girl any further. The welts criss-crossed the child's back. The risk of causing more harm than she really wanted caused Lilith to change her plans. Putting the whip on the cart, she picked up her rattan cane.

She stepped to the side so her strokes would hit only one cheek at a time. The beautiful ass shook as the child quivered in anticipation. Reaching out, the woman lightly stroked the 10-year-old's buttock. The flesh was silky smooth and cool to the touch. It almost seemed a crime to mar that beauty with the welts that would result from the caning.

"Fuck it," Lilith muttered. "I don't have a chance like this very often. It'd actually be a crime to let this chance pass me by."

Drawing her arm back, she let loose a grunt of effort as she brought the cane down on the little girl's ass. The left cheek took the hit and the flesh quivered as Renee howled in pain. Moving to the other side, Lilith let loose a blow to the right cheek.

Alternating laft and right, the woman delivered fifteen cane strokes to each cheek. Between each stroke, the torturer caressed the bruised flesh. It was smooth no longer. It was now hot, the blood gathering in the welts raised by the cane.

During the beating, the electric jolts continued at random intervals and random voltage levels. Between the jolts and the blows from the whip and cane, Renee's pussy was continuously seeping orgasmic juices. The child experienced several orgasms throughout the beating.

Lilith turned off the program and shut down the laptop. Picking up a pair of scissors, she cut through the stitches and pulled the threads from the little girl's flesh. She spread the child's buttocks and pulled the plug from Renee's anus.

As the woman cleaned the needles and the butt plug, Renee wept. The child was trembling. She was taking deep breaths as she came down from multiple orgasms. The pain lingered as her back and ass throbbed. The bruises and cuts provided enough pain to keep the 10-year-old in an orgasmic state.

Lilith finished cleaning the tools and smiled wickedly. She was done with hitting the child, but there was one last bit of torment she could inflict. Soaking a cloth with alcohol, she began to wipe the child's back and ass.

"We can't let these wounds become infected," she said as Renee shrieked due to this new pain.

"We need to clean these wounds and bandage them. None of them are too serious, but if left uncovered, they could complicate things. Infection can cause fever and illness that would negatively affect your ability to perform on Friday."

"No," Renee said as she continued to weep. "We can't let that happen. Thank you, mistress. That was wonderful."

Nothing more was said as Lilith applied a salve to the wounds and covered them with gauze. As she'd told the child, none of the wounds were serious and would be all but gone by Friday. Ah, the resiliency of youth.


At dinner that night, the three girls saw what had become of the others and Renee was shocked. She could not imagine losing her arms and legs. The night before, she had seen that the girls had their hands and feet removed, but this was extreme.

The other two were each now sitting in a chair but they needed a belt around their chests to hold them in place. The other little girls did not seem too upset about this situation. They, in fact, seemed to be enjoying it tremendously.

Everyone except Kelly was surprised to find out that the hamburgers they were eating were made from the meat from Kelly's arms and legs. They weren't sure how they felt about eating meat from a human. That was cannibalism, after all. They had to admit, however, that the burgers were absolutely delicious.

Lauraine looked at her daughter, noticing that the 10-year-old was not surprised.

"Did you know about this, Kelly?"

"Yep," the little girl said with a smile. "Hildy told me that this was what they were going to do."


"She is the person who put my arms and legs through the grinder. It felt great!"

"What do you mean," her mother asked. "You mean they were still attached to you when it happened?"

"Of course. I was fully awake when she destroyed my hands and feet. I wanted to feel the destruction of my arms and legs as well."

"Wow," said Tyra. "I thought I was extreme just by having my arms and legs amputated. That, though, was over very quickly."

"I wonder," Renee said. "Does all girl meat taste this good?"

"Well," said Jim. "We have Tyra's arms and legs. Should we have barbecue tomorrow night?"

He'd been joking, and was surprised when, after a few moments, everyone agreed to the idea.

"That would be great," Tyra said.

"I," he said hesitatingly, "I was just kidding."

"So," Tyra asked. "It'd be great and after eating some of Kelly, I'm curious about how I would taste. Aren't you curious?"

"I am," he replied, "but it..."

"It's not like it's going to hurt me any. The limbs are already gone. And think. Do you really want to waste that meat? That would be terrible."

Jim sighed.

"Do all of you feel this way," he asked unnecessarily as he saw the others nod in unison.

"Okay. Tomorrow will be Tyra barbecue."

"Great," Tyra said enthusiastically.

"Now," he said, "we need to change the topic. We need to discuss Friday."

"Yeah," Leanne said. "How are we going to do this?"

"Well, we can do the girls simultaneously. We have the three camera crews and three suitable studios. We would, however need to start early."

"How early," Monique asked.

"I am thinking eight o'clock," he said. "I understand that both Tyra and Kelly have asked to be tortured a bit more before losing their heads."

"What," Lauraine asked, surprised at her daughter's request.

"Well Tyra wants her mother to really hurt her. Meaning that she wants Leanne to beat her severly. An hour ago, Kelly heard about it and decided that she wanted the same thing, if Lauraine will agree."

"I," the redheaded mother, said, "I don't know if I can."

"If not, then we can get Hildy to do it."

"Let me talk to Kelly about this tonight. I'll let you know tomorrow. is that okay?"


"What about me," Renee asked. "Can I get some more, too?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well," the black 10-year-old said hesitantly, "I was interested when Kelly was talking about how it felt to have her arms and legs destroyed. I was wondering if we could get my mom to do something similar to me."

"What," Monique asked.

"Well," Renee said, "you are going to be removing my head. Could you use something like a hammer or something to break my arms and legs?"

"Something tells me that you are not asking for a simple break."

"Well, I was thinking that maybe you could smash my hands and then slowly work your way up my arms. Then you would do my feet and slowly work your way up my legs."

"Fuck me," Monique muttered. "I suppose I can do that. Are you really sure, baby?"

"Yes, mommy. Please do this for me."

"Fuck," the mother said again. "Ok. We'll do that."

"Now that we have addressed that," Jim said. "We come to the details. We can give you each an hour for your final torture. After that, we need to cut your heads off."

"Renee," he said, turning to the little black girl, "we have been able to arrange to grant your wish."

"You mean...."

"Yes," he said. "Lauraine knows some resourceful people and one of them is an experienced demolitions technician. He's agreed to create shaped charges that we'll place around your throat. When they go off, they'll obliterate your neck, launching your head into the air."

"Wow," the little girl said. "Awesome."

"Tyra," he said turning to the blonde little girl. "Your mom is going to gut you alive and then as you are bleeding out, she'll use a butcher knife to cut off your head. Is that right?"

"Yes, Jim," the little girl agreed.

He turned to look at the little redheaded 10-year-old.

"How are you wanting your mother to remove your head?"

"Garden shears."


"I saw this guy trimming hedges and he had these long-handled garden shears with long blades. If we can get some, I'd like Mommy to use them to cut my head off."

"I have some of those at home," Jim said. "Lauraine, are you okay with that?"

"Yes," the redheaded mother said. "I can do that."

"Then," he said, "we should be done with the girls by nine thirty."

"Then what," Monique asked.

"Well, all three of you have requested the same executioner. This means that we'll have to do you one at a time. One will go at ten o'clock, one will go at noon, and the last one will go at two o'clock that afternoon. It will take less than an hour to kill each of you, but we want to give the executioner time to rest between jobs."

"That sounds fine," Leanne said.

"The question," he continued, "is this. Who goes first, who goes second, and who goes last? Do any of you have any preference?"

No one said anything.

"Then," he said, pulling a bag from under the table, "I had the idea of having a drawing. In this bag are nine dominoes. blank-one through blank-nine. Lowest goes first, highest goes last. Does that sound okay?"

"Sure," Monique said. "Let's do it."

The three mothers each drew a domino from the back and looked at them.

"Looks like I go first," Monique said, displaying the blank-one.

"Can you beat a seven," Lauraine asked Leanne as she displayed the blank-seven.

"Yep," Leanne said showing the blank-eight.

"So," Jim said, "the order is Monique at ten o'clock, Lauraine at noon, and Leanne at two o'clock. Well, ladies, is that satisfactory?"

"I am fine with it," Lauraine said.

"Me too," said Monique.

"And me," Leanne added.

"Okay," Jim said. "Tomorrow's a free day. Think about what you'd like to do and we'll see if we can get it done."

"Can we have an orgy," Kelly asked.

"What," her mother asked, shocked at her daughter's request.

"Yesterday and today, I've been so horny, I'm going nuts."

"Me too," Tyra said.

"Yeah," the little black girl said making it unanimous among the little starlets.

"If your mothers agree, I don't see why not. You six could have all day tomorrow to enjoy yourselves."

"What about you," Tyra asked.

"What about me," he asked in response.

"Well, I'd like you to be there too. If I'm dying on Friday, I want to lose my virginity before then."

Kelly and Renee nodded in agreement.

Jim looked to the mothers.

"Don't look at me, Jim," Leanne said. "I think I'd like a good fuck or three as well."

"Yeah," Monique said.

"Oh, why the fuck not," he said. "Okay. I'll be there, too. I have work to do tomorrow, though, so I'll only be able to be there some of the time."

"Sounds good to me," Lauraine said with a smile. She was looking forward to seeing Jim fuck her limbless daughter. It was an interesting mental image.

They finished their meals and Jim left as the mothers and daughters discussed the next day's activities.

"Mommy," Tyra said. "What did he mean when he said you all asked for the same executioner. I thought you were going to kill me."

"I am, sweetie," Leanne said. "I will be the one to kill you. The executioner he mentioned is Carol."

"Carol is going to kill you?"

Leanne looked at the other two mothers, who nodded. No harm in the girls knowing now.

"Yes, baby. Carol is going to cut my head off."

"She will smother me," Lauraine said.

"She will help the men split me in two," Monique added.

"Wow," Tyra said. "That is intense."

"You didn't think I would let you experience a horribly painful death without me experiencing the same, did you," Leanne asked.

"Oh, mommy. I thought you didn't like the pain."

"I'll admit that I'm not fond of it, but watching you while I removed your arms and legs made me curious."

Tyra looked at the other little girls and smiled.

"Thank you, mommy."

"For what?"

"For coming with me. For dying with me."

'Dying for you,' Leanne thought.

The girls and mothers spent the remainder of the evening discussing the orgy tomorrow and then their executions on Friday.


Filming ~ Day 9

"Naylor residence," Carol said as she answered the phone.

It was seven-thirty in the morning. She'd been up for about an hour and was reading the newspaper as she drank her coffee.

"Carol," the voice said, "it's Bernadette. Can you come to the office this morning?"

"Sure. Is there a problem?"

"No. The ladies and their daughters just asked if you could come in."


"They're having an all-day orgy and wanted you to join."

Carol had nothing planned for the day so there was no real reason to say no.

"Is Jim going to be participating?"

"Sometimes. He has things to do and needs to leave the office to do them."

"What about you?"

"I might join in if the other women would like, but no one has asked me, so I don't know."

"Well, I need to take a shower, but I'll be there around nine-thirty."

"I'll let the others know."


As Carol turned the car off and got out, Bernadette came out.

"They've been at it since eight o'clock. The little girls' stamina is amazing."

"Well," Carol said, "one of the nice things about being female is our ability to have multiple orgasms in a short period. I'm sure their mothers will recover quickly."

The two walked into the office and went into the break room. The three mothers were all naked, sitting around a table, drinking coffee. Renee was alternating between watching TV and caressing or licking the other little girls. They, on the other hand, were propped up on pillows so they could kiss each other.

"Hi, Carol," Leanne said. "Have you come to join our orgy?"

"Well, Bernadette told me there was an interesting get-together happening here today and thought I might like to participate."

"You're a bit overdressed," Monique said.

The black mother had apparently gotten over her body image problem. The fact that Jim had fucked her silly three times last Saturday probably helped. Smiling at the three mothers, Carol remedied the issue Monique mentioned.

Once she was naked, she joined the mothers at the table.

"Thank you for coming," Leanne said. "We'd been discussing last weekend and when the girls suggested an orgy for today, we thought you should join us."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Has Jim been here?"

"He was here for about an hour, but had to go to a meeting in town. He'll be back around eleven o'clock."

"Kelly and Tyra look amazing," Carol said. "They seem to be accepting their condition well enough."

"They're wonderful," Lauraine said. "They're very happy with their condition. The only issue they had was the help they need when using the toilet."

"Well," Leanne said, "without legs, it's possible for them to slip through the hole in the toilet seat so we had to get a toddler's trainer seat for them. Also, they're embarrassed when we have to wipe them."

"I see. That must be uncomfortable."

"Leanne and I have no issue with it," the redheaded mother said, taking a sip from her coffee. "After all, we did it for years when they were infants. And right now, they're very much like infants again. We feed them, we clean them, and we play with them."

Carol thought about that for a few minutes.

"How's Renee handling their condition?"

"Renee has been wonderful," Leanne replied. "She has been helping with the care and feeding of the two since yesterday. She doesn't leave them alone at all."

"She's very jealous," Monique said. "She wants me to destroy her arms and legs tomorrow before I kill her."

Carol was relieved to see that there was no hesitation when Monique mentioned killing Renee. Hopefully, that meant she'd accepted it and would be able to go through with it without too much difficulty.

"Does she? Wow. I don't think I could do that."

"Nor me," Monique said.

"But aren't you the one who's going to be ripped in half," Lauraine asked.

"Yes," the black woman said, "but there's a major difference. Renee's expecting me to take between twenty to forty minutes to destroy her limbs. I don't think that me being ripped in half will take more than three to four minutes."

"Well," Carol said, "that's certainly true."

"I think I could handle practically anything for three to four minutes."

Carol wasn't so sure, but decided not to argue the point. It would all be a moot point after tomorrow.

They finished their coffees and joined the little girls on the floor. Carol stroked Tyra's torso, lightly brushing her fingers over the bandaged stumps of the 10-year-old blonde's shoulders and hips.


"Wow, Tyra," the woman said. "You're amazing."

"Thank you," Tyra said with a sigh.

The blonde 10-year-old trembled with pleasure as Carol's hands passed over her prepubescent breasts. Goosebumps rose wherever Carol's hands touched.

"Like this," Carol said, "do you?"

"Oh, yes," breathed the little girl.


Leanne, seeing that Carol had Tyra well in hand, joined Lauraine with Renee. Monique had gone to play with the other amputee. The mothers weren't too sure about engaging in sex with their own daughters.


Carol lowered her mouth to Tyra's chest and lightly ran her tongue over the little girl's nipple. Tyra trembled a little more and Carol could see that the 10-year-old's pussy was leaking. Reaching down with her right hand, she caressed the hairless slit.

"Oh," Tyra moaned.

Tyra was sopping. Carol was pleased and slid her finger into the little girl. It was hot and tight, but the juices Tyra was excreting made penetration easy. She lightly pressed her finger to the front wall of the preteen's vagina and Tyra shuddered.

"Fuck," the little girl said. "That's amazing."

Carol said nothing as she trailed her tongue down the child's chest and stomach. She brought her mouth to the hairless slit and ran her tongue up the folds of flesh. When her tongue reached the clitoris, the little girl shook in pleasure as an orgasm ripped through her.

"Let me do you," the little girl said.

Carol kept stroking the little girl as she repositioned herself. Placing her knees on either side of Tyra's head, she lowered her lightly furred pussy to the child's lips. Tyra stuck her tongue out and licked at the woman's labia, but had little success in penetrating.

"I am sorry," the 10-year-old said, "but can you spread your pussy for me? I can't do it."

Carol rose up and used her fingers to spread the labia and allow the little girl access to her inner lips and clitoris. Tyra plunged her tongue deep into the woman's vagina and licked the inside.

"Oh, Tyra," Carol said. "That feels so good."

Tyra didn't bother to say anything. She just started running her tongue up and down Carol's slit and tickling the clitoris. This continued for about two minutes before Carol nearly drowned the child in orgasmic ejaculate.

Carol had always been a squirter and the amount of fluid discharged was quite large. When Carol came down from her orgasm, she looked back to Tyra and saw the little girl's face and hair was soaked. Tyra blinked as she tried to flush the ejaculate from her eyes,

"Oh, baby," Carol said in alarm. "I'm sorry. I forgot how much I cum."

Grabbing a hand towel from the counter, she wiped Tyra's eyes and face. When she'd dried the child's face, Tyra was smiling.

"Liked that," the little girl said, echoing Carol's statement earlier. "Did you?"

Carol grinned.

"Yes, you little minx. I did."

Carol picked Tyra up and headed for the shower.

"Let's get cleaned up and watch the others."

Tyra smiled at the thought.


Leanne and Lauraine were both playing with Renee. Leanne was straddling the little black girl, letting the child lick her to multiple orgasms while the red-headed mother seemed to be trying to lick the 10-year-old's belly button from the inside.

"Oh, fuck," Renee moaned. "That feels so good."

Lauraine was happy the little girl enjoyed it. As far as Lauraine was concerned, Renee was absolutely delicious. The little girl had been leaking girlcum since the first lick and it was the sweetest thing Lauraine had tasted in quite a while.

Leanne knew that when the little girl came down from her orgasm, she'd get back to licking her. In the meantime, she ran her hands over Renee's breasts. They were at least a b-cup, maybe even a c-cup. No child should have breasts that large. They appeared to be sensitive, though. It took only a light touch to cause the nipples to become erect.

Waiting for Renee to return to licking her out, Leanne looked over and saw Carol squirt all over Tyra's face and head. Her daughter's hair became soaked and matted to the little girl's head. Well, that sure surprised her. Seeing Tyra blinking rapidly, she realized the problem and was about to get up when Carol got a towel and started wiping the girl off.


Carol sat on the floor of the shower. She held Tyra in place as she washed the girl's torso. The limbless girl moaned appreciatively as the woman gently stroked her preteen slit. This was the third orgasm the 10-year-old'd enjoyed since they entered the shower.

By this point, both of them were squeaky clean but neither was in a hurry to return to the others. Carol kissed the little girl and slid down to slip her tongue into Tyra's hairless slit. The little girl tasted sweet.

"Oh, God, Carol," Tyra moaned. "That feels so good."

Carol didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She just drove her tongue deeper into the child, driving the little girl into yet another mindblowing orgasm.

"Oh," the 10-year-old moaned. "Oh. Oh. Oh!"

Carol was surprised when the girl squirted on her. Then she realized it was not ejaculate, but urine. The little girl had lost control of her bladder. The urine flowed into Carol's hair, eyes, nose, and mouth.

Carol was surprised to find that the urine was a bit salty, but not really unpleasant. She drank it down as she continued to lap at the child's cunt. The flow lasted only a few seconds, but that was natural for such a small girl.

Tyra was surprised. She knew that she had peed, but Carol had not objected at all. To the 10-year-old's surprise. the woman appeared to be drinking the nasty stuff. Tyra was fascinated and more than a little turned on.

"How does it taste," Tyra asked.


"How does my pee taste? You drank it, right?"

"I did," Carol confirmed. "It was a bit salty, but not bad."

"I wish I could have tasted it," the little girl said.

Suddenly, the little girl had an idea.

"Carol," she said, "can you pee on me?"

"Excuse me," the woman asked in astonishment.

She'd been peed on by accident, yet the child was asking for her to return the favor.

"Pee on me," the 10-year-old said. "I want to see what it's like."

"Are you sure," Carol asked, not entirely sure that she wanted to do as the child asked.

"Yes," Tyra confirmed. "Pee on me, Carol. Please, pee on me."

Carol shook her head and stood up. She turned off the shower so there would be no confusing the issue, Straddling the little girl's head, she reached down and spread her labia. Pushing down, a small stream of urine flowed from her cunt and fell on the little girl's face.

Tyra was surprised. It was warm and salty, but, as Carol said, it wasn't unpleasant. Tyra let the flow fill her mouth, then swallowed. While she was swallowing, her mouth closed and the urine splashed on her lips, nose, and chin.

Tyra opened her mouth and let the flow fill her mouth again. Swallowing again, she opened her mouth again, but there was not enough urine to fill the child's mouth a third time. Swallowing the last of Carol's urine, the little girl smiled.

"Delicious," the child said.

Carol turned on the shower and cleaned herself and the child yet again. She dried the little girl and herself. Carrying the 10-year-old, she walked back to the orgy.


Leanne looked up as movement in the corner of her sight drew her attention. Carol was holding Tyra and smiling at the other three women and two little girls. Leanne had her tongue buried deep in Renee's cunt and was enjoying the taste of the nectar the little black girl was excreting.

The redheaded mother had given in and was licking her daughter's ass. Kelly was lying face down and her mother had the 10-year-old redhead's ass cheeks spread. Lauraine was in the process of driving her tongue into her daughter's asshole.

"Oh, Mommy," Kelly gasped. "That feels so good. Please try to go deeper."

Lauraine, realizing that her tongue would only go so far, pulled back from her daughter's ass and, spitting on her fingers, pushed two of the fingers of her left hand into her daughter's rectum. She smiled as the little redheaded 10-year-old sighed in pleasure.

"More," the little girl moaned.

Lauraine spit on the girl's anus and tried to push more into the little girl's ass.

"There is Crisco in the cupboard," Bernadette said from the doorway. "That might help."

Carol walked to the cupboard and retrieved the Crisco. She opened the container and saw that it was almost full. She set the container on the floor beside Lauraine.

"Thanks," the redhead said. "That will help a lot."

"It has the added effect of being tasteless," Bernadette said with a smile. "This way, if you're so inclined, you can return to licking her without worrying about tasting nasty lubricants."

"I don't mind admitting that I was concerned about that," Lauraine said.

"Mommy," Kelly moaned, frustrated with the fact that her mother had stopped trying to fit more fingers up her butt. "More."

Lauraine smiled at Bernadette and, using her right hand, scooped out some grease and slathered it on the little girl's anus. She then covered her left hand with the cooking grease.
She put two fingers into her daughter's anus, amazed at how easily they slid into the orifice.

"Oh, God," the little girl moaned. "That feels so good. Keep going."

After gently spreading the little girl's orifice, Lauraine was able to fit three fingers into the orifice. The mother added more Crisco to the little girl's butt and her own hand. She then pushed four fingers into the little girl's asshole.

Kelly shuddered in pleasure. This was intense. How had she failed to recognize the potential for pleasure there? Her mother was going relatively slow, but Kelly could tell that, given a little more time and effort, the mother would be able to fit her entire hand in there.

"God, mommy," she said. "This is awesome. Please keep going. Put your whole hand in there and keep pushing."

Lauraine was surprised at the little girl's request, but tried to comply. She pulled her hand from her daughter's ass and retrieved more of the cooking grease. Slathering more on her left hand, she tucked her thumb in with the other four fingers and started pushing her hand into the 10-year-old's ass.

By this point, Monique was sitting on a couch, watching the mother fist her little girl. Leanne was also enthralled in the procedures. Renee moaned in disappointment, feeling neglected.

"Me too," the little black girl said. "Do that to me, too."

Leanne and Renee moved closer and the blonde mother started coating Renee's asshole with the cooking grease.

"No," Monique said, rising to her feet. "Let me do it."

Moving to her daughter, the black woman scooped out some Crisco and started covering her fingers and hands. She slid a finger into her daughter's asshole and was amazed at how tight the little orifice was.

Renee moaned in pleasure. This was so good. She was surprised that her mother would be willing to do this, but loved the fact the the older woman would agree to help her daughter in this way.

"Roll onto your side," Monique instructed her daughter.

As Renee moved to do as her mother asked, Monique moved to place her mouth on her daughter's cunt. The mother started lapping at her daughter's clit.

"Oh, fuck," the little black girl moaned. "Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!"

Monique slid another finger in and smiled. This was getting good.


Leanne moved to the couch and was joined by Carol and Tyra.

"Did you have fun, sweetie," Leanne asked her daughter as they watched the two mother-daughter pairs writhe in pleasure on the floor.

"Yep," the little girl said with an impish grin. "I did."

"What about you," Carol asked. "Are you having fun?"

"Much more than I was anticipating," the mother said.

"She peed on me, Mommy," Tyra said.


The amazement was there, but Carol was not sure if it was due to the fact that Carol had pissed on her daughter or the fact that her daughter seemed to enjoy it.

"She peed on me. I also peed on her. It was delicious."

"You drank it," Leanne asked incredulously.

"Yep," the 10-year-old said.

"Surprisingly," Carol said, "it was actually quite pleasant, although that may have been due to the sexual nature of the encounter."

"How did it taste," Leanne asked her daughter.

"It was kind of salty and warm, but it was delicious."

"I might have to try it."

"How did that start," Carol asked, indicating the fisting session on the floor.

"I am not really sure. At some point, I think Lauraine was licking Kelly's ass, and then, she had her finger in the little girl's butt."

"That's right," Bernadette said, taking a seat on the couch. "It just escalated from there. Kelly apparently liked the feel of the finger in her ass and begged her mom for more."


"Yeah. Then, Renee saw what was going on and decided to try it. Apparently, she likes it, too."

The redheaded mother had her entire hand in her 10-year-old's bowels. It was inserted up to an inch above her wrist. She was amazed that her daughter could handle it. Reaching back with her other hand, she started sliding a finger into her own anus.

It felt amazing. It may have been the sexual lust in the heat of the moment, but Lauraine agreed that it'd be worth pursuing. After all, she'd be dead tomorrow. Why not investigate this possibility.

"Leanne," the redheaded mother said, "I have a favor to ask."

Leanne looked at Carol and Tyra. They all knew where this was headed.

"Yes, Lauraine," Leanne asked.

"Would you be willing to try to fist my butt? Kelly seems to be enjoying it. Renee seems to like it, too. I'm curious."

"I could do that," Leanne said as she slipped to the floor behind Lauraine.

The blonde mother scooped out some Crisco and covered her left hand. She then coated Lauraine's anus. Due to Lauraine's previous anal manipulations, Leanne was able to slide three fingers in with no problem.

"Go, mom," Tyra said. "Fist that butt."

Carol reached down and started stroking her own clit. Seeing Tyra's excitement, Carol also started fingering the little girl. Both moaned in pleasure as they watched the fisting orgy that was occurring in front of them.

"I think I wanna try that," Tyra whispered.

"Are you sure," Carol asked. "I can help with that if you would like."

"I think I want my mommy to do it."

Carol did not hesitate. She went to Leanne and whispered to her.

"Tyra wants you to fist her ass. I can take over here if you are willing."

Leanne didn't respond. She just withdrew her fingers from the redhead's ass and moved to her daughter. As Carol coated her left hand and slid three fingers into Lauraine's butt, Leanne lifted Tyra and set her on the floor.

Bernadette stretched out on the couch and watched the orgy. Three 10-year-old girls, each fingered and fisted in their asses by their own mothers, were moaning in pleasure. The redheaded mother was echoing those moans as Carol went from three fingers, to four fingers, and finally, her entire fist up the redhead's ass.

Carol had known that it was possible, but had never thought that she would have her hand in another woman's ass. Applying more Crisco, she slid more of her arm into her friend's ass. It took a while, but she was able to get her entire forearm in the other woman's butt. Before she knew it, she was up to her elbow in the woman's butt.

"Oh, god," Lauraine moaned. "That is amazing. How did I never think to try this before?"

The little girls were lost in the explosive orgasms brought about by their mother's actions. Leanne could not believe it, but Tyra was moaning and shaking as one orgasm after another wracked the 10-year'old's limbless body.

Jim came back and undressing, joined the orgy again. Throughout the afternoon, he fucked all three little girls, there mothers, Carol, and even Bernadette. He never new he could cum so much.

Bernadette, having seen enough, got up and left the room. Everything seemed to be progressing nicely. The receptionist was pleased the women and children were enjoying themselves. She knew that how things would occur the next day and hoped that the pleasure would balance the pain they'd encounter.

The orgy continued until eight o'clock that night. At that point, the three women and their daughters passed out from exhaustion. Completely sexually sated, they enjoyed wonderful orgasmic dreams.


Very nice so far.

Looking forward to the final killings, Tyra and Leanne especially. :D


Filming ~ Day 10

Carol woke to the annoying sound of her alarm. Looking at the clock, she saw it was six o'clock.

"Fuck," the psychologist moaned. "I cannot believe that we did that yesterday."

The orgy had lasted until eight o'clock, but then, she and Jim had come back to her house and fucked for three more hours. Jim had left around midnight.

'At least,' she thought, 'Jim will be exhausted as well.'

She got up, showered, and ate. After getting dressed, she left the house and headed for the studio. It was six forty-five.


Leanne woke to the smell of fried bacon. The smell was wonderful and drew the blonde woman to the break room. Bernadette stood at the stove. Hearing a noise behind her, she looked back and saw the naked woman in the doorway.

"Breakfast in ten minutes," Bernadette said. "Can you wake the others?"

"Sure," Leanne said. "What time is it?"

"It's six thirty. We have ninety minutes until we begin shooting."

"Ninety minutes," Leanne said quietly as she turned to go wake the others.


Breakfast was delicious. Leanne didn't know anything about 'last meals', but for her own, this was great.

The other women, much quieter than the three little girls, seemed to be enjoying their last meals as well. The little girls, however, didn't even seem to notice the food in front of them. They were completely absorbed in their conversation about the events planned for the morning.

"Good," Jim said, walking into the room. "You're all up."

"You look like hell," Bernadette said.

"Carol kept me up until one o'clock last night."

"Bullshit," Carol said as she entered the room. "I wasn't the one who kept demanding more at eleven o'clock."

"What can I say," Jim asked with a grin. "You're just too sexy."

The little girls giggled as the mothers looked at each other.

"Anyway," Jim continued, "we begin shooting in thirty minutes. Are you all ready?"

The six actresses looked at each other and nodded nervously.

"Okay. We'll be filming Tyra, Kelly, and Renee simultaneously. Monique, Lauraine, and Leanne, you'll be taking care of them in the room where they were tortured earlier this week. You'll have ninety minutes to kill them. After that, we'll take a thirty minute break before shooting Monique's segment at ten o'clock. Are there any questions?"

No one had any questions, so Jim left them to finish their meals and get ready.


"Jim," Carol said as she left the room to follow him. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he replied. "Let's go to my office."

Entering the office, he took the seat behind the desk while Carol took the seat in front of it.

"What would you like to talk about," he asked.

"You," Carol replied. "How are you doing?"

"Me," he asked incredulously. "Shouldn't you be more concerned with them?"

"No. I spent all day with them yesterday. They are, if not looking forward to their impending deaths, completely at peace with the idea. You're the one who is having difficulty with this."

"God damn it, Carol. Of course, I'm having difficulty. In a little less than two hours, three little girls - three 10-year-old little girls - will be dead. And I'll be the cause for it."

"See," Carol asked. "That's why I am concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about this. Even if you weren't making this movie, those little girls would likely be dead within a year. They were well on their way to having an unfortunate 'accident'. At least this way, there's no surprise. They were able to finish those things they wanted before they leave this world."


"No, Jim," she said. "No 'buts'. This's the reality of the situation. This's why I pressed you to continue with this after I researched this issue. They want this. The mother's are accepting of their children's wishes and are willing to give the girls what they want."

"And their deaths," he asked. "What about the mother's deaths."

"As a mother, I can understand them. If I knew that my daughter had been suffering and I'd been unable to prevent it, I'd be devastated. The only way their suffering can end is in death. The mothers are helping even though their maternal nature is at war with the logical conclusion that this must happen."

"That conflict between the emotional and logical aspects of each mother will cause a downward spiral that'll lead to her own death. By allowing them to join their daughters in death, we prevent the mental torture they'd endure."


"Jim. I said no 'buts' and I meant it. This sucks, but it's the best, and I do mean best, outcome for which we could hope."

"Even though you'll be assisting in the deaths of the three mothers?"

"Like I said, it sucks. They are, however, my friends and I find I'm having difficulty refusing to aid them."

"Ok," Jim said, not convinced, but feeling more at ease. "I'll continue with this. I'm not sure we should release this film, though. It seems wrong to profit off of the deaths of these women."

"You have to release this film," Carol said. "You must. If you don't, their deaths will have been for nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"This film's going to push a lot of buttons. Buttons people didn't even know existed. This film will cause the development of a discussion that'll echo all the way up to the highest courts."

"Aren't you blowing this out of proportion?"

"Maybe," Carol conceded. "But the point is the same. Your competitors won't hesitate to take advantage of children thanks to the legislation that allowed this creation of this film. Parents need to know that there are other options."

"What other options?"

"If you'll allow, I'll arrange for you to appear on a television talk show once this movie is released. During the interview, you can address your concerns. Let people know about the dangers posed by going to just any production company. Let them know that there are companies that value the wishes of their stars as much, if not more, than the profits such films generate."

"What companies?"

"Well," Carol said, "yours, for one."

"I don't know, Carol. I honestly think I'm done after this."

"You can't do that, Jim."

"Why the fuck not?"

"For the same reason you made this film to begin with. As much as you hate this, you hate the thought of those little children being grossly exploited by your competitors even more."

"Fuck," Jim hissed, knowing he couldn't argue that point.

"If you knew that you could provide what the children want without the cruel abuse your competitors will employ, you couldn't allow your competitors free reign over this industry. You may not save all the children. You may not even save most of them. But if you could save some of them, shouldn't you?"

"Fuck," Jim repeated.

"Anyway, I wish you wouldn't beat yourself up over this. It has to happen. You lost control over this the second the little girls heard that they'd be killed at the end of this movie. If you cancelled the production, your competitors would've snatched it up in a heartbeat."

"Fuck," he said a third time.

"Anyway, pour me a drink. Not much. I'll need to be clear-headed when I go to work this morning. I just want a little something to take the edge off."

"Sounds good," he said, rising to retrieve the brandy.


Renee entered the room and squealed in joy when she saw the sledgehammer in the corner. Monique followed her daughter into the room and sighed heavily when she saw the hammer.

"Are you sure you want this," Monique asked her daughter as she moved to the hammer.

"Yes, Mommy," the 10-year-old said. "I really want it. I want you to use that hammer and smash my bones."

"Okay, baby, but once I start, there's no stopping until I'm done."

"That's just the way I want it," the little girl said.

There was a narrow mat on the floor. It was just wide enough to fully-support the child's torso. Renee moved to the mat and lay down. She reached out, so her arms were fully on the cement floor.

"Do it, Mommy. Smash my hands."

Monique sighed heavily. She had to do it. She hadn't been sure she could, but the look in Renee's eyes - the look that begged for her mommy to abuse her - urged her on. She raised the hammer high over her head and looked down at her daughter.

"Last chance, baby."

"Do it, Mommy."

The black woman brought the hammer down with as much force as she could. The head of the hammer slammed into the 10-year-old's left hand and there was a loud crunch immediately followed by a shriek of agony. Looking at her daughter's hand, it looked mashed.

"More, Mommy. Keep going."

The mother raised the hammer again and brought it down on the child's wrist. Another crunching sound was followed by another shriek, but this one was a little different in tone. Looking at her daughter, the child's face had gone slack, but there was a river of girlcum flowing from the 10-year-old's cunt.

"Are you enjoying this, baby," Monique asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes, mommy. It hurts, but it also feels so good. Keep going."

It really didn't make any sense to the mother, but, she realized, it didn't have to. As long as Renee seemed to be enjoying it, Monique would continue. It wasn't really like there'd be lasting consequences. After all, within ninety minutes, the little girl would have her fucking head blown off.

The mother continued the destruction of the limb. It took about ten minutes. The next to last hit on the left arm was off a little and the head of the hammer hit the cement, not the arm. The shock travelled up the handle of the hammer and stung the mother's hands.

"Fuck," she screamed. "That hurts."

Renee laughed.

"Hey," the mother objected. "You may like the pain, but I'm not overly fond of it."

"I'll be right back," Monique said as she left the room.

"That's okay, Mommy," Renee said, grinning ear to ear. "I'll wait right here."

Monique returned a few minutes later with a 3-foot by 3-foot square of plywood.

"This should absorb the shock if I miss again," the mother said, placing the piece of wood below the child's arm.

As she went to place the wood, she realized that Renee was in no position to be able to move her arm. Monique bent and took the child's smashed hand in her own. The resultant shriek of pain scared her to the point that she dropped the hand. This resulted in even more shrieks.

"I am sorry, baby," the mother said.

"Fuck that," Renee shouted, realizing what she said and lowering her tone. "That felt unbelievable. The mix of pain and pleasure is awesome. Do it again."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Monique picked up the child's hand again. She ignored the shrieks as she slid the plywood underneath.

She picked up the hammer again and brought it down on the plywood. She purposely missed the child's arm in an attempt to see how the wood would absorb the shock. She was delighted to find that there was no reverberatng shock sent up the handle.

"Here we go, again," she said to no one.

"Do it, Mommy. Finish my arm."

Monique brought the hammer down again and crushed the bone just below the shoulder. The 10-year-old moaned, her right hand moving to her preteen cunt as she stroked herself to another orgasm.

"Mommy," Renee said. "Can you do my legs before you do my other arm? I want to be able to have fun with my cunny while you do it."

"Sure," Monique said. "I can do that."

She placed the plywood below the little girl's left foot. Raising the hammer, she brought it down on the foot and heard the crunch of bones breaking. It was not, however, enough to destroy the foot as Renee wanted.

"Again, Mommy. You might have to work harder on my feet and legs. The bones are bigger."

The mother took two more blows before Renee was satisfied that her foot was sufficiently demolished. That seemed to be par for the course. Where only one blow was needed for the arm, it took three blows to achieve the same results on the feet and legs.

Knowing what she was doing now, Monique was faster, but the increased number of blows meant that it took twenty minutes to destroy the left leg. She looked at her daughter and was shocked to see the flood of cum pouring from the 10-year-old's cunt.

She moved the plywood again, placing it under the right foot. Sighing, she raised the hammer and began again. She found herself picking up speed. The blows were coming faster and faster as she went on with the child's torture. She had to wonder if it was really torture if the child appreciated it.

After another twenty minutes, the right leg was pulverised. The mother moved the plywood and asked her daughter to put her right arm out.

"It's time, baby. We need to do your right arm, now."

"I know, Mommy. Just wait a moment. I want to come again."

Monique waited and watched as her daughter furiously rubbed herself to her sixth or seventh orgasm of the morning. As she child came down from the orgasmic high, she placed her arm on the plywood.

"Now, Mommy," she said calmly. "Destroy my arm now."

The mother didn't pause. She just raised her hammer and brought it down on the hand. Like with the left hand, it only took one blow to crush the hand.

"Oh, God," Renee moaned. "So good."

Shaking her head in wonderment, the mother continued up the arm. Blow after blow rained down on the little girl's arm as Monique moved up the arm an inch at a time. After ten minutes, she was done. All four limbs had been reduced to pulp.

Leaning the plywood against the wall, Monique returned to her daughter. There were twenty minutes left before she had to kill the little girl. Getting on the floor, she moved between the child's legs and began licking the juices up.

"Oh, Mommy," Renee said. "That feels so good."

Keeping her eyes on the clock, the mother sucked and licked her daughter's cunt and clit, drawing two more orgasms in five minutes. Wiping her face with her hand, Monique rose to her feet and looked down at her daughter.

"It's time," the 10-year-old said with a grin. "Isn't it? It's time to blow my head off."

"Yes, baby," Monique said. "It is time."

The mother left the room for a moment and returned with Jim and a strange man. In the man's hand, he had what looked to be a necklace.

"Is that it," Renee asked.

"This is it, little girl," the man said, bending low to fasten the necklace around the child's neck. "Your mommy will hold the remote. When you and she are ready, she will press the button. Five seconds later, the charges will blow and your head will come off."

"Can you help me sit up? I don't want to lie here when it goes off. I want my head to go up in the air."

Jim chuckled as he pushed a block behind the little black girl. Leaning the torso against the block, he bent low and kissed her on the forehead.

"Are you ready, little girl? You know what to do?"

"Yes, Jim," Renee said. "Let's do this now."

"Okay, baby," he said somewhat sadly. "Good luck."

Handing the remote to Monique, the strange man left the room. Jim looked sympathetically at Monique before leaving the room as well.

"You have five minutes and then, we'll start rolling the cameras again."

Monique tried to say 'thank you' but the words got stuck in her throat. Instead, she just nodded. Mother and daughter just looked at each other.

"I love you, baby," Monique said. "Do you know that?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Do you believe it?"

"Yes, Mommy. I love you, too."

Tears started flowing down the mother's cheeks.

"How can you," she asked. "How can you love someone who hurts you so much?"

"I have wanted this for a while. I didn't know that I wanted to die, but I've wanted to feel this kind of pain for a long time. Thank you for letting me have it."

There seemed to be nothing more to say so they just looked at each other, communicating their love with their eyes for several minutes. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Monique sighed, tears running down her cheeks. Before she could say anything, Renee spoke.

"Hey, Mommy," the 10-year-old said. "Do you like my necklace?"

"What," Monique asked.

"My necklace," the little girl said. "Do you like it? It's special. It was made just for me."

Monique suddenly realized that this was part of the show. Her daughter's eyes sparkled as she played her role.

"Really," the mother asked. "What is so special about it?"

"It goes 'boom'," the child said. "When you press the button in your hand, it explodes."

Monique raised the remote and looked at it. It was a nondescript block of blue plastic with a single red button on it.

"This button," she asked, showing the remote to her daughter.

"Yep," Renee replied excitedly. "I know. I will count down from five. When I hit zero, press the button."

Monique's breath caught in her throat. Was it really going to happen this way? Was her daughter going to cheerfully count down, instructing her mother to kill her?

"Five," the little girl said. "Four."

"Baby," Monique said. "I love you so much."

"Three," the child continued. "Two."

"Oh, baby," the mother said sadly.

"One," Renee said with a huge grin. "Zero."

Monique did not hesitate. Hesitating would only cause her to lose her nerve. She pressed the button.

"I love you, baby. I'll see you soon."

The charge went off as the man had said. The blast was focused toward the middle of the little girl's neck and totally obliterated the flesh and bone. The force of the explosion caused the preteen's head to fly up into the air. It rose ten feet before falling to the floor.

Monique picked up her daughter's head. Remarkably, there was little blood. Maybe the explosion cauterized the wounds.

"I love you, baby," she said, kissing her dead daughter's lips. "I'll see you soon."

She set the head on the floor and began sobbing.


Ten minutes later, Jim came into the room. There were no words to be said, but he held out his hand. As the black woman took it, he pulled her to her feet and led her to his office. Waiting on the desk was a tall glass of brandy.

"Drink," he said.

She did not ask questions. She just took the glass and gulped down the contents.

"More," she said, setting the glass on the desk.

He poured another glass.

"When is it my turn," Monique asked.

"We are just waiting on Lauraine and Leanne," he said. "Lauraine actually finished a while ago, but she is in the bathroom."

"Did you give her a drink, as well?"

"Yes. I thought it might help take the edge off."

"You seem to be correct."

They sat in silence, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"I'm going to go talk to Lauraine," Monique said, rising to her feet. "Maybe I can help."

So saying, she left the room. Jim poured himself a drink.


Lauraine carried Kelly into the room. The 10-year-old didn't weigh very much anymore and the mother could handle the weight with no problem.

"You really want me to beat you," Lauraine asked.

Kelly thought about it for a few moments. She had watched her mother carefully over the last day and came to the realization that her mother was horrified at the thought of beating her daughter. Kelly had thought about it and realized that the beating she'd requested was nowhere near as important to her as her mother's comfort.

"No," the little girl said. "I thought I did, but I'm not really sure I could deal with it."

The 10-year-old hoped her mother wouldn't see through the lie. Her mother would beat her if Kelly asked, but it would hurt the mother terribly.

Lauraine just looked at her daughter for a few moments. She was sure the little girl was lying; probably to let the mother off the hook. She'd been dreading this since the idea came up Wednesday evening. She really didn't want to hurt her daughter more than was absolutely necessary. She knew her daughter would like it, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Okay," the mother said after a few moments. "What should we do?"

"Have sex with me, Mommy," the little girl replied. "Have sex with me and make me cum. After I've cum, a few times, cut off my head."

The mother sighed in relief. Sex wasn't a problem. After the orgy the day before, she was confident in her ability to please her daughter. Pulling a mat from a cupboard, she placed it in the middle of the room. She joined her daughter in the middle of the mat and began kissing her.

The mother kissed her daughter deeply. Her tongue snaked past her own lips and into the 10-year-old's mouth. Kelly responded as Lauraine had hoped and sucked on the tongue penetrating her lips.

After about two minutes of dancing tongues, the mother withdrew her tongue and licked her little girl's neck. Moving down, she licked her way down to the child's chest. She licked the left nipple and nibbled it a tiny bit.

Kelly hissed in pleasure as her nipple became painfully erect.

"Oh, Mommy," the little girl said. "That feels so good."

Lauraine smiled and released the nipple and continued her way down to the child's crotch. She spent a minute appreciating the view of the little girl's hairless slit.

"You're so beautiful, baby."

Using her fingers to gently separate the lips, the mother dove in, sucking and licking the cunt from the perineum to the clitoris and back again. She even licked the child's anus. Remembering the pleasure from the orgy, she licked until the anus was slick and slippery, then slipped a finger past the sphincter and stroked the inside tissue.

"Oh, fuck, Mommy. That's so good."

Lauraine focused her oral actions on the little girl's clitoris as she wormed a second finger into the child's anus. Slowly, patiently, the mother worked on stretching the sphincter as she used her tongue on her daughter's clitoris and brought the girl to one orgasm after another.

Kelly, her mind almost completely focused on the pleasure he mother gave by toying with the preteen clit, knew her mother was stretching her asshole. The mother probably planned to shove her entire hand inside the little girl's ass.

By the time her daughter had thrashed her way through her sixth orgasm, the mother had four fingers up the child's ass and was working on adding her thumb. She took her mouth from the preteen cunt and spit gobs of saliva onto her hand and her daughter's ass. With one final shove, her hand disappeared into the little girl's ass.

"Oh," Kelly moaned. "So good. Go further, Mommy."

"You got it, baby," the mother said as she started working her hand deeper into the 10-year-old's bowels.

Soon, the mother was up to her elbow in the child's ass.looking at the little girl's abdomen, she could see the outline of her arm in the little girl's body.

"Oh, baby," the mother said. "You are like my own hand puppet."

The child laughed at the thought.

"That's funny," Kelly said. "But, I have a question. Can you keep your hand in my but and swing around so I can lick your pussy?"

That was an interesting question.

"I don't know," the mother said. "Let's find out."

Moving carefully, she raised a leg over the little girl's chest and lowered her pussy to the preteen's mouth. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was possible. She let out a sigh of pleasure as her daughter sunk her tongue and teeth into the mother's pussy meat.

Kelly was not biting hard. She was just using her teeth to bump up the tension. Lauraine loved it and plunged her tongue deeper into the limbless girl's cunt. At the same time, she started opening and closing her fist that was deep into her her daughter's bowels.

Kelly writhed through yet another orgasm; this one strong enough to get her to forget herself and bite down hard on her mommy's pussy. The bite, as strong as it was, drew blood. The little girl was oblivious to the damage she caused and moaned as another orgasm ripped through her. As she started coming down from the last orgasm, she passed out.

Lauraine had experienced her own mind-blowing orgasm, surprising herself with her reaction to the intense pain brought about by bite she received on her cunt meat. She rode the wave and noticed the little girl was not responding to her oral ministrations. Looking back, she saw her daughter had passed out.

The mother slowly extracted her arm from the child's ass. Watching her daughter as she was dozing, the mother realized she had to pee. Remembering what she'd heard from Carol and Tyra, she decided to try something. Straddiling her little girl's face, she released a small squirt of pee and watched as it hit the little girl's mouth.

The lips were closed and the pee bounced away. The little girl, however, rocketed back to consciousness. She noticed what was happening and opened her lips, locking her mouth to her mother's cunt. The taste of the pee was just as Tyra had said. Salty, but not really bad.

As the flow slowed to a trickle, the little girl drove her tongue into her mother's pussy, licking the urethra. She smiled as she felt her mother shudder as another mind-blowing orgasm wracked her body.

Completely sexually sated, the mother and daughter lay on the mat, chests heaving as they caught their breath. They looked at each other, love plainly visible on each other's face. They lay there for ten minutes before the mother sighed heavily and sat up.

"That was amazing," the 10-year-old said.

The mother nodded in agreement.

"But now," the little girl continued, "it's time to finish me. It's time for me to die. I want you to kill me, Mommy."

"Baby," Lauraine began.

"No, Mommy. It's time. I saw the shears lying against the wall near the door. Get them and then cut my head off. I want you to."

"But baby," the mother said, tears forming in her eyes.

"No, Mommy," Kelly repeated firmly. "This has been wonderful and I've enjoyed it tremendously. This week has been the best week of my life and nothing would even come close to making me this happy. I want to die now, with the memories fresh in my mind."

The mother sighed and rose to her feet.

"Are you sure," she asked the limbless girl lying on the floor.

"I'm sure, Mommy. We have had a lot of fun, but now it's time for me to die. Kill me, Mommy. Please cut off my head and kill me."

Lauraine retrieved the shears and knelt next to her 10-year-old daughter.

"Can you prop me against something so I'm sitting up," Kelly asked.

There was a chair in the room and Lauraine placed her daughter in it.

"Good," the little girl said. "This'll make it easier to cut my head off and I can still look at you."

"You want to look at me," her mother asked.

"Yes. I want my last sight to be of the mommy I love and who gave me the best gift ever."

Lauraine kissed her daughter again. This time, there was no sexual flavor to the kiss. It was just a motherly kiss that expressed more than words how much the redheaded woman loved her little girl.

Kelly smiled broadly, her eyes sparkling, as Lauraine opened the shears and placed her daughter's neck in the 'v' formed by the open blades.

"I love you, baby. Wait for me."

Without waiting another second, for she was afraid she'd lose her nerve, the mother slammed the handles together, closing the blades. The smile never left the 10-year-old girl's face as the head slowly toppled from her shoulders. Lauraine picked up the head and sat in a corner, sobbing quietly.

After a few minutes, Bernadette came into the room and helped Lauraine to her feet. The receptionist led the mother to a bathroom that had a shower so the woman could clean herself up.

"I had to do it," Lauraine said sadly. "Didn't I?"

"You did," Bernadette agreed. "I've talked with Carol about this many times over the last few weeks and from what I can tell, if you hadn't done it, Kelly would've found someone who would. This way, she got to go with the knowledge that her mother loved her enough to give her what she wanted."

Lauraine appreciated what the other woman was saying but that was cold comfort. As she stood under the shower head, cold water raining on her overheated body, she thought about her own performance that would start in a few hours. It was with relief that she anticipated her own death at the hands of Carol Naylor.


Leanne wasn't looking forward to this. Of the three mothers, she was the one most prepared to do what needed to be done. When Carol had announced her findings concerning her research into child bondage and the lasting effects on the performers, Leanne had been saddened, but not really surprised.

She'd seen, occasionally, the changes within Tyra that hinted at the growth of a serious masochist. That the girl had been hurting herself in secret wasn't a shocking revelation That she'd gone so far as to seriously consider her own death, however, was a shock. What 10-year-old thought of being tortured to death as a good thing?

Well, now, Leanne knew at least three: Kelly, Renee, and Tyra. The mother hoped that Carol would be able to wean Danii from this before it got to that point for her. Danii was a lovely child and the blonde mother couldn't help but hope her friend's little girl could escape this cycle of self-destruction.

The mother, walking into the room, saw that her requests had been met. Hanging from the ceiling was a harness. The harness would hold Tyra, turning her into a kind of punching bag. Leanne didn't really want to abuse her daughter like that, but Tyra had made her desires painfully clear. This was going to happen.

Leanne carried her daughter to the harness and strapped the 10-year-old in. The little girl was grinning from ear to ear. It was plain to see that the preteen was enjoying the hell out of this. The mother kissed her daughter and stepped back.

"I love you, baby," the mother said. "Do you know that?"

"I do," Tyra replied. "You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't. I'm sorry I had to bully you into this, but I can't say I'm disappointed. Thank you for doing this to me."

"So, what, exactly do you want me to do?"

"Do you remember those kickboxing videos you used when you were working out last year?"

"Yes," the mother said, her blood beginning to run cold. "I do."

"I want you to use me as a kickboxing sandbag. Punch me and kick me. No place is off limits. I want you to kick and punch me all over, including my cunt and face."

It was no less than Leanne had anticipated.

"After you get tired, I want you to pick up the baseball bat by the door and hit me with that."

Leanne looked back at the door. She hadn't even seen the bat. It was an aluminum bat about thirty-six inches long and two and a half inches thick at the end. It looked like it could do some serious damage if wielded as Tyra wanted.

The mother sighed heavily. This was going to be rough.

"I can do that," she said at last.

"Then, when I say, take the knife from the table and gut me."

"When you say," the mother asked.

"Yes. I'm not sure exactly how much I can take, but when I reach my limit, I'll let you know."


The door opened and Jim came in.

"Is everything okay," he asked.

He wanted to make sure the harness he had found was satisfactory.

"It's great," Tyra gushed enthusiastically. "Thank you for getting this harness."

"You're welcome," he said, glancing at the mother.

"And you," he asked Leanne.

"I think I'm okay. This'll work."

He nodded and left without another word.

"Okay, Mommy," Tyra said. "You can begin now."

The mother sighed but turned to her daughter, preparing to begin. Stepping up to the hanging girl, Leanne balled up a fist and drove it into her daughter's abdomen. The 10-year-old let out a breath and vomited a little.

"Oops," the little girl said with a grin. "I forgot about this and ate breakfast. Maybe, I shouldn't have done that."

Leanne looked at the little girl and chuckled. It was amazing. She wondered how long her daughter would be able to maintain her positive attitude. Stepping behind the little girl, she turned and kicked the little girl in the cunt, the force of the kick lifting Tyra about four inches.

"Fuck," the 10-year-old moaned.

"Too much," the mother asked.

"Nope," the girl replied impishly. "Just right. Do it again."

The blonde woman shook her head in wonderment and repeated the kick, adding a little force. This time, the kick lifted the little girl high enough that she slipped out of the top of the harness and fell to the floor.

"Fuck me," Tyra said disgustedly. "I didn't think that was possible."

Leanne understood the little girl's feelings. Tyra had been the one to describe the harness. She bent, picked up her daughter, and noticed a bruise on the little girl's forehead.

"That is going to give you one hell of a headache," the mother said.

"Well, at least it won't last too long."

Leanne laughed, surprising herself. She strapped Tyra into the harness again.

"I will be right back," she said to her daughter. "I want to see if I can find something to modify this harness so that won't happen again."

She left the room and returned a few moments later with two web belts.

"Well the men'll need to hold up their pants for a while."

Tyra laughed.

Leanne wove the belts through the harness, and buckled them locking Tyra into the harness without obstructing exposure to the little girl's sensitive bits.

"Try it again," the little girl said.

Leanne stepped back and kicked Tyra in the cunt again. Again the force of the kick lifted the little girl, but this time, the harness rose with her.

"Much better," the 10-year-old said, a tear running down her cheek.

The mother focused on the beating and tried to convince herself that the hanging target really was a sandbag. She rained punches and kicks on the target and tried to ignore the grunts and moans the 'sandbag' emitted. After about fifteen minutes, the blonde woman stepped back, breathing heavily.

Tyra was also breathing heavily. The difference was that her heavy breathing had be caused by multiple orgasms. There was a growing puddle under the suspended 10-year-old. She was also grinning from ear to ear. Seeing her mother was exhausted, the girl requested that they move on to the next step.

"Now, the bat," she said.

Leanne sighed. The little girl was still smiling and obviously wanted to continue. The mother retrieved the bat and stepped up to the little girl.

"Are you sure, baby? This is no joke."

"I'm sure, Mommy. Batter up!"

Leanne snorted in laughter, surprising herself.

"Okay, baby," she said taking a batting posture. "Where should I aim first?"

"Surprise me."

The mother stepped behind her daughter and swung. The bat struck the child in the hip and the 10-year-old swung like a pendulum.

"Come on, Mommy," Tyra said pleadingly. "Hit me for real."

The blonde woman sighed again and swung the bat, this time with all her strength. There was a crunch as the bat connected with the hip again. This time, the child howled in pain.

"Fuck me," the child groaned when she stopped screaming. "That was so good."

"Really," the mother asked.

"Fuck, yes."

Leanne swung again, hitting the other hip and wincing when she heard the resulting crunch.

"Oh, God," the little girl groaned, her pussy beginning to leak orgasmic fluids again.

The bat was swung again, this time slamming into the 10-year-old's abdomen. Before the child could scream, she was vomitting again.

"Oops," the little girl said. "Sorry, Mommy, but could you wipe my face? This feels gross."

Leanne left and returned a moment later with a bucket of water and a wash cloth. She soaked the cloth and wiped her daughter's face. Then, she kissed the little girl.

"I love you, baby," she said.

"I love you, too, Mommy."

Retrieving the bat, Leanne prodded her daughter's hip. It resulted in a groan of pain from the 10-year-old. Reaching out and touching the hip with her fingers, the mother could feel that the hip bones were shattered.

"Do it, Mommy," the girl said. "Squeeze them."

Leanne dropped the bat and took both hips in her hands. Using all of her strength, she squeezed the child's pulverized hips. The gasp of pain and the expulsion of cum as Tyra squirted showed that this was a good kind of pain.

"Now, my shoulders," the little girl said.

"That'll be difficult," the mother said. "If I'm off even a little, I could hit you in the head. That could kill you."

"I trust you, Mommy. I know you can do it."

The earnest look in the little girl's eyes killed any thought of 'accidentally' missing. Leanne had thought of putting her daughter out of her misery, but the little girl reminded her that killing Tyra this way would only end her own torment. Tyra, on the other hand, was enjoying this and would be happy to continue.

Picking up the bat again, she raised it high and brought it down slowly, marking the arc needed to bring the bat down on the shoulder and not the head. After several more practice swings, she brought the bat down full force. There was a loud crunching sound as the bat slammed onto the shoulder.

"Oh, fuck, that's good."

Leanne shook her head and repeated the practice swings on the other shoulder. She then swung the bat again with all her strength and destroyed the shoulder. Then, dropping the bat, she gripped her daughter's broken shoulders and squeezed, feeling the bones grind under her grasp.

Tyra gasped and heaved, her little body being wracked with yet another orgasm. The puddle of cum below the little girl had grown quite large. She moaned and smiled at her mother.

"I think that's enough," the little girl said. "Thank you, Mommy. Now, go get the knife."

Leanne was almost numb. She just nodded and retrieved the knife from the table.

"This could kill me before you cut my head off," Tyra said.

"It could," Leanne agreed.

"No matter what, when you've finished gutting me, cut my head off with that knife. Then, reach in and pull my heart out."

The mother couldn't believe the extent of her daughter's desire for pain.

"Okay, dear," Leanne said.

"Could you take me out of this harness and lay me on the floor? It'll be easier for you."

Leanne did as Tyra asked and set the mutilated little girl on the floor. Then, picking up the knife, she placed the tip on the skin about an inch below the child's solar plexus.

"Do it, Mommy," the little girl said. "Gut me."

Using a little pressure, Leanne pushed the knife one inch into the 10-year-old's abdomen. The gasp of pain drew her attention to her daughter's smiling face.

"Go on," Tyra moaned. "Do it."

The mother pulled the knife down the preteen body, opening it up from an inch below her solar plexus to one inch above her pubic mound. There was no screaming. Tyra just lay there, groaning as more cum flowed from her cunt.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

Leanne reached into the little girl's abdomen and pulled out the intestines. Once they were pulled out, the mother cut them free. She then started removing all organs not needed for life or, those that would not result in immediate death should they be removed.

After about ten minutes, Tyra's abdomen was largely empty. The only organs remaining were the child's womb, uterus, lungs, and heart. The mother looked down at her daughter.

"We're done, baby," she said quietly.

Tyra's eyes had been closed for the last three minutes. The mother was almost sure the girl had died.

"Not yet," the little girl said without opening her eyes.

After a moment, the girl opened her eyes and smiled at her mother.

"Now, you need to cut my head off. And when you're done with that, don't forget to pull out my heart."

"Okay, baby," the blonde woman said, relieved that she was almost done. "Give me one last kiss and then I'll do it."

Tyra smiled and kissed her mother.

"Thank you, Mommy. I love you. Now, kill me, please."

"I love you too, baby," Leanne said, tears beginning to flow. "Goodbye."

She picked up the knife and ran it across her daughter's throat. As the little girl gurgled and the blood began to flow from the cut, Leanne brought the knife up and continued cutting, sawing through the tissue and bone until, a minute later, the blonde 10-year-old's head came free.

Seeing the smile still on her dead daughter's face. The mother nodded.

"I know, baby," she said.

Reaching into the corpse's chest, the mother cut the heart free and set it on the pile of removed organs. Then, she lay back on the floor and stared at the ceiling.


It was nine forty-five. The three mothers sat in Jim's office, each with a tall glass of scotch in her hand. Jim sat behind the desk, nursing his own drink.

"So," Monique said, "what are you going to do with our bodies when we're done?"

She seemed remarkably calm, considering that she'd be ripped in half within the next hour.

"Well," Jim said, "that really depends on you. We'll give you any treatment you request."

"Cremate me and Renee," the black woman said. "I'd rather die knowing that we won't be subject to more indignities after I'm dead."

"We can do that," Jim said, writing Monique's request on a pad of paper.

"That'd be fine for Kelly and me as well," Lauraine said.

Jim nodded, making note of the redhead's request.

"What about you, Leanne," he asked.

"I think I agree with the others. Cremation sounds like the best method of disposal."

Jim nodded again, adding Leanne's name to the list.

"Okay," he said. "It's now ten minutes to ten. We'll begin with Monique. Due to the nature of Monique's desires, we'll need to do it out back. We have two large trucks already prepared."

The mothers nodded, Monique almost eagerly.

"You have ten minutes, Monique. Then, we'll need you in the back lot. Leanne and Lauraine, you don't have to watch if you don't want."

Lauraine agreed that she wouldn't like to watch. Leanne was about to say the same, but the look on Monique's face stopped her.

"Monique," Leanne said, "would you like me to watch."

The almost imperceptable sigh of relief only confirmed Leanne's guess as the black woman nodded.

"Then," the blonde woman said, "I'll watch."

Jim and Lauraine left the room, leaving Leanne and Monique to finish their drinks.

"Thank you, Leanne," Monique said. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I feel better knowing that I won't be alone when I die."

"I fully understand. That's why I asked Carol to be my executioner."

"I like her," Monique said, "but I really don't know her like I know you."

"Carol and I have been quasi-friends for years while our daughters competed againt each other for movie roles."

"And now there'll be no more competition. She'll be killing you in less than five hours."

"Exactly," Leanne said with a smile. "There's no one I trust more to give me a death I feel I deserve. She knows my motivation and will do her duty."


At ten o'clock, Monique and Leanne went into the back lot and saw the two trucks, large pick-up trucks, facing to opposite directions. There were chains attached to each. At the unattached end of the chains, there were cuffs. The cuffs would be fastened around the black woman's ankles and locked so they would not be removed until the woman was dead.

Carol stood to one side, talking with Jim and holding a small chainsaw. She was wearing a black leather hood that completely concealed her face and hair. There were squares of gauze attached to the woman's thighs, calves, and shoulders. It truly looked as though the woman was trying to hide any distinguishing marks.

Leanne and Monique walked up to the talking couple and waited.

"Hello, Monique," Carol said.

"Hello, Carol. Are we ready, Jim?"

"We can begin whenever you're ready, Monique," he replied.

"Then, let's do it."

The black woman walked to the mat lying on the ground. She lay flat and waited for Jim and Carol to do whatever they were going to do.

Carol walked over to the prone woman and set the chainsaw down. Kneeling down, she attached first one cuff and then the other. Using a padlock on each cuff, she locked them. She stood and looked down at the black woman, compassion in her eyes.

"Are you ready," the psychologist asked.

"Yes," Monique said. "Let's get this over with."

Carol waved at Jim and the two trucks roared to life. They slowly pulled forward until the slack had been taken out of the chains. As Monique's legs were spread, the black woman let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. When the black woman's legs were spread wide, the trucks stopped moving. Carol looked down at the woman again, questioningly.

Monique nodded.

"Do it," she said.

Carol started the chainsaw and saw Jim waiting for her to make the cut before signalling the trucks to begin pulling away. Looking down at Monique again, she saw the black woman nod once. With a sigh, she brought the saw down to the woman's crotch, Before she could think any more, she used the saw to cut into Monique's pelvis.

The whine of the saw chewing through the pelvic bone, served as the signal to begin. Jim waved at the trucks and they began to pull ahead.

Monique was howling in pain. The saw had done its job and the strain from the chains caused the pelvis to finish splitting. With a loud tearing sound, the pelvis broke into two pieces and the legs were spread further and further.

Carol stepped back, watching as the rip widened, splitting the woman up the middle. The black woman's howls were fading and as her torso was ripped up to her chest, her heart gave out. The trucks, however, continued on and kept going until the body was ripped into two pieces, her head going with the right arm and leg.

Blood was pooling on the mat and spreading to the pavement. Carol stepped back a few more steps to avoid getting blood on herself. The chainsaw had a shield so she'd been protected from the splatter as she cut through Monique's pelvis. She really wanted to remain clean until she killed Leanne. There'd be no avoiding the blood then.

She set the chainsaw down and walked back over to Jim and Leanne, ignoring the camera crew as they came closer to get a better shot of the destroyed black woman.

"I need a drink," she said, passing the other two and heading into the building. "I'll be in your office, Jim. Forgive me for raiding you alcohol cabinet."


It had taken only fifteen minutes to bring Monique's life to an end, so Lauraine blinked as she saw Carol enter the building and disappear into Jim's office. As she got up to follow, Jim and Leanne came back in as well.

"Is there something wrong?"

Jim just shook his head.

"No," he said. "Carol just needed a drink after taking care of Monique."

"I see," the redhead said.

They entered the office and saw Carol sitting on the floor, back against the wall, eyes closed, and a tall glass of scotch in her hand.

"Are you okay, Carol," Jim said.

"Yes, Jim," Carol said. "It was just a confusing experience."

"Confusing," Leanne asked.

"Yes. I really don't know what I was expecting, but I just went cold when I was using the chainsaw. I was causing indescribable pain and damage, but I really felt nothing. I had prepared myself for the feelings of disgust, self-loathing, and even excitement. Apathy never entered my mind as a possibility."

"Is that really a problem," Lauraine asked. "I'd think that it would be better that way."

"On the surface," Carol said, "it is better. But I have to wonder if there's nothing more to it. Experiencing apathy when causing pain like that almost makes me think I'm a sociopath."

"Not at all," Leanne said. "Think back to the meeting the four of us had last week. You were so disturbed that you had to leave the room. Perhaps you realize that this has to happen - that this will happen - and that the only way you can work through it is to distance yourself from your feelings."

"I thought I was the psychologist," Carol said, a hint of a smile appearing on her face.

"You are," Leanne said, "but I think you might be too close to the issue to be able to rationally think this through."

"You do have a point," Carol said. "Thanks, Leanne."

"Oh, don't thank me too much," Leanne said with an impish grin. "I just want you to be able to finish me when it is my turn."


"Don't you forget it."

"Carol," Lauraine said. "Do you think you'll be able to do me? If you can't, I'm sure Jim could find someone to do it."

"It's okay, Lauraine. I should be okay with it. Leanne may be right. I'm probably just trying to distance myself from the situation."

"Speaking of which," Jim said. "If the three of you are okay with it, we can move up the timetable. Monique took far less time than was anticipated."

Lauraine and Leanne looked at each other and nodded.

"I think," Lauraine said, "that it really depends on Carol. I'm ready now, but maybe Carol wants some downtime before going on."

Carol thought about this and realized that it'd probably be better to move on now. The sooner it was over, the better it would be.

"No," she said. "That's okay. If you want to do it now, Lauraine, I'm ready."

Lauraine thought about it. She was really ambivalent about it. Should she die now? Should she wait another ninety minutes? Thinking about her daughter, though, decided the issue.

"Let's do it now," she said. "I want to be with my daughter."

Leanne nodded. She felt the same way.

"Okay, ladies," Jim said. "Give me five minutes to set up the cameras and then we'll do it in the second studio."

The three women nodded.


"Leanne," Lauraine said. "I know watching Monique die was probably terrible, but would you be there with us when Carol kills me?"

Leanne was about to turn down the request, but then she realized that it wouldn't be any worse than seeing a woman ripped in half.

"Would you mind if I lick your pussy?"

"Actually," the redhead said, "that's what I was hoping. With Carol smothering me with her pussy, it would be awkward for her to try to finger me at the same time."

Carol was relieved. She'd been trying to figure out the logistics of the thing. She didn't see how she could pleasure Lauraine and maintain the seal blocking the redhead's air flow.

"So," Leanne said, "Carol will smother you and I'll lick you. If I'm good enough, you might end up coming and going at the same time."

"That sounds interesting," the redhead said.

"We're ready, ladies," Jim said, entering the office.

"Showtime," Lauraine said.

The three woman walked to the second studio.


The studio was well-lit. There was a mat in the center of the floor and there were cameras in the corners of the room.

Lauraine stripped off her clothes and lay on the mat. Carol was still naked, never having dressed after the death of Monique. Leanne didn't want to be the odd one out so she stripped off her clothing as well.

"Come on, Carol," the redhead said. "Let's do this. If I can still breathe, I'll pat your butt three times."

"Hold on, Red," Leanne said. "I think I want to give you an orgasm or two before Carol gets started."

"That sounds best to me," Carol agreed.

Lauraine shrugged.

"Okay," she said.

Leanne lay on the mat, and spreading the redhead's pussy lips, exposed the clitoris. Swiping her tongue across the pearl, she was happy to feel Lauraine buck with surprise.

"Does that feel good?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Lauraine moaned.

"I'l take that as a 'yes'," Leanne said with a smile.

Leanne went back to sucking, licking, and nibbling the clitoris as she slid two fingers into Lauraine's pussy. Stroking the front wall of the pussy, she searched for the elusive g-spot. As Lauraine started thrashing and bucking, Leanne figured that she'd found it,

"Fuck," the redhead continued moaning. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

It only took two minutes for Leanne to cause Lauraine to thrash her way through a mind-blowing orgasm. A minute later, as Lauraine was building toward another orgasm, Carol straddled the redhead's head and lowered her crotch to the woman's face.

"Three times," Carol said, drawing a nod from Lauraine.

It took three attempts to get the proper positioning, but they did get it and Lauraine blasted through her second orgasm as she felt Carol seal off her nose and mouth. This was it. There'd be no more breathing for the redhead.

'God,' she thought. 'I hope Leanne keeps going. I'd really like one more. Wait for me, Kelly. Mommy's coming. I'll be there soon.'

Carol sighed in pleasure. She hadn't really considered how good it'd feel, having someone thrashing between her thighs. She found herself building to a mind-blowing orgasm of her own.

"Leanne," she said, "spin around here so I can reach your pussy while you lick her."

Leanne did as asked and sighed in pleasure as Carol's fingers entered her, one in her pussy and one in her ass.

"Oh," the blonde moaned. "God, Carol, that's so good."

Just then, Leanne felt Lauraine's pussy spasm, squeezing her fingers like they were in a vice.

"Is she," Leanne asked.

"Yes," Carol said. "She just began thrashing beneath me. I think it's happening."

"Well, keep still. She wants this. You'd be doing her no favors by giving her another breath."

"I know," Carol said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "This has to happen and she does want it."

'Can't breathe,' Lauraine thought as her lungs screamed in pain. 'Fuck me, this hurts. How long will I last? I just hope they don't let up. It'll be even harder if I have to go through this again. It won't be much longer, baby. Mommy's on her way.'

The redhead continued thrashing for another minute before she passed out.

"Stay put," Leanne said, seeing that Lauraine had gone limp. "She's unconscious, not dead. If you get up, we'll have to do this again."

"Fuck," Carol said.

"Wait here," Leanne said, rising to her feet and leaving the room.

"Where would I go?"

The blonde woman returned a minute later, holding a wicked-looking knife.

"Oh, yeah," Carol said. "I'd forgotten about that."

Leanne handed the knife to Carol and returned to licking Lauraine's pussy.

"Count to one hundred," Leanne said as she positioned herself between the unconcscious woman's legs. "When you reach one hundred, she should be gone. Then, cut her throat. That'll make sure she's gone."

Carol wasn't really sure about this, but after using a chainsaw on Monique, she figured that she should be able to cut Lauraine's throat.

'...ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred,' Carol thought.

She'd felt no movement from Lauraine while she was counting. Sighing heavily, she picked up the knife and drew it across the redhead's neck, cutting all the way through to the spine. There was no response from the redhead. Lauraine was dead.

"She's gone," Carol said.

"I thought so," Leanne said. "There's been no response to my licking for a while now."

The two women got up. There wasn't much blood, but the two women decided that they needed a shower. Taking one last look at the redhead, they turned and left the studio.


Jim was waiting for them when they came out of the shower.

"Good job with Lauraine," he said.

Both women shrugged.

"So," Carol said, turning to Leanne. "One little indian left. What exactly do you want, Leanne?"

"Did you see how I beat Tyra?"


"I want you to beat me. Use the baseball bat I used on Tyra to break my arms and legs. Then, I want you to stab me with the knife you'll use to cut off my head, I should be stabbed five or six times. Then, cut off my head."

"Fuck," Carol said. "That's rather extreme, don't you think?"

Leanne smiled.

"Is it any more extreme than first destroying and then cutting off your own daughter's fingers and toes? Her arms and legs? Is it more extreme than gutting your 10-year-old daughter and removing her head?"

Carol could only shake her head sadly.

"No," she said after a moment.

"Can you do it," Leanne asked.

It took Carol two minutes to respond. This wasn't an easy question to answer.

"I can," the psychologist finally said. "God help me. I can do it."

"Are we ready, Jim," the blonde woman asked.

"Yes, Leanne. We're ready."

"Showtime," Leanne said as she got up and followed Jim to studio three.

Carol got up and followed Leanne and Jim.


Leanne had talked to Jim the night before, explaining what she wanted. He'd arranged for a frame to be assembled. Leanne would be attached to a pillar in the room, her arms and legs spread and shackled,. This would create space needed for Carol to swing the bat freely.

It was a matter of a couple minutes worth of effort to restrain Leanne. The blonde woman was grinning the entire time.

"Are you really enjoying this," Carol asked.

"I don't know that I'd say that I'm enjoying it, but I'm finally facing my fate. I'll be with Tyra soon."

"You know," Carol said. "I'm not a sadist."

"I know," Leanne said, hanging in her restraints. "That's why I really appreciate it. I know I've asked you to do something far outside your comfort zone. I hope you can forgive me."

"I will, but it might take a few days. You're right, though. I'm not comfortable with this."

"Thank you, Carol," the blonde woman said. "Let's do this. I don't want to wait anymore."

Carol sighed and raised the bat. Bringing it down on Leanne's restrained left arm. There was a loud 'crack' as the bone in her forearm was broken. Leanne shrieked in agony. Without waiting, Carol raised the bat again and brought it down on the right arm. That bone was broken as well. After breaking the right arm, Carol stepped back and watched Leanne.

"Oh, fuck," Leanne said as she stopped screaming. "That fucking hurts more than I would've expected. I have no idea how Tyra managed to endure it."

"She liked the pain." Carol said. "You don't. For you, this is true torture."

"Yeah, well, keep going. My legs, now."

Carol sighed and swung at Leanne's left thigh. There was a light crunching noise, but not the crack that she'd expected. It took three solid hits to break the blonde woman's thigh bone. Throughout the beating, Leanne continued shrieking.

When the left thigh bone was broken, she moved to the right side. Again, it took three solid hits before it was broken. Carol then targeted the lower legs. These bones weren't as sturdy and took only two hits each before they were broken.

"Kick me," Leanne moaned when Carol put down the bat.

"What," Carol asked incredulously.

"Kick me. Kick my legs and my cunt. I want more pain."

"Isn't stabbing you enough?"

"Please, Carol," the blonde woman begged. "Kick me."

Carol stepped back and, with all her strength, kicked her friend in the pussy, burying her foot up to the ankle. Leanne's shriek of agony tore at the psychologist's heart.

"Again," the torture victim said as she regained her composure. "Do it again."

Carol found herself becoming numb. It was like she was watching this horrific torture instead of participating in it. Granting her friend's request, she kicked the woman's cunt, again burying her foot to her ankle. This time, when she removed her foot from her friend's pussy, it was red with blood.

Without pausing, Carol then kicked Leanne's broken left leg. Pain exploded in the blonde woman's limb at this abuse and Leanne let out another horrific shriek of pain. Carol went on to the right leg, kicking it twice before backing up to catch her breath.

"The knife," Leanne whispered, her voice nearly broken by the continuous screaming.

"What," Carol asked, moving closer to better hear her friend.

"Use the knife," Leanne whispered. "I am ready."

Carol nodded and picked up the knife. It was a wicked-looking thing. It had a blade that was eight inches long. On the other side, it had a serrated edge that would rip at Leanne as Carol extracted the blade.

Looking at the blade and then her friend, Carol realized that plunging the knife up to the hilt would drive the blade completely through the woman, causing the blade to emerge from Leanne's back.

"This will completely pierce you," she said to her friend. "If I put the entire blade into you, it will poke out of your back."

"I know," Leanne said, her voice hoarse. "That is why I had Jim get that knife."

"Are you sure," Carol asked.

"Yes," the blonde woman said. "Do it. Do it, now."

Slipping her right hand behind Leanne's back to hold her still, Carol stepped up close and drove the knife into her friend's lower abdomen. She buried the blade to the hilt and let go of the handle. Stepping behind the restrained woman, she saw that one inch of the blade was sticking out of Leanne's back.

Gently taking the tip of the blade between thumb and forefinger, Carol wiggled the blade, eliciting a moan from her friend. She stepped back to the front and extracted the blade. The serrated blade tore at the flesh as she pulled the blade out. This caused a ragged tear in the woman's stomach.

Even if she was going to receive medical care for this, Leanne would have no chance of avoiding a scar. Carol moved the blade three inches to the right and drove the knife in again. Looking at her friend's back, she saw the point sticking out of her back.

"My tits," the restrained woman moaned. "Cut my tits."

Carol pulled the blade from Leanne's abdomen and placed the point at the top of the woman's breast, close to the chest. She looked into Leanne's eyes and seeing a slight nod, sliced through the left breast, cutting it in half, neatly bisecting the nipple.

"The other one," Leanne said weakly.

The bloodloss must have begun taking a toll.

"Do the other one."

Carol didn't hesitate. She repeated her actions and cut the right breast in half.

"Thank you," the blonde woman said. "Thank you, Carol. I'm ready. Do it now. Kill me, please."

Carol approached her friend, tears beginning to flow. She kissed her friend on the mouth and then kissed Leanne's forehead.

"Okay, Leanne," Carol said. "It's time. Here it comes."

The psychologist placed the blade to the blonde woman's throat. Without giving herself time to consider her actions, she cut deeply through flesh. Pulling out the blade, she flipped it and used the serrated edge to cut through the spine and after a minute, Leanne's head came free, a broad smile on her face.

Carol placed the head on the floor and left the room. She needed a shower.


After an hour, Jim couldn't stand it. Carol had been in the shower for the last forty-five minutes. Walking into the bathroom, he saw Carol sitting on the floor of the shower, sobbing heavily as the water rained down on her.

"Carol," he said. "Get up."

She looked at him and didn't seem to understand what he said.

"Come on, Carol," he said, turning off the shower and reaching to help her to her feet.

Carol didn't resist and let him lift her to a standing position. She'd been sitting in the shower long enough for the blood to be completely washed off. As she started to step from the shower, her legs gave out and the woman fell to the floor.

Jim sighed. Bending down, he scooped her up and carried her to his office. Setting her on the couch, he covered her with a light blanket.

"Rest, Carol," he said. "Try to get some sleep."

He turned out the light and shut the door behind him as he left. Before the door had finished closing, Carol was asleep.


"How is Carol," Bernadette asked as Jim entered the break room. She was surprised to see his clothes completely soaked.

"She isn't doing well," he said. "She's now sleeping in my office."

"Do you know why she chose to be a psychologist?"

"What," he asked.

"Carol could've gone into any field she wanted. She was in the top of her class in all subjects. Do you know why she chose to be a psychologist?"

"No. Why?"

"She's always had a soft nature. She couldn't stand to see people hurt. Although she excelled in all classes, any class where she was dealing with truamatic injuries caused her serious distress. She's cried on my shoulder more than a few times after disturbing classes."


"Yes," she said. "Carol decided that dealing with emotional issues was more to her style than working in an emergency room. So, she focussed on psychology to avoid situations where she had to deal with extreme injuries."

"And now, she's had to not only deal with serious injuries, but inflict them as well."

"Yeah," Bernadette said. "I'm going to go sit in your office and keep watch on her. She's not going to deal with this very well and I don't want her to be alone for a while."

"Then I'll leave her to you. If you or she need anything, let me know."

"Where will you be?"

"Arnie and I will be in the cutting room. We need to edit this film and put it together."

"When do you expect it to be ready for release?"

"Two to three weeks."

"I'll call Elaine and let her know."

"Thank you, Bernadette."


Carol woke in Jim's office, her eyes crusty with dried tears. Rubbing her eyes to clear them, she sat up and noticed she was naked.

"That's right," she said to herself. "Jim carried me here from the shower."

"Yes," a voice said in response. "He did."

Carol turned to see Bernadette, a worried look on her face, watching Carol closely.

"Bernadette," the naked woman said, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Twelve hours. We thought it best to let you rest until you woke."

"Thank you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Carol shook her head silently. She wasn't ready yet.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," Carol said, realizing that she was indeed hungry.

It wasn't too surprising considering that she'd last eaten around eighteen hours earlier.

"Let's go, then," Bernadette said, handing Carol's clothing to the naked woman.

Carol got dressed quickly without saying another word.


Bernadette was scared. Since waking an hour before, Carol had said only one word; the 'yes' in response to the question about her being hungry. There was a haunted look in the psychologist's eyes.

Bernadette excused herself, claiming a need to use the restroom. On the way, she made a detour to the parking lot. Seeing that Carol couldn't see her, the receptionist made a phone call.

"Salisbury residence," a voice said.

"Yes," Bernadette said. "Can I speak with Elaine Salibury, please?"

"Who may I say is calling?"

"My name is Bernadette. I work with Jim and Arnie and I am calling about Carol Naylor."

That last name elevated the priority of the call.

"Just one moment, I'll get Miss Salisbury."

Alice knocked on the door to Elaine's bedroom. It was almost one in the morning and she was loathe to wake Miss Salisbury, but this was about Miss Naylor.

"Yes, Alice," Elaine replied, rousing from a deep sleep.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Salisbury, but there's a telephone call about Miss Naylor."

Elaine was instantly awake. For there to be a call at this time of the night, it had to be serious. She sat up immediately, picking up the line beside her bed.

"This is Elaine Salisbury."

"Miss Salibury, I don't know if you know me, but my name is Bernadette Andrews. I'm a friend of Carol Naylor's."

"Yes, Bernadette. I do know you. You work with Jim and Arnie, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is this about Carol?"

"It is," Bernadette replied, suddenly aware that she'd called this woman in the middle of the night.

"I am sorry about the late call, but I believe Carol needs some friends right now. She's in a bad way."

"What happened, Bernadette?"

"I don't know if you knew, but she took part in the film we were producing for you and played a pivotal role. It seems to have disturbed her deeply. She slept for twelve hours but still seems to be in a state of shock."

"Where are you," Elaine asked. If Carol played a role in the movie and was in shock, then she had to have been one of the torturers, at least. That ran counter to all that Carol was.

"I'm at the all-night diner on the corner of Mace and Third. Do you know where that is?"

"I do, Bernadette. I'll be there shortly."

"Thank you, Miss Salisbury."

"You're very welcome, Bernadette. And call me Elaine. I appreciate you letting me know there's an issue."

"Thank you, Elaine."


Twenty minutes later, Elaine pulled into the parking lot of the diner. If any of her socialite friends had seen her, they would've been shocked. Her hair was askew and she was wearing torn jeans and a t-shirt. She'd been in a hurry and just grabbed whatever was close, not caring about appearances.

Bernadette had seen Miss Salibury before and was shocked at the appearance she presented. Elaine saw the two sitting at a table, Carol with her back to the door. Elaine raced over and sat beside Bernadette.

Elaine was horrified. She'd seen the look Carol had on her face. It was common to people who'd experienced traumatic mental shock. This would take some careful handling if they were to help the psychologist.

"Thank you for calling me, Bernadette. I see you were not understating the issue. Tell me about the role Carol played."

Seeing that Carol was in her own world, oblivious to the two of them, Bernadette complied with Elaine's request.

"The three mothers had killed their daughters. When it was time for their executions, they asked Carol to do it to them."

"Dear, God."

"Yes. Carol felt an obligation to help out and agreed."

"How was it done?"

"She used a chainsaw on the first of the women. She split the woman's pelvis prior to the woman being torn in half by two trucks. She suffocated and beheaded the second woman."

"My God," Elaine said, looking back to Carol. "This is bad."

"That wasn't the worst."

"Tell me."

"The third woman had some extreme requests. Carol had to use a baseball bat to break the woman's arms and legs. Then, she had to stab the woman a few times with a knife that completely pierced the woman. Then, she had to slice the woman's breasts in half. Each one was cut from top to bottom, bisecting the nipple. Only when that was done, was Carol able to finish the job, cutting off the woman's head."

"Fuck me," Elaine said.

She'd been getting more and more concerned on the way to the diner, but, hearing this, that concern reached epic proportions. Carol wouldn't have done any of this willingly and must've been traumatized as she did it.

"Thank you for calling me, Bernadette. I'll take her home with me and take care of her."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a trained psychologist and will help her come to terms with what has happened. You're free to come as well. In fact, I would request it. You were right in claiming that she needs friends right now. You may need to call Jim and Arnie and tell them you may miss some time at work. Don't worry about your pay, I will take care of everything."

"Thank you, Elaine. I didn't know what else to do."


Carol woke in a strange bed. She had no idea of where she was, but that seemed to matter very little. The crushing depression she felt was all-encompassing. She'd killed three women. Brutally and bloodily. There was no taking that back. It couldn't be undone.

"Good morning," a voice said as Alice entered the bedroom.

"Alice," Carol said. "So, I'm at Elaine's."

"Yes, Miss Naylor. You're at Miss Salisbury's residence."

"How did I get here?"

"Miss Salisbury and a Miss Andrews brought you here last night."

"Bernadette," Carol said. "Is she still here?"

"Right over there," Alice said pointing to a form on a couch. The form was indeed Bernadette and she was sleeping.

"She was unwilling to leave you alone," the housekeeper continued.

"She's a good friend."

"Awake, are you," Elaine asked as she entered the room.


"If you're awake, then come with me. You need a bath."

There was no arguing. When Elaine wanted to exert her influence, no one could fight back.

"Yes, Elaine."

Carol got out of bed and was surprised to find herself in a nightgown.

"It's one of mine," Elaine said, seeing the surprise. "I couldn't have you catching a cold. You know how depression affects your immune system."

"How much do you know, Elaine?"

"Bernadette told me everything. She's very concerned about you. You gave her quite a fright last night."

"What happened?"

"Well, you were in shock. Apparently, your activities the other day were bothering you."

They began to leave the room, but Elaine suddenly stopped.

"Alice, when Bernadette wakes, bring her directly to us. We'll be in the bath for the next hour. Then, we'll be on the veranda."

"Yes, mistress."


As always, Carol was amazed at the bath. It was the size of a small swimming pool.

"I've always said that you can't truly relax unless you can stretch out," Elaine said, something Carol had heard several times before.

"You'll get no arguments from me," the psychologist said.

"I was wondering if you could help me, Carol."

"Certainly. How?"

"I need your professional expertise."


"I have a dear friend. This friend has had to do something that ran counter to their personal values and it's affected them deeply. They seemed to feel it had to be done. It would've been done with or without my friend's help, but my friend was asked in a way that made it practically impossible to refuse."

Carol, lost in her own misery, failed to connect the dots and realize that Elaine was talking about her.

"If it was going to be done anyway, there was no reason to not do what needed to be done. If your friend felt an obligation to do this, they were helping the other person, weren't they?"

"They certainly were. And you're right, there was no stopping it. It was definitely going to happen."

"Then, your friend needs to understand that he or she, rather than doing something wrong, was actually doing something right in helping the requestor."

"You know all this," Carol said, suddenly remembering that Elaine was also a trained psychologist, even if she did not practice.

"I do," Elaine confirmed. "And seeing that you do as well, I say to you that you only did what needed to be done. If you hadn't done it, someone else would have. Your friends would still have died, but they'd have felt abandoned by you. They would've felt alone. I know it hurts, but you really had no choice in the matter."

As Elaine was talking, Carol began crying. Everything the older woman was saying was true. She, however, could still see the blood on her own hands. The blood that splashed from a slashed throat.

"Oh, Elaine," she cried. "I know that, but... but..."

Elaine encompassed Carol in a hug and gently stroked the younger woman's hair.

"But me no buts," she said. "You did nothing wrong. You didn't hurt anyone. You only helped them to achieve their desires."

The youger sobbed in Elaine's arms as the older woman spoke gently and held her close. When Bernadette entered the bath, Elaine motioned her to join them. The receptionist did so, adding her caresses and comforting words to Elaine's. They stayed there until Carol cried herself to sleep.

"She is sleeping a lot," Bernadette said as they carried the unconscious woman back to bed.

"It's natural, given this type of trauma. This'll likely continue for the next few days."

"What are we to do?"

"Just as we have been. We hold her, talk to her, and remind her that none of this was wrong. She only did what needed to be done."

"That'll help her get better?"

"It should. Carol's strong. She received a heavy blow to her character, but she will recover. We just need to be patient."

"Thank you, Elaine."

"No," Elaine said. "Thank you. If I hadn't known about this, I wouldn't have been able to help one of my dearest friends. And you were absolutely right. She needs us now, more than ever."


Carol awoke in the same bed as last time and recognized that she was still at Elaine's. Looking to her left, she saw Bernadette, again asleep on the couch. Getting out of bed, she approached the couch. Sitting on the floor, she reached out and stroked Benadette's face and hair.

"Bernie," she whispered. "Thank you."

"I hope you're including me in that declaration of appreciation," Elaine said from behind her.

Carol shot to her feet and spun, seeing Elaine sitting in a recliner on the other side of the bed.

"Elaine," she said.

"Who else?"

"I mean, of course I include you. Thank you very much."

"Do you feel any better?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been asleep for the last thirty-six hours."


"You received quite a shock on Friday. It hit you very hard and caused a downward spiral of self-incriminization and self-loathing. You were distraught and needed rest. You'd been pushing yourself too much and had worn yourself out."

"But to sleep for thirty-six hours?"

"I helped with that," Elaine confessed. "I drugged you to help you sleep."

"You what?"

"I drugged you. It wasn't difficult. You'd cried yourself to sleep in my bath. As you were unconscious, you did not fight the injection that kept you asleep."


"Like I said, you needed rest. I made sure you got it. Are you still upset over the movie?"

Carol thought about it. The pain was there, but the crushing depression was gone.

"It hurts, but not as bad, I think."

"Good. Then, let's get you some food. You haven't eaten in several days. You must be starving."

The rumbling stomach was all the answer Elaine needed. Carol blushed in embarrassment.

"Let's go feed that beast," Elaine said, grabbing Carol's arm and dragging her from the room. "Bernie'll join us when she wakes."

"Bernie," Carol asked. "Just how close have you two gotten?"

"We've spent most of the last few days watching over you. We talked quite a bit. She reminds me a lot of you. I think we could truly become close friends."


Breakfast was normal fare; eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, and sliced fruit. Though normal fare, there was a lot of it and Carol soon found herself stuffed.

"Ouch," she complained, holding her stomach. "I think I ate too much."

"You were hungry," Bernadette said.

The receptionist had joined the other two women half an hour after they started eating. Bernadette and Elaine had finished eating thirty minute before and sat, watching their friend shovel food down as fast as she could. Carol was on her fourth helping.

"How are you doing," Bernadette asked.

"Better. I needed to work through the events of last Friday. I've always hated violence and filling the requests of the three mothers hurt far more than I'd imagined. I'd convinced myself, I thought, that I was mentally prepared. I was wrong and I had to closely re-examine my role."

"And now, you've reached a reasonable conclusion?"

"I believe so. I know that I was doing the ladies a favor. They were going to die anyway and they wanted a friend to do it. If I hadn't done it, they still would've died and, maybe, died feeling abandoned and alone."

"That's absolutely correct," Elaine said.

"On the other hand," Carol said, "I won't do this again unless something extraordinary convinces me to do so. I don't see something like that happening anytime soon,"

"I can understand that. Jim says the film will be ready in two to three weeks. He was wondering if you'd be willing to watch the film."

"I will," Carol said. "I don't want to become desensitized, but I told Jim that I'd help him with identifying those who would be valid actors/actresses for further snuff films."

"He's going to need you," Elaine said.

"I'm not sure, but I feel that Danii might benefit from seeing this. I want her to see where her fascination with BDSM could lead."

Bernadette and Elaine weren't sure either. The idea of exposing a 10-year-old to this level of violence was troubling. On the other hand, the little girl had been in BDSM films for the last few years and maybe it would do her good to see where her actions could lead.

"When is she due to return," Bernadette asked.

"On Wednesday," Carol said.


Danii returned on Wednesday and while Carol was able to maintain a positive attitude, the little girl noticed something was different. She was confused, but she loved her mother and believed that if something was truly wrong, her mother would tell her.


Two weeks later, as they were on the way to the theater, Danii had to ask a question.

"Mommy," she said. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What do you mean, baby?"

"You've been gripping the steering wheel really tightly. It looks like you're angry."

"I'm not angry," the mother said. "I'm just not sure I want to see this movie."

"Bernadette sent you those tickets, right?"


"Will she be there?"

"I think so."

"This is the movie that I auditioned for a couple months ago, right?"

"It is."

"I wonder how it went."

Further discussion was cut off as they arrived at the theater. They parked and got out. Walking to the entrance, they were joined by Bernadette, Jim, and Arnie.

"Hello, Danii," Arnie said. "How are you tonight?"

"I'm good. Mommy tells me that this is the film I auditioned for a couple months ago. The one with Tyra, the black girl, and the little redhead,"

"That's right."

As they got to the front of the theater, Danii noticed the film's title.

"'Three Little Bitches Beheaded'," she said. "What does 'beheaded' mean?"

The adults looked at each other a moment.

"It means that they had their heads cut off."

"Oh," the little girl said, "like in that movie where Tyra died at the end."

The adults couldn't reply to that one. They took their seats and the theater lights were dimmed. The screen came to life and Jim appeared on the screen.

"Hello. I'm Jim. This film you are about to see is different from any child bondage film you may have seen before. Recent changes in legislation have allowed parents to sign their children up for extreme roles in plays, films, and other productions. Where there were limits before, those limitations have largely been removed."

"The result is this film. It's far more extreme and violent. None of the violence is simulated. It's absolutely real. If you have a problem with children experiencing real torment, I recommend leaving now. Otherwise, I hope you'll enjoy 'Three Little Bitches Beheaded'."

The screen went dark and then Renee's first day of electrical torture began. The segments would follow a simple pattern, It would be as follows:

 Renee (Day 1)
 Kelly (Day 1)
 Tyra, (Day 1)
 Renee (Day 2)
 Kelly (Day 2)
 Tyra (Day 2)
 Renee (Finale)
 Kelly (Finale)
 Tyra (Finale)

With each segment lasting approximately fifteen minutes, the movie would last about three hours. By the time Tyra's second segment was finished, Danii was crying.

"Are you okay, baby," Carol whispered. "It get's worse from here and if you want to leave, we can."

"No," the child said. "It's sad, though. I know that they enjoy the pain, but I can't imagine losing my arms or legs."

Carol was inwardly pleased. This reaction showed limitations within her daughter. The little girl was nowhere near as masochistic as the three starlets had been. At least, not yet.

When the conclusion of Renee's third segment ended with the little girl's head being blown off, Danii grasped her mother's hand tightly.

"He said this was real," she whispered to her mother. "Is it? Really?"

"Yes," Carol said.

"That means that she's dead."

"It does. She died when her head came off."

Danii said nothing more as she returned to watching the end of Kelly. At the end of Tyra's segment, the little girl had her hand over her mouth as Leanne gutted and beheaded her daughter. As the mother then pulled Tyrs'a heart from her chest, Danii started crying again.

"Do you want to leave," Carol asked again.

"No," Danii said weakly. "I want to see the end."

She continued watching the movie and was surprised to see the three mothers that had killed their daughters were also killed themselves.

"The mothers died, too," the little girl asked.

"Yes. They did,"

At the end of Leanne's segment, the screen went dark and the theater lights came back up. As the audience left, talking quietly amongst themselves, Danii sat with her mother, the producers, and Bernadette. The little girl was almost in shock. She'd never considered the possibility of death in a film.

"That could've been me," she whispered.

"What," Carol asked. She'd heard something but couldn't make it out.

"That could have been me," the child said in a louder voice.

"Yes," Carol said. "It could have. Jim and Arnie knew that you didn't enjoy the pain as much as those three did, though. That's why you failed the audition. They wanted girls that would be okay with dying at the end."

"They wanted to die?"

Danii then remembered the reactions of the three during the torture segments.

"They did," she said to her mother. "Didn't they?"


"I could never do that."

"I was hoping you would say that," Carol said to her daughter. "In fact, I am thinking of preventing your participation in any more films."


"We have found that most of the actors and actresses in those films end up like Tyra. They usually end up hurting themselves so they can feel the pain. Almost all of them end up making mistakes and killing themselves."

"You don't want me ending up like that."

"No," the mother said. "I don't. I want you to grow up and have a good life. I don't want you to need pain so badly that you end up killing yourself."

"I never liked the pain," Danii said. "The reason I liked working with Jim and Arnie is they faked it."

"They do. Other producers, though, haven't faked it. They really hurt the little girls and boys."

"You don't want me to be in any more films?"

"No. I don't."

"Okay," the little girl said, surprising everyone.

"You don't mind?"

"Not really. I only did it because you seemed proud of me."

Carol sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Danii. Thank you very much."

The End


EPIC story.


A great ending. I'm Glad that Carol's traumatic participation helped her to save Her own daughter.


Thanks for the kind comments. I'm glad you liked it.


This was truly amazing to read. Everything was actually plausible, and you really got into the heads of the characters. This is an actual story with character development, as opposed to most things posted which are just quick ways to get off. I am very impressed.


I don't know what more can be said. This story is something huge... one would not assume such depth from the title.


As the other commenters had said, this is awesome. I kinda want to see an epilogue from the perspective of some random person that also watched Jim's film.


Thank you for your comments.




Ok, so I've only found a few stories like this, but this one takes the cake. It fills a niche in story writing that generally gets ignored due to it's nature. I thoroughly enjoyed this story on an intellectual level. You are an amazing wrter, keep up the good work if you can and want to.


I am glad you liked it.

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