Friday, February 8, 2013

Suicide Club: Kim


Kim had joined the group only two months before, led to it through a strange set of circumstances. Like minded people, those that had lost something in life and were looking to either shake themselves back to life or exit life completely, had come together for The Suicide Club. Kim was a beautiful woman, 30 years old with long blond hair and a thin, shapely figure. Others wondered briefly how such a well endowed girl could despair and desire to end her own life, but then again, each had their own story and understood that life became unendurable for many, many reasons.

At the last (and her first) meeting, lots had been drawn and a young man she knew only as Anthony had died, jumping off a high bridge to some rather jagged rocks below. It was her first time seeing someone actually die. It disturbed her but didn't dissuade her from continuing with the club and attending the next session. Since that first meeting her life had changed dramatically. She no longer worried, cared, agonized, fought, and died little deaths of disappointment each day. Instead, there was a sense of peace. Things would end soon, she didn't know when or how, but her time on earth became simple, easy, and actually enjoyable in small ways for little bits of time.

This time they were on a fishing boat, out a half mile or so from the shore. 23 people gathered in a group on  the large flat rear deck (no one had joined since Anthony had been helped off the bridge last time). Straws were produced for the first round.

Kim drew her straw and saw the bottom tip had been dipped in red dye. She was moving on to the next round.

The demeanor of the group was grim, though not overly so. All the members had chosen to be there. All were accepting of the chances. All wanted to end their life sometime, in some way, but found a degree of comfort in this gathering of like minded persons.

Dice were produced for the next round. The 11 members that made it past the first round each rolled one die. The top 5 values were selected for the next round. Kim rolled a five, and advanced. A pang struck her in the stomach. She had not advanced this far last month; she now had a 20% chance of being selected for death in a few minutes. While accepting this, the reality was beginning to wash over her and she became nervous.

Kim had worn her formal gown for the event that day. It was the one she had worn when Sean had dumped her, very publicly and messily at his sister's wedding reception. That was the straw that had broken her, that had decimated her remaining faith and hope. The dress had meaning to her, and reminded her of why she was there. Others sometimes wore special mementos, a piece of clothing or jewelry. She supposed each was something the person wished to die with when they eventually were chosen.

Playing cards were produced; a full deck. The top two would move on to the last round. Parker shuffled them. Parker was one of the longest lasting members of the club; he had been in it for more than two years. How he had such good luck (or bad luck) was a matter of some talk, but no one questioned his motives for being in the club. His life had been a train wreck of bad luck and misery.

Each of the 5 members in that round drew a card. Parker was the first and drew a 10. Two others drew a three and a seven. Kim drew a nine. Everyone waited as the fifth member licked his lips and pulled his card. He turned it over slowly, so all could see.

It was a two. Kim and Parker held the high cards. A murmur of excitement ran through the group as the boat rocked gently and Kim stared at the cards laying on the deck. She now had a 50% change of dying, and she was up against Parker, who had done this at least 24 times before, never having been selected. She felt cold, and her body shook. She stood up and went to the railing of the boat and leaned over, feeling suddenly nauseous. She vomited over the side.

Half the members of the group surrounded her and touched her, squeezing her hand, giving her hugs and whispering words of encouragement. She was shaking so violently it was hard to walk back. Parker stood thoughtfully, several members nearby, all wondering if this was going to be it for Parker.

The last selection process was simple. One of the remaining members would write a number between one and ten on a card. He would show it to several other members. Then Kim and Parker would each guess a number. The one that came closest would be selected for suicide that day.

The number was chosen and written down. Three other members saw it and nodded their heads.

Parker went first, writing his number on his own card.

Kim swallowed. There were odds in choosing a number, but she had no idea how. She swallowed, and then wrote down the number one. She considered why she had chosen this number. Were the odds better? If she was here to commit suicide, to end her life, why was she trying to choose a number to "win"? Perhaps she didn't want to die as much as she had thought?

The ritual called for the two candidates to be bound. This was to prevent someone from backing out at the last moment. Once entering the lottery, decisions were final, or the club would have no meaning. Kim felt her arms forced behind her, a rope wrapped around her wrists several times, then wrapped around between them. It wasn't painful but very secure. It felt odd to have her arms pinioned behind her back.

Kim felt vulnerable and terrified. Her shaking was uncontrollable now. Tears ran down her cheeks. She stood on the rolling deck and suddenly felt wetness on her legs; not sea water, this was warm. She had lost bladder control.

Parker was standing with a solid, unmoving face. The cards were revealed. Kim had chose "1".  Parker had chosen "7". The final card was revealed... "2".

Kim was numb. Parker's wrists were untied as several members of the group led Kim to the rear of the deck where a length of chain and a concrete weight lay on the wooden deck. The world seemed completely unreal as she was pressed down into a seated position, her hands still tied behind her back. Someone removed her shoes. What a strange gesture.

Parker came over and quietly took the chain and secured it tightly to Kim's ankles. The other end of the chain went through a ring embedded in the top of the concrete weight. There would be no escape.

Hands  Lifted Kim up into a standing position. She looked around wildly, but realized there was no escape from this, she was in the middle of the ocean, wrists and ankles secured. She was sobbing, and the others looked very sad as three of the guys lifted the heavy concrete weight and set it on the edge of the boat.

Kim was lifted onto the edge as well, her white legs exposed as the skirts of the dress climbed up her thighs. She took several deep breaths, a useless but automatic reaction. The next moment the concrete block was pushed off the edge and splashed into the thick green of sea.

A second later the length of chain that stretched to Kim's ankles went taut and then with a sudden, massive jerk she was pulled off the edge of the boat. Faster than she imagined possible she was yanked into the water, feet first.

It was cold, very cold. The water surrounded her instantly and she was descending rapidly. Her eyes squeezed shut. The only things she felt was the coldness of the water and the continuous pull of the chain, dragging her deeper into the water.

The descent ended quickly. The sea floor was only about 25 feet down. Sunlight shown down on the struggling girl as she instinctively fought for life. She opened her eyes and saw the thick green surrounding her, cascades of light streaming down, flickering and dancing above and around her.

The weight rested on the sandy sea floor. She floated above it, her body naturally buoyant but kept down by the chain secured to her ankles. She struggled, trying to free her hands. Her chest burned, desperate for air.

To anyone who could have observed her Kim appeared beautiful, her long blond hair floating in the water around her head,  glistening in the penetrating sunlight. Her skin looked white, smooth and young. The skirt of her formal dress was billowing out, drifting in the gently swaying water, moving slowly in response to her struggles. Bare feet and legs were exposed, her feet pointing slightly downward as she floated.

It only took a short while before Kim attempted to breath and sucked in lungfuls of water. The pain was staggering, shocking her. Her body jerked and flailed however much it could, given she was tied securely. She was no longer completely aware of her situation, of where she was or what was happening. She ran simply on instinct, trying to get free, trying to gasp for air.

As the oxygen in her blood was slowly used and replaced by nothing, her body ached horribly, and Kim's mind went dull. Finally, her body stopped its struggles as her mind went blank, blankness enveloping her. Consciousness fled, leaving nothing but the once beautiful woman floating near the ocean floor, swaying gently like the seaweed nearby.

Above, the boat remained in place for a half hour. A few bubbles had risen where Kim had entered the water, but there were no other signs of her demise. The somber group opened some liquor and wine bottles. Some drank, some cried for the departed Kim. A few rejoiced in their own way, grateful it had been someone else's turn. Two couples of the group sought out private areas of the boat and had sex, celebrating their renewed chance at life by fucking each other.

Parker fired up the engines of the boat, and headed back to harbor.


Saturday, February 2, 2013

Love of Brute: A Slave's Fate

Stage One: Breeding and Selection


Life in Rakuen was perfect. The girls laughed and played together each day, spending time growing and becoming healthy and strong. They exercised their minds as well as bodies, learning language and writing, history and literature. Their exposure to the sciences was minimal, for an artistic and sensitive sense was deemed more important to their eventual destiny.

While the girls knew of men and saw them occasionally, they didn't interact with them frequently. To them, males were part of a larger world they had no need to understand. They appeared, took care of some sort of business, whatever it might be, and then left. Those girls that began exploring sexual interaction did so with each other. It seemed natural and right to grow into lesbian sexual exploration; men were unavailable and intimacy grew between the girls as they matured.

Stories and tales grew up and were told about what happened when the girl's bodies changed. Everyone knew that as they grew older, changes took place and that this was the time they would leave Rakuen. Some said that when you matured you moved on to heaven, a place where you lived constantly in pleasure and reward. Others questioned this, for surely Rakuen was already heaven. These doubters believed that when one matured they were transported and became teachers, or began the process of hard work and expanding themselves in new ways; in essence, moving on to the next stage of personal development with new challenges.

Whatever happened when someone left Rakuen, they never, ever came back. This left the journey mysterious. Death was unknown in the valley of the girls, and "crossing over" to the next stage became the simultaneously fearful and hopeful event that death was to the rest of the world.

Rana knew she was at the time of crossing over, and had resolved herself to the new adventure. It was sad to leave her friends, but she felt herself changing and the desire to learn more and meet the challenges of the next stage soon. She was a strong, beautiful girl, becoming a woman. Her hair was silky and dark, breasts full in spite of her lean and muscular body.

The headmistress that managed the girl's sleeping and eating facilities came to get her one morning. It was time. Rana left her things, as she knew she would not need them wherever she was to go. They walked down the main corridor of the main building and into a section where none of the girls had been allowed to visit before. After moving through several doors, some of them locked (a new experience to Rana), the headmistress remanded Rana to a new woman, older than Rana had ever seen before. There was a male with her.

They looked at Rana carefully. They handled her roughly, in ways she had never been handled before. "Take off your clothing," demanded the man. Rana did not feel comfortable with these two at all, but realized from his tone that this man was not someone to disobey. She removed her clothes and stood naked before him, trying to cover herself.

The man then felt her body, examining every aspect of her. He forced her mouth open, looking at her tongue and teeth. The woman forced her into a bending position, telling her to grab her ankles. The man explored her private areas, pushing his fingers deep inside her. Rana cried out and tried to stand up, but was forced back down. Tears came to her eyes as she submitted to the rough hands pressing into her sex, and then inspecting breasts, ribs, stomach, anus, legs... everything.

"She is too weak and skinny. She won't last long. I can get 60,000 for her, tops. I will pay you 30,000." The man spoke to the strange woman firmly.

"NO! She is priced at 50,000 and a bargain at that! Do not try to play with me Marcus, she is worth every bit." The woman snapped back.

"She is a weakling, and you know it. 40,000 and after this I want a volume discount. I buy more from Rakuen than any one else and if you don't start cutting me some slack, I will take some of my business to Virgin Farms."

The woman was silent for a moment. Rana had stopped crying and was standing, not believing what she heard. Was she being sold? Sold to whom? To do what? Whatever transition was happening was nothing like she or any of the other girls imagined!

The woman finally spoke. "5% on this one, and on each one from here on out, provided you do business with only us. Exclusive."

"Done." The man said, and took Rana by her arm.

Stage Two: Transport

The man and woman guided teenage girl to another area of the room which was filled with crates and packing materials. Rana did not understand what was happening. While she had been trained in obedience and respect for the teachers, she was so confused and upset she had to say something. She was still naked and they were guiding her away from where her clothes lay on the floor.

"Please... what is to happen to me? Where am I going? I am willing to take on my new life, but may I put on my cl--"

A sudden pain such as Rana had never felt before ripped through her face. The man had slapped her, hard. She tasted the copper flavor of blood oozing from a corner of her cheek inside her mouth and the side of her face was aflame. She gasped in surprise and shock.

"Shutup. You are only to speak when spoken to, and that won't be often. Learn it now and you might live a little longer." The man spoke roughly. He reached for a large rag and forcing Rana's mouth open began stuffing it inside. Rana made a muffled scream and struggled, but the man and woman held her in place, forcing more and more of the rag into her mouth until it slipped down her throat and made her choke. Her cheeks bulged out and her jaw was forced wide by the gag. When all the cloth was completely inside, the woman took a tape and wrapped it around Rana's lower face, keeping the gag firmly in place.

It was now all Rana could do to keep breathing normally. She struggled, trying to get away from these two people that were so different than anyone she had ever experienced. Instead of getting away, she was forced to the floor where ropes quickly wrapped around her arms, folding her forearms up with her elbows bent, so that she could not move her hands away from her shoulders. A feeling of helplessness flooded her and she struggled.

Rana sobbed, crying more in that time than in her entire time being raised in Rakuen, the slave farm where she reached maturity. She was bent over double and forced to the floor. There, the man shoved two flexible tubes into her. One slid into her urethra, the other was much larger and was forced into her anus. Both hurt, causing the poor young girl to sob with the indignity and pain.  Both tubes ran a short distance to a plastic bag. The one from her urethra was already filling with her urine.

Rana was then forced into a small box, bent over double and smashed in with no room to move, her knees bent tightly up at her head, which was forced down because the box was not large enough to accommodate even a sitting position.. A heavy wooden dowel was placed in the once side which remained open. While minimal, this was quite effective in keeping her inside the box while exposing her naked, compressed body to anyone who walked by.



The box was miserable. It was also inescapable. Rana struggled for a moment before realizing that she could not get free. Collapsed, compressed, restricted in the tiny space, her muscles began to cramp. The man and woman left her there in pain, wondering what a horrible thing had happened to her. How was she to escape? Was this the afterlife? Was she going to be condemned to suffer indignity and pain like this for long?

A short time later two men came with a dolly which they slipped under the transport box. Rana was lifted up and wheeled over to a large door which was rolled up. A truck had backed up to the loading dock and had its back door standing open. Inside Rana could see several other boxes like hers, with girls in all but one. That one held a boy of about Rana's age. All were gagged and tied, forced into the tiny crates and unable to move. They stared at each other with fear in their eyes.

Sitting in her carton, unable to move, Rana heard the sobs of one of the other girls. She squeezed her own eyes shut as tears trickled down her beautiful cheeks. They sat and waited, unable to do anything else. The door to the truck was rolled down and locked shut with a loud clanging noise. Darkness and silence ruled until the truck started up and began driving.

Hours passed; it was impossible to tell but it seemed that the truck drove a day or more. The cramping in her back, arms and legs from being in such a small space was unbearable, pain spreading across her body. Rana's body felt desperate to extend her limbs and move, but had no choice but to bear it the agony. There wasn't even enough room for her toes, which smashed against the side of the heavy wood box. Her body continued to function, urine and feces passing into the bags which lay on the floor of the crate underneath her. She was unable to stop the flow of her body waste, as the tubes had been jammed up well past any sphincters that might shut off their flow as they left her body.

The truck stopped twice, both times picking up several more boxes containing girls similar to herself, compressed and tied inside a tiny space, gagged securely to prevent anything but muffled cries from escaping.

Finally, the truck stopped and workmen took dollies and unloaded the boxes. Rana thought there must be more than 20. The boxes were stacked several high in one corner of a warehouse which was then shut. Lights were turned off, and it was clear the warehouse workers were leaving for the day. Night descended and the cargo of boxed female slaves sobbed together in the darkness, unable to sleep due to unrelenting, cramping pain from their compressed, folded bodies.

Stage Three: Sale

Light slowly flooded the warehouse as dawn broke. Huge windows lining the walls high near the ceiling let the sun in as it crept higher in the sky. Most of the girls were silent, though Rana heard a few moaning or crying out in pain. She herself let out a low moan at times, for her entire body hurt from the night cramped into a tiny space, unable to move.

The side door to the warehouse went up and a group of men entered the warehouse. Walking along the row of stacked boxes containing the slaves they stopped and discussed each. Some were tagged, others were bypassed. When the group reached Rana's box, she heard them discussing a price, arguing and negotiating. She knew from the earlier conversation that she might be sold for 60,000... but these men argued and bantered so fast she could not understand.

She had been sold to the owner of a whorehouse that bought bulk because they wore out their slaves so quickly. Her price was far less than the 60,000 others had hoped for. The rough, brutish man that stared at her momentarily, terrifying her before moving on to bid on more slaves, was the owner. Her box was quickly removed and placed on another truck. Several more boxes were loaded on the truck and driven overnight to a large building in a downtown area.

Boxes were unloaded, and the dowels which held the prisoners inside were removed quickly. Female bodies spilled out onto a concrete floor, bodies unable to stretch due to cramping, shivering in cold and hunger. The excrement and urine bags were removed and the girls were untied and retied quickly with new ropes at their wrists. Hoses sprayed water on the mass of female flesh, cleaning bits of blood and filth off the new shipment of slaves.

Rana was taken to a storage facility in the back of the building. A long, narrow room was occupied by several other slaves, all young women like her. Two rough men shoved her into a sitting position, one of them grabbing her knees and spreading her legs apart. Something snapped in Rana's mind and she began shaking and crying once again from the feeling of absolute despair and vulnerability. It made no difference. As her legs were held apart, the other man shoved something up into her vagina. It hurt terribly. It was a spiked dildo, designed so that as long as she didn't attempt to remove it, no harm would result. As soon as you tried to pull it out, the spikes would dig into the sensitive walls of her vagina and embed in the flesh, tearing it if she tried to pull. She was effectively held in place by the evil contraption.

She was left shaking in the narrow room. In the dim light she saw a few pieces of dried, moldy bread in front of her. Rats were eating it, but Rana suddenly felt the hunger of several days and she leaned forward to nibble on the meager food. She then collapsed and slept.

Stage Four: Use

"I told you, no damage to the slaves. Property of Mr. Mack. No damage." The wheedling voice of the slave keeper warned the men as Rana cowered in the corner, waiting and wondering what would happen.

"Here," the largest of the mean looking men said gruffly as he shoved a wad of money at the snide slave keeper. "This should cover it. If it doesn't, we will cover it tomorrow."

The slave keeper's eyes grew big and the money disappeared quickly.

"Tomorrow morning. 10 AM, as agreed. Enjoy, good masters," the whining voice faded as the door closed with the slave keeper outside. The two men turned toward Rana, who was cowering in the corner, wrists tied, unable to think what might happen next. She had existed in the storage room for several days, eating the  remains of moldy bread, living in her own filth which was hosed off once a day, until the men finally came and got her.

The smaller man with the ugly face grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the table in the middle of the room. She was yanked over the table, laying on it face up. The men lit cigarettes and looked at her, smoke visible clearly rising through the harsh light of the single bulb ceiling lamp.

"She is a pretty little thing, if a little scrawny," The big one said.

"I like her," the little one sighed. He slowly and casually moved his cigarette hand down and rolled the lit tip against Rana's left nipple. The pinpoint of sudden, unexpected searing heat made Rana scream. The big man laughed as Rana panted and recovered from the shock of the pain. She had instinctively brought her arms down over her breasts to protect them.

The ugly-faced man grabbed Rana's thin arms and shoved them above her head. "Keep your arms up there, slut, out of the way, or I will be sticking this cigarette in your eye, got that!?"

Rana did as she was told, lifting her arms and exposing her body to the men.

There was a knock at the door, and when it was opened, three more men entered the room. I tall skinny man with a craggy, blemished face looked down at the young girl's smooth body, and commented, "So this is the one you got, huh? She is young. I like her. Skinny, but healthy. So who gets to go first?"

"Freddy. He is the one with the biggest dick and will loosen her nice for the rest of us," the oldest one of the group said with a growl. This met with general laughter. Rana lay motionless on the table, afraid to move. All the men were smoking, and the air in the room growing thick. The man whose name was Freddy moved forward and dropped his pants, exposing a huge cock. Rana whimpered and drew up her legs, trying to protect herself.

"None of that now!" Growled the short one, and two of the men grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs wide apart.

Freddy put his cock against Rana's pussy and pushed. Rana gasped. The cock wasn't going in, it was far too big for her, but the man kept pushing harder and harder. Tears trickled down the sides of the poor girl's face, the pain increasing as the man grunted and moaned. His cock was hard, very hard, and his brutal thrusts were forcing Rana's pussy wider and wider open until suddenly, the cock was in about an inch.

"Ahhhh... that's better." Freddy took his cigarette and put it out on Rana's stomach, burning a hole in her smooth white flesh. Rana screamed again and wriggled. Freddy used this motion to get his cock even deeper inside the poor girl, pushing until she was three or four inches deep before he withdrew slightly.

"This bitch is so tight... it feels so good..." Freddy was enjoying the experience, and pushed in again. He got his cock in all the way and Rana felt as if she had been impaled by a huge stake. The thrusting continued, and Rana groaned in pain.

"Ha, she likes it. Look at the slut. She is moaning, fuck, hurry up Freddy, I want inside her!" One of the men was already undoing his pants in anticipation. The tall man burned Rana on the arm with his cigarette, making her jump and yelp with pain.

Finally, with a loud grunting, Freddy jammed his cock deep and unloaded inside of Rana. He withdrew, panting. "Good fuck. Yeah. I like this one. Have at her, Ken. Do her good. Somebody burn her a little too, when he is doing it, she jumps and contracts around your cock. Feels great!"


So it continued for several hours. After the first hour, Rana's skin was covered with small red or black dots where she had been burned from cigarettes. Her cunt was loose, soaking wet and dripping from buckets of semen that had been dumped inside of her. The men who weren't using her played cards and drank beer, and when she had been used by them all, she lay exhausted on the table. They ignored her then, and it felt like heaven to be left alone, except for the sensitive burns covering her smooth flesh.

After a several beers and hands of poker, the big one returned to her. Her body was violated again, and more of her white flesh covered with the angry red of cigarette burns.

She no longer cried, but simply endured.

Stage Five: Torture and End

Rana remained in the whorehouse for three months, servicing a many men and women with a variety of needs. She lost all sense of identity and simply ate when she was fed, slept when she was left alone, and endured when her body was abused. At last there came a time when the owner of the slave quarters decided she was no longer fit for normal duty, being used by men and women as a sexual plaything. She was kept as healthy as possible but the constant use as a sex slave was wearing on her.

So it was that Rana was transitioned into the role of Painslut.

At this facility, being relegated to Painslut status meant death was not long in coming, and it wasn't long before Rana was put out of her misery and past from this life to the next stage, whatever that might be.

She was rented by a sadist the first night. Dragged into the torture chamber, Rana saw that this session would be different than others; the room was filled with tools she didn't understand. The delicate and simple cloth she was given to wear was ripped open and her wrists shackled. Yanking her high up until the chain on her wrists fit in a hook on a large pole, the tall man that had rented her body stepped back to observe his victim.

He didn't like what he saw, though of course he never did. With disgust he took down a heavy bullwhip from a peg on the wall and wielded it expertly, snapping it and slapping it against the concrete floor, getting the feel of it's heft and balance. He then proceeded to whip Rana. The leather sliced through the light cloth of her shift instantly. In moments it hung in rags around her.

The whip sliced into Rana's flesh, as well. As a common whore, she had not been injured too seriously; she was kept relatively unharmed for the use and pleasure of the customers. Now there were no such restrictions and she screamed as the whip lit a raging inferno of pain across her bare flesh. She jerked where she hung after each blow, partly from the pain and partly because of the impact of the whip. She slowly rotated around, the whip pulling her body in different directions, reaching into her private places, wrapping around her limbs, kissing every part of her flesh.

After a few minutes of lashing, she sensed that while her body raged in pain, she was no longer being whipped. She hung half conscious, her head hanging with no strength to raise it.

The sadist rested and considered the young woman and her pain. It made him excited to see her in agony, and he exposed and fondled himself before selecting the next procedure.

Rana's breasts hung beautifully before him and he decided to work on them next. He wrapped a piece of rope around her chest several times, above her breasts. The rope criss-crossed between and then was wrapped around her soft flesh. Her breasts were pressed and pulled and tightened until they stuck straight out and resembled purple balloons. A final wrapping around her chest and the sadist tied the rope off behind her.

Blood flow wasn't completely cut off to her breasts, but Rana felt the pain begin to rise as they bulged and starved for oxygen. She swung slightly, dangling from her chained wrists.

The sadist obtained a long heavy spike from a table. It was about a foot and half long, perhaps half a meter, and went from a dull point at one end, thickening to a heavy wide head at the other. He showed it to her, forcing her to look at it before her face. He saw her eyes recognize the spike and widen with fear. She knew it would be inserted... but where? He slid the sharp point around her naked flesh, poking and making slight, tentative insertions in a few places. Rana jerked and sobbed each time she felt the spike pressing her flesh or entering an orifice.

Finally the spike was centered above her right breast and with one hand holding the soft flesh and the other pressing down on the spike, it was forced through her flesh and deep into the bulging, tight tissue. Rana cried out as the dull point pushed and smashed the inside of her tit, but the sadist kept pushing. It reached the bottom of the distended bulb of flesh, stretching the skin out before finally breaking through.

A second spike was inserted into her left breast in the same manner. Rana felt the initial pain as her breast was impaled. When it had gone all the way through, the pain subsided into a dull ache. She cried, tears trickling down her cheeks and mucus slowly draining from her nose. The sadist watched her suffering, and then moved to the next step.

Heavy electrical clamps were placed on each of the spikes. Long cables extended from these clamps and ended in a machine that the sadist turned on and let warm up as Rana observed and slowly understood what was to happen. Even with her awareness, she did not expect when the electrical shock hit her.

Her entire body tensed, convulsing, muscles contracting painfully as the electricity surged through one breast, across her upper body and then exited her other breast. She was silent at first, the shock and muscular contractions taking her breath away. She simply gurgled.



The searing pain from the shock continued and her body arched, all the muscles tightening. After a moment she was able to gasp a small breath and let out a scream. When that breath was gone, her body shook for a while until suddenly the electricity was turned off.

With the electrical current no longer surging through her body, her muscles relaxed suddenly. Rana drew a deep breath and screamed loudly, a guttural scream that took everything she had to give. The muscles across her body had relaxed so suddenly that she lost all bowel control; feces were suddenly expelled from her ass and mingled with urine on the concrete floor.

As she began to recover from the agony that had coursed through her body, the electricity hit her again. She screamed this time, long and loud. Her body arched once again, the bare flesh tensed so that every muscle stood out in sharp relief. The current continued for 10 seconds, and then 20.

Blood flowed from the Rana's mouth as she bit her tongue during her convulsions.

The electrical current finally stopped after 60 seconds, just as Rana was losing consciousness. She hung limply, no strength left in her body. Her head sagged and she gasped for air.

The sadist let her rest. Her tied chest heaved as she breathed, trying to get back some control of her body and brain. The sadist fondled her breasts, touching the points where the spikes entered her flesh, and where they had exited below. He kicked her legs apart, opened his pants and took a massive, hard penis out, rubbing it against the soft folds of her pussy. He inserted himself, and after a few thrusts, ejaculated inside her.

The electrical torment began again, over and over. She lost consciousness several times. When this happened the sadist waited patiently until she roused, splashing water on her body to help her regain consciousness. Once completely aware, Rana was shocked again, her body jerking and contorting as the electrical current pulled and tore her muscles.

Late that night, Rana lost consciousness. The sadist waited, but she didn't recover. He felt for a pulse, and felt none. One last electrical shock caused her body to jerk from the impulse, but she was dead.

In the morning, Rana's body was incinerated in the basement of the building. Her name was struck from the books, with the accounting closing out the profit and loss from her purchase, expenses and income.