Two months before my next trip to my Wife’s  she calls. We update on all the little things that have happened and then she asks do you want a spanking when you get here?  My response was a definite always. How do you want it? I replied naked, bound and totally exposed. She laughed, nothing new there you always want it that way, I presume you want to be in the diaper position with your legs spread wide?  Of course, that’s my favorite.

My Wife then asks me if I have had any new fantasies?  I said yes. Well are you going to tell me, she asks? It isn’t much, only your Mother catching me in a compromising position. How compromising? Well I’m always naked at least from the waist down, sometimes changing clothes but a few times I’m tied up naked. Your Mother makes me explain why. I tell her I leave the door open when I’m changing clothes because I enjoy the thrill of getting caught. What about being tied up? I confess that I like being helpless.

Your Mother thinks a little and then asks what do you hope happens if you get caught and by whom? Who do I hope catches me my Wife but the risk of someone else catching is always present. What do I hope happens, first I hope my method of escape is removed and my bondage tightened. Then I hope to get spanked, pinched and played with. Finally I want to beg for my release, maybe even agree to some other activity. Sadly this is where my fantasy ends, I never find out if your Mother does anything or not.

My Wife then asks are you naked right now? I reply of course. Then She asks any spanking implements handy? The paddle and crop.  You need to spank your balls, use the paddle, knees spread and give your balls 20 swats hold the phone so I can hear them. I follow Her instructions and then listen to Her ask did you like that? I answered yes. She says do it again only harder. I do it hitting harder slowing as the pain is building. Starting to hurt She says, well good 10 more harder yet. I hesitate and She says make it 15 and I promise you’ll enjoy more than one spanking when you get here or stop now and you get none. I manage to do the spanking.

My Wife asks did you like that and are they sore? I reply yes to both. You need to go to bed now but you need to figure out how you can tie yourself up so I only have to secure your last hand or tighten a few things. By, I love you and the call ended.

I finished making some Velcro cuffs that along with a few ropes and the knee strap that pulls my knees to my chest and sides. I now had a simple way to secure myself that my Wife could easily secure me so I would be completely at Her mercy.

Two weeks have gone by and my Wife calls again. After the small talk She asks how I’ve done with the tasks She assigned. I explain what I have done and how they work. Then I ask how She wants me positioned and in what room. After a short discussion She says sideways with your head on your side of the bed and your bottom on mine. That way both your mouth and bottom are available for my pleasure. I then told my Wife that She would need to get some rope to finish off what I need to tie myself up, You could get some ratcheting tie-down straps because that would make it easier to spread my legs wider. My Wife asked how that would work? Right now I’m planning to use a rope to go from my left wrist and ankle to the head of the bed and another rope to go from my right wrist and ankle to the foot of the bed. If I were to replace these ropes with the tie-down straps I could engage the left one just a little to lock and keep it from getting longer and leave the right one free for You to tighten. Now if you pull the straps tight and the engage the ratchet, then as you ratchet my legs will spread wider making me even more helpless. She said she would think about that and She would get some spanking implements.

Now you need to be spanked. Let’s see, I think your favorite position is called for, the Diaper position. How long will it take you to get ready? I can get ready in about two minutes. Then do it She ordered.

It took about two and a half minutes, my Wife says you’re late, pick up the crop. Start on that anus and make it hard. Hold the phone so I can listen to the hits and check with Me every 10th swat. At the first break She says harder and then after 50 swats She says to stop. Now using the thin  paddle start on your balls the same way. This time She ordered me to hit harder 3 times and then to stop after 100 swats.

Now how does it feel, She asks? Are your balls hot?

I reply that they feel warm.

Only warm, OK they must be too loose. Take a shoe lace and tie your balls into a nice tight package. Are they sticking out? I reply yes.

Now spank those balls with the paddle, hard. Keep the phone at your ear, spank harder I want to here the swats while you listen to me. Harder, harder, that sounds better. Now 5 more and make them harder yet. Good job, are they sore? I reply yes. Then she says pick up the crop and give them ten hard enough for me to here them and count. She says not good enough, I only heard 5 of them try again but this time make it 20. I spanked as hard as I could but lost count due to the pain. I stopped when I was sure I gave my self at least 20. My Wife responded with I think you need practice counting, I heard 27 smacks. Are they tender now. I replied with yes very tender.

Since you need practice counting I want you to give yourself 5 swats a minute until I call back and tell you to stop. Keep count and you better not cheat, enjoy, and She hung up.

I kept spanking with the paddle and 37 minutes latter She called back. She asked how many? I replied 185. Ok 15 more, fast and hard. I did it and She laughed as I struggled to count them.

My Wife told me to relax and release my balls. I gasped as the increased circulation caused a new sensation. She then asked me if I enjoyed my spanking? I replied yes but it hurt more than I was used to. She laughed and asked do you need more spanking or less? I thought and answered more. More spankings, more often and steadily harder.

Ok I can work on that, now stay as you are as long as you can. I want you to build up your ability to remain in the diaper position for at least 12 hours. That would give Me enough time to give you that birthday spanking you dream about. Sleep well, good night and She hung up. I managed to remain in this position almost an hour until my legs started cramping, I untied myself and slept with my legs spread and uncovered.

My Wife called 6 days latter with a get in position. I managed to get in the diaper position in about 2 minutes, practice made me faster. She had me start spanking and had me keep it up until I asked for a break. She asked are you hurting too much already? I replied no, I need a bathroom break. She laughed, you need to pee? No, not really. Oh She said, you need to earn a break, riding crop, I want to here 200 swats on that anus of yours and then maybe I’ll let you take a break.

I spanked away and when I got to 200 She says now with the paddle 200 on each cheek, right then left. I was in real pain and mooning as I completed the spanking. She says take your break but get back in position and hold it as long as you can and give yourself 20 swats on each cheek, on your balls and anus every 15 minutes for as long as you can. You should be up to at least 3 hours by now. If you fall asleep just figure out how many swats you owe and give yourself all of them before you release yourself. Tell me how you did and how they feel, Goodnight.

I just made it to the stool in time and did it hurt. My ass was tender and sitting was difficult and then my anus I had trouble, I had to go but the pain was intense. Ten minutes latter I finally finished and knew I needed to get back in position now or it would get harder. I was struggling to get my second set of swats done  when I fell asleep. Exhaustion over ruled pain and four hours latter the cramps in my legs woke me up. It took an hour to get all the swats done and get released. I went to sleep with a smile in my mind that I made it 5 and a half hours but I was too tired to do anything but pass out.

I called my Wife the next night to report and admit that I enjoyed it. She then asked I’m going in the right direction and you want more? I answered, yes but I’m not sure if I can keep increasing at this pace. My Wife laughed, don’t worry, over the phone I can’t go past your limits. Just think, in four weeks we’ll be together. Now keep working on extending the length of time you can be tied up. I want you to be able to last the night in position. I know that is one of your favorite fantasies, and I do want to please you. Keep practicing and buy a new pair of panties for your travels and they better be sexy, night.

Over the next four weeks I managed to last eight hours in position which meant that I could make it through the night, but I would be hurting from the bondage. One can always last longer when release is not left up to you.

I purchased a bright red lace thong for my trip. It barely covered my bound balls, I always bind them for travel, not tight but just enough so they stick out, of course my cock was going to stick out one side or the other. I had to be careful that they don’t show being bright red, but that was the fun part.

The day, actually night since I take the red-eye so with transfers I arrive at 9 in the morning, of the trip arrives. An hour before my taxi I call my Wife. She likes to check on all the last minute items. I had everything packed and I had just dried off from my shower and enema, one must be clean when traveling. My pants, shirt, shoes, socks and red panties and shoe lace for my balls were ready to be put on, so I called my Wife.

After a quick discussion that all was packed, She told me to get in the diaper position. I wasn’t expecting this but complied. She laughed as She instructed me to bind my balls because She wanted them separated. Now put the tag on. This tag was a numbered plastic lock tag, while I could easily snap it off. It wouldn’t go back on so my balls were now bound until my Wife decided they should be undone. If I remove the tag without permission I wouldn’t get the pleasure I wanted for a long time.

Then She talked me through 30 minutes of spanking before I was released to get dressed. Ten minutes before the taxi She had me brush my teeth. What She had me do next almost made me question who I was talking to. My Wife told me to drop my pants and panties. Now apply toothpaste to the head of your cock and don’t forget the opening, fill it like plugging a nail hole in a wall. When your done with that put twice as much toothpaste as you use on your toothbrush on the tip of your finger and then work it into your anus. Pull your pants up, wash your hands and don’t keep the taxi waiting, bye.

Every toothpaste causes a different sensation. I was using a mint one and it was starting to burn. Trying to act normal when your ass and cock are burning is a challenge, thankfully the burn was gone before I went through the check point, the raging hard on was not.

The flight was uneventful and on time. But when I arrived I was surprised when my Mother-in-law met me at the airport. It seems my Wife had a dentist appointment. We got my bag and drove back to the house. My Wife and her Mother live together in a large enough house. We got to the house my Mother-in-law asked if I needed to get anything before she left, it seems she had a doctors appointment at 1PM but was going to do some shopping first. I carried my bag to the bedroom and found my Wife had the items I needed on the bed so I told my Mother-in-law I was good as I checked the fridge.

My Wife had left a note which I opened as I watched my Mother-in-law leave. Hope you’re up for a dare, the note started. By now Mom has left and you’re home alone here’s the dare. Tie yourself up on the bed as we discussed. Now if you leave the bedroom door half open I’ll give you a spanking when I get home. If you leave the door wide open I’ll spank you again after your nap. Now you know Mom and how she can change her mind, she could come home because she forgot something, but even with the door open she knows you’re sleeping so unless she walks in the bedroom she won’t see you. But if you open the large envelope next to my computer you’ll find 3 stacks of papers, they contain some of the stories you wrote or found on the internet, they also contain a list of instructions for Mom that you need to sign. Here’s the dare one stack is to be placed on the floor in the bedroom, it only tells her that you enjoy this activity and that she is welcome to check you out. The second you can place on her bedroom door, this one encourages her to spank you. The third goes on the table by the garage door and it tells her how to get you to agree to all sorts of things.

What do you get for these risks. She may or may not see the one on the floor but if I find it there you can look forward to a second day of spankings. You put the one on her door and not only will you get a second day but a third and forth. Remember she may not go to her bedroom while she knows your sleeping should she come home. Now if your daring enough to put the one on the table which she will almost positively see if she comes home, you will get to spent at least 5 hours completely exposed in the sun with all your favorite spanking targets being turned black and blue. Love Your Wife.

I went and got the stacks of papers and skimmed through them and though, then I signed them and put them in place. I had time to think while I got ready. When I had 30 minutes to go before my Wife’s early time I made up my mind, I was going for all of it. Twenty minutes later I was locked in place and there was no way out.

Time past slowly and I fell asleep. I awoke when I felt someone’s hand on my balls. It felt strange, I don’t think it’s my Wife. Then I felt a second person and fear set in. I felt my bondage tighten and I couldn’t believe how wide the two were spreading my legs. Then my balls were hit hard and I lost track of what was being spanked and with what but when my mind regained it’s control I was sore. My ass, anus, balls and even my cock felt like they were swelled up to twice their normal size. I could feel something attached to my nipples, clips of some sort and they hurt.

The gag was removed from my mouth and someone sat on it making me orally stimulate their pussy. When that one climaxed the other took her place. Once that one came a different and much dirtier pair of panties were shoved in my mouth as a gag. And then I was left alone. I was left there wondering what was next and who was there?

Each year a eight or ten are found large and strong enough to serve as possible mounts.  They were sent to learn about tack and saddles at an intense summer program under the direction of experienced riders and in the Fall, are assigned to a trainer.

Ethan’s mother was deeply interesting in racing and his house was filled with racing souvenirs and paraphernalia.  No one was surprised when Ethan tried out for the Riding program.  He was known as a hard worker but a mount needed adequate size to carry a rider.  Many were surprised by the growth spurt at the end of his Freshman year and his qualifications were obvious at the end of his Sophomore year.  His mother had chosen her sperm donor wisely.  That summer, he learned to bear a Pony’s saddle, bridle, and control rods.    He was worked hard by the experienced equestriennes.  He quickly gained strength and stamina to match his great heart.

Ethan wore the blue and gold Suffragette colors when Beth, a new freshman, first saw him.  He stood proudly in his tack and saddle.  Sheridan, a senior girl, ordered him down and he dropped smartly to one knee.  She showed Beth how to grasp his bridle and mount.  Beth swallowed her trepidation.  She had ridden before though and had no lack of moxie.   She grasped his bridle in her right hand and lifted her right foot to his muscular thigh.  She swung her left leg over his neck and neatly mounted the large creature.  That first day, he only walked with Beth in the saddle and Sheridan leading him but Beth’s potential as a jockey quickly became apparent.

At first, Ethan ran under Sheridan who taught him to respect the control rods and answer promptly to her crop.  He learned to run with a rider.  He learned to sprint.  His strength and stamina increased further.

Beth learned too.  She learned to help a mount don and doff his gear.  She learned to ride at the walk, jog, stride, and finally sprint.  She learned to use the tools of her trade, the control rods and crop.  She learned to bring her mount to an all out sprint and how to keep his speed under control.  She learned exit the starting gate cleanly and to negotiate the press of bodies at the start as jockeys and mounts tangled for inside position.  She learned to read her mount to know just what she might ask of him.  Some mounts required strong encouragement while others required restraint lest they exhaust themselves too soon.  Too many novice jockeys failed to read the warning signs and blew their mount too early.  If their mount didn’t collapse under them, they staggered painfully across the finish line lagging behind the rest of the field.  Beth had the small stature, physical courage, and will to win of a champion.  She also seemed to have a special rapport with her mounts.

Ethan ran under the other exercise girls and jockeys, but Beth was his favorite.  Though only a freshman, she was ranked second among the jockeys by the end of the year.  In her sophomore year, she enjoyed breaking in the green mounts who had just graduated the summer program but Ethan carried her to a number of victories for the Cady Stanton Suffragettes in dual meets against the neighboring high schools, the Steinham Valkyries, the Freidan Freedom Riders, and the Greer Riot Grrls.  She and Ethan would go to Sectionals.

II

The long drive to the Sectionals  had been difficult for Ethan.  This was his first year.  He had been uncomfortable riding alone in the close confinement of the pony trailer.  Beth had ridden up front in the car with her coach and her best friend Amy.  Beth noted his nervousness and uncharacteristic ill-temper when she led him down the ramp and to his stall.    Riders and mounts were arriving in scores for the Sectional race the following day and the tumult and noise elicited a palpable unease.  Her light conversation did little to relieve Ethan’s anxiety.  He settled poorly in the unfamiliar stall.  Finally,. Beth apologized to Amy and decided to spend the night with her mount rather than in the motel with the others.  Amy wasn’t pleased in the least and promised to come by first thing in the morning.

Beth showed Ethan where he might attend to nature’s call and gave him a few moments privacy.  She found something for him to eat and urged him to lie down in the straw.  She had her jeans and bulky hooded sweatshirt.  Ethan had only his trunks.  She covered his large body with a coarse blanket and spread her blankets right next to him.  She assured him that she’d be right back and left to see to her own needs, securing the stable door behind her.

She returned and slipped into her blankets.  The stables were poorly heated and the damp chill drove Beth ever closer to her large, warm mount.

Ethan derived real comfort from her close presence, the quiet sounds of her soft breathing and her familiar fragrance.  Once upon a time, such an arrangement would never have been allowed.  Most would have thought the petite young woman at risk for virtue and even life from the hormonally crazed adolescent male.   Those times were safely in the past.  Beth was his jockey and Ethan was her mount.

Ethan’s skin felt deliciously warm to Beth’s cold hands.  Sleeping, he seemed totally unaware of her frigid touch.  She snuggled even closer and her nearness seemed to quiet him.  She ran her hands gently over the strong muscles of his bare back and flanks.  He did not stir when she lightly kneaded his powerfully built buttocks. Finally, she rested her frigid hands  between his brawny thighs.

Inadvertently, Beth brushed his bulging ball sac.  Ethan was intact, while most of the older certified mounts had been gelded.  Intact males were notoriously distractible, lazy, and prone to violence.  However, elite riders usually preferred intact males because their greater competitive spirit and special bond that might be forged.  Ethan was too young for such considerations.

Beth felt Ethan relax at her touch.  His body’s warmth cut the chill and soon Beth fell asleep also.

Beth awoke first in the dim light before dawn.  Ethan slept soundly.  Nestled between his muscular thigh, her hands were snug and warm.  A mischievous notion seized her, she slid her hand carefully up the inside of his thigh.  The coarse hairs tickled her palm.  She slipped her hand inside the cuff of Ethan’s trunks and stroked his muscular buttock.  She imagined how he’d look with her brand.  Some day she would own a string of boys.  She grinned wickedly and reached for his sex.  As she guessed, her Ethan boasted his morning erection.  She encircled his girth between her thumb and index finger.  He sighed.  Beth froze motionless, then carefully removed her hand.  He did not wake.

III

The field was unusually large at the Sectional meet.  The ponies and their jockeys lined up shoulder to shoulder in the starting gate, eager for the final race to begin.  Beth and Ethan, in Suffragette blue and gold,  had done well in the preliminary races and stood third of ten from the inside rail.  The start was delayed until the track could be cleared.  Beth and the other jockeys worked frantically to calm their anxious mounts.   The doors opened and Ethan surged forward, leaving the gate cleanly.  Beth brought down her stick sharply to send him forward.  A whip cracked and the mount to her right hand panicked and jumped inside.  Ethan swerved and shot inside to avoid him only to collide with the mount to his left.  Mounts and jockeys went down in a jumble of arms and legs.  Somehow, Ethan avoided the pile-up and kept his feet. It wasn’t pretty but he won!

Ethan was still in high spirits from his hard-won victory.  The race had been grueling.  Breath came only raggedly and with effort.  His muscular chest still heaved from exertion.  His powerfully built legs still wobbled and trembled unsteady.  Utter glee and slowly resolving oxygen debt contributed to his giddiness.

Beth was exhilarated too.  She simply loved to win.  She wore her best leather boots, the brightly colored blue and gold silk top and white jodhpurs of the of the Cady Stanton Suffragettes.  Spurs were not allowed in the high school division.  Ethan wore only trunks, shoes, socks, his saddle, and tack.  In high school meets, the mounts always wore shorts.  After high school, males always ran naked except for their gear.

Beth knelt at Ethan’s feet to help remove his shoes.  Her Ethan was quite able to take off his own shoes but this was something that a jockey always did for her mount.  She had always dreamed of being a jockey.  She sat in Ms. Collins class and cringed at her teacher’s vivid retelling of the horrors of the Patriarchal Age.  She gave thanks that she lived in a more enlightened time.  Some day she would own her own string of ponyboys.  She half listened to Ms. Collins’ frightening tales, half-glanced at the frightening images she presented, and filled her notebook with various designs for her personal brand or mark.

Ethan bent at the waist, rested his large hands on his muscular thighs, and caught his breath  He felt his strong thigh muscles quiver with fatigue.  He looked down at Beth, kneeling at his feet as she wrestled with his stubborn laces, and tried to catch a whiff of the faint fragrance of her perfume.  She was small, but she wielded the damned whip with great energy and unwanted strength.  The laceration on his body showed her handiwork.  She loved to win every bit as much as he.  Perspiration had darkened the bright colors of her racing silks.  She usually smelled of soap and understated perfume  Now a more primal scent admixed with the others and yielded an even more alluring fragrance.  He thought just perhaps to bend a bit further and nuzzle her sweat-damped hair.

Just then Beth looked up to see him staring down at her. Ethan dwarfed the smaller woman.  “Ethan, lift your foot, she said, brooking no nonsense.

Ethan stopped and did as he was told.  Beth slipped off one shoe and stocking and then the other shoe and sock in turn.  She inspected his feet for any injuries. An army marched on its belly but a pony ran on his feet.

Her task completed, Beth stood.  Her usually deft fingers fumbled with his belts and straps as she helped him from his saddle and tack.  His perspiration had made everything slippery.

“Mount,” she said and Ethan dropped to his left knee in the ‘mount’ position.  To mount, Beth would grab hold of his bridle with her right hand, step up onto his broad thigh with her right foot and swing her left leg over this muscular neck.  Today, Beth reached forward to remove the bridle.

Kneeling, Ethan’s eyes were at the level of her chest.  He studied her blouse and cursed the pearl white buttons that held it closed.  He saw the outline of her pert breasts beneath her silks.  Perspiration had made the material translucent. He might just lean a bit forward and press his cheek against her inviting chest.

“Great race, Beth!” exclaimed Amy as she pushed into the stall.  She startled Ethan and he straightened quickly with Beth never learning of his intent.  Amy was tall.  Not just taller than her petite friend but tall and long legged.  “you did the Suffragettes proud. For a moment, I was certain that that cock-sucking Steinham Valkyrie bitch would beat us,” Amy confessed.  Steinham and Cady-Stanton High Schools were long-time bitter rivals.

“Great mounts make great riders.  I never doubted Ethan would win,” Beth said.

“Great race, Ethan – Beth -  really,” gushed Madison, one step behind.  “give the poor bugger some credit too.  He did all the work.”

“Not quite all the work,” insisted Beth. “My whip arm will be stiff and sore in the morning.  I may even have a blister from gripping it too tightly.” She studied her hand.

“Poor baby.  I’ll give you some ibuprofen.  Just look at poor Ethan.”  Amy pointed to the red streaks that Beth’s crop had inflicted on his flanks and thighs as she brought him in a winner.  Several of the deeper gashes still shed dribbles of blood

“He’s really magnificent, Beth,” Madison said, looking admiringly at Ethan.

Madison helped Beth with Ethan’s tack and Ethan thoroughly basked in all this feminine attention.

“Ethan, you are quite a fellow!”  Beth admitted to Ethan. “I’ve been trying to get Amy to ride you,” she explained to her friends, “forever!  Every time, she chickens out.  You’re really a great mount.  Here, let me show you off for my friends.”  She looked directly at Ethan.

“No,” Ethan retorted.  “I know what you want.  Never!”

“Ethan,” she smiled.  She felt a bit ridiculous arguing with her mount, even if he was her Ethan.  “Take off those silly shorts Let them see you.  You’ve got a great body and no reason in the world to be ashamed.  Like Madison said, you’re really magnificent.”

Ethan looked at Beth.  He saw no sign she would back down.    Then he appealed wordlessly to Amy and Madison.  Their faces betrayed their amusement.

“You know, Ethan, you haven’t got anything we haven’t seen before,” Madison explained matter of fact, “and we’ve probably seen better.”  Ponies ran naked except for their gear in the senior division. One could see riders and their mounts in the park all the time.  One could see races on the flat screen in super high definition.

Ethan thought hard for a long moment.  “Tell you what.  I’ll take off my clothes for you, Beth, but only if you take off your clothes for me.”  Ethan smiled broadly at his clever stroke.  He looked to Amy and Madison to sanction his victory.

Amy and Madison were shocked by his temerity.  Now Beth’s face revealed her shock.  Temporarily stymied, she  thought very carefully before she spoke.

Ethan felt pretty good about himself.  He had strong feelings for Beth.  He carried her on his shoulders endlessly in training as well as in his races.  Her weight was nothing to him but the fragrance of her perfume filled his head and dreams – both sleeping and awake.  Her sweet breath warmed his ear as she urged him forward.  When she hunched forward her soft breasts touched his head.  He wondered if he might turn his head and take her nipple in his mouth.  For the races, she wore her white jodhpurs.  In practice, she wore only brief shorts.  Her smooth trim thighs rested skin to skin on his massive shoulders.  The secret place between her thighs pressed firmly up against his heavy neck.  He studied her face and watched her lips press together while she formulated her answer to his challenge.   He allowed himself to wonder how those lips might feel pressed against his.

“Well Ethan, okay,” Beth said, surprising even Ethan and leaving her friends utterly speechless.  “But gentlemen first.”  “Gentlemen” was an old expression one no longer heard too often.  Ethan’s studdly behavior was becoming clearly annoying.

Ethan crowed his victory.  A triumphant grin stretched his face.  He turned his back to the women and stripped off his briefs.

He had a great ass.  Beth imagined her latest brand design on his muscular left buttock.  She wondered if she would have the nerve to brand him herself.  Branding required some skill but a woman forged a special bond with the mounts she branded with her own hand.   “The jockstrap too,” Beth reminded him, “remember, you agreed, naked.”

He turned away , hesitated, and then complied awkwardly.  You and me both, he thought, rejoicing. He waited a long moment before turning to face Beth, Amy, and Madison.

Beth stepped in beside him and slipped an arm around his waist. She was truly fond of the creature.   Inadvertently, she touch a tender laceration left by her whip.  Ethan pulled a little bit away.

“Sorry,” she said chagrinned.  “Say, isn’t my Ethan magnificent, just as I said!”

Once upon a time, a male might intimidate a score of healthy adult women simply by threatening to expose his male paraphernalia.  That time was safely in the past.  However, his “otherness” was striking – the mere size and bulk of him, his heavily muscled male angularity compared to the graceful rounded feminine curves.    His exuberant hirsutism betrayed his kinship with the bestial.  In a well run stable, he would be depilated for reasons of hygiene and aesthetics.  His ample male parts, once symbols of male power and authority, were now incontrovertible proof of his innate inferiority.

Ethan’s muscular body was every bit as impressive as the older ponyboys who raced naked at the track.  Scientific nutrition and long hours of strenuous training had made the most of the outstanding physique he had brought to the program.

Ethan put his large hands on his hips.  “Okay Beth, take off your clothes now.  Now I get to see you naked.”  He looked to Amy and Madison for support.  They had heard Beth promise, after all.

Amy and Madison looked at their friend, Beth, their sincere unease evident in their faces.

Beth showed no hint of distress. Beth took Ethan’s face in her petite hands and pulled him toward her.  Ethan closed his eyes and allowed himself to be guided.  She deftly avoided his questing lips and kissed him wetly on his broad forehead.  She was honestly fond of the big guy.  Boldly, she took his sex gently in her hand.  With both Amy and Madison there, she had no doubt she could control him.  Ethan was a silly name for a ponyboy.  Someday, he would have a real ponyboy name.  “Can Amy touch you too?” she whispered.

Her small hand on his sex made rational thought difficult for Ethan and coherent speech impossible.  Her warm hand just  felt so good.  He wanted to say, no, but he feared that Beth would take her hand away.

“I really don’t want to,” Amy objected.  Ethan breathed a sigh of relief.

I do!” volunteered Madison cheerfully.  Madison gave him little time to refuse.

Ethan started to protest but the kneading movements of Beth’s hand on his sex made coherent speech difficult.

Madison cupped his ball sac gently.  She certainly didn’t want to hurt him.   The coarse hairs tickled her palm.

“Amy, you should cop a feel.  He feels really weird.”  Ethan’s ball sac bulged ripely.  Most ponies in a stable were gelded.  Intact males tended to lazy, distractible and prone to violence.  However, elite riders generally favored intact males because of their greater spirit.

“I hope you guys wash your hands before you touch me!” Amy exclaimed.  She hoped her friends weren’t secret stag hags.  The mere notion of a large hairy male forcing himself into her most private places, nauseated her.

Without volition, Ethan’s  body responded to all the feminine attention.  His penis grew to fill Beth’s fist.  He was still uncircumcised.  He’d lose his foreskin promptly in a properly managed stable.  Lacking enthusiasm for a messy climax, Beth dropped him and put her hands on her hips.

Ethan overcame his burning humiliation with some effort.  “Okay Beth, I did what you wanted.  Now it’s time for you to get naked.  I want to see your little titties and cute little ass.”

“Okay Ethan, you’ll see me naked, I guess,”  Beth said with apparent resignation.

Amy and Madison gasped aloud.   Would their friend really humiliate herself?

“Close your eyes.”  Ethan enthusiastically complied. “And turn around.”

“You can see me naked, in your dreams!”  Beth slapped his butt sharply for his unbelievably egotistical presumption.  She then led Amy and Madison from the stall quickly, closing the door behind them.

“Can I open my eyes now?”  Ethan asked plaintively, but no one answered.

IV

Beth had told Ethan to meet her at the stables on Sunday, one last time.  High school was over now for Ethan and his promising future lay glistening before him but they had had so many pleasant times and shared  so many treasured memories.  They had been a championship pair on the Cady-Stanton Suffragettes equestrian team.  Beth was Ethan’s favorite jockey and Ethan was Beth’s favorite mount.  High school was over and Beth looked forward to one last ride.

Ethan went down to the stables, changed into his shorts, and waited.  In high school, mounts wore running shorts, brightly displaying in school colors. After high school, mounts ran naked except for their gear.  Custom required Ethan to wait and let his jockey put on his saddle and bridle and place the control rods, wooden dowels secured in his ear canals that put his greater strength fully under the control of his smaller rider.

Beth arrived no more than a few minutes late.  She wore battered leather boots, a casual tee shirt and jeans rather than her brilliantly colored racing silks and white jodhpurs.  After sharing a hug, Beth donned her leather gloves.  Ethan knelt and she helped him with his saddle and bridle.  She placed the control rods.  He stood; the saddle securely restrained his strong arms.  Beth pulled down on his bridle and Ethan leaned forward.  She placed a hand on either side of his head and kissed him fondly on the forehead.

Playfully, she pushed him away and inspected her mount one last time.  Reminiscences of past races, proud victories and hard fought defeats, flashed through her mind.  “One more thing,” she said aloud.

Her words puzzled Ethan.

Beth put her hands on his hips and deftly unfastened the buttons on his shorts.  A sharp jerk of her hand left him stark naked.

Surprised, he pulled away.

Beth yanked his bridle back sharply, yanking on the control rods and quickly quenching any insubordination.  “Ethan, come on!  You’re not in high school anymore.”

“You’re still in high school,” he added.

Real mounts don’t wear clothes.  You just looked so silly.  You’re magnificent.  You have no reason to be embarrassed.  If I were as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t ever wear clothes.”  She tucked the shorts securely in her pocket.  Her collection at home included the shorts of all the mounts she had defeated.

Ethan was confused.  Beth had seen him naked already.  He grimaced to remember how she had tricked him after their last race to the amusement of her friends.  However, he had found it utterly impossible to stay angry at her. She meant so much to him.  If he thought about it,  Ethan had to agree that she was correct.  After high school mounts were naked.  Older ponyboys ran naked in the park and on the flatscreen.  He had seen them himself..  However, never before had he been placed on public display.  One upon a time, a lone male might intimidate a dozen adult women simply by threatening to expose his male paraphernalia.  That time was safely in the past.

Suddenly, he realized that his Beth must ride other mounts too.  When she was older, they would be naked too.  He, at least, would be her first.

“Mount!”  Beth commanded and by reflex Ethan dropped to his left knee.  Beth grabbed his bridle and stepped up with her right foot on his brawny right thigh.  She swung her left leg over his neck and settled comfortably into his saddle.

“Up!” she ordered.  Some day she would own a string of mounts and she hoped they would be as sound and well trained as her Ethan.

Ethan felt her spurs jab sharply into his flanks.  He had never felt anything like it.  In high school riders did not wear spurs but Ethan recalled that he was no longer a high school mount.  Two more years of high school remained for Beth.  Ethan rose smartly and let Beth guide him forward into the yard.  On a weekend, the yard was busier than usual with mounts and riders, but the pair attracted little attention.

The stable lay on the edge of a vast park.  Beth brought her mount to a jog and then to an easy stride.  Ethan ran gladly and carried her effortlessly.  He had had long practice and he lived for these precious moments with her.   He ran and took pleasure in Beth’s closeness.  He relished the feel of her weight in his saddle.  The fragrance of her hair filled his head, even if her scent was only shampoo and cleanliness.  The secret place between her thighs pressed up against his neck, at times more urgently than might be ordinarily needful.  .  He ran and felt her warm breath on his ear as she whispered fond encouragements.  He let all conscious thoughts recede.  He heard his feet strike the ground and the sound of his breathing and of hers.  He ran and lost himself in the seductive rhythm of his stride.

Abruptly, pressure on his control rods broke his reverie.  He came to a quick stop and looked about.  He saw another rider, Cicely Westfall, on a sturdy mount.  Cicely sat astride his brawny neck.  Her graceful legs, ending his booted feet, boasting shining, spurs, draped over his muscular chest.  Her sharp, shining spurs impressed Ethan mightily.

Beth greeted her cheerfully.  Ethan heard little of their conversation.  The control rods impeded hearing.

“I call him Gambler,” Ethan heard Cicely say.  His eye was drawn to the other male. Although the bridle distorted his facial features, Ethan recognized the mount.  Greg as a naked as Ethan.  Greg had been a senior and a leading mount on the Cady-Stanton team three years before when Ethan was a freshman and an eager beginner.  Ethan doubted that Greg would remember him.  Ethan had grown much over the four years and Greg looked even more muscular than he had as a senior.  Greg was now a certified mount.

Ethan noticed several further alterations.  First, Greg had been branded.  Second, the metal ring that pierced the end of his circumcised sex was linked to a second ring set below his navel, lifting his manhood from his groin and displaying his scrotum beneath.  His sac hung flat and empty.  He had been castrated.  Intact males were notoriously lazy, moody, and ill-tempered.  All knew their penchant for insane jealousy and their alacrity for violence.  Most equestriennes chose to geld their mounts to facilitate easier handling and maintain peace in the stable.

Ethan thought to greet him but remembered his place.  Ponies didn’t speak.  Most likely Greg’s vocal cords had been altered to prevent speech.  That was fairly standard for certified mounts.

The women chatted merrily.  As she talked, Beth stroked Ethan’s cheek with the back of her hand.  Ethan relished her touch.  He thought to ease his head back and see if he might press his head against her soft breasts.  At his first touch, Beth pressed a control rod forward sharply and continued her conversation without comment or hesitation.  Foiled in his plan, Ethan leaned his head forward.  He waited impatiently, eager to be back on the trail.

Greg stared back at Beth and Ethan with no hint of recognition.  He looked as impatient to be back on the trail as Ethan.

Ethan was grateful for the jab of Beth’s spurs as she brought him back into motion.  He took several steps, began to jog, and quickly returned an easy stride.  They came to a long flat section of the trail.  Beth saw no other riders, hikers, or bicycles that might get in their way.  She applied her spurs sharply and urged him forward urgently.  Ethan exploded into a sprint.  His speed exhilarated both Beth and himself.  His long strides devoured the ground and they seemed literally to fly.  Both were breathless when she brought him back to a walk.

Beth spotted Amy, Madison, and Laura up ahead at the picnic site beside the lake and brought Ethan back to a run, eager to meet her friends.

“Hey!” Amy shouted when they were close enough.  “Took you long enough.”

“We made great time and I’ve had a wonderful ride,” Beth answered.  “You should try him yourself.”  Tall long-legged Amy would have made an awkward rider, even if she had had the inclination.

“Hey, Beth.  Hey Ethan,” Madison called cheerfully.  Beth brought Ethan to a halt and Madison grabbed his bridle.  Perspiration cascaded from his body and pooled on the ground at his feet.

Laura stood beside Madison, a bit intimidated by the male’s obvious size and strength.  On one level, she knew that she had little to fear.  The male could kick but he was otherwise restrained by his tack.  On another level she remembered her lessons about the male alacrity for violence and the horrors of the Patriarchal Age.

“Ethan’s magnificent,” Madison gushed and petted his neck.  She had been party to his humiliation in the stable but Ethan still relished her touch.   She stroked his flank and slapped his buttock playfully to show her confidence and lack of fear.

“I worry Beth’s too fond of the smelly creature,” Amy warned.  Sometimes she felt a rivalry with the male for Beth’s time and attention.

“Mount!” Beth called and Ethan dropped to his left knee.  Beth dismounted deftly.  “I’m thirsty.” she announced.  Amy handed her a water bottle.

Ethan was thirsty too.  He eyed the bottle keenly.

“I’ll get Ethan a water, Madison offered.  Ethan’s hands were restrained by the saddle and Madison held the bottle while Ethan, kneeling, drank it down greedily in three long swallows.

“Let me give him a water too,” Laura asked with some hesitation.  She held the water bottle and examined the large male, kneeling naked before her.  She could smell the musky odor of his perspiration.  She didn’t want to stare but she couldn’t completely suppress her curiosity about the male paraphernalia hanging between his brawny thighs.  She had seen pictures in school but his immediate physical presence had an ineluctable reality.

His thirst less urgent now, Ethan studied the girl standing before him, the dark cloud of hair that surrounded her head, her bright eyes and curious smile.  He also saw her pert breasts pressing against her tee-shirt and a hint of her nipples and dark areola.  Ethan smiled broadly, hoping no one might guess the cause of his good humor.

Both somewhat distracted, he drank messily, spilling water on himself and Laura, her wet tee-shirt becoming translucent.

While Mary was stuck raising our kids, I hung out in bars after work and cheated on her with any bimbo who would have me.  I did work hard as a carpenter and did as much overtime work as I could get.  I paid off my house in only 15 years and when I needed a new pickup I could pay cash for it.  My wife and kids were well fed and clothed and I felt they should be grateful for that.  They owed me for everything they got.

Then one day disaster struck.  I was standing on a two by four while trying to nail a roof truss in place on a two story house we were building when I slipped and fell.  I fell 10 feet landing on a two by four on what would be the ceiling of the first floor.  I painfully had landed with one leg on either side of the board and blacked out from the pain.  Unconscious I then slid off and fell another 1 feet to the floor below.  I awoke in great pain in the ambulance and was given a shot of morphine by the paramedic.

They wheeled me into the Emergency room and soon they had nurses cutting off my clothes so the doctors could examine me.  The doctor in charge told me they were going to take me into surgery and try to save my life.  The anesthesiologist told me she had the good stuff and gave me a partial dose of a drug which made the pain go away and left me drowsy.  I barely remember them wheeling me into the operating room then all went black.

The next thing I knew I awoke in the intensive care section with a tube down my throat.  I could not talk nor could I move.  As I awoke more and more I realized I was in a body cast.  When the doctor came in to see me, he told me, ” You are a lucky man.  We are pretty sure you will live, but you will never be the man you were before.  We had to remove your sex organs and repair your torn colon.  You have a broken pelvis that we repaired by putting a titanium plate and screws in you.  We were able to save almost an inch of your penis but you will have no feeling in it.  You also broke both of your collar bones and your left arm”  He turned and left the room.  I lay there motionless pondering what he had just told me.  I had lost my sex organs and now had a cock of less than an inch with no feeling in it.  I found I could move my fingers but not my head.  A couple of days later the doctor removed my breathing tube and I was moved to a private room.  I learned that I was fixed into an immobilizer. A steel frame that was connected to me by screws into my bones.  I was in a plaster cast from my below my hips up over my head  and both arms inside of my cast.  They had put a catheter in me to drain off my urine but since I would be unable to use a bed pan they had me in a diaper.  I was helpless as a baby.

Mary finally came to visit me.  She told me that the company I was working for was fighting a claim for workman’s comp because I had violated their policy by not using a scaffold and standing on a mere two by four timber.  She told me that our son had connected her with a lawyer to advise her.  She had me sign a couple of papers by telling me that my hospital bills would be astronomical and she wanted to save our house.  She told me that she had a friend who was a notary and had dated the transfer of our house to a year ago.  She had also applied for an uncontested divorce and cleaned out our bank account.  If I were sued I was destitute and they would get nothing.  I had never given her credit for having so much acumen.  She was really quite crafty.  She sweetly asked me if there was anything she could bring me to make my life more pleasant.  I told her I was used to drinking alcohol every day and I wanted her to smuggle me in something to drink.

I was being fed intravenously.  Every 2 hours day and night the orderlies would come in and turn me over to prevent my getting pneumonia.  Mary had told the nurses to let her be the one to change my diaper and wash my bottom.  They had been glad to be rid of that chore and so Mary came to be a nurse to me.  When I was face down she would remove my diaper and wash my bottom.  She then rubbed my bottom with baby oil.  My legs were spread out by the frame giving her total access.  As she rubbed my bottom with oil I felt her shove a finger up my ass.  I told her, “Please don’t do that to me Mary.”  She answered me saying,” You thought it was fine to shove your nasty cock up my ass so it should be fine for me to use yours.” She soon shoved another finger inside of me. She finger fucked me for a good 20 minutes or so before withdrawing her fingers and putting a clean diaper on me.  She made me say, ” Thank you Ma’am”.  She had me helpless and in her power.

The next day when Mary came to visit me she reached into her purse and pulled out a baby bottle full of white wine.  She put the bottle to my lips and I greedily sucked on the nipple to get some alcohol into my system.  Mary said, “That’s it baby, suck on that nipple.”  She had never called me baby before.  She had an air about her I had never seen before.  She seemed full of confidence and was no longer the meek girl I had controlled.  She took out a razor and shaved of my moustache and goatee.  She told me, ” They make you look like a man, which you no longer are.”    I knew my diaper was dirty but she waited to change me until the orderlies had turned me over so I was face down.  Once they had left Mary removed my diaper and Again washed my bottom.  This time she did not use her fingers to poke in my bottom but she had a dildo she was screwing me with.  She said, ” You need to learn to use your pussy now sweetie.  Since you are no longer a man you must be a girl.”  She was certainly treating me like one.  I knew if I did not do what she wanted she would stop coming to see me.  So  I thanked her for fucking me.  She used her finger tips to massage my stub of a penis.  I felt nothing.  She said, ” You won’t be cheating on me with other women now.”  She was gloating over my condition.

Every day Mary came back to visit me again.  She kissed me on the forehead and told me my lips looked chapped.  She applied some chap stick on them and I asked her for my bottle of wine.  She told me to close my eyes and when I did she shoved a nipple in my mouth I began sucking on it.  It was urine!  I spit it out.  She told me I had to drink it or she would not give me my bottle of wine.  She said, “That is my golden nectar and you will come to love it.” She had me in her power and knew it.  I began sucking on the bottle of her urine.  She smiled and said I was a good girl. Once I had emptied that bottle, she gave me my bottle of wine.  She sat with me until I had emptied that bottle and then took the empty bottle from me and left.  When the orderlies came in to turn me over, they told me that the red lipstick looked good on me.  That chap stick had been lipstick!

The next day when Mary came to see me she had somebody with her.  I could not see who it was as I was face down.  But she was explaining what she was doing as she removed my diaper and then began fucking me with a dildo.  She even let the other person ram the dildo in and out for about half of the time.  She was explaining that this was all a part of my feminization.  I felt soft feminine hand rubbing lotion on my legs.  When I was turned over again I saw our daughter Becky with Mary.  I had to sweetly thank both ladies before getting my bottles fed to me.  Becky fed me the urine and Mary my wine. The hospital staff thought I had a loving family that took good care of me.  They were turning me into a girl.  The ladies made up my face before they left.  Strangely I had begun to crave urine and looked forward to either Mary or Becky showing up each day.

For an entire week Mary did not show up at all, but Becky did.  Becky delighted in fucking me with a dildo and she even used a much bigger one than Mary had used on me.  She made me moan like a slut while she rammed it in and out of my poor bottom.  She made me tell her how much I loved being her bitch.  She even made me suck on the dildo to get it wet instead of using baby oil as lubricant.  She painted my fingernails and toenails bright red to match my lipstick.  The next time I saw Mary she was sporting D cup boobs.  She had gotten breast implants to match those of Becky.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months Mary came to see me less and less.  My facial hair never did grow back.  I supposed it was because I was no longer able to produce testosterone.  Becky was doing more of my care.  Every time she did visit me, she again put lipstick on me and painted my nails.  She made me drink a baby bottle full of her urine before she would give me my wine.  She told me Mary had taken a lover and he was a real man who treated her like a lady.  I was helpless in my cast and no longer a man.

When I finally got out of the cast and they removed the screws from my immobilizer I was weak as a kitten.  I had lost 35 pounds and was now a shadow of my former self.  I was finally able to see my nude body.  I had grown boobs while in that cast.  I had a little stub of a thing where my dick had once been.  With my painted nails and wearing lipstick I look like a girl.  My hair had grown long and shaggy while I was in that cast.  My body was covered with dead skin but my legs and face were baby smooth.  Those were the exposed parts they had treated with lotion and hair remover.  I went through some therapy to learn to walk again and finally was ready to be discharged.  Now that I was able to move I could use the bathroom and no longer needed to be in a diaper.  When Mary or Becky would come by to bring me my urine and wine, they made me fuck myself with the dildo while they watched.  They loved watching me suck it to get it nice and wet and also loved the way moaned while fucking myself.  They had turned me into a bimbo.

My hips were now wider and I was wearing a hospital gown.  Mary came to my room and she had her new lover with her.  He was a big strong looking black man.  I had never liked black men even though I had to work with some.  She told me that she and I were now divorced and she was in love with James.  She spelled it out clearly for me.  She told me that she and James would allow me to live with them in HER house as their maid, or they would be glad to drive me to a homeless shelter.  The bitch had snookered me out of all I owned.  In my weakened condition I would be fair game in a homeless shelter and so meekly let her redo my lipstick and nail polish.  She gave me a pair of thong panties and a skirt to put on for the ride home.  She fondled my boobs and told me I would need to wear a bra now.

James drove us to his house  where I began my new life.  Mary had sold my house and pickup truck.  She let me know that my clothes had been given to the Goodwill store and that they had been pleased to get them.  I all I had to wear were the skirt and blouse she had brought for me to wear home.  It was made very clear to me that I was to be obedient and do everything I was told or I would have to leave.  She had tricked me into giving her all I owned and now I had to hope I could get a small disability check from Social Security.  They let me know that I would have to turn over even that money to them to pay for my room and board.

Once inside James’s house, he told me, ” There can be only one man in this house and that is me.  You will be our maid, cook laundress and do what ever else we want you to do.  Mary told me how you used to treat her and your kids and now the tables are turned,  I am the attorney who advised Mary on how to handle the financial matters and she has a nice little nest egg now.  Your disability check will be $1200 per month.  I got you on Medicaid as a destitute person which you now are.”  I said, “But James”  and got no farther.  He slapped me so hard across the face that I fell to the floor stunned.  ” He told me, “You will call me sir or master you sissy little bitch.  Mary is now your mistress.  Is that clear?”  I looked up at his menacing figure and meekly said, “Yes sir.”

James told me, ” I am tolerating having you in my house as a favor to Mary but you may be of some use around here.  You are not a prisoner here, you may walk out the front door any time you want but you will take only what you are wearing.”  He went on to say, “While you are here you will be feminine at all times.  You will look pretty for us and any guests we may have here.  You will refuse no order and must smile and be cheerful around us.”  He wanted me to be his slave. He tossed me my new ID card and Medicaid card.  They both had my last name, but the first name on them was Fifi.   He saw my look of bewilderment and told me, ” Your name has been legally changed to Fifi.  We thought it better suited you in your condition than Steve did.  Your checks will be coming in that name and that is what you must use when you go for medical treatment.” Mary asked me, ” What is your name girl?”  I sobbed and told her, ” It is Fifi ma’am.”

She smiled knowing she now owned me.

Mary motioned at me with  her hand and said, ” Come with me Fifi.  I will make you look pretty.”  I got up off of the floor and followed behind her,  She led me to the bathroom and had me sit on the pot facing the wall.  She cut and styled my hair into a feminine pixie cut.  Then she  bleached my hair blond.  She told me, ” You will be a good blond bimbo Fifi.” She plucked my eyebrows and shaved my armpit hair off of me.  She put a collar on my neck that had Fifi inscribed on a brass plate.  She then led me down the basement to what was to be my bedroom.  It was a small windowless room with a double bed in it.  Two walls were made of stone and the other two were painted pink.   There was a dressing table with a mirror and a chest of drawers and a door to a closet.  There was also a teddy bear on the bed.  It looked like a little girl’s room.  I was going to be living in a feminine cell.  They were determined to make me a girl.  I wanted to run from here, but where would I go with no money and dressed as I was?  They had me in a box.  I had to be Fifi their maid, no their slave girl.

Mary opened my closet and showed me my skirts and blouses that I was to wear as their maid.  She opened a drawer and pulled out a short pink nightie and told me to put it on.  It didn’t even cover my ass but my boobs bulged out the flimsy fabric.  She led me back upstairs for my owner to inspect me.  James looked me over and told me he though I might be acceptable.  He was standing there naked and told me, ” As a sign of respect Fifi, I want you to kiss my black ass.”  I shuddered with disgust but knew I had to do whatever he wanted.  I knelt behind him and kissed his ass cheeks.  He snarled, ” Lick my asshole bitch.”  He wanted me to totally debase myself but I had to obey him.  I spread his ass cheeks and licked his asshole.  He told me, “Work your tongue inside of me Fifi.”  I worked my tongue inside of his asshole as far as it would go and wiggled it to please him.  When he finally let me pull my tongue out he made me thank him for the honor of tasting his shit.  He had shown me how low my status was now.

Mary handed me a baby bottle of her urine and I knew what to do,  I sucked it dry to get my alcohol.  I asked her if I could please drink it out of a glass and she told me she like the symbolism of having me using a baby bottle.  She knew it made me feel helpless as a baby.  Sadly I knew she was right.  I did.  She made me lay on my back on the floor and hold my bottle with both hands.  She delighted in seeing me act like a baby.  Only when I had emptied that bottle did she give me my alcohol.  Tonight my alcohol bottle was filled with straight vodka.  I was weaving as I made my way back to my room in the basement.  I lay in my bed and cried myself to sleep.

The first week was spent with Mary showing me how to cook, clean their house and do laundry.  When she a James would make love I had to stand beside the bed and watch how a real man pleasured a lady.  When they finished I had to lick and suck his semen from her well used vagina or asshole.  James liked doing her anally.  James would also have me lick his big cock.  His cock was the same size as the black dildo Becky had used on me.  When he fondled my tits he told me that I was going to get a boob job.  “All my bitches have D cup boobs.”, is how he put it.  All of my skirts were short and all my blouses had a low cut neckline.  With D cup boobs I would be showing a lot of cleavage.

The following Friday James drove me to a private clinic.  I had to sign a consent form using the name Fifi Johnson.  The procedure was done that morning and I was discharged that evening.  Under the bandages I now had D cup boobs and they were there for the rest of my life.  There was no way I could ever be Steve again even if I left James and Mary.  The weight on my chest would take some getting used to.  With my thin frame and these big boobs I looked very top heavy.  I was now a freak.

Once the bandages were removed my thoughts about my low cut blouses showing a lot of cleavage came true.  James made me go braless since it amused him to watch my boobs jiggle when I walked.  He also started making me suck his huge cock while he would squeeze my boobs.  He told me, “Fifi I  am going to teach you to deep throat a man.  It is a skill that will make men want you.”  He had me tilt my head back and look up into his eyes.  He then jammed his stiff cock partway down my throat cutting off my air supply.  Just when I though I would die, he pulled his cock out completely.  I caught a few deep breaths and he once again jammed his cock down my throat.  Each time he shoved his cock in it went a little farther down my throat until at last my nose was buried in his pubic hair and his entire 10″ cock was down inside of me.  He pulled out of my throat slowly and told me, ” You did well Fifi for your first time.  We will work on this every day until I can fuck your throat easily.”  I had tears in my eyes and was gasping for air but had to smile sweetly for him.

Mary had me exercise with her.  She told me a girl had to work at it to maintain her figure.  She had me doing leg lifts and doing bumps and grinds as well as crunches.  She looked beautiful and I regretted ever having cheated on her.  When we finished our exercising she took me into the kitchen.  There she told me, ” You have been eating the same food as us and that is hardly the way things should be around here Fifi.  From now on you will eat only this special mixture I am going to teach you how to make.”  She put some vegetables into the food processor along with some oatmeal and water and a 1/4th of a can of Alpo dog food.  She turned on the processor and soon had a pitcher full of a green mush.  She told me, “This had all the nutrients you need to stay healthy but should be less pleasurable for you to eat.  This pitcher should last you a week and it had better because that along with the urine and your vodka is all you will be getting.  Is that clear to you Fifi?”  I lowered my eyes and replied, “Yes Mistress.”

Each day I got up and dressed then did my hair and makeup before my owners awoke.  I fixed them a nice breakfast then had a bit of my green mush for my morning meal.  Then I cleaned the kitchen and did the housework for the day before exercising with  Mistress in the afternoon.  When James came home from work he would practice fucking my throat.  As the weeks went by I got to be good at taking him fully and working my throat muscles to get him to orgasm quickly.

Mary started using a strap-on dildo to screw me.  She enjoyed the feeling of power it gave her to bend me over and screw me doggy style so hard it made my boobs sway back and fourth.  She like James always made me thank her sweetly for doing me. In a few months they had stripped me of any shred of pride.  They had made me an obedient slave girl.

One day James told me, ” I am taking Mary to Paris for a vacation.  You will be happy to know I have found someone to baby sit you while we are gone.”  I had seen the suitcases and assumed they were going somewhere, but had hoped they were going to take me with them.  The doorbell rang and when I opened the door there stood Frank, my son.  He had bulked up a lot since I last saw him.  He said, ” Hello daddy, or should I say Fifi.”  He walked inside the house and looked me over closely.  James greeted Frank and told him, ” Fifi has learned some new tricks.”.  James then told me, ” Show Frank how you can deep throat a cock Fifi.”  I blushed despite myself, this was my son.  But I said, “Yes Master.”

I got on my knees in front of Frank and asked, ” May I please suck your cock sir?   You may shove it down my throat if you wish sir.”  It made my blood curdle to utter such things but it was required of me.  Frank looked down at me and laughed.  He was delighting in my disgrace and said, ” Say Pretty please Fifi.”  I did as he said and then he gave me permission.  He had made me beg to suck him.  How low I had fallen.  I undid his belt and unzipped his fly.  When I lowered his pants, I could see he wore no underwear.  He was much hairier than I had ever been and even better hung.  I kissed the head of his cock respectfully and then took it into my mouth.  As I sucked on it I felt it harden and grow.  I began to swallow it to get it in my throat as James had taught me to do.  As I looked up into Frank’s eyes he said, ” That’s it bitch, gobble that cock like a good whore.”  Mary remarked, ” Family togetherness is a beautiful thing to see.”  When Frank shot his load down my throat and pulled out, he told me, ” Pack some clothes Fifi, don’t forget your curling iron and makeup.”  Mary handed me a couple of trash bags to pack my belongings in and I went down to my room.  As James handed Frank a list of instructions for my maintenance I heard Frank tell him, ” Thank you sir, I will see that Fifi gets the care she deserves.”  Damn, even Frank called James sir.

When I had packed my things and returned upstairs holding two trash bags Frank took them from me with one big hand and Mary handed him another bag with enough ingredients to make my mush for two weeks and a couple of empty baby bottles.  They had obviously discussed me at length.  I was wearing a short black skirt, scoop neck blouse, panties and open toed heels.  Thusly clad, my son led me out into the snowy winter day.  He put my bags in the back of his van and had me sit in the front seat as he went back to get and load the luggage of James and Mary.  When all was loaded my owners came out and sat in the middle seats of the van.  As Frank drove them to the airport James was telling me to obey Frank as I would him or Mary.  He made me tell him I would be a good girl and do as I was told.

Once we had let them out at the airport, Frank drove me to his apartment.  As he drove he told me, ” Fifi you will love my lover Bruce.  He is about your size and kinky as hell.”                      That remark let me know that Frank was gay and not just using me out of hate for how I had treated him.  As soon as we walked into the apartment this young blonde man walked up to me and gave me a big French kiss.  I had never kissed a man and it shocked me as his tongue invaded my mouth.  Bruce told me, “Girl we will have a lot of fun together,” Frank told me to get my clothes off.  He said, ” In my house you will always be naked.” Frank threw my bags into a corner of the room and took me to the kitchen to start making my mush and their lunch.  He told me, ” I work nights so we have our big meal at lunch.”

They ate their lunch and I had some mush.  I knew now that I was mere property.

After they had eaten their lunch, Bruce asked Frank, ” Can I do her now?”  Frank just nodded yes.  Bruce led me to the bedroom and had me lay face down on the bed.  He smeared my ass with cold lard working some of it into my asshole.  He then proceeded to insert one finger after another into my ass until he had his entire hand inside of me.  As he rammed his fist in and out of me he told me, ” Moan like you love it bitch.  I want you to love me doing this to you as I do when Frank does it to me.”  This sissy fag was fist fucking me and telling me to moan like I loved it.  When he pulled his slimy hand out of my ass he made me kiss it.  The bastard even made me tell him how much I loved having him teach me a new skill.  If Mary had not given my guns away I would have shot the fag.  Now I was a toy for who ever wanted to use me.  Bruce fist fucked me and my son watched me being defiled by the feminine fairy he lived with.

Frank then took me to the bathroom and had me kneel in front of him holding my baby bottle in place while he filled it with piss.  Then he took a medicine bottle out of his pocket and using an eyedropper he squirted some fluid into the bottle of his urine.  I asked him what that was and he told me, ” Fifi that is your estrogen.  Mom told us kids she was making you feminine and doing it by having you drink her pee laced with estrogen.  You have no testosterone now and the estrogen controls you.”  That bitch had tricked me when I was helpless.  He also added some powder into the bottle of pee and then screwed the top with the nipple on it onto the bottle of pee.   He handed it to me and watched as I lay on my back and began sucking it down.  Frank told me that I was on a low dose of heroine.  The dose taken like it was gave me no pleasure but now my body had to have it.  That is why I craved drinking piss, it was spiked with heroine.  No wonder I had tits when they cut my cast off.  Mary had connived and manipulated me into a situation which left me no choice but to be a slave girl for her and her man.  I had become the family joke.

The next morning Frank took had me wearing heels and a robe when he led me across the hall to the opposite apartment.  When he rang the bell the door was opened by Becky.  My daughter and son had apartments across the hall from each other.  She had me come in and Frank went back to his apartment.  She had me shed my robe and then displayed me to her roommate Candy.  They were both naked and I could see that we all had the same size boobs.  James had converted them too.  They were also both blond as was I now.

Becky told me they were going to teach me to be a stripper so I could work with them at the club.  I told her, ” I would never get on a stage and take my clothes off in front of a bunch of men.”  She smiled and said, ” Yes you will Fifi and you will beg Frank to let you dance.  You will dance to get the special piss you need.”  She put on the CD with the song “The Stripper” on it.  They made me dance sexy to the song a few times naked before they dressed me and had me dance while removing my clothes in a sexy manner.  They told me it was important that I be naked when the song ended.  We took a break while they each had a salad for lunch.  Becky handed me the dildo she had me using in the hospital and had me demonstrate to Candy how I could suck it and fuck myself with it.  Candy remarked, ” That would make a wonderful scene at the club but would get us closed down.”  Becky said, ” Yes it would.  If Fifi can do it for two she can do it for 200.” By 4:00pm when Frank came to drive us girls to the club I was nailing my dance every time.  I wore a short black skirt, my heels and a white low cut blouse.  Becky was carrying my costume in a garment bag.  She explained that I was to perform twice that night and in between dances I would be a waitress serving drinks.  It was already past the time when I usually got my piss and vodka and I was getting stomach cramps.  I also had goose bumps on my skin.

When we got to the club, I learned that Frank worked there as an assistant manager and bouncer.  I learned that we all worked for James.  He owned this club along with several others and also had a real estate company who owned the apartment building where my children lived.  I was kept busy hustling drinks for the crowd that grew in size as the evening progressed.  I had to go to the ladies room and throw up.  I was getting sick.  Becky saw me doing that and told me, ” It will only get worse for you until you get your fix.  You are now a junkie bimbo.”  She took me to the room where the strippers changed into their costumes and had me get dressed in what I was to dance in.  She told me, ” You will be fine Fifi.  Just dance like you practiced and once you are totally nude do a slow turn completely around so all can see your body.  Then leave your clothes on the stage and run back to this room.  Leave you heels on, but everything else comes off.”

The announcer called me Fifi the Dancing Queen.  My music started and I began dancing.  I tried not to let the audience bother me and just did as I had practiced.  At the end of the song I stood naked in heels and all could see I was not a real girl but a freak.  After the required complete turn I dashed back to the dressing room while Becky retrieved my costume.  By the time she brought it into the changing room I was dressed in my skirt and blouse again.  She told me I had done well but to get back to serving drinks.  She gave me a swat on the fanny as I left.

The customers looked at me differently now that they had seen me naked  and most men I served drinks to tucked some money down my blouse.  An hour later I had to get ready for my second show.  It also went well.  My cramps were even worse and my eyes were watery.  I had to endure the misery until the club closed, we had cleaned off the tables and Frank had helped the manager count the proceeds of the evening.  As Frank drove us home I was doubled over in pain and crying.

Frank carried me into his apartment where he stood me up and had me get naked again.  The tip money fell out on the floor and Bruce picked it all up and handed to Frank.  I was shaking badly and Frank asked me, ” What do you want now Fifi?”  I answered, ” I want my piss sir.”  He smiled and said, ” Perhaps you have earned it tonight Fifi, but I want to watch you and Bruce make out with each other first.  Lots of kissing and fondling each other by you two sissies will be fun to watch.  Make it look like you two are in love as I video tape you.”

We put on a nice performance for Frank as he recorded it on his video cam.  He kept us at it for a half hour and it ended with Bruce fisting me again.  He finally gave me my bottle of specially enhanced urine.  He smiled down at me as I sucked it greedily down.

My cramps were nearly gone when I got my bottle of vodka.

The next morning bright and early I was again taken to Becky’s  apartment where I had to learn a new routine for tonight’s performance.  There was no use in pretending to myself that I would not dance.  I knew now that I would do whatever it took to get my fix.  All those exercises Mary had made me do were the moves I needed to be a stripper.  Since I had my fix at around 4am I should be ok until I got off work again.  Instead of injecting the heroine they had me drinking piss to get it.  I was indeed a junkie and also a slut.

The night James and Mary returned from Europe they came to the club  to watch me dance and waitress.  After my second show they took me home with them.  James told me he was proud of the skills I had learned.  He said, ” You were a useless thing when I met you, but you have turned into a money making girl.  You now have the skills to be a whore, a waitress, a stripper or an escort for perverts.  Men will pay money to be deep throated by you or to have you drink their piss.  Besides it was fun for me to ruin your life.”  He drove us to his house.  Mary fixed my bottles and I gladly lay down to suck them dry.

As I lay drinking my fix, James told Mary that the trip to Europe and the fancy way they had lived while there was his way of thanking her but was also a fond goodbye.  He told her she was to move out tomorrow morning.  He told her, ” I give Fifi to you and you will have a 3 bedroom apartment on the ground floor of the building where your son and daughter already live.  They  will move in with you and Fifi.   You will all be one happy family.”  Mary broke down and cried and begged James to reconsider but he was firm.  He told her had another younger lady moving in with him tomorrow.  That night Mary slept in bed with me in my basement room.

The next morning Mary and I and all of our clothes were moved into her new apartment.  Becky and Candy moved into the second bedroom with Frank and Bruce taking the 3rd bedroom.  Mary and I had the master bedroom.  James had given Mary all of the money from my disability checks along with the money I had made dancing and waiting tables.  That money along with the  money she had from selling my house and belongings gave her financial security.  She took a job at the club as a beautician to the strippers just to keep busy.  Becky, Candy and I worked as dancers and Frank as the assistant manager and bouncer.  At home everybody was free to use me as they wanted sexually.  I hoped the novelty would wear off in time.

After being a stripper for a year I was told I was no longer needed there and let go.  My tips had dropped considerably from what they had been.  I had hoped to be allowed to stay home and be a maid for the rest of the family but Mary told me that was not to be the case.  She told me, ” You need to bring me money you ungrateful bitch.  No money no treat for you.”  I had to beg James for a job in another of his clubs.  He got me a job as a topless waitress in an after-hour night club which catered to black patrons.  He let me know that I was to please any customer who would take me into the back room.  I was now a prostitute.

That Job lasted about 6 months before I was replaced with a white girl.  Frank had me making porno movies which he marketed to the gay and perverted crowd.  His best sellers were those where I was having sex with animals.  When I became sick it was found that I had full blown AIDS and was dying from the disease.

These words are being written by a reporter who is going to use my tale to write a book she says.  I am laying in a bed in a hospice ward where every 8 hours the nurse gives me a methadone shot to ward off convulsions.  My eyes no longer focus and I am very weak. I hope others can profit from the mistakes I have made in my life.  If I had it to do over again I would very loving and faithful to my wife.  My kids would have found me a warm loving and generous father.  Perhaps they would have gone to college and had decent careers instead of being involved in the seedy sex business.  As it is now I am dying as a lonely freak of a human.  I wanted to leave something behind besides a useless corpse.

The best way to summarize Amy was to say that she was a sophisticated and well-bred young woman.   Everything about Amy was petite except her hips.  Amy was just over five feet tall.  She almost always wore high heels.  Her body was quite slender and feminine.  Everything about Amy was feminine.  By that I mean her neck, her waist, her wrists and her ankles were all narrow.  She had a pointy chin and a pointier nose.  Her head was quite small, surrounded on both sides by beautiful, straight, long brown hair.  It was obvious she spent a good amount of time on her hair; the highlights of lighter colors were flawless.  She had long eyelashes and never, ever was seen at B-school without makeup on.  Most girls with this sort of physique tend to be lacking in the breast department but Amy had a nice firm set of beautifully developed Cs.

Amy had a snappy personality.  I wouldn’t say she was particularly vocal, but she wasn’t quiet either.  Her views on business weren’t exactly brilliant, but she never said anything stupid.  Her comments were usually well measured.  She was the type of student who stayed within herself but projected confidence when forced to stand in front of the room and give a presentation.  Her hand-gestures were wonderful to track as she delivered her carefully rehearsed lines flawlessly.  Men gravitated toward her and she seemed perfectly comfortable with the attention.  Rumors connected her with various men at the school, but they were all unsubstantiated.  She had her share of girlfriends, but wasn’t a gossipy type.

Amy drove a BMW and always dressed with great style and grace.  Other than her impressive collection of high heels, she usually wore skirts.  Once, on a Saturday when we had a project due, she wore blue jeans and holy shit did her smoking lower body ever fill those jeans with precision and grace.

Like most men, I was totally smitten with her beauty and her personality.  It wasn’t that she was particularly brilliant; she just carried herself like a woman – sweet as sugar, but not afraid to crack a joke.  She didn’t take herself too seriously, but at the same time she knew that she was a petite little babe.

As I got to know her, I began to realize that in some ways she was quite vapid and materialistic.  She loved buying Prada bags.  It seemed to be her main hobby.  When I asked her what music she was interested in, she mumbled something about Cold Play.  Her main goals were shopping, and finding a marketing job that would pay her a six-figure salary, in that order.

In the first year of school, we were in different groups.  I barely knew her and more admired her from afar.  Then, in the second year, we were placed in the same study group.  I got to know her better.  Most people in business school were in their late 20s.  Amy was 27 and I was 32, having suffered a few additional years in the real world before deciding I could use an MBA.  The added experience gave me a real-world edge on many of my classmates.  At some point or another, I summoned up the courage to ask Amy to dinner.  Much to my delight she said yes.

The first date went well.  We ate sushi and the conversation flowed freely.  Amy wasn’t the most interesting girl in the world, but her beauty and general affect more than compensated for her lack of an apparent edge.  Her movements were precise and well coordinated.  The simple act of pushing her hair back from her forehead or clearing her throat was so lovely that I was soon transfixed.  I loved the way her hair flowed so gracefully around that narrow neck.  Each time she turned her head I caught a glimpse of those perfectly formed tiny little ears, each with a good-sized diamond stud in her pierced lobes.

Our first date was a success!  We both enjoyed ourselves.  I made her laugh a few times.  When I dropped her off at her posh condo, she permitted me to give her a peck on the cheek.  Outside of that I didn’t want to push it too far.  I had a good thing going and didn’t want to be overeager.

Upon completion of our date, I was amazed with the painful tightness of my balls.  I had no choice but to exceed the speed limit when driving back to my apartment.  When I arrived home I barely had to touch myself before I exploded all over the place.  The big wad of tissues I used was unable to contain the mess and I spilled my own seed on my pants and the floor.

The second date was even better.  We met for cocktails and talked for hours.  She seemed more relaxed with me and told me more about her family.  They were quite wealthy and lived on a huge piece of property west of town.  She was an only child.  Again I was almost overwhelmed by her beauty.  At one point she left to use the ladies room.  When she returned I admired the way she moved across the room.  Her hips swung to and fro with such efficiency and purpose.  I studied her perfectly toned legs as they propelled her smoothly back to me.

When I dropped her off I was hoping she’d invite me upstairs.  Especially after we kissed deeply.  But then she seemed in a rush and I was left in a state of heightened excitement that could only be resolved with a late-night date with Rosy Palm.  Once again I was amazed at the intensity of my orgasm.  I was in love!

After that we went on one more date.  I’m not sure why, but I was probably too pushy during the date.  I revealed too much about myself.  Maybe I came off as somewhat of a slob.  Maybe I came off as a bit desperate.  Whatever the case was, I could feel her withdrawing from me.

She then proceeded to ignore my phone calls and emails for a week.  I feared I was sunk!  But I wasn’t about to back off that easily.  Amy was too big a prize.  Let me first say that I realize this is a somewhat animalistic thought, but I do believe all men think this way:  Her vagina, though out of sight, was constantly on my mind!  It could only be so perfect!  I pictured it nestled there beneath her little skirt and her tiny panties, a perfectly formed lower-case “v,” with the thin slit serving as the gateway to a narrow cavern of Female – the most luxurious cavern the world would ever know.  I imagined how incredibly soft the skin must be and how Amy must take such incredible care of her prized possession.  I could picture the way her panties must hug her snatch – from it’s formation at her naval all the way beneath her perfect ass – the way the flesh must undulate so gracefully away from the surrounding area.  I found myself wondering if she shaved her pubic hair entirely, or if she groomed the hair so that it formed a neat triangle.  I pictured her sitting spread-legged on a chair in front of a mirror after a shower with her eyelashes pointed downward in rapt attention as she deftly manicured her perfect little cunt with the utmost attention to detail.

A week after our lousy third date, I spied her walking alone across campus to the parking lot.  I decided it was now or never.  Even though the writing was on the wall I wanted answers.

I walked quickly and admired her beautiful, pert ass as it moved in the confines of her miniskirt.  Today she wore leather boots, which was a break from her usual high heels.  Man was she a nugget!

She turned her head as I approached and I could see the slight hints of a negative reaction.

“Oh.  Hi James,” she said politely, but with a noticeable lack of affect in her voice.

I won’t bore you with the details of the first five pained minutes of our conversation, but let’s just say Amy was less than enthused with our last date.  She felt I was a tad pushy and I made her feel uncomfortable with some of the things I revealed about past relationships.  I argued a few points with her but it quickly became a debate about semantics.  The point was that Amy was no longer interested in me.

Maybe I should have just let it go.  But that’s not really the way I am.  Plus, I was totally infatuated with Amy and I didn’t want to give up without a fight.  I also felt she was hiding something from me.

“Look Amy,” I began.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to date anymore, but I just have this feeling you’re holding back on the truth.  Are you sure there isn’t more that you aren’t telling me?”

Amy stopped in her tracks and faced me.  She placed her legs neatly together and huddled her arms close to her body.  “Okay,” she said as though she had come to a major decision point.  Her voice and posture changed.  It became much more pointed, less evasive.  “Do you really want to hear the truth, James?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it offends you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

A hint of sadness filled her eyes, as though she felt bad about what she was about to say.  I could see Amy was having second thoughts about her change in course.  “Amy, don’t be afraid to hurt my feelings.  Just be honest with me.  I can take it.”

She took a deep breath.  How is it that a beautiful woman could look beautiful by simply inhaling the air around her?  “Okay, James.  Don’t take this the wrong way.  You’re actually a really nice guy.  But you’re not the type of guy I would ever consider spreading my legs for.”

The truth hit me so hard.  I just stood there.

Emboldened, Amy continued. “I swear I’m not trying to be mean or anything.  It’s just the truth.  You’re not an alpha male.  I don’t think you have it in you.”  I saw her eyes drift down momentarily; the implications clear, before she refocused on my face.  “I’m sorry,” she added.  “You’re a good guy and I want us to remain friends, but that’s it.”  With that she turned and walked abruptly away.

I probably should have left it at that.  Instead, I decided to get brave.  If Amy had the guts to make such a statement, I reasoned that be so quick to let things go.  After all, she happened to be right.  I was no alpha male.  I had certain tendencies that my readers are well aware of.

She was in the process of climbing into her BMW when I caught up to her again.  “What is it?” she said with a note of irritation in her voice, while at the same time focusing her sweet smile on me in an effort to be as kind as possible.

“I’m sorry to bug you again,” I said, somewhat breathless from chasing her.  “Look, you’re right,” I said.  My face turned red.  “If you have a moment, I have a confession to make.”

“A confession?” The corners of her mouth curled upwards in curiosity.

“I just wanted to say that you’re more perceptive than you let on.  You’re right.  I’m not an alpha male,” I stuttered.  “I more the submissive type.”

I was about to walk away until I saw the look on her face.  For the first time, her tense expression faded.  Her facial muscles relaxed and she gently nodded her head while her smile widened.  “I know,” she said.  “I could totally tell.  You are way too impressed with me.”

“I can’t help it,” I countered.  “You’re stunningly beautiful.”

She nodded her head in agreement and paused.  I expected the next words out of her mouth would be “Thank you.”  Instead she surprised me by saying, “I thought it was cute the way you fawned all over me.  It’s not a trait I’m really looking for in a real relationship, but I assume I can count on your loyalty, right?”  She raised her eyebrows challengingly at me.

“Absolutely,” I said.  In truth I wanted her to know she had more than my loyalty!  I would gladly clean the dirt from the soles of her high heels if she told me too.  Instead I said rather meekly, “Whatever you need, just ask.”

“Thank you,” she said.  “I will.”

I again prepared to walk away, but Amy stopped me again.  It was as though she suddenly realized the true intent of my commentary.  “Wait, James,” she said, smiling mischievously.  “Do you mean if I need ANYTHING at all I can count on you?”

This was getting interesting.  I could see the gears turning in her head as she began to realize my true intent.  It emboldened me.  “Amy, your wish is my command,” I said as earnestly as I could.  I bowed my head slightly in deference to her, a subtle indication to her that I consider her to be above me in the natural order of things.

Her laughter sent mixed signals.  Did she think I was just kidding, or did she realize now that I was submitting myself to her?  Her next comment left no doubt that it was the latter -  “Glad to know I can count on your [she paused] obedience.”  Her eyes locked on mine.  It was obvious to me she understood the situation to a tee.  She became confident and serious.  “Say, James, I’m curious.  Tell me.  After our dates were over, when you went home, did you like, touch yourself?”

“Yes, I did.”  I looked down at my feet.

I felt her finger tuck beneath my chin.  Just the feel of her touch sent a jolt through my body.  I felt a rapid swelling in my pants.  “Look at me when I talk to you,” she said with sweet, feminine authority.  This was perfect!

Our eyes met.  “It’s okay, James,” she said.  “I think it’s cute.”

“Really?”  I felt light-headed.

She laughed.  “Yeah.  I mean, it’s also gross.  And perverted.  But cute.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.  She released me chin and our eyes locked again.  I stared into her deep brown eyes and was overwhelmed with the moment.  She looked as though she was analyzing me, but she also looked quite pleased with things.  She continued to stare and smile, letting her words sink in.

“I should probably get going,” she said, reaching into her Prada handbag and grasping the keys to her 330ix.

“Wait, Amy,” the words poured out of me. “I live five minutes from here.  Want to come over and I’ll show you what I did after each of our dates.  You don’t have to take any clothing off.  You can sit comfortably on my couch and watch me.  It would be my way of honoring you.”

Amy took a deep breath and a step away.  She laughed nervously.  “Wait, let me get this straight.  You want me to come over so you can masturbate while I watch?” she had a note of incredulity to her voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said.  “Forget it.”

Amy appeared to catch herself.  She smiled so sweetly I wanted to melt.  Her eyes drifted down again where she no doubt caught site of my tented groin.  “James,” she said laughing and putting her hand over her mouth, then removing it.  “You know, it’s okay.  Don’t feel bad.  I totally understand where you’re coming from.  And I’m touched.  A little bit grossed out, but touched.”

“It would be a great honor, ma’am.” I said, lowering my voice.

Amy laughed.  “No, you can’t call me ma’am.  I’ll tell you what, James.  From now on if nobody else is around you can call me ‘Miss Amy.’  I think that conveys an appropriate amount of respect.”

“Yes Miss Amy,” I said.  “Thank you, Miss Amy.”

Amy looked down at her tiny wristwatch.  “Okay, this is getting a little bit weird,” she said.  “I have to go now.”

“You know I would never lay a finger on you, right?” I said.

“Of course I know that,” she laughed.

I stood there, red-faced while she got into her car.  I waited until she was buckled up and she turned and looked at me.  I waved meekly.  Amy responded by blowing a quick kiss, smiling knowingly, and then driving away.

**********

The parking-lot interaction with beautiful, sweet Amy was I could think about for the next few days.  I saw her in school from time to time, but she was busy and never made any time to talk with me.  I figured that she had her fun and was moving on with those alpha males she apparently was more interested in.  It was really disappointing to me because I was sure we had established some sort of innate understanding and she had seemed to enjoy herself.  Still, as the days went by, my hopes for additional encounters faded.

Then, on a Thursday afternoon, I was sitting outside the school hall smoking a butt.  Suddenly, to my great joy, Amy was there.  She had snuck up behind me.  She wore an incredibly sexy maroon-colored, velvet mini, matching heels, and a tight blouse that wrapped smartly around her svelte upper-body curves.

“Smoking is bad for you,” she said.

“Oh, hi Amy.” I blurted.

“What happened to Miss Amy?” she teased, good-naturedly.

“Hi Miss Amy,” I said.  My heart began beating faster.

“Remember the other day when you said, “Your wish is my command,” said Amy.

“Of course,” I said.

“Well, I command you to stop smoking.” She put her hands on her hips.  Goddamn was she smoking hot!

“Okay, I’ll stop,” I said.

“It’s what I want, so I think you should stop.  Unless you’re not true to your word.”  She raised her eyebrows.

“If it’s what you want, then I have no choice,” I said, heart rate skyrocketing.

“No choice,” she smiled.  “I like that.”  I could see the gears were once again turning in her pretty head.  She was mustering up the courage to say something.  I waited patiently until she delivered the words I was hoping for.  “I actually don’t have class for three hours,” she said.  “I was meeting Professor McClure about my start-up.  So I was thinking, since I have some time and don’t feel like going all the way home, what say we head over to your place?  I want to take you up on your offer from the other day.”  She focused those teasing eyes on me before delivering the knockout blow – “I figure I could use a good laugh.”

I had all I could do to keep from coming in my pants on the spot!  The way she was so casual about the whole thing.  So confident.  So breezy!  She sat on the low concrete wall next to me and crossed her legs seductively.  She dangled her red high heel in front of me and raised those eyebrows.

She followed me to my little apartment.  I was shaking with excitement.  This was too much!  Once inside, she sat on the couch while I poured her a glass of water.  When I returned with the glass, she had opened my laptop computer, which was on the coffee table next to the couch and had turned it on.

“I want to see what kind of websites you visit,” she said, flashing a smile at me.  Then, noticing a sour look of concern on my face, she added, “Oh relax, James.  For our relationship to be – how should I put this – effective, you can’t be keeping any secrets from me.  Why don’t you take your clothes off while I check your Internet history,” she said, not taking her eyes off the screen.  “Mine stay ON,” she added, in case there was any doubt.

While I disrobed in my bedroom, I heard her voice in the other room.  “When you’re ready, come kneel in front of me, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Amy,” said hoarsely.

Amy stared bluntly at my crotch as I reentered the room in my birthday suit.  She made me turn around, so she could get a nice view.  She whistled condescendingly before saying.  “Gosh, you’re hairy, but overall not bad.  Let me get a good look at your penis.  Stick it out.”

I kneeled down and front of her as her eyes studied my prized organ.  She nodded her head as though it was confirming something she previously suspected.  I figured she might comment on my lack of size.  After all, I’m not the most well endowed.  I’d guess I’m five inches on my hardest day.

Instead she said, “Don’t you think you ought to get some tissue so you don’t make a mess on your carpet?”

“Yes Miss Amy.”  And I was off to the bathroom and back again in a matter of seconds.

When I returned, she resumed her visual examination of my groin.  Finally, she shuffled her little butt on my couch until she was satisfied with her positioning.  “Okay, you can play with it, but I don’t want you to cum yet.  If you cum without my permission, I’ll leave and we’ll never do this again.  Clear?”

Once I began stroking, Amy turned her eyes back to the history files on the Internet.  She had uncrossed her legs and now sat, perfectly poised, high heels together as she leaned forward and clicked the mouse pad with her slender fingers.  Occasionally she glanced at me and smiled while shaking her head in mock disapproval.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, she sat up, turned slightly toward me and used both hands to put her hair behind her shoulders.  “I have to say, James, and don’t take this the wrong way because you ARE a nice guy.  But you’re also a complete penis pumping jerkoff, aren’t you?”  She burst into laughter at her own joke.

“Yes Miss Amy.”

She pushed her hair back from her head again and focused in on me.  “The girls at school always try to predict who are the studs and who are the jerks.  You were the subject of much debate.  Me and Tina were totally right.  Lucy, Emily, and Michelle were wrong.  I can’t wait to tell them all!”

“Please don’t,” I said, panic suddenly enveloping me.

“Relax, James.”  She stood and smoothed her skirts.  “It’s our little secret.  But I want to make you suffer a bit.  Only because I can.  I feel like some frozen yogurt.  Stop masturbating, put your clothes back on, and let’s go.”

I held the door for Amy, and took the wheel.  On the way to the store, Amy laid down some groundwork for what was to become the nature of our relationship.  “You know, James.  I’m a busy girl.  Between school and my start-up, it’s hard for me to find time to shop for groceries, clean my condo and run errands.  I could really use a good gopher boy.”  There wasn’t the slightest bit of sarcasm in her voice.  She was dead serious.

I took a deep breath.  “I can totally be that person, Miss Amy.”

“Good.  I will appreciate the help.  Now you do realize everything will be 100% on my terms.  I will ignore you for weeks at a time.  Then I might need you for several days in a row.  Who knows, right?  You should never call me for any reason.  Ever.  Got it?”

“Yes Miss Amy.”

“Good.  I will call you when and if I need you.  You should be ready to do whatever I need you to on a moment’s notice.  Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.”  She pondered, clearly quite pleased with the arrangement she’d just dictated to me.  “How do your balls feel right now?”

“They are so sore, Miss Amy.”

She giggled.  “I think I like them that way.  Tell me, why are they so sore?”

I blushed, not sure what to say.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged me in a soothing, feminine voice that made my balls ache even more.  She put her hand on my thigh.  “I need to hear it.  Tell me why your balls are so sore, James.”

This was an important moment between us.  I struggled to get the words out.  “Because you’re so beautiful.  You are dressed so nicely.  You smell so nice.  Your body is so,” I paused.  “Incredible.”

Amy listened intently before responding.  “I really have you?  Don’t I?  Tell me, what part of my body makes your balls the sorest?”

I knew the answer, but was afraid of saying it for fear of making Amy uncomfortable.

She smiled, narrowing her eyes.  “Go ahead, James.  I want you to say it.  Don’t be shy.  Which of my female body parts makes your penis the hardest, and your balls the sorest?”  She squeezed my thigh and slid her pinkie down to the edge of my groin.

“Your vagina,” I mouthed, amazed at Amy’s confidence.  “Every part of your body is perfect, but your vagina is the center of your, uh, power.  But your feet also…those high heels.  I just want to worship them for you.”

Amy giggled again.  “Good to know.”  She sighed with pleasure.  “You’re like totally be in heaven, having a babe like me boss you around, huh?

“Yes Miss Amy.”

“Good.  Get used to it then.  Because I could really use the free help, and I’m more than willing to use you for my personal gain.  Are you okay with that?”

“Yes Miss Amy.”

“Just so you know, I won’t feel the least bit sorry for you when I make you do menial chores for me.  And I especially won’t be sorry about sexually humiliating you since you obviously enjoy being dominated by women so much.”  She laughed at the windshield in front of her and sighed contemplatively.

“This makes this an ideal relationship for the both of us then.  I get your total servitude and you get the pleasure of serving a higher power.”

The ice cream shop was excruciating.  Miss Amy ordered a small strawberry frozen yogurt.  Then she made me sit there across from her while she slurped down the frozen treat seductively, her little tongue darting out and sliding its way around the cone.  “Try not to cum in your pants please, James,” she said, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

She insisted we hold hands on the way back to the car (“you can pretend you’re really my stud muffin”).  Amy took her middle finger and massaged the inside of my palm with it, laughing the whole time.  My nuts had become so sore I had to squeeze my legs together on the ride home, a detail that did not escape the observant Amy.  “I don’t understand guys like you at all,” she said.  “All I have to do is be near you and look at you,” she laughed.

When we got back to my place, she decided to take pity on me.  “I don’t want you to think I’m a bitch,” she said.  “I think you’ll find me to be a perfectly fair master.”  She paused to let that word sink in.  “I think you deserve a reward for your obedience.  My class isn’t for another hour.  Let’s go back inside and give you some needed frustration relief.  How does that sound?”

“Great, Miss Amy!”

“I thought you’d like that, slave boy.”  Her patronizing look of superiority was priceless.  We both felt it.  We both knew it.

Back inside, Amy permitted me to take my clothing off again and kneel before her.  She was totally at ease with her new role as she slid one of her high heels beneath my open legs so that the tip of it was pressed just below my anus.  The front of her narrow ankle pressed up on my sore nuts and caused them to splay lewdly apart from one-another.  “Does that hurt?” she asked.

“No, Miss Amy.”

“How about this then.”  She took her foot back and gave me a decent kick in the nuts.” I grunted, and she smiled.  “That felt good.  I could use a few more of those, but maybe some other time, when you aren’t as obedient as today.”  She pulled her foot back and placed it next to her other foot.  “Tell me when you’re going to lose it, James.”

“I’m going to lose it, Miss Amy!” I said ten seconds later.

She laughed.  “Your face is turning all red.  I wish I had a mirror.  Shoot your mess in the tissue like I know you’ve been wanting to.”

I proceeded to do just that.  This particularly intense orgasm lasted almost a minute.  I came so hard I went momentarily cross-eyed.

“Wow,” she said.  “That was quite a tribute.”  Her smile lit up the room.

“Thank…you…miss…Amy,” I panted.

Before I could catch my breath, Amy put her hand on my shoulder.  “I think it’s time we test your loyalty, James.  Since you didn’t get to have any ice cream, I think it’s only fair that you get to eat a milkshake,” she waited for me to comprehend where she was coming from.

I didn’t really like the idea.  Amy was so perceptive that she could sense my reluctance.  “Oh, come now, James.  It’ll be good for you.  A special protein shake.  You DO want to please me, don’t you James?”  Amy did something absolutely incredible.  She pointed directly at her crotch, the small rise in her mini-skirt just below her belt.  “You DO want to please IT, don’t you?”  Her voice was not at all unkind.  It was firm, feminine and coaxing.

“Yes Miss Amy,” I was forced to admit as I felt the power of her words and actions, and weakness came over me.

“Good.  Hand me your protein shake.  I want to personally feed it to you.”

I did as I was instructed.

“I think this is a wonderful sign of my complete superiority, don’t you?  This way you get to do something disgusting that you don’t want to do, just to please me.  Now, open wide and stick out your tongue.

In case there was any doubt whatsoever of the situation I was in, Amy reached gently down between my legs with her free hand and gathered up my balls like a pair of grapes.  I felt the pressure increase until I felt a dull pain in my stomach.

“Now, lean forward a bit.  Show me how eager you are to please me!  That’s it!  Show me how much you want to eat your load, James. [Speaking directly in my ear]  Slurp it up.  And chew it on it a bit.  Open wide so I can see.  There we go.  Perfect.”

I gobbled up my snack like a starving boy from a third world country who hadn’t had nourishment in several days.  Amy didn’t let up.  “Make sure you eat every last squirt.  Perfect.”  She placed the toilet tissue down on the table, while continuing to grip my balls.  With the hand that had been holding the tissue she took my chin.  “I think sperm is probably quite healthy,” she said.  “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, Miss Amy.” I said.  The truth was I was in the middle of the most intense sexual experience of my life.  My mind wasn’t working.

“I think it has to be really healthy,” she said, clearly mocking me with her silly self-debate.  There’s got to be tons of protein and nutrients in all that semen I just made you eat.  You should really thank me.  I just fed you a well-balanced diet.  It’s probably better than the crap you usually eat.”  She laughed triumphantly in my face.

For the first time since our encounter, I saw a sign of Amy’s bitchy side, as she effectively closed the deal on our relationship.  With elation blended with dread, it hit me – in a matter of an afternoon, Amy had proven herself to be a divine, young dominant Woman.  “Thank you, Miss Amy,” I said.  Tears of joy formed in the corners of my eyes.

Amy pointed down to her vagina again, still nestled out of view.  “You need to thank it as well,” she said, elevating her voice.  “Say ‘Thanks Amy’s vagina!”

“Thanks Amy’s vagina!”

“It says you’re welcome!” Amy said.  She released my balls and stood, dusting her hands off after the completion of a job well done.  She checked her watch.  “Oh, looks like I’m late for class.”

A man walked through the door of the building. It was a filthy establishment. He looked to the stage and saw a young woman – sixteen or seventeen by the looks – being raped. She was fighting it, but it was obvious that the men would have their way regardless of how she felt.

The man approached the bar. He ordered a whisky and got it, in a glass so filthy he was almost afraid to drink it.

“What the hell,” he thought. “If this doesn’t kill me, the damn cirrhosis will.”

Looking at the stage, he waved to the bartender.

“I thought there were three sisters working here,” he said in heavily accented Thai.

“They are up next,” the bartender said. “In about five minutes from the look of it.”

The girl was choking. One of her rapists had shoved his dick too far down her throat and was having difficulty getting it back out. As the audience watched, she turned blue, went into convulsions, and died. To the man’s amazement, at least half of the audience was clapping politely. This definitely was a strange culture.

After the stage was cleaned up, three young women came out. According to the MC, they were sisters. They were Elizabeth (20 years old), Melinda (18 years old), and Amy (18 years old). Other than the man, they were the only white people in the Asian-filled building.

The oldest one waved at someone off-stage and a man came out leading a horse. After tying reins to a ring in the floor, the man left. Elizabeth immediately sunk to her knees and started sucking the horse’s dick. While she was doing that, Melinda opened a can of lard someone had handed her and started coating her right hand and forearm. Once the arm was completely covered, the 18-year-old started forcing her arm up her sister’s ass. The fact that it did not require too much effort (and the fact that Elizabeth never slowed down as she continued giving the horse a blowjob) indicated that this was not the first time the 20-year-old had had that done to her.

The youngest sister, Amy, started working her fist into Elizabeth’s pussy. none of the girls looked overly enthusiastic, but they were not fighting it either.

“They do this every night,” the man asked the bartender.

“Yes. Every night. They switch places though. Tonight it is the eldest fucking the horse. Last night it was the middle one.”

“Do you rent them out to customers?”

“Of course. How many of them and how long?”

“All three from whenever they are done on stage until tomorrow morning.”

“That will be $300 dollars American.”

“And if I kill them?”

“Then you kill them. It is the New Year tonight. There will be enough noise that no one will hear you. Normally, I would raise the price, but those three are so loose, that they cannot please a man anymore. I need to replace them anyway. Are you sure you want them?”

The man had already fished out $500 dollars.

“I want them. Can you end their show early?”

The bartender looked at the money in front of him.

“Certainly. Have a nice night, mister.”

“I will try. It looks like it will be a good one.”

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. The man opened it and the three young ladies walked in. He was using a room loaned to him by the bartender. The fact that it had a TV and VCR was great. Looking at the three girls, he motioned for them to remove their clothes. They did so. The man was stunned. They were as beautiful as their mother had been.

“Hello girls,” he said. “My name is Ed. Have a seat. We are going to watch a few short films and then have some fun.”

“Are you going to kill us, now,” Elizabeth asked.

Ed looked at the girl. She was beautiful, but the look in her eyes was all but dead. Considering the things that could happen in this room tonight, Ed realized that killing her was not the worst of them.

“Do you want me to kill you?”

“Not really,” Melinda replied, “but normally, when a show is cancelled early, the girl goes to meet a ‘guest’ and never returns.”

“Well,” Ed replied, “to answer your question, no. I have no plans to kill you. I was telling you the truth earlier. We are going to watch a few movies. Then, in about 90 minutes, we are going to have some fun. Well, ‘fun’ may not be the right word, but you will see.”

“Are they movies we really want to see,” Melinda asked.

“What do you mean?”

“They make movies here,” Amy said. “Movies where they kill girls. It happens when the girls have been here for a while and the men are not paying to rent them anymore. That is why Elizabeth asked if you were going to kill us. It will happen to us soon.”

Ed shuddered. They obviously knew about snuff films. They were expecting to be killed in the making of them. He was not so sure that showing the films was such a good idea, after all.

“Um,” he said, “I do not know if you recognize me, but I am……”

“Uncle Ed,” Amy said. “Dad’s boss from back in America.”

“That’s right,” he replied, surprised. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

“Never mind that,” Elizabeth said. “You wanted to show us some movies. What are they? Your reluctance to answer Melinda’s question tells me that they are not movies we would want to see, but you already knew that. Why are you here, Ed?”

Ed looked at Elizabeth. The dead look in her eyes was gone. There was a kind of fury smoldering there, now. She was very intelligent. She was able to see that he had a hidden agenda. She was also – perhaps most dangerously – very, very pissed.

He sighed and set the movies down. Walking to the door, he locked both deadbolts and put the bar on the door.

“That is a useless gesture,” Amy said with a harsh chuckle. “If they want in here, they will just come through the wall. The walls are paper-thin.”

“Whatever,” Ed said. “You are right, Elizabeth. They are not movies you want to see. They are movies of people being killed. I need you to see them so I can give you a better understanding of the situation.”

“I don’t know,” he continued, “if you will…..”

“Just shut up and start the movies.”

Ed shook his head in sorrow and started the first movie. If he expected shock or grief to move the girls when they saw their mother kill their eldest sister, he was disappointed. After the movie ended, he removed the tape and look at the girls.

“I am sor…..”

“Put in the next one,” Amy said, cutting him off.

The second was even worse than the first. Ed had hated this one most of all. The sick things the girl’s mother had been forced to do to her…. It made him ill just watching it. After a few moments, he ran to the bathroom and threw up noisily. The girls ignored him.

Seeing the look the girls gave him as the second movie ended, he just ejected the tape and put in the third movie. The girls watched in silence. If they were confused at the lack of sound in this one, they did not show it. When it was over, Ed pulled the tape and put all three movies back in his briefcase. Looking at his watch, he realized they still had 25 minutes before the excitement began.

“I am sorry you had to find out this way,” Ed said, “but your sisters and mother have been dead for eight years now.”

“We knew,” Amy said. “The men who brought us here were joking about it.”

“What,” Ed asked, astonishment clear in his tone. “You knew?”

“For eight years, now,” Melinda replied.

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said, her voice full of menace, “you should tell us how you came by those movies and how you found us.”

Ed was no fool. The girls were naked and there were no apparent weapons handy. This girl, however, could possibly kill him if she felt the urge. Looking at her, he sighed and nodded.

“I will tell you everything I can,” he said. “There is, however, a problem.”

Looking around, he found a pen and paper. Cautiously scanning the room for cameras, he found none. Elizabeth, understanding his concern grabbed the pen and paper.

“There are no cameras in here,” she wrote. “They have a studio somewhere in the city for the films, but there are too many thieves in this area.”

“In 20 minutes,” Ed wrote after a quick look at his watch, “there will be a loud commotion in the bar. There will be shooting and yelling. We will go out that window by the bathroom.”

The two younger sisters, trusting their older sister to tell them what they needed to know, realized it was too quiet in the room and started making love to each other. The noise would satisfy anyone listening in from outside the door. Melinda motioned to her sister and they moved closer to Ed and Elizabeth so Melinda could give him a blowjob. His grunts of pleasure only added to the noise.

Elizabeth smiled as she looked at her younger sisters. They were quick.

“It was too quiet in here,” Elizabeth wrote as Ed gave her an incredulous look.

“I see,” Ed wrote as he realized that the girls were right.

“Anyway,” Elizabeth scrawled, “we are on the second floor. We cannot get out that window.”

“We will,” Ed replied with a smile. “A friend of mine will be waiting with a cart right below the window. He works with a laundry service and the cart will be full of sheets. We will jump onto the pile of sheets and get away from here. You and your sister will hide under the pile.”

“And where are we going?”

“America.”

“How?”

“We will go from here to the airport and then we will fly to Los Angeles. I have a private jet standing by.”

Further discussion was interrupted as a riot became audible below. There were heavy footfalls outside the door as the guards ran to the bar to investigate. Ed quickly pulled up his pants and moved to the window.

With a sigh of relief, he saw his friend waiting below the window. Scanning the street and windows, he saw no one who would be able to report the incident. Waving to the girls, he jumped out the window and landed in the cart. He looked up to the window and, seeing the three girls there, waved again.

Ignoring their current state of undress, the girls followed Ed’s example and were soon buried under a pile of dirty sheets as they were carried to the airport.

—–

“Wow,” Amy said as she exited the shower. “I didn’t know that you could have a shower on an airplane.”

Amy was the last of the three sisters to enjoy the shower. When Ed said he had a private jet, he was not kidding. When they had arrived at the airport, they were rushed into the plane so quickly, it was doubtful anyone noticed that the white ‘dresses’ they wore were actually sheets.

Within five minutes of boarding the plane, they were airborne. Now, three hours later, they were on their way to Tokyo, where they would catch a flight on ANA (All Nippon Airways). The flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles would take a little under 10 hours.

“It is a new development,” Ed said with a smile. “Emirate Airlines introduced showers in their big A380s in 2008. In a smaller plane like this, it was relatively easy to get an engineering firm to build a shower into it. What was difficult was getting the necessary waivers to allow it.”

“Well,” Elizabeth said, “it has been years since we have been this clean. So, ‘Uncle Ed’, what now?”

Ed knew this was coming, but he still has not sure how to say it.

“Um, what do you remember of your last few days in America?”

“Well,” Melinda said, “our father had just died. Mom went to his funeral. While she was gone, Michelle was in charge. Then some guys from dad’s office came and picked us up to take us to your place. We were on our way to a mall, I think, when a white van hit the car we were in and we were……I don’t know. I blacked out and woke up on an airplane.”

“Same here,” Elizabeth agreed as Amy just nodded.

“Ok,” Ed said with a heavy sigh. “You know that it was your mother who killed Michelle and Elaine, right?”

“That was what was shown on the tapes,” Elizabeth said angrily.

“And you saw her killed on the last tape by a masked person.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied.

“She was doing it to save your lives. She thought I was going to adopt you.”

“Huh,” Amy asked, confused. “She killed Chelly and Lany to save us? I don’t get it.”

“The people who abducted you, your mother, and your sisters told your mother that your father had been stealing from the company. He had stolen quite a bit and now the company wanted the money back.”

“But dad is dead.”

“Right,” Ed said. “That is why they gave your mother a couple of options. They were going to kill her and sell the tape on the black market to raise the money. Killing a 30-something woman, however, would not sell for a lot. Having the 30-something woman kill her own daughter on tape……now that would sell.”

“That is fucking sick,” Elizabeth said disgustedly.

“I happen to agree,” Ed continued. “The options they gave your mother were to kill Elaine and Michelle and allow it to be filmed, or, refuse to cooperate and let the abductors kill all of you on film. Seeing that Michelle and Elaine were going to die either way, your mother chose the way that would save you three.”

“Damn,” muttered Elizabeth, her anger fading a bit.

Ed was almost surprised when he saw the tears begin. The girls had hardened themselves to the point where they could take practically anything, but their mother’s decision still hit them hard. Wanting to give the girls a few minutes to digest what he had said, he left to speak with the flight attendant.

“So,” Elizabeth said when Ed returned, “we were supposed to be adopted by you. What happened?”

“Well,” Ed said, “this is where the story gets bad. Before we go further, though, a few questions.”

“Ok,” Elizabeth said, her patience growing thin. “What are they?”

“What was your mother like?”

“Huh? Mom? Uh, she was like most moms. We had a maid that helped out, but mom did most of the cleaning and cooking. I know she was always there for school events.”

“Did she work outside of the home?”

“Hmmm. No. I kind of remember her having a fight with dad about it once. She wanted to go back to work, but he said her place was in the home raising us kids.”

“That sounds like the Amanda I knew.”

“So, spill it, Ed. What don’t we know?”

“Okay. Your mother and sisters were killed because of an affair your father had with another woman. He stole nothing from the company.”

“What,” Melinda asked. “An affair?”

“Yes. Your father wanted a son. He wanted a son more than anything. His wife, however only gave him daughters. After five daughters, she said ‘no more’. Five kids were enough for her.”

“That, however,” continued Ed, “did not stop your father’s desire for a son. While he was at work, he met a woman he found attractive. She was receptive of his advances and they soon were meeting after hours to have sex. To his delight, he got her pregnant and they discovered that it was going to be a boy.”

“But mom…..”

“That is right. Your mother. If your father wanted to have a legitimate son, he would have to marry the woman before the boy was born. He was thinking about divorcing your mother when he died.”

“The woman,” he continued, “convinced that your mother was to blame for his heart condition, arranged everything. She arranged to have your mother kidnapped and killed. She arranged the deaths of your sisters. Lastly, she arranged for you to spend the last eight years in that bar.”

“How did you find out about all this, Uncle Ed,” Amy asked. “How did you find us?”

“That,” he replied sadly, “was easy. I knew where you were for the last eight years. Not the precise bar, but I knew you were being forced to do those things somewhere in that city. I knew, you see, because the woman is my own daughter, Alanna, and I helped her.”

That was it. Elizabeth snapped and lunged for Ed. As fast as she was, however, she was seated while her younger sisters were still standing. The younger girls quickly grabbed their out-of-control big sister and pinned her down.

“Let him talk, Liz,” Amy said. “Let him talk.”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, OLD MAN,” screamed Elizabeth.

“Shut up, Liz,” Melinda said as she slapped her big sister’s face. “I am sure he has a reason for his actions. And he did get us out of that hellhole.”

“You better have a reason, Ed,” Melinda continued. “If you don’t, I will kill you myself; even if you did rescue us.”

Elizabeth, no longer hysterical, glared at Ed. She nodded at Melinda and Amy, letting them know it was safe to let her go. The younger girls released her and she sat up. Still glaring, she waited for him to go on.

“If you really want to kill me, Elizabeth, I will allow it. I have cirrhosis and it is starting to affect my kidneys. This can result in acute renal failure. Death, in other words. I know it will happen sooner or later. Right now, I am still able to care for myself and move around on my own. As the disease progresses, I may lose that. I would rather die than be an invalid.”

“But,” he continued, “I have more information for you that you will want. When we are done with our business together, then I will let you do what you want. And, for your information, I did have reason for my actions.”

“When your father was a boy, he was like a son to me. I knew your mother as a chid because her father was a partner in my law firm. Your mother did not know my daughter, but your father played with her a lot. When your father died, it was like my own boy had died.”

“If you knew our mother,” Melinda asked, “how could you help your daughter kill her like that?”

“I knew about the affair. Your father and my daughter often met at my place for their…….”

“We get it,” Amy said.

“Anyway,” Ed continued, “they both told me of how your mother was killing your father. She was refusing to go back to work. She was refusing to cook or clean around the house. She had a maid in 7 days a week and it was the maid that cared for you and everything.”

“They painted her out to be a user. And when your father had his first heart attack, it was described as a result of stress caused by your mother. By the time he had his fourth heart attack, the one that killed him, I was convinced your mother was as bad as they were saying.”

“So,” Melinda asked, “what made you change your mind?”

“About a year ago, I made a discovery. I met your maid at a local grocery store and I struck a conversation about your family. The poor woman was most informative. She told me several things, some of which you just confirmed. One of these things was that your mother was not staying at home by her own wishes.”

“When I discovered that your mother was not the person described by your father and my daughter, I did some more digging. Everything they had told me about your mother was a lie. I decided to confront my Alanna.”

“For several years, now, she has been living in Italy. She would come back occasionally to get money. I am the sole administrator on your father’s estate. I manage all finances and give out money, as needed, for the care of his child.”

“Well,” Ed continued, “Alanna and I had a fight shortly after your mother’s death. I had a guilty conscience and was very upset over the entire affair. Alanna decided she did not want to be near me anymore and moved to Italy.”

“She would never tell me where she lived. She would just show up from time to time and demand money. Despite how I feel about her, I love my grandson, your half-brother.”

“I, against my better judgment, gave her viewing priveledges on the estate bank accounts. I was hoping to rebuild out relationship. I hoped that she would see how hard I worked to provide for her son.”

“I had taken your father’s $2 million policy and invested it. In almost five years, it was close to $150 million. There are no checks and balances on it. I can pull any amount out and call it a management fee.”

“When I decided to confront Alanna, I needed to find her. I hired a detective to track her down and report back to me. The guy was great. It took only two weeks. I went to Italy and was about to go up to her house when I saw her come out. She had a man with her. They got in their car and left.”

“I could not believe my eyes. I waited for them to come back and, seven hours later, they did. I was much closer at that time and before they went into the house, I called out to them.”

Closing his eyes, the memories of that afternoon came crashing back.

—–

One year ago…

Ed stood outside the villa in Ancona. He could not believe his eyes. Alanna was walking to the door with a man Ed knew very well. He suddenly realized he had to say something.

“Hello, John,” Ed said as he approached the couple.

“DAD,” Alanna exclaimed, “what are you doing here?”

“Apparently,” Ed said, “I am looking at a man that has been dead for the last seven years. Care to explain how this is possible?”

Alanna and John looked at each other for a moment. They knew that this had to be handled delicately. With Ed as the only administrator for John’s estates, he was indispensable.

“Come on in, Ed,” John said. “I think we could all do with a drink.”

“I agree,” Ed said. “I know I could use one.”

They entered the villa and immediately were ambushed by a 6-year-old boy who was being chased by his nanny.

“Lucia,” Alanna said to the nanny, “could you take Johnny to his room and keep him occupied? John and I have business with this man and we would like it quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the maid responded as she took hold of the boy and retreated into the back of the villa.

“What can I get you to drink, dad?”

“Don’t worry about that, Alanna,” Ed said. “I think I just changed my mind about that drink. Tell me, John. How is this possible?”

“Well, Ed,” John said as he took a sip of his bourbon, “you know how they say everyone has a doppelganger out there? I found mine eight years ago. As luck would have it, he had similar health issues.”

“Let me see if I understand this,” Ed interrupted. “The body of the man in your casket in Midlawn Cemetery is that of the doppelganger?”

“Yes.”

“What about that business with Amanda and your daughters?”

“Ed,” John said plaintively, “you know I have always wanted a son. More than anything else in this world, I wanted a son. I loved Amanda, but she would not give me a son.”

“Not for lack of trying, John. She gave you five daughters.”

“Daughters, Ed. Daughters. I wanted a son. After Amy was born, she went ahead and had her tubes tied to prevent any more pregnancies. I couldn’t have that, Ed. I wanted a son. Alanna gave me one.”

“And so, with Alanna pregnant with your son, you just threw away your wife and daughters?”

“Well, divorce was out of the question. I had no real grounds for divorce and she would have taken half of everything. Then I remembered the life insurance policy. I arranged my ‘death’ and used the body of the doppelganger as my replacement.”

“But because the policy would go to Amanda, you had more work to do, right?”

“Right, dad,” Alanna said. “I convinced him that I knew how to get Amanda out of the picture.”

“It was brilliant,” John said. “I really didn’t love Amanda or her slut daughters at that point. The bitch denied me a son. That was the last straw. So when Alanna proposed her plan, I agreed.”

“You killed your daughters.”

“No,” John objected. “Technically, Amanda did. And as for the three younger ones, they are probably still alive. They would still be kind of young.”

“I think I am going to be sick,” Ed said as he got to his feet. “I should go to the police with this.”

“That would not be wise, dad. If you did that, you, me, and John would all go to jail. Who would care for Johnny?”

Ed was unable to think of a clean way out. Shaking with frustration, he began to cry.

“Easy, Ed,” John said comfortingly. “I know this is a shock. Just take it slow.”

“Yeah, dad,” Alanna agreed. “Go back to New York and take care of things there. I will call you in a few days.”

“But your daughters, John. What about them? Don’t you care where they are?”

“I know you feel bad, Ed,” John replied calmly. “Just remember. I wanted a son. I already told you that I didn’t love the little bitches. Why the hell would I care how they ended up?”

“Go back to New York, Ed. Keep managing my estate like you have been and no one needs to know that I am still alive.”

—–

“Uncle Ed,” Amy prodded. “You called out to them?”

“Oh,” Ed said, snapping back to the present, “right. I called out to them and they turned to see me. You may have already guessed, but it was your father with Alanna.”

Melinda and Elizabeth nodded, showing they had guessed. Amy was still having a little difficulty getting over her shock.

“Daddy? But he died.”

“Apparently not, Amy,” Melinda said.

“Hmmm,” Amy said, thoughtfully, “so he arranged for mom to kill Chelly and Lany. Then he let Alanna kill mom and send us to……”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, seeing that Amy could not continue. “So, Ed. You found out our father was still alive and they had duped you. Then what?”

“Well, they convinced me to not go to the police. I went back to New York and managed the estates. A month later, I was able to track down the men who transported you three to Thailand eight years ago. It was not easy to locate them. Unfortunately, they did not know which place bought you after he delivered you to the broker.”

“I spent another month searching the seedier bars in Bangkok and finally found you. Once I found you, I contacted some friends and arranged the escape. You know the rest. Here we are.”

“So,” Melinda asked, “what next?”

“Well,” Ed replied, “I am concerned about you three. You have all been through some serious trauma, both mental and physical. I know from the bartender back there, that you had been used by that horse. I would like you to see a surgeon and see if we can get some of that physical damage corrected.”

“Huh?”

“Well, the bartender mentioned that you were going to be replaced because you were not tight enough to satisfy the customers. That says, to me, that your bodies are damaged. I have the money to give you as much care as you would like. I know this is probably embarrassing, but you deserve better.”

Amy shook her head.

“It is not embarrassing, Uncle Ed,” Amy said. “I don’t know what it would take to embarrass me, but it is more than that. O do not know about Liz and Mel, but I will accept your offer. I know that I could use some ‘tightening’ down there.”

Melinda and Elizabeth were not as at ease about it, but they were nodding. Neither of them had any illusions. They were, for lack of better words, ‘damaged goods’. Surgery would help with that. Knowing that the money came from an estate that, technically, belonged to their father, made it even better.

“After that is done and you have recovered,” Ed continued, “I have a request to ask of you.”

“What is it,” Amy asked. “After getting us back home and taking care of us, I think I am willing to do practically anything for you.”

Ed spent a minute looking out the airplane window. Heaving a deep sigh, he looked back at the girls.

“I would like you three to kill Alanna.”

—–

“Okay,” Amy said with a smile.

“What,” Elizabeth asked, aghast. “Amy, wait a minute. Do you know what you are agreeing to? He just asked us to kill someone.”

“Yes,” Amy agreed, the smile still on her face, “he did. He asked us to kill the person who got mommy to kill Chelly and Lany; the person who, in fact, killed mommy and arranged to have us spend the last few years getting raped and fucking a horse in some filty bar.”

Amy’s smile was now gone. In its place was a look that scared her sisters. Amy’s calm acceptance of even the worst indignities forced on them had convinced the older two that Amy was almost retarded. Now, they saw that it was a defense mechanism. She had sort of slept through the horrors of the last few years, accepting it because there was no other choice.

Now, their youngest sister was awake. In her posture and expression, they saw none of the slow-witted acceptance to which they were accustomed. Elizabeth wondered if this was a good thing.

“Amy,” Elizabeth said, “I think…..”

“No, Liz,” Amy cut off. “We are done with that. The woman who stole our family is out there. Ed, our dear Uncle Ed, has rescued us and given us the means to reclaim our lives. In return he is asking us to avenge our dead mother and sisters. I, for one, think we should do it.”

“I did not,” Amy continued, “hear anything that leads me to believe that he is forcing us to do this, so, if you and Mel do not want to do it, have your surgery and move on with your lives. Me? I am going to do this. The one problem I have is that I have no real skills with which to pull it off.”

“I think I can help with that,” Ed said. “I have lots of friends. One was a navy seal and another was with the rangers. If you are willing to put in the time, they can train you to do this.”

Amy was all smiles. There was now a cheerfulness radiating from her that gave her sisters mixed feelings.

“I’m in,” Amy said. “About how long do you think it will take to train me?”

“Train us, you mean,” Melinda added with a sigh. “I cannot let you do this on your own, Amy. I’m in, too.”

“Fuck,” Elizabeth said with a sigh of her own. “Looks like the three stooges are reuniting. Count me in, too, Uncle Ed.”

“Excellent. Now remember, girls. Until you actually go to kill her, you can back out and I will not be disappointed in you at all. I have had a guilty conscience for these last eight years. I do not want you to go through that.”

“Not just her,” Amy said.

“Huh,” Ed asked.

“We are not just going to kill Alanna,” Amy clarified. “When we go to do it, I will kill daddy as well. He must pay as well. He is not blameless. He will die with her. Only their son will be spared. He, alone, is innocent.”

Elizabeth and Melinda were now scared. This was a side of Amy no one had ever seen. In the past, they had always been able to control her. Melinda was pretty sure, now, that Amy had let herself be controlled. They agreed with her thinking, but neither of them had ever seen her this determined.

“Yeah,” Melinda said. “Dad has to die as well. He is just as guilty as your daughter.”

“Okay,” Ed said hesitantly. “Who will care for John Jr?”

“Well,” Amy said, “if I have a clear understanding of the situation, he is almost 8 years old. You never did tell us how long it would take to train us, but I can wait. If we wait until he is in high school, say 15 years old, he will be more self-sufficient. As such, his caring half-sisters would likely be able to take care of him.”

Elizabeth was beginning to worry about her sister’s plan. Seven years? Amy wanted to wait 7 years to get her revenge?

“Wait a minute, Amy,” Elizabeth said. “You are talking about waiting 7 years. Just what kind of training are you planning on getting?”

“Mercenary training, Liz. I also want you two to learn martial arts. Think about it. If we went now, what fun could we have? You know nothing about torturing someone. You could accidentally kill them before we were satisfied.”

“When we go to kill them,” Amy continued, “I want to make them feel the pain mom, Chelly, and Lany felt. I want them to experience what we did. If I can manage it, I want daddy to be raped by a horse, just like you, me, and Mel.”

“Wow,” Melinda said, in awe of her little sister. “Amy. What happened to you?”

“What do you mean, Mel?”

“All the time we were in that bar, you just did as you were told. You never did anything without instructions. What happened?”

“We’re free, Mel. That is what happened. While we were there, I did what I had to to get by. You and Liz fought and got beaten. Do you remember that mother and her daughter that came to the bar seven years ago?”

“You mean the flight attendant and her daughter?”

“Yes. The daughter was told to fuck one of the patrons and she refused. Remember? The mother tried to intervene when they started beating the girl. What happened to the mother?”

“I remember,” Liz said. “They strung her up by her ankles and used a 2-man saw to cut her in half.”

“Right,” Amy said with a sad smile. “I learned that night that it was not worth fighting. You and Mel got beaten by the other girls if you showed initiative. You got beaten by the men if you did not service them. My way kept me from receiving any beatings. I tried to tell you before.”

“I remember,” Mel said, realizing that Amy was right.

“I still had to do all the sex things you two did, but I was not in too much physical pain over it.”

“I see,” Melinda replied. “And now that we are free, you don’t need to be all meek and mild. Is that it?”

“Partly,” Amy replied. “Another part, the biggest part, is the fact that I want revenge on the people that put us there. Until that is done, I cannot move on with my life. The problem is that, right now, I am in no condition to exact my revenge.”

Ed, listening to the girls’ conversation, had to agree with Amy’s logic. They were not ready to do anything about John and Alanna. He was not sure that Elizabeth and Melinda could wait the amount of time Amy wanted, but that was another question.

“Ok, girls,” he said. “We are almost to Tokyo. We will have a three-hour layover there. I am going to make some calls. One will be to a surgeon I know in Beverly Hills that can give you three the surgery you want. The others will be to those friends of mine that I mentioned. When we get you healed up, we will decide what to do.”

With that, the conversation ended. The girls sat in silence for the rest of the trip, each contemplating their own future.

—–

Four days later……

Elizabeth and Melinda were alone in the hotel room. They had been in the hotel room for two days and Amy had been about to go stir crazy. Ed agreed to go with her so they went to get some food rather than call down for room service…..again. This was the first time the older sisters had been able to talk privately since Ed rescued them.

“Melinda,” Elizabeth said to her sister, “what do you think about Amy, now?”

Melinda had to think about that. Their younger sister had certainly changed since their escape. There was a hard edge to her that neither sister had ever seen. Melinda thought she was hiding something.

“I don’t know,” Melinda replied. “I get the feeling that she is hiding something. Seeing how she has changed, I wonder how long she has been hiding it.”

“I know. I keep thinking back to that conversation on the plane. Didn’t you notice something odd when we were talking? When she was talking about killing Alanna and Dad?”

“Um, not really. I was pretty much in shock. I mean, I had never seen her act that way.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said patiently, “but I am talking about when she was talking about the training. She said she wanted us – you and me – to get martial arts training. She said we knew nothing about torturing people. Again, she was referring to you and me. What do you think about that?”

“Huh? Are you sure? She could have been talking about all three of us.”

“No. Her exact words were ‘I also want you two to learn martial arts….you know nothing about torturing someone….you could accidentally kill them before we were satisfied.’ Does that sound like she was including herself?”

“Hmmm. Now that you mention it, I think I do remember that. And you are right. It does not sound like she was including herself.”

“Which leads me to believe,” Elizabeth continued, “that you are right. She is hiding something. The question that concerns me now is this: do we really want to open Pandora’s Box and find out what it is she is hiding?”

“Maybe we should talk to Ed. See if he knows anything. She has stuck to his side like glue since we got on that plane in Bangkok. The only time she is away from him is when either of them are going to the bathroom or taking a shower.”

“No. I think we should ask her straight out when they get back. It may be nothing. We might be imagining the whole thing. You know how paranoid we got back there.”

“You’re right,” Melinda replied. “It might be nothing. Okay. We will ask her when they get back.”

“When we get back,” Amy asked as she and Ed entered the room. “You were talking about a ‘her’ so that leads me to believe you meant me. What do you want to ask me?”

Melinda blushed as she realized that she and Elizabeth no longer had a choice. Over the last 4 days, they had seen a side of Amy they had never encountered. She was sharp; frightfully sharp. She would know if they tried to lie to her. Melinda did not understand it, but Amy seemed to have a built-in lie detector.

“Well, Amy,” Melinda said, realizing that now was as good as any time to broach the subject, “we were wondering about something you said on the plane. You said that we needed to learn martial arts and we knew nothing about torturing someone. You weren’t including yourself, were you?”

“No,” Amy said with a sigh. “I wasn’t.”

“You know martial arts,” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Where did you learn that?”

“Not just martial arts,” Amy replied. “I have been trained to fight bare-handed, with knives, with swords, and with handguns. You may not remember, but for the first four years we were in Thailand, I never saw you. I was too young for them to put on stage so they trained me in other ways.”

“Why,” Ed asked, intrigued.

“To protect the girls. There was fierce rivalry among the seedier bars there. One bar would often steal girls from another bar. With two few guards to fight off the more serious attempts, they wanted me – and a few other girls trained like me – to wait for an opening and then strike. Once we killed those who took us, we were to return the other girls to the bar.”

“They believed you would do that?”

“They did,” Amy said. “And to be honest, I would have. The girls at our bar were, if not treated well, treated better than any of the other bars in the area. Had the girls been found on the street with no one to look after them, they would have been fair game to anyone strong enough to hold them still. Deaths and physical damage were less frequent at our bar.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. The owners didn’t do it for love of the girls. The girls were just merchandise. The point was to take care of the merchandise. It is expensive to replace the girls. New girls have to be broken and retrained. That takes time and a girl being broken and retrained brings no money into the bar while costing the bar in meals and room.”

“No,” Amy continued. “They wanted us alive and well so we could draw money. That girl that died the night you rescued us? She shouldn’t have. There was no one to replace her. The bartender will get punished for that…..not to mention the men who killed her.”

“They would punish the bartender and the patrons? How?”

“The bartender would be killed and the patrons that killed the girl would be castrated. If someone really offended the owner, an example was made.”

“What kind of example?”

“One guy received a sex-change operation against his will. He was then sent to another of the owner’s bars and broken. Last I heard, he was servicing customers like the rest of the girls.”

“Wait a minute,” Elizabeth said. “I never heard anything about that. How do you know all this?”

“Like I said,” Amy replied. “I was trained to protect the girls. I was one of the few to carry out tortures and executions on those that abused the other girls. I was there when the guy got his sex-change operation.”

“It’s SRS,” Melinda said.

“What?”

“It is not called a sex-change operation, anymore,” Melinda answered with a smile. “The political correctness brigade now call it SRS, which stands for sex reassignment surgery.”

“Who gives a fuck,” Elizabeth demanded, exasperated. “You were killing people over there, Amy?”

“Yes.”

“How could you?”

“They told me that if I didn’t, they would kill you two. The choice was easy. And these men were scum. In the plane, I mentioned the mother who was cut in half because she tried to stop the customers from beating her daughter. The men who did that were the first men I killed.”

“It was a year after the incident. Apparently the men realized that they crossed the line and fled before the owner caught them. Well, eventually, they were caught. I had been training on the use of throwing knives and my trainer had me use these men as targets. By that time, I was good. When I was finished, there were 12 to 15 knives in each of the four men.”

Elizabeth was shocked. It was like hearing someone talk about someone else. There was no remorse. That, Elizabeth thought, was the worst part. There was no remorse at all for the killings Amy had performed.

“How many,” Elizabeth asked.

“Ehh?”

“How many men have you killed?”

“Ahhh. I have killed 247 men.”

“And women,” Ed asked. “I know that women there can be brutal as well.”

“True,” Amy said, “but we didn’t kill the women. They were sent to a different bar and one of that bar’s girls was brought to our bar. They couldn’t put someone who had killed one of our girls in with the rest of the girls. The offender wouldn’t last one night.”

“So, why do you want your sisters to get training?”

“I know that, alone, I could get in there and do the job, but I want to share this with them. To do that, they need to be able to protect themselves in case things don’t go as planned. I can wait while they get the training. I will go through it as well to add to the training I have already had.”

The older sisters could say no more. They knew they would need time to process all that their sister had said.

“Anyway,” Amy added, “that is for later. First on my agenda is to get my body fixed up. I know I am probably being narcissistic, but I want my pussy repaired, if possible. Then after recovering from that, I will look at whatever training your friends can offer.”

Ed looked at the older girls and smiled at the nods they gave him. He understood. Elizabeth was the oldest, but she was still only 20 years old. Their bodies had been seriously abused and if there was any way to correct any of that, he wanted to help them get it corrected.

—–

Four years later…..

Phillip Amsted looked around at all the casings and began to pick them up. The girls had used a lot of ammunition, but they were making some real progress. They still had a long way before they caught up with their younger sister, but, then again, so did everyone else Phillip knew.

Amy was something beyond his understanding. She was only 21 but handled knives, guns, and practically any weapon better than anyone he knew. She had even taught him a few things, though he hated to admit it.

She could, for example, hit a man-sized target at almost 200 meters without a scope. With a scope, her maximum range was close to 2000 meters. She had impeccable timing as well. She had shown him a trick he was dying to show Ed. Ed was one of the best sharpshooters Phillip had ever known, even if the old guy rarely went shooting these days.

“Alright, girls,” he said to Melinda and Elizabeth, “help me pick up this brass and then we will get back to the barracks.”

The girls cheerfully agreed. They had done well today and they knew it. It was, however, a hot and sticky day and a shower back at the barracks was just what they wanted.

The barracks were just that: barracks. A decommissioned military base in South America had been purchased by Ed and his friends for just this kind of training. They (the friends and the girls) could do whatever they wanted without fear of ‘authorities’. They had had some difficulty when they first arrived but after Amy was set loose on the squatters, there had been no more trouble.

Amy was not with the older girls. They were not happy, but they knew that Amy had more than extra previous training going for her. She had talent.

It did not matter what these men showed Amy. Within minutes, she was able to do it. After a couple of weeks, she was able to perform at the same level of expertise shown by their trainers. After a couple of months, the trainers were struggling to keep up with her.

Frankly, if Amy hadn’t been so sweet about the whole thing, the older girls would have been jealous. They still were, a bit, but Amy never rubbed it in their faces. She never bragged or even talked about her training. If the trainers didn’t talk where Melinda and Elizabeth could hear them, the older girls would never know anything about their sister’s training.

Amy never shirked her duties. From the minute they got there, she was helping out in any way she could. She never waited for anyone to ask her for something. She was always offering assistance.

As far as the older girls could tell, Amy’s behavior had two major side effects. First, Amy was the first person to be trusted with complicated, dangerous tasks. The men respected her. Second, her extra activities had a major benefit of making her supremely physically fit.

Amy, though she still had her petite form, was stronger than most of the men in the area. She could now run 30 miles without stopping. Melinda and Elizabeth pooped out after 10.

The older girls knew that they were never going to be as good as Amy was with these kinds of activities. Their satisfaction, however, came from the fact that, despite their inability to keep up with Amy, they were surpassing their trainers in many areas.

The one area, they still had difficulty with was marksmanship. Guns were still a problem. They were good, but they wanted to be better. That was why they pushed Phillip to bring them out to the range every day.

“Damn, girls,” Phillip said, startling Melinda from her thoughts as they finished picking up the casings and started back to the barracks, “I don’t know how much more I can teach you. You have come a long way in only 3 months.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said, “but we still aren’t as good as Amy.”

Phillip lost his smile and came to a halt.

“Listen,” he said as he turned to the girl. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but it will be very difficult, if not impossible to become as good as her with a gun. I have never, and I mean NEVER, seen anyone as good as she is.”

“It is good to want to be like her,” he continued as they resumed their jog back to the barracks, “but do not beat yourself up because you aren’t. You two are still better than 90% of the people on this base. When I said there wasn’t much more I could teach you, it was because you are as good as I am.”

“But it is not just guns with Amy. It is everything. She is like a one-woman army.”

“I know what you mean,” Phillip said with a chuckle. “To be honest, some of the trainers are afraid of her. They think that if they piss her off, she could kill them.”

“I don’t think she could do somethi…..”

“She could,” Phillip said, cutting Elizabeth off mid-sentence. “She never shows it, but there is a darkness in her. There is a purpose driving her and I pity anyone who gets in her way.”

Melinda and Elizabeth just looked at each other. They knew the motivation behind Amy’s actions. They couldn’t, however, tell anyone. Ed had been very specific on that point. There was no point in putting anyone else at risk.

As they crested the hill and looked down into the area surrounding the barracks, Phillip realized he might get his wish. Ed was here. Amy should be able to show him her trick.

“C’mon, girls,” he said with a smile. “It looks like your ‘Uncle’ is here. Let’s double-time it.”

Picking up the pace, they ran the last mile to the camp.

—–

“So,” Ed said to Mike Mitchell, the lead trainer and facilitator of this camp, “you think the girls are ready?”

“Ready,” Mike asked. “I do not know about that. You four have been as tight-lipped as anyone I have ever met when it comes to why they needed the training. what I do know is that there is nothing more we can teach them.”

“The older ones, Elizabeth and Melinda, could stand toe-to-toe with any special forces soldier in America. They have superior ability with guns and knives. They are proficient in three….no four schools of martial arts and as far as strategic planning is concerned, they are better tacticians than anyone else I know. Well, with one exception.”

“And what about Amy,” Ed asked.

“She is the exception. For the last year, she has been training us, not the other way around.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Afraid not, Ed,” Mike said. “That girl is kind of scary.”

“You are not the first to feel that, Mike.”

“Are you sure you cannot tell me what is going on? I am genuinely worried about Amy. She has something driving her and whatever it is, if there is someone in her way, they will suffer dearly.”

“I am sorry, Mike. That is their secret. I cannot say more.”

“No problem, Ed,” Mike replied with a smile. “I am just their trainer. You pay well and don’t place any restrictions on how we do our job.”

“I thought you were here,” Phillip huffed and puffed as he entered the room.

“Hi, Phil,” Ed replied with a smile. “You look all out. What’s wrong?”

“I just ran a mile with a 50-pound pack on my back. That’s what’s wrong. And let me tell you something. If either of you tell those girls I was this bad off, I will kill you.”

“Trying to show off for the girls, Phil,” Mike asked with a grin on his face. “That’s just sad. Remember. You are twenty years older than they are.”

“Fuck. I know that, but they weren’t even sweating hard.”

“See what I mean, Ed,” Mike asked, turning back to his employer. “They may not be ready, but they have had everything we can give them.”

“Oh, by the way,” Phillip interrupted, “is Amy back yet, Mike? I have something I want her to show you.”

“Yeah. She, Brent, Tony, and Rick all got back three hours ago. I think she was going to take a shower and a nap.”

“Great. I will be right back.”

Phillip ran to the barracks and gasped – just as he always did – when he saw Amy in the barracks. The girl never wore clothes indoors. Outside, she was never without gear that would help her hide in her surroundings. He shouldn’t have been surprised. The girl had no modesty.

She was beautiful. She had beautiful 32-C breasts and hair down to her ass. She may be only 5′2″, but she had a figure most women would kill for. Her physical activities, though rigorous, had not distorted her form, making her look like a female bodybuilder.

“Amy,” Phillip whispered into the sleeping girl’s ear. “It is time to ge…..”

Further discussion was lost as Phillip staggered back from a vicious blow that dislocated his nose.

“Oh, Phillip,” exclaimed Amy as she jumped up from bed and rushed to help him. “I am sorry. Oh, it looks like I broke your nose. Just a sec….”

Without giving him a chance to object, she placed her hands on either side of his nose and with a quick jerk, set it right. Phillip blanked out for a second as the pain overwhelmed him. While he was taking a second to recover, Amy got dressed. She knew he would never disturb her rest if she wasn’t needed for something.

“What can I do for you,” she asked, seeing that he was coming around again.

“Ugh. Yeah. Your ‘Uncle’ Ed is here. I was wondering if you could show him and Mike that trick you showed me the other day.”

“Trick?”

“Yeah. The coin trick.”

“Well, it is not really a trick, Phillip, but I could show them if you like.”

“Excellent. Then get…..oh. You are dressed. Then come with me.”

“Um. Ok.”

The two headed back and, after a minute, arrived at HQ.

“I see you woke her up,” Mike said. “Dislocated your nose, did she? And here I thought you had learned after the last time.”

“Shut up. Just come outside with us. You gotta see this.”

The three men and Amy went outside. Phillip gave Amy his gun and turned to Mike.

“Mike, you got a quarter?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Let me see it,” Phillip demanded, holding out his hand.

“Ok,” Mike said agreeably as he handed the quarter over.

“Call it, Ed. Heads or tails.”

“Um….heads.”

Without pausing, Phillip flipped the coin high into the air, watching as it flipped.

BANG!!

“WHAT THE FUCK,” exclaimed Mike as he jumped from the noise.

“Just this,” Phillip replied as he picked up the coin. “Take a look.”

“There is a hole in it,” Ed replied, stating the obvious.

“No kidding. But look. You can tell by the indent around the hole that the bullet struck the ‘heads’ side.”

“Dumb luck,” Mike said. “Yes, it is impressive that she can shoot a hole through a spinning coin, but hitting the called side? That has to be luck.”

“Try it again, then,” Phillip goaded.

“Okay,” Mike replied as he pulled another quarter from his pocket. “Tails this time.”

He flipped the coin high into the air and, realizing what was to come, quickly covered his ears.

BANG!!

“Damn,” Mike said as he picked up the coin. “Tails this time. Could still be luck, but why don’t you think so?”

“Yesterday, Amy and I went through a roll of quarters repeating this trick. 40 quarters. She hit the right side every time.”

“What does that mean,” Ed asked.

“Ed,” Mike said, “it means that her timing is perfect. Her eyes are right on as well. If she can see the flipping coin and time it so the bullet hits the right side as it is turning over and over, well, I have never seen anything like it.”

“Phil,” Mike said, “I think we are done here, for now. I have had reports from all the other guys and Melinda and Elizabeth are as good as we can make them. You agree with that?”

“I do.”

“Good. Then go tell the girls to pack up their gear. They will be leaving with Ed the day after tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, Mike,” Phillip answered as he left.

“That goes for you, two, little lady,” Mike said as he turned to Amy.

He paused for a moment as he looked at her. She was looking to the east, not saying anything. She was motionless, but both Mike and Ed could feel the tension pouring from inside her.

“Hey, Amy,” Ed said gently, getting her attention, “go pack your things. We will be leaving soon.”

“You bet, Uncle Ed,” she said as she jumped up and gave him a big hug.

She suddenly looked down and, noticing the gun still in her hand, gave the gun to Mike.

“Can you give that back to Phillip? Thanks. Oh. And please tell him I am sorry about his nose.”

She then turned and ran for the barracks. After watching her disappear, the two men went back inside to have a beer.

—–

Los Angeles, CA – two weeks later…..

Ed paced the room. Since getting back from the training camp, the apartment had been a scene of constant tension. Ed had suspected it before, but now he knew that Amy was calling the shots. There were moments when she was a sweet girl, just like when she hugged him at the camp, but they were few and far between. They also rarely lasted more than a few minutes.

The two older girls seemed content to let their little sister lead. It was no wonder, really. She was the smartest and strongest of the three. They all wanted revenge on their father and Alanna for the murder of their mother and older sisters, but only Amy seemed to have any ideas on how to accomplish it.

This was not the reason Ed was pacing. The reason for his pacing was that Amy had disappeared. Since arriving in Los Angeles almost two weeks before, the three girls had been content to allow Ed to take them anywhere they needed to go. They had all been together since arriving in the city.

This, however, must have been irritating Amy. When Ed, Elizabeth, and Melinda awoke this morning, they found a note from Amy on the table. She had been having difficulty thinking with everyone all around her, so she went for a walk to clear her head. There had been no mention of when she would be back.

It was now 14 hours later, 9:00pm. Ed was worried sick that something had happened. The girls still had no cell phones so there was no way to get in touch with her until she came back. Ed was torn between worrying about her well-being and the well-being of anyone who pissed her off. She had shown that she had a temper. The scary thing was that she was never out of control. Even when supremely pissed off, she was always in full control of her actions.

“Ed,” Melinda said, “you’re pacing again. Come and sit down. Worrying about her is not going to get her to come back any sooner. She’ll come back when she has found the solution to her problem.”

“Problem? What problem?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither of us do,” Elizabeth added. “Amy just does this. When something is bothering her, rather than talk about it, she goes……what do the Australians call it, Mel?”

“Walkabout”

“Yeah. She goes walkabout.”

“And how long is she usually gone?”

“It varies,” Melinda said. “Sometimes it is hours, sometimes it is days. In the camp, she had Mike all worried once because she was gone for three weeks.”

“Three weeks? Jesus! What did she eat?”

“Whatever she could. Berries, nuts, bugs, whatever animal she could kill and cook. Hell, she shocked the camp when she came back because she was carrying this jaguar. It was a full-grown male that weighed around 220 pounds.”

“I remember that,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “It scared the hell out of Mike when he was taking the ropes off it and it snapped at him.”

“Yeah, and Amy just grabs Jim’s gun and puts three bullets in the animal’s head.”

“Why didn’t she kill it before,” Ed asked.

“I didn’t know how long it would take me to get back to camp,” Amy said as she entered the room. “I didn’t want the meat getting gamy. I had carried that damn oversized cat for six days. It was a great workout. The only annoying part was that I would have to set it down and brain it every six hours or so to keep it unconscious.”

“Amy,” Ed asked as he sunk into a chair, relief washing over him, “where have you been?”

“I needed to clear my head so I took a walk.”

“THAT WAS ALMOST 15 HOURS AGO,” Ed shouted, his anger rising.

“I am sorry, Uncle Ed,” Amy said contritely. “I just had this thought that had been bugging me for a few days and whenever I thought I had it, it would get lost.  I just needed time to figure this out.”

“And did you?”

“Yep. It was a question I have been meaning to ask you.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Do you still have the tapes your daughter made twelve years ago?”

“Yes,” Ed said with a frown. “I am sorry, but I have not destroyed them, yet.”

“Actually, that is a good thing. I need to see the one with your daughter killing mom.”

“What,” asked Melinda. “Why?”

“I understand if you two do not want to see it again,” Amy said to Melinda and Elizabeth, “but I need to ask Ed about something in it. It will only take a few minutes, so if you want to wait in the other room, go ahead.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t know what it is you are curious about, but I can deal with it.”

“Me too,” Melinda said.

Ed, looking at the girls, sighed. He hated letting them see their mother’s pain. The poor woman had been stripped of all dignity and had been brutally tortured before death claimed her. As far as Ed could see, there was nothing worth watching that. One look at Amy’s face, however, was enough to tell him that she would not let this go.

Sighing again, he got up and went to his room and got the tape from the safe. Returning to the living room, he put the tape in the player and turned on the TV. At least, he thought, there is no sound on this one. The movie had only played for a few minutes, however, when Amy asked him to pause it.

“I thought I remembered this,” Amy said triumphantly. “Uncle Ed, how many women are on the screen?”

“Three,” Ed said thoughtfully as he looked at the screen. “Somehow, I had forgotten this.”

“Who is the woman helping your daughter?”

Ed was shook. Amy had seen the video only once……four years ago in that bar in Bangkok. She had never forgotten the details. Looking at the figure of the second torturer, he knew who it was from the size of the woman.

“Her name is Rita Caldwell. She was my daughter’s best friend. They kind of drifted apart after this occurred. I do know that Alanna sends Rita $10,000 a month as a kind of thanks for the help Rita gave back then.”

“Where does this Rita live?”

“I do not know.”

“Can you find her?”

“I can. You want her killed?”

“Um……no. Not yet, anyway. I just want to know where she is. She has information I want.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“The identity of everyone who was there that day,” Amy answered. “When they take mom to the kitchen, Rita and your daughter are in the picture, but the picture moves. This means the camera is held by someone. I want to know who held it. They are as guilty as Rita and Alanna.”

“How many people are you planning on killing?”

“So far? Only three; Rita, Alanna, and daddy. If I can find the cameraperson, I may hire him or her to run the technical side of filming our fun.”

“And this fun…..what do you have planned?”

“Before I tell you, Uncle Ed, I have another question. Do you want to be there?”

“”I do not know, Amy,” Ed said. “I really do not know.”

“Ok,” Amy said. “I was planning on you watching little Johnny while we do the dirty work. I was pretty sure you would not want to be there. As for the rest, it is quite simple.”

“We will take Rita first. We will not kill her for a while. We will keep her so Alanna can watch her friend die. You mentioned that daddy and Alanna always go to an island in the Caribbean around the end of November each year, right?”

“Yes. The last week of November.”

“And how big is this island?”

“It is a decent size. About half of one square mile.”

“Ok. That is about two months from now. I want Rita found. We will take her in the second week of June and then go to the island. You will stay here. After we take Rita, I will call you and you will remove your daughter’s ‘viewing privileges’ from the bank account. If she is checking it on a regular basis, it will not be long before she calls you to get an explanation.”

“You will go down there to talk to them about some investments you have planned. While you are there, you will try to get Alanna to allow you to spend an afternoon with your grandson. You two will go out on their boat. You did say they had a boat, right?”

“Yes. They have a yacht and a little fishing boat. The fishing boat is moored at the island year-round in the boathouse.”

“You can drive it,” Amy asked.

“I can.”

“Can you sail the yacht?”

“Yes. I did a lot of sailing when I was younger.”

“Even better. Then tell Alanna you want to go fishing with Johnny. She may be hesitant, but do whatever you can to convince her. Once you and Johnny are away, Mel, Liz, and I will strike. We will enter the house and use tranquilizer darts to put Alanna and daddy out. We will move them to a new location and I will call you, using Alanna’s phone.”

“You will,” Amy continued, “return to the island, saying that an emergency had come up and daddy and Alanna had to return to Italy. A helicopter from the mainland had picked them up and they took a plane home. They asked you to sail the yacht home as it would give you more time with Johnny.”

“Will I see John or Alanna again?”

“That,” Amy replied, “is up to you. If you want to watch her die, we can work something out with Johnny.”

“Uh, no,” Ed said. “I do not know if I could handle watching her die in front of me.”

“If you would like, we can film it for you.”

“You weren’t planning on filming it?”

“No,” Amy answered. “This is a one-time thing. For revenge. I will not need to watch it later.”

“Ok. I can find a film crew for you,” Ed said.

“Were you the one who found the film crew for Alanna?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that they are all dead?”

“WHAT?!?”

Amy smiled. It was good to know that she was right. Ed may have been involved in the beginning, but when he turned his back on the whole affair, he didn’t look back.

“Everyone associated with the event died over eleven years ago. There was a big investigation. Apparently, this guy named Chris Sorenson was arrested for drug trafficking. while he was in jail waiting for the trial, the police obtained a warrant and searched his home. They found a huge stash of cocaine, some child porn, and a couple of realistic-looking snuff films.”

“They found some notes about a job he had done 9 months earlier – editting a snuff project where a mother and her two daughters were killed on film – and an address book with the contact numbers of some of the people listed in the notes. Before they could ask Chris about it, though, he was found dead in his cell. The coroner’s report listed poison as the cause of death.”

“Running a check on the names in Chris’ address book, they found that several had been in the area at the time of the job and also had lengthy police records. They question all but two of the people. The two they could not question were dead. They had been killed within 36 hours of Chris Sorenson’s death. As a side note, one of the people killed was a famous chef that had been accused of cannibalism (never proven) and as a result lost her job in a restaurant in France.”

“The people they questioned knew of a job involving a mother and two daughters, but had no details. After polygraphs and lengthy questioning, the police assumed that either the job never took place or the people involved with it were dead.”

“I am only guessing, but your daughter probably knew about Sorenson’s drug habits. She might have had an informant on the police force and arranged Chris’ death after the arrest. She knew that after a drug arrest, a search warrant was likely and killed the other two people that were there that day. She probably spared Rita due to their friendship.”

Ed was stunned. He knew nothing about any of this. He would not, however, put it beyond Alanna to be that ruthless.

“It is possible,” he acquiesced. “How did you find out about all this?”

“I found a corrupt cop that had been involved with the investigation and fucked his brains out in return for information. He snuck the report out of storage for me and let me read it. That is part of why I am so late.”

“And the other part?”

“Well, on the way back to the hotel, I was attacked by some guys. I guess they thought that because I am so small, I would be an easy rape victim. They were wrong.”

“What happened?”

“They will live, but they may be in the hospital for a while. There were three guys. Two of them may need prosthetic legs. None of them will be able to father children. I made sure I burst their testicles before I called 911.”

“Anyway,” Amy said with a smile, “how long will it take you to track down Rita? I really want to talk to her.”

“Are you going to kill her too?”

“Yes. But depending on how helpful she is, I may be quick about it. My main targets are daddy and Alanna. They will be begging me to kill them before I am done. Rita, if she is helpful, will die quickly.”

“I will have her address by morning.”

“Excellent. After my fun tonight, I do not think it would be wise to stay very long. Those guys I mangled will be able to describe me and I do not want to have to deal with the police.”

“Agreed,” Ed said as he turned to make the first of many phone calls.

—–

Reno, NV – Six Weeks Later

Rita Caldwell was unhappy. The monthly check from Alanna was a week late. Having become dependent on the monthly income over the last 12 years, Rita was having to call her creditors and let them know that their money would be there, but it would be a few days late. She had been a good customer over the last several years so she doubted that there would be a problem. The only problem she had was the embarrassment.

She pondered this as she walked from the post office on her way home. She lived in a nice apartment, but she did not trust her neighbors. Because of this, she never had mail delivered to her apartment. While it was a small inconvenience to walk the two miles to the post office 6 days a week, she could use the exercise. She often stopped by during her morning jog. For the last week, however, the foul weather had prevented her from taking her morning run. Instead, she would use the treadmill in the community gym and walk to the post office in the afternoon.

It was a cold night and the snow was beginning to fall as she approached her front door. She went into her freezing apartment and immediately turned up the thermostat. It would soon be warm. She decided to take a warm shower. By the time she was done, the heat would be up.

She walked through her dark apartment stripping off her clothes as she went. Walking through the bedroom, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Sighing contentedly, she stepped under the spray of the warm water. She quickly scrubbed herself clean and spent the next 5 minutes soaking under the heavy spray, letting the warm water relax her muscles. Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower and cursed. She had forgotten to put the towels away last night and, as a result, there were no towels in the bathroom.

Walking into the bedroom, she turned on the light and froze. There was someone sitting in a chair in the corner of the bedroom. Rita would have screamed but the gun the person held in her gloved hand, along with a clear indication that the she wanted Rita to be quiet, convinced Rita that screaming would be unwise. Instead, she stood there numbly as the woman rose from the chair, picked up a towel from the pile beside the chair, and tossed it to Rita.

“Wrap yourself in that,” the woman said, “and sit on the bed, Rita.”

“D-d-do I know you,” Rita asked with a stutter as the woman sat back down.

“Not yet,” the woman said, motioning at the towel with the gun. “Let me introduce myself. I am Amy.”

Rita picked up the towel, wrapped it around herself and sat down.

“How did you get in here?”

“I have many talents, Rita. Some, you may find interesting. Others, you would never want to see. One of my favorite talents is the ability to know when someone is lying to me. You will not lie to me. Right, Rita?”

“Huh?”

“I picked your lock and let myself in four hours ago. I have been sitting here waiting for you. I was expecting you to notice me when you got home, but I guess your shower took precedence. You have a lovely body, by the way. Now, answer my question. Are you going to lie to me?”

Rita was confused. This woman caught her completely off balance. She seemed pleasant; despite the gun.

“No,” Rita said. “I will not lie to you.”

“Excellent,” Amy said delightedly. “Now, I want you to tell me my name.”

“Huh?”

“You must like that word. Anyway, I feel that knowing the person you are talking to helps to calm you down. I must admit that you look quite perturbed. Well, to be honest, if I found an armed woman in my home, I would probably be perturbed, as well. But, I want you relaxed. I have some questions that need answers and I would like you to cooperate willingly. Now, to begin, tell me my name.”

“Amy,” Rita said. “You said your name is Amy.”

“Very good. Most people, when surprised, find it very hard to concentrate. I like that you were able to remember my name. But you still seem tense. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

Rita knew what she would like. That gun was making her very nervous. It hinted at a world of bad things that could happen to her.

“Could you put the gun down?”

“I think I have a better solution,” Amy said with a smile.

Flipping the gun around so it was pointed at herself, Amy held the gun out to Rita.

“Why don’t you hold the gun? I know that were I in your position, I would be more relaxed if I held the weapon.”

Rita numbly took the gun. As the young woman sat down again, Rita kept looking from the woman in the chair to the gun in her own hand. Amazed at the stupidity of the young woman, Rita raised the gun and, pointing it at the young woman, pulled the trigger.

CLICK

“Oh,” Amy said. “I forgot to mention. That gun is not loaded. If you wanted to attack me with it, you would be better off using it as a club or throwing the damn thing at me.”

“Then why give it to me?”

“To give you the illusion of control. Like I said earlier, I am a woman of many talents. I do not need a gun to get you to cooperate.”

“And what if I told you that I have a gun?”

“For someone who was fixated on the damn thing, you really didn’t look at it, did you? That is your gun.”

Looking at the gun, Rita hissed in disgust as she realized the woman was not lying. It really was her gun. In an act of frustrated desperation, she threw the gun at the woman’s head as hard as she could.

“Predictable,” Amy said as she caught the gun and set it on the table. “Rita, this is entertaining as hell, but we are not getting anywhere. Sit your ass down and let’s talk.”

“Talk about what,” Rita asked grudgingly as she sat on the bed.

“Two people. John McInish and his wife, Alanna.”

“Alanna and John? Why do you want to talk about them?”

“Because my name is Amy McInish.”

It took a second for the name to sink in, but when it did, Rita knew she was in trouble. This girl was supposed to be whoring herself in Bangkok. That, or she should have been dead.

As her mind whirled and tried to process this information, Rita saw the young woman rise and walk toward her. Scrambling to back away, Rita slid off the bed. Falling backwards, she hit her head on the nightstand and knocked herself unconscious.

“Fuck,” Amy said. “Well, I was going to need to get her out of here anyway. Might as well be now.”

Amy dressed Rita in dark clothing and put her in the chair. Rita showed no signs of waking soon. Amy picked up the phone, carefully removed the bug, and dialed the number to a pay phone down the street.

“Hello? Yeah. Change of plans. Have the van out front of the building in three minutes. Yeah. We will go now. Ok. See you in a few.”

Amy replaced the bug in the phone and hung up. Taking a minute to search Rita’s purse, Amy found the unconscious woman’s address book. Flipping through it, she found entries for Rita’s mother, sister, and nieces. Smiling, Amy put the address book in her pocket and, picking Rita up out of the chair, left the apartment.

—–

“Wakey wakey,” a vaguely familiar voice said as cold water splashed Rita in the face, shocking her to full alertness.

The first thing Rita noticed was the chair. She was bound to it and found movement nearly impossible. The bindings were tight, but not terribly uncomfortable. Looking closer, she saw that whoever had bound her had taken precautions geared at preventing the bindings from cutting off circulation.

The second thing she noticed was that she was stark naked. The room was cool but not cold. Whoever had taken her was making an effort to keep her relatively comfortable, if immobile. In fact, the only uncomfortable part of this, so far, were the floodlights shining in her face. She could tell there were other people in the room, but the bright lights made it impossible to identify them.

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice said as the floodlights went out. “Were those making it hard for you to see? Don’t worry. With them out, your eyesight will return to normal in a minute and then we will make the introductions.”

Rita’s eyes adjusted to the light and she finally recognized the speaker as Amy, the woman who had broke into her apartment.

“How did I get here? Why am I naked? Why am I bound to this chair?”

“Whoa, Rita,” Amy said with a chuckle. “One at a time. I brought you here. Your attempt to flee from me resulted in you knocking yourself out when you fell and hit your head on the nightstand. We were not finished with our discussion about Alanna and my father so I decided to advance the timetable. I was going to bring you here anyway, but you did me the favor of being unconscious while I transported you. No fighting that way.”

“You are naked because you soiled yourself during transport and I am currently washing your clothes. Do you have a habit of pissing yourself in your sleep?”

“No, but then again, I do not have a habit of being abducted.:

“Fair enough,” Amy said with another chuckle, one echoed by the other two occupants of the room. “Keep your head about you and this may go well for you. As well as possible, that is. To answer the last question, you were bound to that chair because the floor here is concrete and we did not want you lying on a cold hard floor.”

“Now that you are awake, I can remove the bindings. Before I do, however, I want you to promise that you will not attack me or do anything else equally stupid once you are released. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Rita said with a nod.

Amy just stood there, tapping her foot. After a moment, Rita understood.

“Oh! I promise I will not attack you or do anything else.”

“Excellent,” Amy said as she moved to free Rita.

It took only moments, but during the process, Rita was sorely tempted to break her promise. Amy was in a position where Rita could have easily gotten the upper hand. As Amy finished and backed away, Rita cursed herself for not risking it.

“I am glad you kept your promise. Regardless of how it seemed, I was never vulnerable. Had you attempted something, I would have had to hurt you……badly. Neither of us wants that.”

“But…..you kidnapped me.”

“I did,” Amy admitted. “But I really would rather have your cooperation. The best way to do that, I think, is to let you know that I will not hurt you more than is absolutely necessary.”

“My cooperation?”

“Yes. In your apartment, I told you my name. What is it?”

“Amy.”

“And my last name?”

“Oh, god. You said your last name is McInish.”

“Correct. Now I told you I wanted to talk about Alanna and John McInish, right? Can you guess why I would come to you about this?”

Rita could guess. She was not really wanting to say it on the off chance that Amy did not know about Rita’s part in her mother’s death.

“Um, no. I have no idea.”

Amy shook her head and walked toward the older woman. In a move that Rita could not follow, Amy backhanded the woman hard enough to knock her out of the chair and halfway across the room.

“Geez, Amy,” one of the other women said. “Don’t break her jaw.”

“It’s not broken. Bruised maybe, but not broken.”

“Fuck,” Rita muttered. “What was that for?”

“While we were in your apartment, you said you would not lie to me. You just lied. Lying is one of the only things that really pisses me off. You know why I came to you. Hey, Mel, turn on that TV.”

The woman named Mel turned on a TV that Rita had not noticed. To Rita’s horror, she recognized the scene from the snuff film she had helped make 12 years earlier. She took her time getting back to the chair, trying to think of a way out of this.

“That,” Amy said, “is you – Rita Caldwell – and Alanna – then called Alanna McAllister – killing my mother. I have researched this video and I have the others made the same day, where you two made my mother kill my two older sisters.”

“Alanna did it. I only helped a little. I swear.”

“I know. That is why I am offering you this chance. I want your help in getting close to Alanna. I can do it on my own, but with you, it would be a little easier.”

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“Oh, yes,” Amy said with a smile. “I am going to kill you. The choice before you is not one where your actions will determine if you live or die. In this situation, your actions will determine how you die.”

“What are my options?”

“If you help me, I end it quick for you with a bullet in your brain. If you do not help me, I do to you what you did to my mother. I even have some new tricks to add to your performance. In other words, I can make it quick and relatively painless, or I can make you beg for death.”

“I will help you,” Rita quickly said, remembering the pain Amanda went through 12 years before.

“Smart woman,” Amy said. “Now, remember what I said about lying. If you hesitate or change your mind later, that will do what?”

“Really piss you off?”

“Right. That lie you told earlier was a small lie compared to lying in this. Punishment for lying this time would be extreme.”

“Lisa McDonald,” Amy said, reading from a small book she took from her pocket. “Danielle McDonald. Tabitha McDonald. Erika Winchell. Emily Horton.”

“What,” Rita asked, shocked that Amy had the names of her mother, her two sisters, and her two nieces. How do you know those names?”

“While you were passed out in the apartment, I stole your address book. After a little investigation, I discovered your family members. Should you try to back out of helping me, you will die the way my mother died, but not before you watch me destroy your family the same way. And they will know that you are the reason for their suffering.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Amy,” the woman named Mel said. “What is this?”

Neither Melinda, nor Elizabeth, knew how far Amy was willing to go with this. They hoped she wasn’t serious, but the changes in Amy left them wondering. This could get real bad, real quick.

“I would,” Amy said with a face that scared everyone in the room. “And I will if you give me reason to. If you cooperate, however, your body will be found with only a bullet hole in your head. No other signs of torture will be present, because that is the trade-off. You help me, and I will make it easier than you deserve.”

“What do I need to do?”

“When I brought you here,” Amy said, “we eluded the watchers Alanna has covering you. When we get you back, they will be wondering where you went. I am going to have Ed drop you off at home.”

“Watchers? Ed?”

“You know what happened to Chris Sorenson 11 years ago?”

“He was arrested on a drug charge and died in the county jail.”

“True, but there were suspicions raised about that. Two of his friends were also found dead within 36 hours of Sorenson’s death. You know what happened when you made that film. I know Sorenson helped you make it. I am guessing there were other people in the kitchen who did not make an appearance on film. My guess is those are the individuals found murdered. Abigail Mincer and Mary Healey were their names.”

Rita flinched as she recognized the names.

“Thank you for confirming it for me. It seems that Alanna did not trust anyone associated with those films. Chris died because Alanna had contacts in the police force. Because Chris kept a journal about his film projects – a journal that named Abigail and Mary – those women had to go, as well.”

“Then why didn’t she kill me?”

“Because you were friends? Because you were on tape with her? Maybe because she knew that you might be useful again in the future. You certainly would never speak about all this as you would be implicated as well. Whatever the reason, it is only enough to keep you alive. She still has you watched most of the time.”

“What does Ed have to do with all of this?”

“You know Ed,” Amy asked.

“Yes. He is Alanna’s father.”

“I think it is time to introduce the others,” Amy said, seemingly changing topics. “The one leaning against the door is my oldest remaining sister, Elizabeth…..”

“Hi,” Elizabeth said.

“……and the one helping with the TV is my other sister Melinda.”

“Hello,” Melinda said with a wave.

“Four years ago, Ed rescued us from some shithole in Bangkok. He felt bad about what his daughter did to us, but he recently found out something that made him actually do something about it. He found out that our father did not die 12 years ago, as he had suspected.”

“He found out about the doppelganger,” Rita said, knowingly.

“Only after he went to Italy and saw Alanna and my father living together. Anyway, after discovering that he helped kill three innocent people, he wanted to kill himself. Instead, he tracked us down in Bangkok and helped us escape.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, you have not received your monthly check, right?”

“How do you know?”

“We had Ed move the funds to a different account. Right now, Alanna is probably furious that her money is not there. You have not received your check because she cannot write checks. What you will do, is go back to your apartment with Ed. You will pack your things. I want it to look like you and Ed are going to take the money and run.”

“She’ll kill me.”

“No. She will not risk losing valuable banking information by killing the only two people who have it. She will not trust a lackey to get the information from Ed. They will capture Ed and take him to her. If you are with him, they will take you too.”

“I have reliable information telling me that Alanna and John are on their island in the Caribbean right about now. When you get down there, Ed will put off telling Alanna anything. He will make a deal to tell her everything after he and Johnny go fishing. They will take a small fishing boat.”

“Alanna will keep you close, believing there is something between the two of you, and try to get the information from you. You are my distraction. While she is busy with you, and the guards are busy with Ed, we will make our way onto the island, take out the guards, and enter the house.”

“Once we have Alanna and John under our control, we will finish with you, as painlessly as possible. If I have any reason to believe you have betrayed us, we will leave. We will then plot to recapture you, and make you watch your family members die in agony. Are we clear?”

“If I do this, you promise it will be only me who pays for what I did?”

“I promise,” Amy said. “Trust me. I do not like resorting to this bullying, but I have to see this through and anyone who stands in my way will regret it. I only hope that, in your next life, you are not so easily led by bad people. Now, let’s go.”

A moment later a woman entered with Rita’s clothes. They were warm and clean. Rita gratefully put them on. Following Amy, they left the room.

—–

An Island in the Caribbean (Near the British Virgin Islands) – 4 days later

Rita sat at a table looking out the window at the Atlantic. It was absolutely gorgeous. Looking to the west, she could see Dog Island. It was about three miles away. To the south, about 8 miles away, was the island of Anguilla and Long Bay Village. she and Ed had passed through there on their way to Alanna’s island home.

Amy had been dead on. Ed and Rita had been picked up almost as soon as they returned to Rita’s apartment. The men who drove them to the airport and flew with them to Anguilla island said nothing to their charges. Ed and Rita had only each other to converse with.

Ed also sat at the table, thinking about the situation. He knew the girls had been on Anguilla island before he and Rita had arrived. The girls had left for the airport immediately after Ed and Rita left for the apartment. By Ed’s estimation, they had arrived almost a day earlier. He knew they planned to rent a boat from someone in West End Village under the pretense of fishing off of Dog Island to the northwest.

Upon arriving at the island an hour before, Ed and Rita were shown to the patio, given drinks, and were told that Alanna would be with them shortly. Now that they were here, neither Ed, nor Rita were inclined to talk about anything. They simply sat looking out at the water.

“It’s beautiful,” Alanna said as she came out onto the patio, “isn’t it, dad?”

“It is,” Ed agreed, not looking at his daughter.

“Alanna,” Rita asked as she motioned to the island off to the west, “what is that island over there?”

“It is called Dog Island. There are no settlements, but it has frequent visitors as the fishing is very good over there.”

“I think I would like to try that,” Ed said with a smile.

“I think you would like it, too. John and Johnny certainly do.”

Alanna set a pitcher of orange juice on the table and sat down. She poured herself a drink and sat in silence for a minute.

“So,” John said as he came out onto the patio, “here we all are. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Sure is, honey,” Alanna said with a smile.

“Anyway,” John said, “shall we get down to business?”

“Sure,” Rita said, “what business?”

“You don’t know,” Alanna asked, looking from her friend to her father and back. “I thought you two were seeing each other.”

“Only casually, Alanna,” Ed said.

“Then, I am sorry, Rita. I thought you knew. You did not receive your check and had not called me yet so I thought you were in on it, as well.”

“In on what?”

“The money is gone,” Alanna said. “Dad moved it. That is why you have not received your $10,000.”

“So, Ed,” John said, “where is it?”

“Safe.”

“Why did you move it, dad?”

“Well, I have not got much longer and I wanted to see my grandson. This seemed to be the best way to get an invitation. God knows that you have come up with one excuse or other every other time I have asked. Is Johnny here with you?”

“What do you mean when you say you haven’t got much longer?”

“I am dying. Cirrhosis. The doctor says 3-6 months. I was really hoping to spend some time with Johnny.”

“Don’t worry, Ed,” John said. “Johnny is here. He spent the night on Anguilla with a friend. They should be back in about an hour.”

“So,” Alanna said, “will you tell us where the money is?”

“This afternoon. I would like to go out with Johnny over to that island – Dog Island you called it? – and do some fishing.”

“He would like that. He loves fishing there.”

“Good,” Ed said. “Then when we get back, you can cook the fish we catch and after Johnny goes to bed, I will give you both the new banking information.”

John and Alanna looked at each other for a moment. Neither of them saw the harm in letting the dying man see his grandson. John was sure that, after verifying the information, he could kill his father-in-law. He would be doing the old fuck a favor, actually. Cirrhosis was a nasty way to die.

“Sure thing, Ed,” John said. “I am sure Johnny would like that.”

The four ate breakfast and, an hour later, Johnny came home. Johnny recognized his grandfather from some pictures Johnny had seen. The strange woman was an unknown; probably a friend of his grandfather’s.

“Good morning, Johnny,” Alanna said. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, mom. It looks like I missed something.”

“Heh. Yeah. Your grandfather came down for a visit. He was hoping you would want to go fishing over at Dog Island.”

“Really? Great! I can use my new pole, right?”

“Sure,” John said with a smile. “It is yours, after all.”

“Did you want to come along, Rita,” Ed asked, trusting Amy’s intuition.

“Oh, dad,” Alanna said, proving Amy right, “I haven’t seen Rita for so long. Let her stay here so we ladies can catch up.”

“Yeah, Ed,” Rita said with a smile. “I am not crazy about fishing, anyway. You know that.”

“How about you, John?”

“Sorry, Ed. I have a ton of work to do. Maybe next time.”

“Working on your vacation? Sucks to be you.”

“Well, you know the saying, Ed. ‘No rest for the wicked.’ It’s the story of my life.”

The adults finished eating and Ed and Johnny left to go fishing. John, Alanna, and Rita watched as the two got in the motorboat and took off to the west.

“Ed loves fishing,” Rita said. “He is going to enjoy the hell out of this.”

“Rita,” Alanna said, “what the hell is going on? Are you fucking my father?”

“What? No. As Ed said, it is only casual.”

“And do you know anything about the money?”

“Only what he just told us.”

“Ok. Go sit in the living room. I am going to get us some coffee and will join you in a moment.”

“Not on the patio?”

“No. It is going to get hot out there real soon. I would rather not roast.”

Rita sat on the leather couch in the living room. It was a nicely decorated room. There was a suit of oriental armor standing in one corner of the room. There was a 52″ LCD TV. There was even a huge aquarium filled with exotic fish.

Sitting down on the couch, Rita wondered what was happening outside. Like Ed, she knew the girls were likely already in the area. On the drive back to the apartment five nights ago, Ed told her about the girls. All three of them were dangerous, but Amy was the leader. She repeatedly offered a chance for her sisters to leave, understanding that this was a risky proposition. Rita could tell that Amy frightened Ed. That girl was something terrifying when angered.

Alanna and John came into the living room with three cups of coffee. Sitting down, Alanna handed a cup to Rita as John took his and sat in a recliner. Rita was nervous about drinking the coffee, but she could not let Alanna know how scared she was. Smiling, Rita took a sip. It was good.

“This island is beautiful,” Rita said. “How big is it?”

“It is about half of a square mile,” Alanna said. “Not too big and not too small. This house was already here when we bought the island 7 years ago, but we practically had to tear it down and rebuild it. Right, John?”

“Yeah. And then the very next year, we came back to find all of the windows broken and the door off of it’s hinges.”

“What did you do?”

“We hired a private security service,” Alanna said. “They have an office in a building we put up on the other end of the island. They make sweeps every twenty minutes. There are four men on at all times. That way, if anything comes up, they can deal with it.”

“Is four enough?”

“Oh, yes,” John answered. “It is normally very quiet out here. That is why we bought it as a summer home. It gives us three months each year of peace and quiet. But mostly, they are unnecessary. They are more of a deterrent for young kids who want a place to party.”

“Anyway, Rita,” Alanna said, “how have you been doing? When did you start meeting my fath……”

John turned to his wife as she suddenly went silent. She was clutching her chest. Sticking from her left breast was a dart. Seeing it had to come from the direction of the kitchen, he turned in that direction just in time to see a young woman holding a dart gun. Before he could respond, he was hit in the groin with one of the darts. His bathrobe did little to protect his manhood as he was hit. To his astonishment, the substance in the dart was quick-acting and he had no time to save himself as he fell to the floor.

“That was quick,” Rita said to Amy.

“Actually, I meant to be here 30 minutes ago, but the rotation of the guards slowed me up. I had to be careful so I wouldn’t alert the others.”

“Are they dead?”

“No. They were hit with a cocktail that will keep them under for about eight hours. From the notes in the guard building, they operate on 12-hour shifts. The next crew is not due for 10 hours. This lot will be up and trying to figure out what happened before their replacements arrive.”

“Did they see you?”

“Really,” Amy said, surprised, “do you think I would really let them be able to identify me? No.”

“Where are the others?”

“Securing a boat. We will be leaving in twenty minutes. I would like you to help me tie these two up. The serum I gave them will keep them limp and unable to move for an hour, but I want to make sure they are completely secured before the others get here.”

“Ok.”

As Rita moved to tie Alanna, Rita saw her former friend’s eyes move.

“Wait a minute,” Rita said. “Are they awake?”

“Yes. The serum incapacitates them without knocking them out. They can hear and see everything. They just cannot do anything about it.”

Rita nodded and continued to secure Alanna. If looks could have killed, Rita would have been dead. The hatred showing in Alanna’s eyes was intense. Rita wanted to apologize, but knew that Amy had forbidden talking about this to the two hostages. A minute later, Rita stood. Alanna, even if she could have moved, would not be able to do anything to help herself.

Looking over, she saw that Amy had finished with John. As she watched, Amy used one hand to pick her father off of the floor and drop him in the recliner. The strength was astonishing. Looking in John’s eyes, Rita saw he could not believe it, either. Amy walked over and picked Alanna up the same way and dropped her on the couch.

“It’s time, Rita. You have been helpful and I will keep my promise. Are you ready?”

Rita took a deep breath. This was it. Amy was going to kill her. Looking at Alanna and John, she knew her death was going to be easy. Letting her breath out slowly, she nodded once.

There was no time to wonder about it. In a flash, Amy pulled a gun from behind her back and put three bullets into Rita’s head. Alanna watched in wide-eyed terror as her former friend fell to the floor, her eyes already glazed over in death.

Amy walked into the kitchen, stripping off the thin rubber gloves she was wearing, she put on the latex gloves she brought with her. These gloves were more suited to the task of dismembering Rita. Amy got a meat cleaver and went back to the living room. Ignoring the dead woman’s clothes, Amy went to work.

First, she removed Rita’s arms and then the legs. She dropped these limbs in the laps of her two captives, letting them deal with the thoughts that arose from what they saw. At one point, Alanna closed her eyes. Amy, seeing this, put down the cleaver and walked over to her father’s wife.

“No,” Amy said vehemently as she delivered a stunning back hand to Alanna’s face, smearing blood on the older woman’s cheek. “You will watch this!”

Alanna, stunned by the blow opened her eyes and did not try to avoid the scene again. Ten minutes later, Rita was destroyed. Her chest had been carved open by the cleaver. Her heart was pulled free and placed on the table in front of the couch. The dead woman’s lungs sat on the mantle over the fireplace.

Listening carefully, Amy heard her sisters coming. She quickly got up and administered a shot that put the two captives to sleep within seconds. After placing hoods over their heads, she went to greet her sisters in the kitchen.

“Are you re….”

Melinda’s question was cut off as she saw her younger sister’s clothes.

“What the fuck, Amy? Is this a fucking abattoir?”

“It was for Rita. I did keep my promise, though. She was already dead before I started chopping her up.”

“But why did you chop her up,” Elizabeth asked.

“It was fun. After chopping off a limb, I would put the severed limb in dad’s lap or in Alanna’s lap. They were terrified. It was great. You may not want to go in there though. It is a mess.”

“Is it anything worse than what we saw on those tapes?”

“Hmmm. You have a point. It is not worse. You got the boat ready?”

“Yes. It is fueled and ready to go.”

“And you brought the bag I asked for?”

“Got it right here.”

“Good,” Amy said. “I am going to go take a shower. Don’t worry about those two in there. They will be asleep for about 24 hours.”

Amy went into the living room and stopped.

“Hey. Can one of you bring my bag up to the bathroom? And bring a trash bag, please?”

“Sure.”

Amy was very careful. When showering, she kept her socks on so there would be no real footprings on the bathroom floor. She used a cloth to turn on the water and made sure she touched nothing that would give up prints.

Getting out of the shower, she dried off and used her wet towel to pick up her bloody clothes. Putting them in the trash bag Elizabeth held, Amy walked into the hallway and onto the carpet before stripping her wet socks off and stepping into the sandals her sister brought. Amy wanted to leave no skin or anything that could be used for DNA identification.

Elizabeth was sure that the precautions were unnecessary, but would not argue with Amy. Amy was running this show and if she wanted to be careful, she would be careful. Nothing Elizabeth or Melinda said would change that.

Clean and dry, the soiled clothes safely stashed in a trash bag, they headed down to the living room. Amy used another towel to move Rita’s limbs from the two sleeping captives. She then cut the clothes from the captives and put the clothes in another trash bag.

“It would have been easier to move them if they could walk, Amy,” Melinda said.

“It is easy, now,” Amy said as she picked her father up and slung him over her shoulder.

Amy did the same with Alanna and headed to the kitchen.

“Coming, ladies,” Amy asked.

“Uh, yes,” Elizabeth said in awe.

The two older sisters followed Amy. They knew their father weighed more than 200 pounds and Alanna must have weighed more than 130 pounds. Amy, though, showed no problem carrying them to the dock near the patio. Once aboard the yacht, Amy took the sleeping couple down to the bedroom and tied them together. If the couple woke before reaching their destination, they would find themselves unable to move.

All three girls were trained on sailing a yacht and could have done so blindfolded…..as long as someone told them when they were about to hit something. Elizabeth started the motor and piloted the yacht out to the open sea.

Amy, using her father’s cell phone, sent a text message to the disposable cell phone Ed had, sending the message that an emergency had arisen and John and Alanna were returning to Italy. Once the message was sent, Amy tossed the cell phone over the side into the deep water. The phone would sink and stop working. It was highly unlikely anyone would find it.

—–

Dog Island

Ed was really enjoying his time with Johnny. They had been fishing for about three hours before the cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out and looking at it, he saw the message.

“Hey, Johnny.”

“Yeah, Grandpa?”

“I got some bad news. It seems an emergency has come up and your mom and dad had to go back to Italy.”

“Again?”

“Huh?”

“This happened two years ago, too.”

Ed could not believe his luck. The kid was not going to question the story.

“I’m sorry,” Ed said. “Anyway, your dad wants me to take you back to the airport and fly home from here. They have already left on the yacht.”

“That figures,” Johnny said. “Are you going to stay with me at home? It will take them four or five days to get home sailing the yacht if I know them. I really do not want another babysitter. And I can show you the fishing near Ancona.”

“I think they would be okay with that. And I have the time. Sure, why not?”

“Great!”

“In the meantime, though, I think we should head on over to Anguilla and the airport.”

“What about my clothes?”

“Your parents thought about that. They packet your suitcases and left them on the dock. We will pick them up on our way to Anguilla.”

“Oh. Ok.”

Ed and Johnny put away their fishing gear and started walking back to the boat.

—–

John was the first to wake. He felt horrible. He was starving. There was pain in his wrists and, to his surprise, he found himself handcuffed to a chair. Moving to get a better look around, he found that his ankles were cuffed to the legs of the chair. Looking down, he saw the chair was bolted to the floor. After struggling vainly for a minute, he realized he was going nowhere.

A groan caught his attention and, looking to the left, he saw Alanna in the same situation. Suddenly, everything came back. Some woman had killed Rita. Right in front of John and Alanna. Then Rita was dismembered and butchered. Whoever had them did not mean good things to happen to John and Alanna.

John was a thinker. An idea man. Seeing as Rita was Alanna’s friend, maybe they were just after her. Maybe John could buy his way out of this. They would not know that Ed had moved the money. John would promise outrageous money for his release and when they took him out of here, he would try to escape. It was too bad for Alanna, but John was beginning to get bored with her, anyway. She had fulfilled her purpose. She had given him a son. John did not need her anymore.

Another groan and some movement told John that Alanna was waking up. Looking over at the woman, he saw her looking at him in shock.

“John,” Alanna said, “where are we?”

John, to his chagrin, had no idea. Looking around, he saw they were in a concrete room with a large mirror. Looking up, he saw two sturdy-looking hooks in the ceiling. To the right of the mirror, there was a steel door.

“I have no idea,” John replied.

“This seems vaguely familiar, but I just cannot seem to place it.”

“That is because there is not much in here to trigger your memory,” Amy said as she entered the room. “The last time you were here, that mirror was a regular window.”

“I am sorry,” Rita said as she looked at Amy. “Do I know you?”

“Wow,” Amy said with a smile. “I cannot believe my lack of manners. But I will beg your pardon for not identifying myself yet. Before I do, I should let you know why you are here. I will be right back.”

Amy left and returned a minute later, wheeling in a cart upon which sat a TV/VCR combo set. After plugging in the TV, she inserted a tape and turned on the TV. She left the room and returned a moment later with a chair and a TV remote. Placing her chair between the two captives’ chairs, she started the movie.

A noise distracted Amy and she looked out into the hallway. After a moment, she stood up and headed for the door.

“I am sorry, folks, but I have some business to attend to. I have seen this before and it will take about 90 minutes. I will be back at that time. Enjoy.”

Leaving the room, Amy entered the booth. Looking at the seated couple, she enjoyed seeing the horror appear on their faces.

“Ninety minutes,” Melinda asked.

“Yeah,” Amy replied. I put all three films on that one tape. They will be able to watch all three. Hell, they enjoyed making them. I just thought they should be able to see them one last time.”

“How are we going to do this,” Elizabeth asked.

“That depends on how much you two want to participate. I am capable of doing this on my own, but you two were hurt more by their actions. I feel you two should have the option of venting your anger and grief on these people.”

Elizabeth and Melinda went into a corner of the booth to discuss their options as Amy watched the couple in the cell. Neither John nor Alanna could not look away for more than a few moments. From the look on their faces, Amy could tell they knew they were in the room shown on the video. Amy thought it was fitting. She looked up as Melinda and Elizabeth came back.

“Amy,” Elizabeth began, “we appreciate everything you have done to bring this about. Without you, we would not be here faced with this question.”

“Fuck the question,” Amy said with a smile. “What is the answer?”

“I can’t kill them, Amy,” Melinda said sadly. “I want them dead, but I cannot do it.”

“And you,” Amy asked, looking at her oldest sister.

“I cannot do it either. I thought I could. I wanted to. But now that we are here? I just can’t.”

“I thought as much,” Amy said with an understanding smile. “I could see it back at the camp. When shooting clay pigeons, you two were very good. But when the targets were man-shaped, you hesitated every time. So you cannot kill them. That is fine. I can do that. But let me ask you this. Can you hurt them? Can you cause them severe pain?”

The older sisters looked at each other. They had expected Amy to be pissed, but she just kept surprising them.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said. “I can hurt them. What do I need to do?”

“Hold on a sec,” Amy said. “Mel? What about you?”

“I….I…I can hurt them,” Melinda said hesitantly, surprised at the upwelling of anticipation she felt.

“Excellent. I am going ask each of you to pummel one of those two in there. I want you to beat them within an inch of their lives. Don’t kill them. That is my fun. Do either of you have a preference concerning who you will take?”

“I don’t,” Elizabeth said.

“I don’t, either,” Melinda said.

“Ok. I am going to flip a coin. Heads, Mel gets dad. Tails, Liz gets him. Agreed?”

The older sisters nodded and Amy flipped the coin. She let it fall to the floor and all three saw it had come up tails.

“So, I take dad,” Elizabeth said with a slight smile. “What do I do?”

“I will get to that in a little bit. The movie has about 60 minutes left. I need to go get some things but I will be back before the movie is over. Please do not go into the room until I get back. I still like the surprise element here.”

“Ok,” the older women said.

Amy took off at a run. She knew there was a kitchen in the place. That would come in handy when disposing of the corpses. From the looks of the place no one had been here since Amanda, Elaine, and Michelle were killed. That was fortuitous. Running into the kitchen, she found the tools the murderers used 12 years ago. She grabbed the lot and headed back to the booth. Passing an open doorway, she looked in and inspiration struck.

“Here are your tools,” Amy said as she wheeled the cart into the booth. “There is a baseball bat, some hammers, even a flail, if you can believe it. I saw a couple other things I need. I will be back in a minute.”

Amy ran to the open room and looked around. The objects that had caught her attention were two large concrete blocks. They were cube-shaped and 24 inches to a side. Picking one up, she calculated the weight as close to 100 pounds. The nicest part were the iron rings in the top of each cube. Amy could see someone attaching a chain to the ring and dragging the block around the room.

Amy thought that was too simplistic, but if they cuffed his ankles to the rings and used the hook in the ceiling to hoist John into the air, they could spread his legs as far as possible and John would not be able to do anything to protect his balls. This was going to be fun. Grabbing a ring with each hand, Amy picked up the two blocks and carried them back to the booth.

—–

John was truly worried. This looked bad. He now understood that he was in the room where these movies were filmed. He had seen these movies many times over the last 12 years and enjoyed them greatly. After recognizing what he was seeing, he realized that someone had liked his ex-wife enough to seek revenge for her death.

Luckily, John thought, he did not appear in the films. True, the people killing Amanda were covered in a black outfits that prevented the viewer from identifying them, but someone had discovered that it was Alanna and Rita. Rita had met her grisly end, but that still left Alanna.

It was possible that they did not even know who he was. He could try to play it off as a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He would offer a large amount of money to be released. It really was too bad about Alanna, but, as he had earlier decided, he would have left her soon, anyway.

“John,” Alanna said, trying to get his attention.

The movie had just ended. John knew Alanna now knew where they were. She was terrified. The information all pointed to a bad end for her. She and Rita had killed Amanda here 12 years ago and now, Rita was dead.

Alanna was not too distressed about Rita’s death, though the dismemberment had bothered her a bit. Rita had become a liability anyway. Their 15-year friendship had lost its importance and Alanna had been working on plans to kill Rita.

“John,” Alanna repeated. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” John whispered in a tone that was barely audible. “We will have to see if we can reason with them. They probably think you killed Amanda. We just have to convince them it was not you. You and Rita may have those two in the black suits, but there really is no way to prove it.”

“You…..you are right,” Alanna said with a sigh.

“Now shut up. They are probably monitoring the sound in this room.”

With a bang that caused the two restrained people to jump, the door opened and the woman came back into the room. She unplugged the TV and wheeled it out. Coming back, she took her chair from between John and Alanna placed it about six feet in front of them.

“So,” Amy said as she sat down, “did you enjoy the feature? I assume I do not have to explain why you are here.”

“Just a moment,” Alanna objected. “Who were those people? Why would you show us a film like that?”

“Really, Alanna,” Amy asked incredulously. “You are going to pretend that wasn’t you and Rita in those black outfits?”

“I don’t know who you are,” Alanna answered, “but I do not have to pretend. That was not me. I have never been here before.”

Amy nodded but said nothing as she stood and walked to Alanna. Amy delivered a vicious backhand that would have had Alanna sprawled on the floor had her retraints kept her in the chair. Amy walked back to the chair and sat down again.

“I should have warned the two of you,” Amy said. “I can always tell when someone is lying to me. It is the only sure-fire way to piss me off. If you lie to me, I will hurt you. And Alanna? That was not as bad as it can get. Do we understand each other?”

Alanna and John nodded, though John still had his doubts.

“I understand that you have an issue with this woman,” John said, “but I really have nothing to do with this. Is there any way we can make a deal? I have a lot of money. I can give you whatever you want.”

Alanna was outraged. John was abandoning her? She was about to say something when she saw Amy stand up and walk to John.

“See Alanna,” Amy asked. “This man is not worth what you thought. He cares nothing for you.”

“And you,” she said to John, “obviously were not paying attention when I told Alanna that lying was futile.”

Amy reached down and, grabbing the metal cuff on John’s wrist, unlocked it. She repeated the action on the other three cuffs and then stepped back.

“You have one chance, old man. I am between you and the door. If you can get past me, you are free. My friends will not stop you.”

In the booth, Elizabeth and Melinda almost felt sorry for their father. Although he was twice the size of Amy, and in excellent physical condition, he had no chance of getting past her.

John, though, had different thoughts.

“You would shoot me. Or throw a knife at me. How do I know I have a chance?”

To answer, Amy stripped down to her black spandex shorts and black sports bra. It was obvious that she had no weapons.

“As you can see, I have no weapons, other than my hands and feet. Now, if you have the balls to try, come at me.”

John needed no further goading, He bolted from his seat and charged straight in.

Amy sighed. This was going to be no fun. She executed a backspin kick that connected with his shoulder, sending him to the floor. As he attempted to rise, she grapped him with her left hand and threw him across the room like he was a rag doll. With a sickening pop, he slammed into the wall and dislocated his shoulder.

“Damn,” Amy said. “I should leave it like that, but this will be more fun.”

She bent down, grabbed the wrist of the arm that was dislocated, and – placing her foot on John’s chest – yanked on the arm, popping it back into place. John screamed in agony and passed out.

“Fucking wimp,” Amy said disgustedly as she carried John back to the chair and reattached the cuffs.

Delivering another backhand to John’s head, Amy smiled as she saw the eyelids flutter as John regained consciousness.

“I told you,” Amy said, seeing John was fully awake again, “that I know when someone is lying to me. I know who you are, John McInish. And I know that you have no money. Ed moved that money. And it was never yours in the first place. It was your life insurance policy, but you are not dead.”

“How do you know about Ed,” John asked.

“I know a lot of things, John. I know, for example, that – although you do not appear in those movies you saw – you are the reason for them. Your wife, the victim in the third movie, refused to give you more children and you arranged all that, including faking your death, to avoid a messy divorce.”

“So, where is the money,” Alanna asked.

“It is where it belongs,” Amy said as Elizabeth and Melinda entered the room. “It is with me, Elizabeth, and Melinda.”

“Hi, daddy,” Melinda said. “Miss us?”

Alanna fainted.

—–

“Well,” Amy said with a smile, “that was predictable. Mel, could you go get one of those needles we brought? I want to make sure she will not pass out again.”

“Sure, Amy.

“Well, daddy. You did not answer Mel’s question.”

“Amy,” John asked. “Is it really you?”

“Uh….yes, daddy. It’s me. And Mel and Liz. You just saw what happened to Mom, Lany, and Chelly so this will be it for the family reunion.”

“Then why did you hurt me?”

Amy knew he was going to try for the innocent angle, but she would not be fooled. Ed had found them in under three months. Alanna knew who had sold the girls in Thailand. They had had years to locate the girls if that was what they wanted.

“Why,” Amy asked. “I told you when I slapped Alanna that I can tell when you are lying. I also mentioned that liars piss me off and get punished.”

“But you dislocated my arm,” he complained.

“And I put it back,” Amy replied. “Think of it as an object lesson.”

Melinda came back and jabbed the needle into Alanna’s neck. She pressed the plunger, sending the solution into Alanna’s bloodstream.

“How many more do we have,” Amy asked.

“About a dozen,” Melinda answered.

“Good. I do not anticipate needing more than two or three more, but it is good to have extra.”

“What is that,” John asked.

Amy went and retrieved another of the needles and held it so John could see it.

“Same thing you saw mom inject into Michelle and Elaine. Adrenaline and endorphins. They will keep her alert as we work on her.”

“Work on her? You mean like in those movies?”

“Yep,” Amy said as she shoved the needle into John’s neck. “And this one is yours.”

“You’re going to kill us?”

“Hell yes,” Amy said, fury making her eyes a dark green.

“What if I tell you I was uninvolved?”

“I would look into your eyes as you told me and, should I believe you are lying, I will pummel you. Trust me, daddy. I know the truth of this. I heard it from Ed and Rita. I know you were involved. I also know why.”

“You wanted a son,” Amy continued. “Mom refused, after having 5 daughters, to have more children. You found out Alanna was pregnant with your son and arranged to have mom removed from the situation. Alanna found out she could find buyers for me, Mel, and Liz, but no one wanted Lany or Chelly.”

“You had a thought, based on your chance encounter with your doppelganger. You faked your death, had Alanna arrange the deaths of mom, Chelly, and Lany. Lastly, you let that bitch sell us off to slavery. When Ed found out you were alive – and found out you had lied about how mom was lazy and didn’t want to work – he found us in a shitty bar where we were being raped by customers and fucking animals. He helped us get free and we pieced the past together.”

“I swore that I would have my revenge, but that will wait. It is time for your other daughters to have some fun.”

Amy freed his hands and cuffed them together.

“Do not try anything,” Amy warned as she freed his ankles.

John did not listen. As soon as his legs were free, he bolted up and made for the door. Amy quickly caught him by the throat with her left hand and lifted him off the ground. John, stunned by her strength hung there choking. Regaining his senses, he started kicking her.

“Fucker,” Amy snarled as she shook him like a rag doll. “I told you not to try anything.”

She threw him against the wall again, taking care that he would hit back first, knocking the wind from him without breaking anything. It worked like a charm and he was soon gasping deep breaths as he lay on the floor. Amy quickly cuffed his ankles and lifting him up again, hung his cuffed wrists on one of the hooks.

John’s feet barely touched the floor. Regardless of how he tried, he could not get off the hook. Giving up, he put as much pressure on his feet as he could, alleviating the stress on his bound wrists.

Amy studied her handiwork and then, as Alanna was regaining consciousness, did the same to the older woman. Soon, Alanna and John both hung from the hooks in the ceiling. Amy retrieved a pair of heavy duty scissors from the booth and cut the clothes from the pair.

“Ok, daddy,” Amy said, “I have other things to take care of, but don’t worry. Liz and Mel will keep you company.”

Amy left the room as Melinda and Elizabeth entered.

“Melinda, Elizabeth,” John said, “help me. Your sister is crazy. I do not know what has gotten into her.”

“Oh, dad,” Elizabeth said, “she is just mad because you arranged to have mom, Elaine, and Michelle murdered. Oh, and you arranged for the three of us to be sold to white slavers in Bangkok. We spent eight years being used as sex toys by filthy drunks. That is what has gotten into her.”

“She thinks I was involved with that?”

“Please, daddy,” Melinda said, “we may not be as proficient as Amy in detecting lies, but we know you were involved. Don’t waste time lying about this.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth agreed. “Don’t lie to Amy. That really pisses her off. We saw her throw you against the wall. She could do a lot worse to you.”

“How did she do that? I weigh 240 pounds.”

“That is easy. She can easily lift over 300 pounds with each hand. She has been working out.”

“What is going to happen to us,” Alanna asked, joining the conversation.

“Well, you saw what you did to our mother. Amy is going to make the two of you feel that kind of pain. If she still feels that is not enough, she will probably go after Johnny.”

“Johnny,” Alanna asked in alarm. “He has nothing to do with this.”

“On the contrary,” Elizabeth answered. “He was the cause of it. Dad, here, wanted a son. Mom had had enough with five children and had her tubes tied. Then you came along and got pregnant with the son he wanted. If Johnny had been born a girl, it is possible that none of this would have happened.”

“But, Amy may be merciful. If she can satisfy her need for revenge with you two, then Johnny may be spared.”

“Where is Johnny?”

“He and Ed are in Ancona at your house. They left the island and flew home.”

“Where do they think we are?”

“Johnny believes you are on your yacht sailing home. It will be days before anyone notices you are missing.”

“Does Ed know about this,” John asked.

“Yes. After finding out you were alive, he located us in Bangkok and rescued us. Your betrayal hurt him more than you will ever know. He rescued us and brought us home. He gave us the $200 million he was managing for Johnny.”

“THAT’S JOHNNY’S MONEY,” Alanna screamed.

“Well, to be exact,” Melinda said calmly, “some of it is Johnny’s, if he lives. If Amy decides to spare him, we will arrange for $50 million to be set aside for him. As one of four children, he will get one quarter of the money.”

“Amy is in charge,” John asked.

“Yes,” Melinda said. “And you really shouldn’t piss her off. Because she was too young to be a sex toy when we got to Bangkok, she was trained as an assassin instead. She was used to kill those that hurt the other girls.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth agreed. “She has killed over 100 men already and was responsible for the plan that took out your security goons on the island. She could, if motivated, introduce you to pain you have never imagined.”

“What are you two supposed to do, then?”

Elizabeth and Melinda looked at each other. This conversation had gone on long enough.

“This,” they said in unison as they launched into attack routines they learned at the camp.

“About fucking time,” Amy muttered as she watched from the booth.

Elizabeth launched into a flying backspin kick that connected with her father’s stomach. It was designed to knock the wind out of him without causing too much damage too quickly. All three girls were agreed that he deserved to feel as much pain as he could before he died. Elizabeth knew she could not kill him – she was pretty sure that she would be unable to kill anyone – but that would not stop her from making him wish she would kill him.

Predictably, John brought his knees up to protect his abdomen. Quickly dropping, Elizabeth lashed out with a kick to his now-exposed genitals. She connected solidly and John howled in pain, tears running down his cheeks. Moving around behind her father, Elizabeth let loose with a flurry of blows to his back, striking his kidneys and upper back. He swung like a pendulum as he hung from the hook.

Melinda, in the meantime, was doing a respectable job on Alanna. The older woman was now alert again and remembered the way she tortured Amanda years before. If these girls followed the same pattern, this was going to be a long afternoon. Melinda was faster than her older sister and her kicks were stronger. Within moments, Alanna’s hips were seriously bruised. Melinda launched a kick to the groin that landed with enough force that it lifted Alanna almost enough for the woman to come off the hook.

Alanna was howling like her husband. This was bad, she decided. The girls knew everything. How they found out was a mystery, but the resolution Alanna saw in the younger women’s eyes convinced her that neither she, nor John would survive this afternoon. The only question was the pain involved. As with most people, death did not scare her. The pain associated with death……well, that was another matter.

The pummeling went on and on. Forty-five minutes passed while Elizabeth and Melinda worked over the hanging couple. The girls’ training had paid off, though. Although John and Alanna were seriously bruised and were in serious pain, no bones were broken.

“Ok,” Amy said as she and two familiar-looking men came back into the room. “That’s enough for now. Take them down and get them cleaned up.”

The two men, Trevor and Sven – men who were part of John’s security team – took John and Alanna down from the hooks and took them to the bathroom. A hose was shoved into John’s and Alanna’s assholes and the water was turned on. John and Alanna groaned from the feeling of cold water flooding their intestines.

The cramping caused by the cold water elicited more screams from the two. After a minute, the hoses were pulled out. Trevor held John up while Sven punched his former employer in the stomach, causing John to expel water and shit. The same thing was done to Alanna and then the hoses were shoved back in and the process began again.

After four cycles, the water John and Alanna expelled was crystal clear. Now that the insides were clean, Sven and Trevor hosed the couple down and set to with scrub brushes and soap and began cleaning the outsides. John, weary and weak from his ordeal, was extremely confused.

“Trevor,” John said, “what is happening? Why have you betrayed me? Why are you helping those girls?”

Trevor looked up at Amy, who nodded.

“I’m sorry, John,” Trevor replied. “You have been a good boss and I would never have betrayed you. When Sven and I woke up, we were here. The little girl – Amy – made a bet with us. We would fight her. She would go up against the two of us at the same time. If we won, we were free. If we lost, we would have a choice.”

“We lost, John,” Sven said. “I still do not know how it is possible, but that little girl mopped the floor with us. Her punches feel like a mule’s kick. Anyway, the choice she gave us was this: if we helped her with you two, she would kill us quickly. If we did not, she would kill us painfully, taking her time.”

“You have to understand, John,” Trevor continued. “You two are already doomed. I do not know what you did to these girls, but they are carrying a serious grudge. They mean to hurt you terribly. Nothing we can do will help you. Taking that into consideration, the choice was relatively easy.”

John understood. He had been contemplating selling Alanna out just to save himself. He really could not fault the choice his men made.

“Amy,” Alanna said, “are you going to kill Johnny?”

“To be honest, bitch,” Amy said, “I haven’t really decided. There are two arguments running through my head right now. The first one says he is the real reason for everything. Let’s face it. If you hadn’t gotten pregnant with a boy, my father might not have arranged to kill his wife and marry you. That alone warrants the boy’s death.”

“Adding to that argument is the psychological aspect of all this. The pain you feel knowing that your actions 12 years ago are the reasons for your son’s death – his excruciating death – is…..well, that pain is exquisite.”

“On the other hand, if we were to judge him based solely on what he has done, he is innocent. That would mean that I would have no reason to kill him. Regardless of how it happened, he is our sole remaining relative. Will I kill my brother? I do not know yet.”

Sven and Trevor finished cleaning Alanna and John. They carried the couple back to the room and cuffed them back into the chairs.

“Thank you, boys,” Amy said to the two guards. “Now, if you will go stand in the corner, I will fulfill my part of the bargain and end it quickly for you.”

Trevor, in a moment of desperation, launched himself at Amy. She calmly pulled a knife from her belt and sidestepped out of his reach. As he stumbled past, Amy slashed down, cutting the hamstring of Trevor’s right leg. As Trevor fell to the floor, clutching his injured leg, Amy pointed a gun at Sven.

“And you,” Amy asked Sven. “What will you do?”

Sven walked to the corner and turned to face away from Amy. Amy nodded and fired 3 rounds into the back of Sven’s head. The guard slumped to the floor, dead before his body hit the floor. Turning back to Trevor, Amy smiled cruelly. This was going to be fun.

She walked toward Trevor and he started sliding back away from her. Amy set the gun and knife on the floor. Moving quickly, she grabbed Trevor and hauled him to his feet. She stepped back and looked at him.

“Really, Trevor,” she said, “what were you thinking? Didn’t we go through this six hours ago?”

“I don’t want to die,” Trevor whined.

“Oh, stop being a big baby. You tried to kill me and my sisters on that island. Even before we said or did anything, you and Sven were shooting at us. Most guards would issue a verbal warning. You did not. Anyone who tries to kill me or my sisters will die. That includes you.”

“But,” Amy continued, “I tried to give you a quick painless death. We made a deal and then you do this? I am sorry, Trevor. You broke the deal and now you will feel my wrath.”

No one saw the punch. Amy was in front of Trevor and then, suddenly, she was behind him. The people in the room, however, heard it. With a sickening crunch, Trevor’s shoulder was pulped. Trevor’s left arm hung limply from a shoulder that was a mass of crushed bone.

With a howl of pain, Trevor spun and launched a punch with his right arm. Amy ducked under it and grabbed his wrist. Standing up quickly, she drove her shoulder through his right elbow, snapping it. She then let loose with another blow, pulping his right shoulder. Now, both of his arms hung limply.

“Happy now, Trevor,” Amy asked. “I am prepared to end this quickly if you apologize.”

“Fadfasdmaskj werwoiusa,” he muttered incoherently.

“You know,” Amy asked. “That did not sound like an apology.”

She spun close to Trevor and lashed out with her left foot, driving it through Trevor’s left knee. Trevor fell to the floor. His left leg – with its broken knee – and his right leg – with its cut hamstring – could no longer support him. Amy viciously kicked Trevor in the ribs on the right side of his body. Another sickening crunch was heard, followed by Trevor’s howl of agony.

“I”M SORRY,” Trevor howled, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

Amy nodded once and retrieved the gun.

“Thank you, Trevor,” Amy said as she fired three rounds into the broken guard’s head.

Trevor’s body shuddered once, twice, and then fell still.

“I need a drink,” Amy said to Alanna and John. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

—–

“Having fun,” Elizabeth asked as Amy came into the booth.

“Fucking Trevor,” Amy replied as she grabbed a Diet Pepsi from the cooler. “I thought he was smarter than that.”

“Well,” Melinda said, “it does show how serious you are.”

“Yeah,” Amy said. “Anyway, did you two want to do more or should I take over now?”

“I think I am satisfied,” Elizabeth said. “I think you can take over now. I will be satisfied watching them go through whatever you have in mind.”

“I agree,” Melinda said. “It’s all yours, now, Amy.”

“Thanks,” Amy said as she picked up two more syringes. “I will be back in a sec.”

Amy walked back into the room and gave John and Alanna another injection of the stimulant.

“I don’t want either of you passing out on me,” Amy said to the couple. “That would be no fun.”

Amy walked back into the booth and looked over her tools. Looking at the wooden cart, she scowled in frustration.

“Mel,” Amy said. “Did you see those steel gloves I had this morning?”

“The ones that had the fingertips cut off?”

“Yes. I do not see them here.”

“We might have dropped them as we were coming down here. I will go look for them.”

“Thanks, Mel.”

Amy looked over the tools and smiled. A hand-held torch, several scalpels, a few hammers, an electric iron, a baseball bat, and many other items were arranged on a tool cart. One of the key items was a box full of thin needles. There must have been 200+ needles in that box.

“They were on the floor outside the kitchen,” Melinda said as she came back into the room, holding the gloves.

“Thanks, Mel,” Amy said with a smile. “I am going to need them. Could you two help me move stuff into the room? I need this wooden table and the cart. I can handle the cart if you two move the table.”

“Sure, Amy,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

“Thanks. Just put the table in front of Alanna.”

Melinda and Elizabeth were happy this part was finally starting. It meant the end was nearing. They were happy to be a part of their father’s demise, but this was more extreme than they had hoped. They would have been happy with him getting a few bullets in the brain like Sven and Trevor. Amy, however, needed him to feel pain.

—–

Alanna watched as Elizabeth and Melinda brought in the table. They placed it in front of her and left without saying a word. As Alanna watched, Amy wheeled the cart into the room. With a terrible sinking feeling, Alanna recognized the cart.

“Fuck,” Alanna muttered.

“What,” John asked.

“You cannot see it,” Alanna said as she watched Amy plug in the iron, “but if they haven’t changed it too much, the tools on that cart would make an Inquisition torturer jealous.”

“Fuck,” John said.

“That’s what I said,” Alanna replied.

Amy came over holding the gloves, a hammer, and some nails. She forced the gloved over Alanna’s hands and cinched them tight. They would not come off until Amy wanted them to. She then nailed the gloves to the table. Alanna, in a panic, found that she could not move her hands or fingers.

“You were amateurish,” Amy said to Alanna. “Using a hammer to destroy toes in order to cause pain? Heh.”

Amy took 30 needles out of the box and inserted three into each finger below the nail. Alanna shrieked in pain. Amy smiled at the sounds and pulled out a pair of foam earplugs.

“Sorry, daddy,” Amy said with a smirk as she put in her earplugs. “You will just have to deal with the noise.”

Alanna sobbed in agony. This was more pain than she had ever felt.

“See, Alanna,” Amy asked with a smile. “If you merely cut off the fingers, the pain fades and you minimize the pain you can inflict.”

“But,” Amy continued as she pulled the three needles from the forefinger on the left hand, “by leaving the fingers intact, the nerve endings are still there.”

“And with the nerves intact,” she continued as she reinserted the needles under the fingernail, “you can keep stimulating them for hours.”

Amy walked over to the cart as Alanna continued to sob in agony. Retrieving the handheld torch, she walked back to Alanna. Looking under the table, Amy grinned. Crawling under the table, she spread Alanna’s legs and looked at the older woman’s fur-covered pussy. Triggering the torch, she ignited Alanna’s pubic hair. It went up quickly, but the woman’s shrieks reached an even higher pitch.

Amy chuckled as she looked at the now-smooth pussy. Backing out from under the table, she looked over at her father’s crotch. He was hairy too. Then again, he had hair all over his chest and back as well. This was really going to be fun.

“I will be right back,” Amy said as she left the room.

Amy walked into the booth and began rummaging through the boxes in the corner. Her sisters looked on in horror. They knew her sister was determined to cause pain, but the level of sadism they were seeing proved that Amy was not the sister they thought they knew.

“Have either of you seen that bottle of vodka Sven had?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “It is over here.”

Elizabeth went to Sven’s jacket, which was lying in the other corner. Reaching into the inner pocket, she pulled out the bottle. Amy took the bottle, saying thanks, and went back into the room.

Amy walked up to her father and carefully poured the vodka on his chest, crotch, and legs. Stepping back, she used the torch to ignite the fumes. She giggled as blue flames crawled over her father’s body, singing the hair off. Amy repeated the process on John’s back. Soon the only hair John and Alanna had was on their heads.

“Well,” Amy said, “that was fun. But Alanna, you are still too hairy.”

Amy went over and ignited the hair on Alanna’s head. The stench of burning hair filled the room. As Alanna screamed, Amy went over and ignited her father’s hair. The flames did not last long and soon, both Alanna and John were bald.

“Much better, don’t you think?”

“Amy, please,” John said. “Please let us go. You do not want to kill us. I know you were hurt and I am really sorry. Please, just let us go. I do not care about the money. You three can have it.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DADDY,” screamed Amy. “You don’t seem to get it. We can have the money anyway. As for me wanting to kill you, you have never been more wrong in your life. I have dreamed of nothing but killing you since I found out you were still alive. When I found out you orchestrated this whole fucking situation, I knew I had to kill you. But killing you was not enough. I want you to feel as much pain as Lany felt. As Chelly and mom felt. I want you to feel the pain, Liz, Mel, and I felt. You will be begging me to kill you before I let you die.”

“But…..”

Amy did not let him finish. She backhanded him hard and dislocated his jaw. Seeing what she had done, she grabbed the jaw and shoved it back into place.

“You still do not get it. There are only two things I want to hear from you, you fucker. I want to hear your screams and I want to hear you begging for death. Let me give you an example of what I can do.”

Amy set down the torch and went to the cart. Finding a sharp scalpel, she returned to her father. She made a shallow cut on his abdomen and peeled back the top layers of flesh exposing the nerves below. Grabbing a few of the nerves, she used the scalpel to lightly scrape the blade along them. If it had not been for the stimulants, John would have passed out from the pain. As it was, all he could do was open his mouth in a silent howl of agony.

“Now, shut the fuck up until I am ready to deal with you. I am still working on your fucking pig of a wife, you shit. Just shut the fuck up.”

John was almost mindless from the pain. He had enough consciousness to realize his daughter was no longer sane when it came to him and Alanna. All he could do was sit there and hope it would be over soon. Anything else would only invite more pain. He remembered one of her sisters mentioning that she had been trained as an assassin. He believed it now. The older sister had been right about another thing. Pissing Amy off was a big mistake.

Amy picked up the torch and returned to Alanna.

“Sorry if you thought I forgot about you,” Amy said to Alanna. “I didn’t.”

Amy lit the torch and held the flame to the needles heating the metal. When the metal was glowing from the heat, she moved on to the next needle. Alanna continued her screaming as her fingers cooked from the inside. Her screams kept getting louder and louder until there was sudden silence. Amy looked up at Alanna and, seeing the older woman’s mouth still open and hearing the air come out through it, Amy began to laugh.

“Hahahaha,” Amy cackled. “You broke your voice. I must say, though, that I am a bit relieved. I do not need to hear your screams to know the pain you are in.”

Amy finished heating the last of the needles and went back to the cart. Selecting a pair of pliers, she went back to Alanna. Leaving the needles in place, Amy used the pliers to grip the thumbnail on Alanna’s left hand. With a yank, Amy ripped the nail free. Tears rolled down Alanna’s face as she shook in agony.

Amy repeated the action on the next finger….and the next. Soon all 10 nails were pulled free. Amy tested the heat of the needles and, finding them sufficiently cooled, pulled the 30 needles from the fingers. She freed Alanna’s hands and moved the table out of the way. Then she started on Alanna’s toes.

—–

Elizabeth was seriously disturbed. Amy was going beyond anything the older sister had imagined. She had seen her mother use a hammer to destroy her older sister’s toes and had felt that was horrible. But, as bad as that was, this was so much worse.

“Elizabeth,” Melinda said, “Amy has lost it, hasn’t she?”

“I am afraid so, Melinda. We can only hope that, when this is over, she will go back to being the sweet sister we know.”

“I am scared, Elizabeth.”

“Me too, Melinda. Me too.”

—–

Alanna was no longer howling. She was whimpering and sobbing. She could not wait for this nightmare to be over. It was ridiculous. She hurt so bad, she had lost her voice. And that little demon was not finished yet.

“Alanna,” Amy said. “Alanna…..Alanna…..yes. Look at me, you bitch. Are you allergic to bees?”

“No,” Alanna croaked, her voice not quite recovered.

“Good. I will be right back.”

—–

Alanna walked into the booth. Looking through her bag of goodies, she pulled out a sturdy – but thin – glove that was covered in grit.

“What is that,” Melinda asked.

“Another glove I made. It is covered with medium grit from sandpaper. I coated the glove with superglue and then covered the glove with the grit.”

Amy reached in and pulled out a plastic bottle that was tightly sealed.

“And that,” Elizabeth asked.

“Bee venom. I will put some on the glove and then fist Alanna’s ass with it. It is not lethal, but the venom will hurt like hell.”

Amy left the booth and went back into the room.

“Melinda…..”

“Call me ‘Mel’, Elizabeth.”

“Only if you call me ‘Liz’, Melinda.”

“Deal, Liz.”

“Deal, Mel. Oh, and Mel?”

“Yeah, Liz?”

“Remind me to never piss off our younger sister. She really scares the fuck out of me.”

—–

Amy walked up to John and undid his cuffs.

“Don’t try anything, daddy.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, Amy.”

Amy cuffed his hands together and hung him on the hook again. She then got some lubricant and coated his asshole with it. With a quick motion, she shoved her fist into him.

“FUCK,” screamed John. “What the hell?”

“Can it, daddy. You actually should be thanking me. I am loosening you up a little.”

“Loosening me up,” John asked incredulously as Amy walked back to the cart. “Loosening me up for what?”

“This,” Amy said, waving a baseball bat as she approached her father.

“God, Amy,” John whimpered. “No.”

“Yes,” Amy said with a smile as she fit the fat end of the bat into her father’s asshole.        ”Please stop, Amy. That bat is killing me.”

“Oh, hush, daddy. I am going to kill you; not some stupid piece of wood.”

Amy left the bat in her father and went over to Alanna. She undid Alanna’s cuffs and handcuffed the older woman’s wrists together before hanging her on a hook beside her husband. Amy waves at the mirror and Melinda turned the hooks so the two captives were facing each other.

Amy put on the glove and poured a little of the venom on the index finger. She walked behind Alanna and – without lubrication – shoved two fingers up the older woman’s ass. At first, Alanna was confused. Then the pain hit.

The first pain – caused by the abrasive grit on the glove – was bad, but not too bad. Then the venom came into contact with the torn tissue. That pain was maddening. Alanna started kicking her legs and shaking from side to side, in hopes of alleviating her pain. Amy laughed in evil delight.

“What, happened,” John asked. “What did you do to her?”

“This,” Amy said as she used her gloved hand to pull on her father’s cock.

The glove tore the skin on John’s cock and the venom did its work. In only a moment, John was howling in torment. Amy put a little more venom on the glove and went back to Alanna. This time, she shoved her whole hand inside the older woman’s ass. As she pushed the hand deeper, Amy flexed her fingers, tearing the delicate tissue. Alanna sobbed heavily. Her voice was beginning to recover and her please were barely audible.

“….please kill me……please kill me……please kill me……..”

“Not yet, bitch,” Amy said. “We have more fun yet to come.”

Deciding to let Alanna sit in torment, Amy went back to her father. She pulled the bat from his ass and, after applying more venom to the glove, shoved her hand up inside. Knowing male anatomy from her studies as an assassin (it always helps to know how to hurt someone), she located his prostate and ripped at it with her gloved fingers. At first, it caused a massive erection and orgasm that caused his dick to spew semen halfway to the door.

“Wow, daddy,” Amy said. “Did that feel good?”

John was incapable of answering as the venom was taking effect, causing excruciating pain to erupt in his bowels. Smiling, Amy left him to his torment and went to fist Alanna’s cunt. Using the rest of the venom, Amy scratched the woman’s clitoris before roughly shoving her fist inside the woman’s cunt.

Amy decided to get down to business. This had been fun, by time was ticking by. It was time to get on with killing these two. She went back to the cart and selected a butcher knife and a 18-inch chain with hooks on each end.

Amy walked back to Alanna. The woman was almost out of it. The pain was taking a toll on her consciousness. Amy couldn’t have the woman passing out. That would not be fair to Lany, Chelly, or mom. She got two more syringes and injected the stimulant into Alanna’s and John’s necks. He did not look like he was going to pass out, but this next step might test that.

While she waited for the stimulant to take effect, Amy set the chain on the floor and went back to the cart. She selected two more thin chains with hooks. One was 40 inches long and the other was 50 inches long. Her chains in hand, she walked back to the hanging couple. Alanna was still not quite alert, but she was better than she was a minute ago. Sweat poured down her face as she moaned in pain.

John was fully alert. He was also terrified. He did not know what his daughter meant to do with those chains, but it would not be good for him. That was for sure.

Amy grabbed her butcher knife in one hand and her father’s cock and balls in the other. With a look to his face and a quick smile, she quickly sliced his genitals off. Moving quickly as John howled in pain, Amy retrieved the iron and cauterized the wound. Attaching one hook to one side of the severed genitals, Amy looped the 40-inch chain around Alanna’s waist and attached the second hook to the other side of the genitals. Alanna now had a dick.

Seeing that Alanna – with a horrified look on her race – was fully alert now, Amy sliced the older woman’s left breast off and cauterized the wound. As Alanna shrieked in pain (Amy found it amazing how her voice came back), Amy cauterized the wound and attached one end of the 18-inch chain to the severed tit. Amy then repeated the process with the right breast and hung the pair around her father’s neck.

“We are almost done with you, Alanna,” Amy said. “Any last words?”

Alanna merely shook her head as the pain coursed through her body. Seeing her tits on her husband’s chest was kind of surreal. Looking down, she realized that having her husband’s penis hanging from her body was equally surreal. Suddenly, the meaning behind Amy’s words penetrated her pain-fogged mind and she realized the end was near.

“Thank you for finishing this, Amy,” Alanna said. “If it is any consolation, I am sorry.”

“It is no consolation, but I can understand that you are sorry. Here we go, Alanna.”

Amy knelt and moved the penis to the side. Without any concern given to the pain Alanna felt, Amy cut the woman’s pussy free and, using the 50-inch chain, hung it from her father’s hips. The severed pussy covered the hole where his cock had been.

“Look, Alanna,” Amy said quickly. “Look at your husband. Doesn’t he look like a butch dyke?”

Alanna looked at her husband, seeing her tits on his chest and her pussy covering his crotch. She started to sob again. The blood loss from her latest wound was making her lightheaded. Seeing this, Amy stepped behind her and, using the knife, cut Alanna’s head off.

Amy lifted Alanna off the hook and laid the headless body on the floor. She set the head on the woman’s chest so the vacant eyes stared at her husband. Amy decided she needed a shower before she continued. As John just stared at his dead wife, Amy left the room.

—–

“Amy,” Elizabeth said as Amy walked past the booth, “where are you going?”

“I feel like taking a shower,” Amy replied. “I have that bitch’s blood all over me and it is disgusting. Also, I felt that daddy should have some quality alone-time with his wife.”

“Are you going to be much longer,” Melinda asked.

“No. I would say thirty minutes from the time I go back in there and we will be done. Thank you for putting up with my selfish behavior. I hate to say it, but I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you two.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hate them, Mel,” Amy answered. “I really, really, hate them. I would do so much more to them, but…..but you help me remember that I could lose myself in this. It is not healthy.”

“I have to admit, Amy,” Elizabeth said, “that I thought you had lost it a bit.”

“No,” Amy objected as she began to tremble. “Even when I am raving in there, it is mostly for show. I wanted them terrified. I got it. Now let me go shower. I think I am going to throw up as well. Give me twenty minutes and come check up on me.”

Amy continued to the shower room. She made it, barely, before she threw up. She had killed many people before, but those people meant nothing to her. She was too emotionally involved here. Had this been a job instead of a personal affair, she would have passed on it. It was never a good idea to mix business and personal affairs.

“Well,” Elizabeth said as she heard her sister throwing up in the bathroom, “that makes me feel better. At least now, I know this is getting to her.”

“Tell me about it,” Melinda said. “She is good at acting, though. I bought it all.”

“Me too, Mel. Me too. I tell you, that girl is super scary.”

“Remind me to never piss her off, Liz.”

“Hey! That’s my line.”

—–

Fifteen minutes later, Amy had regained her composure. She dried herself off and went back to the booth. Grabbing another Diet Pepsi from the cooler, she sat down and looked at her father.

John had been staring at his dead wife. He was next. He knew it and he almost welcomed it. The catch, though, was his sadistic daughter. She would not make this easy. He knew it and was terrified.

John had tried shaking his hips in an attempt to dislodge his dead wife’s vagina. It was futile. He would, it seemed, wear his wife’s tits and pussy until Amy removed them. He found that profoundly disturbing. Thinking back, though, he realized Amy was right. Being sorry now was worthless. If you only felt sorry because you were faced with the consequences of your actions, your repentance meant less than nothing.

A bang drew his attention to the door. Amy was back. She looked as if she had showered.

“In case you are wondering,” Amy said, “I could not stand that pig’s filth on my body so I needed a shower. I hope that gave you enough ‘quality time’ because now, I do not think you will have much attention to spare for that slut.”

“What are you going to do to me? What can you do to me? You already sodomized me. You castrated me. You have caused me more pain than I can imagine. Let me go, Amy. Please, let me go.”

Amy walked up to her father and let loose with a punch that shattered his right hip. He shrieked in pain and – had it not been for the stimulants – would have passed out. Stepping back, Amy waited for his cries of pain to subside. Eventually, they were reduced to whimpers.

“I told you earlier,” Amy said, “that I only wanted to hear two things from you: your cries of pain and your pleas for death. As for letting you go, forget it. You will die here. As for what I am going to do to you, well you will now find out for yourself.”

Amy went to the cart and got a chainsaw and the handheld torch. She went back to her father and, using the chainsaw, cut the left leg from his body. She used the torch to cauterize the wound. Then she used the torch to stop the bleeding from the severed leg. Blood on the leg would make it slippery and unwieldy.

She walked over to the pile of destroyed clothing and wiped her hand on a shirt. Taking the shirt with her, she wiped the blood off the severed leg. Tossing the shirt in the corner, she picked up the leg.

“You know,” Amy asked calmly. “I once heard this line in a movie where a guy threatens to rip someone’s arms off and beat them to death with them. Well, daddy, your arms are busy so this will have to do.”

Taking a few practice swings to see how the leg would react, she realized the knee was going to be a problem. If she hit her father with the front of the leg, the knee would just bend, blunting the force behind the swing. Turning the leg over, she swung it at her father, aiming to hit him with the back of the thigh. It worked perfectly.

“OOOOFFfffff,” John grunted as his severed leg connected with his abdomen, knocking the wind from him.

Amy smiled in delight. This had possibilities. Something was missing, though.

“Oh, yeah,” Amy said. “The bat.”

To her father’s dismay, she dropped the leg and retrieved the bat. Thinking she was going to beat him with the bat, he started to sob.

“No, Amy. Don’t hit me with the bat. I don’t think I could take that.”

“Oh, shut up, you big baby. I am not going to hit you with this…….at least, not yet.”

Amy stepped behind her father and shoved the fat part of the back up his ass again. John howled. It had been almost 40 minutes since she had fisted him and his asshole had tightened up again. This intrusion had no lubricant and he could feel the tissues in his rectum tearing as the wooden bat was inserted.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck,” he groaned in pain, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Does that hurt, daddy,” Amy asked with a smile. “Don’t worry. We are almost done.”

She picked up the leg and went back to work on his torso. She held back from using her full strength. She did not want to break him. As it was, he was physically bruised over most of his body when she was done. She had hit his shattered right hip a few times, causing howls of almost inhuman pain.

After about ten minutes, she pulled the bat from his ass and shoved the leg in foot-first. In the booth, Elizabeth and Melinda were shocked as they laughed at the sight of their father’s leg dangling from his asshole.

Amy picked up the pile of wasted clothing and piled it under her father’s hanging body. With one leg missing and the other hip destroyed, he would not be able to kick the pile away. Using the torch, she lit the pile of clothes and stepped back watching it burn.

The flames licked at his skin and John howled in agony and terror. Unbeknownst to anyone save Alanna and Amanda, this was his worst nightmare; being burned alive.

“Amy, no……please Amy, anything but this. Noooo……please Amy, stop this. Please!!!!”

Amy was torn. She wanted him to feel this pain, but the discomfort she felt after killing Alanna was returning.

“AMY,” John howled, “AMY…..AMY….PLEASE STOP THIS……I CAN’T TAKE IT. I’M BURNING. PLEEEEEEEEEEASE, AMY! KILL ME……..KILL ME…….KILL MEEEEEEE!”

Amy smiled as she hefted the bat.

“All you had to do was ask, daddy,” Amy said pleasantly.

She walked up to him and with all her strength, she swung the bat at his chest. There was a terrifyingly loud crunch as the bad destroyed her father’s ribs and pulverized his heart. He swung wildly, the chain coming off of the hook, and fell to the floor.

Amy dropped the bat and walked to her father. Looking at his face, she saw his eyes cloud over as death approached.

“Thank you, Amy,” John said weakly. “I just……just couldn’t handle the…..the fire.”

Closing his eyes for the last time, he coughed violently, blood spewing from his mouth. A moment later, he was dead.

—–

Amy did not even run to the bathroom. She fell to her knees and threw up violently. All the hate and anger she felt was leaving her. The evil bastards responsible for the deaths of her sisters and mother were dead. Amy had barely enough time to wonder if she was becoming an evil bastard, herself, when Elizabeth and Melinda were suddenly there, helping Amy to her feet.

“C’mon, little sister,” Melinda said. “It’s over. Let’s get out of here.”

“No,” Amy said resolutely, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “It is not over yet. We have one more chore here.”

Amy left the room and, a few minutes later, returned with a 55-gallon drum of gasoline.

“Earlier today,” Amy said, “I arranged for fifty of these things to be brought here. They are scattered throughout the rooms on this floor. There are explosives wired to one of the barrels in each room. When the timer hits zero, the bomb will blow, igniting the gasoline. When the flames finally go out, there will be nothing recognizable of these two.”

“Wow,” Elizabeth said. “Why? This facility is four stories underground. It is unlikely that anyone will find this place.”

“Alanna found it 12 years ago,” Melinda commented. “Other people have to know about it as well.”

“Alanna made the mistake of recording the murders 12 years ago. There was evidence left behind. I am not going to make that mistake. When the authorities investigate, they will find nothing here but ash. I have four more barrels outside the door. Help me move them in, please.”

The older sisters did as they were asked. As they were walking up the last flight of stairs, heading to the door that would lead them outside, they heard a muffled boom.

“There go the bombs,” Amy said. “In about an hour, smoke will start to escape from this door.”

“Only because you turned on the fans directing it here.”

“True, but I made sure that I left no fingerprints.”

“But why,” Elizabeth asked. “Why direct the smoke out here?”

“The toxicity of the fumes down there will make it dangerous for anyone who goes down there. It is almost winter. Homeless people will be looking for a warm place to stay. I do not want them dying down there because of us. This will get the attention of the authorities and they will clean it up or put up warning signs. Anyway, let’s go meet Ed.”

“Are you going to kill Johnny,” Melinda asked.

“No. He is innocent. I know what I said to Alanna, but he is really innocent in all of this.”

“Where will he stay,” Melinda asked. “His parents are dead.”

“Do you really have to ask,” Amy asked incredulously. “He will stay with Ed. The medical treatment was a success. He will still live for a while, yet.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said. “Enough talk. Let’s go catch our flight.”

White land owners have been threatened, bullied, arrested and had their land confiscated or “purchased’ by government over their opposition.  Whites singled out as “troublemakers” and “racists” have been subjected to harassment and abuse.  This is the story of one such couple, Erik and Pamela Pieters.

When their land was “bought” by the government, Erik, working with a “radical” law firm, filed suit to contest the sale and get his property back.  He also wrote letters to the “resistance” newspapers criticizing the government and threw his support to opposition political parties.

This earned him the attention of the government’s state security forces.  Pieters was brought in for questioning more than once.  During these “interviews” he was browbeaten and warned to curtail his opposition to the government.

But Erik was a stubborn man and he kept writing letters and filing claims.  The word came down to intensify the pressure.   He was again picked up, but this time he was brought to a camp outside Bulawayo, run by Joshua Mutumbami.  The facility had been labeled by Western newspapers as a “torture camp”.

Chapter 2

The Whipping Post

Pieters was scared, but made sure he kept his feelings in check.  He had met Mutumbami before and hated him.  He hated all blacks and longed for the old Rhodesia.

Mutumbami disliked Pieters intensely was personally motivated by revenge.  He loved his job because it provided him with the opportunity to get even with whites.  As a boy, he had witnessed his father being humiliated, so his desire for revenge was strong.  Now, he had Erik Pieters in his grasp.  They brought the white farmer to him in his office.

Pieters’ cuffs were removed.  He rubbed his wrists as he sat down in the chair facing Mutumbami at his desk.  He looked around the room and thought to himself, ‘these kaffirs have it all to themselves now’.

“Well, Mr. Pieters, in the old days it was someone like you who summoned someone like me.  How times have changed,” Mutumbami said.

“What do you want?”

“Well, first – I want you to show me the proper respect.”

“Respect has to be earned.”

“True, and in time, I think you’ll come to respect me.  In the meantime, the government is weary of your attitude,” he said, a multitude of white teeth showing in his very black face.  He was smiling slightly and enjoying the situation enormously.

“We’ve decided that you need some persuasion to help you see the light.  When I say we, I mean, of course the government.  We’re gonna talk about persuasion today…”

Erik sat there stone faced, listening to this man go on and on…..he was waiting for him to get to the point.  He looked at him and thought, ‘what a stupid kaffir….in the old days he would have been sweeping the railway station….and doing a shit job of it at that’!

Mutumbami finally got to the point…..

“First, I’m going to give you a little tour of our facilities.  I don’t think you have an appreciation of what we do here.”

“I know just what you people do here,” Erik answered with a sneer.

Ignoring that, Mutumbami summoned two guards.

“Let’s go, Mr. Pieters,” he said to Erik.

He and the two guards escorted Erik over to the far wing of the one-story building.  Mutumbami walked Pieters to stand in front of a closed door.  Groans, cries and the sound of something being struck were heard; someone was in pain.  Pieters’ face blanched.

“Let’s go outside,” Mutumbami said suddenly and he and the two guards ushered Erik down a long corridor and thru a doorway.

Erik could see they were in the courtyard behind the main building.  There on the far side of the yard was a wooden platform with a post in the middle.  Erik looked at it and then at Mutumbami, and then he cleared his throat…

“I don’t care what you do to me.”

“I know….you old white guys are tough.  We’ve decided that it would be a waste of time to “treat” you.  But, there are other ways to get you to change your attitudes.

Just then, some guards came in to the courtyard leading a crowd of young blacks.  The men were boisterous….a group of young street punks and older men….the type that hung out on street corners in Bulawayo.  The guards brought them over to face the platform.

There were about three dozen men in the group.  They milled around – waiting.  And then Erik saw what it was they were waiting for.  Three guards emerged from a doorway leading a white woman by a leash around her neck.  Her hands were bound behind her back.

Erik recognized the woman….it was his wife, Pamela!!!  They marched her to a spot in front of the platform and turned her to face the crowd.  Her face was tearstained – she had been crying.  Erik began to make a fuss.  He attempted to go to her and when he did that, one of the guards held him while the other man punched him in the gut three or four times.

“Be a good boy,” the man beating him said to him cruelly.

The blows on his solar plexus and liver hurt terribly and Erik fell to the ground in a heap.  Rolling around in the dirt, he groaned in pain, fear and frustration.  Some part of him wanted to stay on the ground.  He didn’t want to see what they were going to do to his wife.  Now he understood why Mutumbami was so confident and smug.

The men who had brought Pamela to the platform had full control of her.  Whatever they had done to her before had made her very compliant and submissive.  She didn’t offer any resistance when they began stripping her.

Pamela was a tall, sturdy, well-built, brown-eyed 38 year old blonde mother of three, but she was like a doll as the big guards pulled off her blouse and her skirt.  Now, she was down to her bra and panties.  She had two teenaged children:  a boy of 18 and a girl 16.  She was still nursing her third child – a 12 month old baby boy.

No one but her husband and her doctor had seen her so exposed.  She was blushing from her cheeks down to her breasts.  She didn’t know where to look.  She kept wringing her hands.  She was so self-conscious – it was painful.  The leader unsnapped her bra and she felt her nipples pucker in fear and shame.  As he pulled off her bra, she sucked in her breath as the crowd became more abusive.

They had been taunting her, but now they hurled insult after insult at her.  Telling her how they would fuck her.  The verbal assault hurt…the cruel words like stinging arrows in her flesh.   As her big white tits, as large as grapefruits, with their protuberant brown nipples and aureoles were exposed and swayed, bobbed and bounced, some of the men, seeing her big tits, called her a “cow”.

Pamela winced, as she was a nursing mother and her breasts these days were for her baby.  She had nursed both her older children for more than a year each and her youngest was still at her breast three or four times a day.  To have her swollen milk laden mammaries on display for this mob was a horror to her.  Like her husband she had been raised to think of blacks as less than human.

She was sexually humiliated.  Mutumbami had the guards stand Erik up so he could watch his wife being degraded.  Erik didn’t know where to look.  He was horrified as his wife was stripped in front of him and all that black street trash, and kept turning away from the sight in front of his eyes.

“Let her go….let her go,” he started pleading.

Mutumbami just grinned.  He knew this was going to drive the old white farmer nuts.  Erik, at 48, was a good twenty years older than his tormentor….

Pamela, meanwhile, still had her panties on.  The leader made a motion with his hand and told her to take them off herself.  He wanted to humiliate her totally… and making her take an active role in her own debasement was a nice sadistic touch.

“Take ‘em off and show us your fat white ass, cow,” is how he put it.

She looked at the men and then at the crowd and blushed furiously as waves of humiliation overwhelmed her.  She was wearing full-cut, white, cotton panties.  She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly pulled them down and kicked them off.  Her tits bobbed and jiggled and her nipples stood up like swollen thumbs.  They mob went wild now that she was naked.

Now that she was completely nude, the guards turned her way and that.  Pamela was mortified.  Never in her whole life could she have imagined that she would have to strip down in front of kaffirs.  The men jumped up and down and howled as Pamela was exhibited to them.

She instinctively used her right hand and arm to cover both her tits and her other hand cupped her pussy.  Her white skin made her stand out in the mid-day sun.  The leader made her put her hands down at her sides.  Then he began feeling up her tits.  As soon as he squeezed them, droplets of milk appeared on the tips.  Pamela groaned in shame.

Seeing that she was lactating, he began to milk her.  Soon he had her tits oozing. He kept milking them and they began to drip and then squirt milk.  Pamela covered her face with her hands.  She was so embarrassed.  One of the most private, personal and loving of bodily functions was on display for the amusement of a rowdy crowd of animals.  Something he did, or a sound, or just her own body provoked the “let down” response, and Pamela’s tits swelled and then began spraying her milk.

The crowd, seeing this, began calling her “cow” and bellowing with delight.  Pamela looking down saw two big, black fingers pinching and pulling on her engorged nipples to make her milk squirt and spray.  She closed her eyes as this was mental torture for her.  She was blushing so much it seemed to hurt.  She prayed silently for this to stop.

Pamela began sobbing softly as he milked her for the mob’s enjoyment.  Pamela closed her eyes and bit her lip; there was nothing she could do to make him stop.

The mob milled about, as close to the platform as the guards would permit. They had been drinking beer since the morning and, now at 2 o’clock, the mood was soccer match loud and angry.  Barefoot and naked, Pamela was in for an ordeal.

“You need to watch, Mr. Pieters,” Mutumbami said to Erik in a mocking tone of voice.

Erik stared at the crowd; then at Pamela and grimaced.  The platform was just a few feet high with a small step; the guards pushed Pamela up and onto it. Her large white full globes with her big brown erected nipples oozing and dripping milk had brought the crowd to a fever pitch.  The noise was deafening.  Erik looked on in horror as his wife had been made the center of attention in a sick exhibition.

“Let her go, Mutumbami.  I’ll do whatever you want, I swear.”

“You’d promise me the moon right now, Mr. Pieters.  But, you just watch.  This is what you need…..”

The mob continued to yell obscenities and make rude gestures – verbally assaulting Pamela and Erik wanted to cover his ears and his eyes.  His wife was naked in front of kaffir hooligans and there was nothing he could do about it.

The leader made her put her hands by her sides and turn around.  Then he buckled a leather belt tight around her waist.  In the middle of the belt in the back there was a thin, rough leather strap – about 4 feet long.

It had a thumb-sized, wooden plug threaded on it, so that the plug could slide up and down on the strap.  As they turned her to bind her wrists, Pamela had the strap dragging behind her, like a tail.

The guards tied her wrists and pulled them over her head to tie them to hooks on either side of the post.  Pamela, now bound for whipping, was standing flat on her feet, with a little slack in her bonds.  Then, the leader reached underneath and grabbed the strap.  He took hold of the plug and greased it up with something he had in a tube.

He separated her asscheeks and grinning as he wormed the plug around, got it right at her tightly clenched anus and pressed it against her asshole.  Pamela tried to resist the intrusion into her tightly clenched orifice.

“Oh, no…..Oh………pleeeeease…..no……please…..please no…not…there……please…oh…..uh…..oh……..uhhhh…uhhhh,” she protested.

He kept pressing and, with a twisting motion, forced it thru her tight anal sphincter.  Once he had it fully seated in her rectum, he pulled the strap tight between her cheeks and over her cunt lips. Eventually the thin strap would work its way in between the lips of her sex to torment her also.  He pulled it forward and hooked it to the pole.

The plug in her rectum was an uncomfortable intrusion into her most private orifice.  It had been lubed and the grease heavily laced with the hottest Indian chili powder.  It was already starting to burn.  Feeling the building, hot sensation, Pamela began wiggling and squirming.

They didn’t fetter her ankles.  The position would become a torture after 5 minutes with her arms over her head and the thin, rough strap, tight in her crack, was already chafing.

Pamela began to pull on the ropes binding her and squirm.  Feeling the burning plug in her asshole, she began to wriggle her butt. Seeing her “dance” the mob reacted too.

“Hey slut, sit on my cock and wriggle like that,” someone yelled, making the others clap, laugh and mock her.

Pamela wanted to die.  Feeling the plug in her shit-hole burning hotter and hotter, she squeezed her cheeks together, seeking some relief.  The mob liked it when she clenched her buttocks.  The chili powder continued to burn and irritate her asshole and it got much worse as time went on.   She squirmed and as she did so the strap slipped between her labia and rode in her crack.

She quickly discovered that squeezing the muscles in her asshole was a mistake because it increased the burning sensation.  It felt like someone was holding a lit match to her anus when she did that.  She felt like she had entered “hell”.

There was no set number of strokes for her whipping; it was up to the leader.  He was going to use a whip made from two 18” lengths of automobile fan belt mounted on a 12” wooden handle.   He held it casually in his right hand – came over and patted her ass with the handle.  Pamela looked back fearfully over her shoulder.

“Oh God,” she whimpered.

Erik’s stomach was in knots as he watched his wife, now stripped and bound to a post, ready for her whipping.  He would have taken her place if he could.  He hated Mutumbami more than ever.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, turning to Mutumbami.

“Oh, but I do, Mr. Pieters,” Mutumbami said grinning at him.

Meanwhile the preparations for Pamela’s whipping continued.  Erik was sick now that he realized there was nothing he could do to stop it.  He watched, along with everyone else as her tormentor teased her buttocks with the handle.  Running it slowly and teasingly up and down her crack – making her clench.

This set a fire to roaring in her shit-hole and she bounced up and down on her toes – doing a little “dance”.  It was sickening to her how easily they were able to make her humiliate herself.  Her tits continued to ooze and drip milk…

He ran the handle up and down the crack of her ass and then poked her with it to simulate sodomy.  She clenched her cheeks to deny him entry and whimpered at the violation.  Every time she clenched, it burned.

‘She has a big, fat, white ass – perfect for the whip’, her tormentor thought to himself as he studied the flesh before him.

He spent a moment and took each of her fat hinds in his hands and bounced them lewdly up and down.  The mob began howling like banshees at this.  Finally, he took a position behind her.

“Are you ready, cow,” he asked her?

“Oh God….no….please….no.”

He began whipping her, making the fan belt lashes land heavily on her full buttocks.  Each blow sounded like a firecracker.  He made sure he landed a few low – to strike her on the “crease” – the area between her butt cheeks and her thighs. He whipped the backs of her thighs too.  Soon her buttocks and thighs began to show the heavy marks of the belts with angry red stripes appearing after each blow.

She had begun to sweat heavily now too, and hugged the post, shaking under the lash.  Her sweat ran off her ….and as she pressed herself up the post, she compressed her tits and this made her breasts leak.  She was a wet and messy doll ……sweating and jerking in her bonds as each blow landed.

Erik kept looking and then turning away.  He was in hell too.  When he tried to turn away, Mutumbami had the two guards force him to watch as his wife was whipped.

Pamela grunted during the first five or six, and then began to groan and finally cry out as her tormentor really laid the whip on her.  She clenched her cheeks involuntarily, but the strap between her legs and the plug in her ass hurt so – she was working hard to concentrate and keep herself from clenching.

Without being able to tighten her asscheeks against the blows, they hurt so much more.  The caused a raw, red stripe to appear with each blow.  She lost control, at one point, and humped the post – like she was fucking it and this made the mob yowl in delight.

“Lookit the whore fuck the pole.”

She hugged the post and groaned in pain every time she lost control and clenched her butt cheeks.  As long as she didn’t squeeze her asshole, the capsicum burned low.  When she lost control, it flared up hot and nasty.

Her plump globes were alive as they jiggled and quivered in between blows as she tried to shake off the pain.  It was erotic, the way her ass cheeks danced.  The plug in her rectum, the strap tight in her crack and the belt landing on her butt made her dance, and got the mob to count the strokes, clapping and yelling at each one.

“Twelve….thirteen…..fourteen….fifteen.”

Her cheeks were on fire.  When a stroke landed on a fresh spot it hurt so badly.  When the tips landed in her crack, Pamela screamed in agony.

“Oooooooowwwwwwww…….ooooooooHHHHHH!”

“Oh God …OOhhhhh, Ooohhhh God…..oooowww…..uuuuhhhh,” she cried out.

Pamela began sobbing like a baby as the blows turned her ass into two red, raw slabs.  Her tormentor was a tall, lean thug with a long arm and he landed plenty of heavy ones on the full fat meaty portions of her ass.  Her butt was soon criss-crossed by red weals and swellings where the strokes had overlapped.

Her face was wet with tears when the count reached 25.  When he laid on five hot, hard ones fast – she fainted.  Mutumbami held up a finger to call a halt.  The leader nodded and stopped.  Pamela’s buttocks were thoroughly beaten.   Many of the weals would soon turn purple.

The mob’s blood lust had been given a shot when Pamela fainted.  They would have liked to have the woman turned over to them, but it was not to be, as the guards untied her and hustled her away.  The crowd would have liked more, but they had been given their little show.

Erik took his wife’s whipping very hard.  He cursed the ‘black devils’, as he called them under his breath.  He hung his head in pain and shame – his hands balled up into fists in his pocket.

Mutumbami stood in front of him and said, “Drop the suit, Mr. Pieters and avoid associating with the resistance.  What you’ve seen here today ….well….you don’t want to come back here again.  You be smart now.”

Eric was released.  Pamela was returned to him the next day.  She didn’t know he had seen her ordeal.  He didn’t want to admit, at first, that he had been forced to watch and couldn’t do a thing to help her.  She didn’t blame him, for she was a supportive wife.  Erik kept apologizing to her, feeling totally responsible for what happened to her.

Chapter 3

The Theater

Both of them tried to get on with their life, but two months later, after having written a letter to one of the white resistance newspapers, Erik got a call.  The voice warned him that he was courting trouble again and then hung up.  He was now on high alert.

He had to go to town and worried about leaving his wife alone.  So, he dropped Pamela off at friends so he could run his errands.  He was just getting out of his car when he was accosted on the street by three goons – state security types.

“Come with us,” they said as they cuffed him and whisked him off.  He soon realized where they were headed and he silently cursed his fate.  He knew that he was in for it.  But he hoped they had not gotten to Pamela.  The ride was a torment as he worried about what was in store for him.  He was taken directly to Mutumbami.

“Well, I see you didn’t take my advice,” the security chief said without a smile on his even black features.

“Look, Mutumbami, all I did was write a letter.”

“Yeah, that’s right.   You still don’t understand, do you?  Well…… when you do something we don’t like……you have to pay.  It’s that simple.  And it’s that time again,” he said with a lock of mock concern on his black face.

“Look, I’ll write another letter.  I’ll deny what I wrote.”

“It’s too late for that, Mr. Pieters.”

Mutumbami and two tall guards with facial scars took Erik over to the other side of the compound.  This was the wing where he’d heard someone being tortured. They brought him to a special room.  Other than two chairs, there was nothing in there but a big glass window covered by a curtain.  It was dark – there was no light in the room other than what shone in from the hall.

They sat him down in front of the curtain.  They bound him hand and foot to the chair.  Then they gagged him.  Once seated and bound, Mutumbami pulled up a chair to sit just behind him to his right.  He began chuckling.

This unnerved Erik, but what was behind the curtain really riveted him.  He had a feeling that Pamela was behind that curtain.  Then one of the guards closed the door and they were in the dark.  Some light shone thru the curtain.   There was another room on the other side of the window.

“This is a theater, Mr. Pieters,” Mutumbami announced to him.  “On the other side of the curtain is the stage.  You’re gonna see things there you’ve never seen before.  Things you won’t believe.  Things you won’t forget for as long as you live.  Let’s listen in first.”

There was a big speaker mounted on the wall to their right.  One of the guards went over and turned the dial on a small box by the light switch.  Erik could now hear voices.  It was two men and a woman.  He heard her voice – Pamela’s.  Teary, but hers.

“Oh PLEASE, LET ME UP….PLEASE, I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE….IT HURTS…..LET ME UP…PLEASE…..OW…OW…OW.”

Erik was totally transfixed at what he was hearing.  It was awful….but he wanted to see too.  He wanted to see what they were doing to her.

“Ah, your wife,” Mutumbami whispered from behind him. “Do you want to see her?”

Erik could only nod.  The guard went over to the curtain and pulled on the cord.  What greeted Erik’s anguished eyes was the sight of his wife, seated on a wooden armless chair.  Her hands had been pulled behind her through the chair’s slats and secured with handcuffs.

She was wearing shorts and a sleeveless white blouse, but they’d pulled down her shorts and her panties so that she was sitting on her bare ass.  Her blouse had been pulled open and her tits were out of the bra cups.  Her nipples were swollen and puffy.  A guard sat next to her on a stool with a bored look on his face.

Pamela’s eyes were shut.  It was obvious she was in pain.  Erik didn’t see it at first, but then one of the guards pulled her legs up and propped them up on a box, that’s when Erik saw what was hurting her.

She was sitting on a wooden wedge with a very sharp edge.  It was fixed it to the seat and her tender pussy slit and ass crack were being cleaved by the sharp edge of that wedge, with nothing to protect her.  Now with her feet up, there was even more pressure on her slit.  They had been letting her sit for awhile and now they propped her legs up to make it hurt in a different way.

“Please ….Please…PLEASE…..it hurts…..please…let me up…PLEASE.”

She squirmed on the hurtful wedge.

“Watch this,” one guard said to his comrade as he pushed the play button on a portable tape recorder he had in his hand.  As Erik watched, the sound of a baby crying could be heard.  As soon as Pamela heard it, her breasts began to swell and then spray milk.  They had taped her baby crying and now, her “let down” response kicked in.

The guard, with the recorder, came over and tapped on her swollen tits.  They were full and tight.

“They’re tight as a drum, aren’t they, cow?”

“Oh God…..they hurt….let me go please.  Pamela had finished nursing her son about 30 minutes before they picked her up.  Now that she could hear him crying, her breasts responded and they filled with milk for a nursing session.  Unless they were emptied, her tits would soon ache….

He put down the recorder and picked up a glass jar.  He held it up in front of her face and said to her, “you’re gonna need to have those big milk pots emptied….isn’t that right, cow?’

“Oh God….let me go…..please…..”

He grabbed her right tit by the aureole and began squeezing and pulling her nipple to milk her.  Just like the udder on a cow.  Pamela began spraying into the jar.

“Please, that’s for my son…..this is wrong….please….”

“I’m gonna give your milk to my dog,” he said leering at her.

He continued to milk first one tit and then the other.  Squeezing and pulling ……..Pamela kept her eyes closed as it was a huge humiliation to have this done to her. When he had the jar half-full, he stopped.

“You play with her,” he said to the other guard.

“No…..please don’t ……please,” Pamela begged.

The other man licked his lips and bent down to bite and then suck on her left tit.  He worked at draining that one, before he switched to her right tit.

It hurt when he bit them and it made her cry out.  When he began sucking on them like a baby, it felt good to her to have them drained, but the sheer mortification she felt as having a kaffir thug doing it was a torment.  He continued until he had his fill from both of Pamela’s big, brown teats and then he sat down on the stool again next to her.

He picked up a stick, about 18” long with three split ends.  Grinning evilly at her, he smacked her right tit with it.  It made a sick sound when it landed; and the blow indented the soft flesh of her breast.  The split ends trapped and pinched her leaky nipple.

“Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh,oooooowwwww,” Pamela moaned.

Erik sat there in agony.  He writhed and struggled in his bonds, seeing what they were doing to Pamela.  He felt so helpless.  Pamela started sobbing again, like a little girl. The wedge in her crack was hurting more the longer she sat on it.  The edge had chafed her pussy, perineum, and anus until she could not sit still. There was nothing she could do to make it hurt less.  And when she moved, the guard grinned at her and smacked her tits in turn.

When he held up the stick, menacing her with it, her face was filled with fear as she looked first at the stick and then at him.  Each cruel ‘smack’ made a sick sound when he smacked her puffy nipple with it.

“OOOOHHH….UHH….OH….OH, THAT HURTS…..OHHHH!”

Every time he hit her, the impact of the blow made her tit ripple with pain.  And when he got the three split ends right on her nipple, it pinched it painfully.  After being struck a dozen times, Pamela’s nipples had swollen up so much – they were the size and color of big, purple grapes.   Her nipples being wet with her milk had made the blows hurt even more….

“Please stop….please….please….it hurts…..oh….oh…it hurts.”

Mutumbami edged closer to Erik and whispered to him, “I’m gonna keep her on that seat for another hour.”

The other guard said something to Pamela that Erik couldn’t hear.  But it got a reaction from her, because she began sobbing harder.  Then he began milking her again into the jar.  He had about 5 ounces filling it now.  He joked with the guard about feeding it to his dog…… or did his comrade want to drink it?

After 5 or ten minutes of milking her, he let the other guard smack her sweaty tits again.  She winced and groaned after each blow.  He went back to work on her nipples and treated them to plenty of hot smacks.  He took his time – working methodically to hurt her.

Pamela continued to sob as he whipped her over and over again on both nipples.  She had nursed all her children and felt that her breasts were her most female possessions.  They were for her husband’s pleasure and to feed her babies.  Now, they were providing sick perverted pleasure to these savages.  Pamela was tormented in mind and body….

Erik was beside himself behind the glass – revolted by what he saw.  Mutumabami kept him watching his wife being punished for another hour.  By that time, Pamela was sobbing and begging them like a child as the two guards had fun with her.

The guard who had milked her grabbed Pamela by the hair. He unzipped his khaki shorts and pulled out his cock and balls.  She stared at his rampant erection right in her face.   His hard penis reared up from the kinky black hair at his groin.  He stroked the shaft, rolling the foreskin back so the glans showed shiny, red and polished with the wetness already leaking from the tip.

He grinned as he enjoyed displaying his hard, hot dick to her.  She was obviously intimidated by his rampant cock….his powerful black maleness.  She had never seen a black dick before.  In fact, Pamela had never seen another male organ but her husband’s and the penises of her two boys.  She was surprised at the organ’s size; it was longer and thicker than her husband’s.

He began rubbing the head of his cock all over Pamela’s face – smearing his pre-cum in little snail trails all over her face.  Then, upping the degradation level higher, he forced her mouth open, yanked her head around by the hair and made her take it in her mouth.  He got her mouth engulfing his hot, hard dick.  The other guard took out his longer, but slimmer penis and stroking it.  He watched and his erection grew at what Pamela was being forced to do.

And when she flattened her tongue so he could run the length of his dick over its silky surface, getting it wet and harder, the guard winked at his comrade and chuckled at her sluttish behavior.  Soon the man had his dick all the way in her mouth and she was sucking on it like a baby….

At first she couldn’t take much of his length into her mouth.  Sucking and working it with her tongue and lips, she wanted him to please him so he wouldn’t hurt her tits anymore.  But when his cock touched the back of her throat, Pamela gagged.  Then he grabbed her by the hair in one hand and with his dick in the other, made her take more of it.  Pamela’s mouth began drooling……getting all wet and messy.

Soon, he was forcing his whole cock into her mouth – just face fucking her.  He would do that for a few moments, and then give her a chance to breathe.

He commanded her, “Suck it”.

With her hot mouth engulfing his organ, it reached its full erect size, and taking the whole thing became a challenge for her.  He forced it to the opening to her throat – past the back of her tongue and this made her gag over again and again.

Erik was beside himself.  He was in a state of shock seeing his wife having to suck a kaffir’s dick.  He stared and hated himself for looking!

Pamela coughed and gagged and he took it out to let her get a breath.  With her eyes tearing, her nose running and her mouth salivating like mad, she was a sloppy mess.  He let her catch her breath and then he grabbed her hair – yanked her head around a little and then holding his dick in one hand like a weapon – forced her to suck it again.

When she sucked him expertly, he praised her.  When she displeased him, he took his dick out of her mouth and slapped her face with it.  It was very humiliating…..

When he went slowly, she only gagged a little.  But when he began reaming her faster and deeper, she drooled and gagged, coughed and sputtered.  Her throat muscles tightened involuntarily every time she felt his big dick touch the back of her tongue.  She struggled to control her gag reflex, but it was very hard.

He grabbed her head in both hands and fucked her mouth.  The slow, rhythmic pace was gone.  Pamela began to feel that she was going to choke.  Her throat tightened up, no matter how hard she tried to relax.  She was drooling madly; her saliva dripped down to wet her milky tits….

Pamela tried not choking on all the saliva and pre-cum pooling in her mouth.  She couldn’t swallow it all, so it just dribbled and ran over her lips and down her chin, getting her tits sloppy and messy too.  When his hips did a little jig and he ejaculated, it squirted out of the corners of her mouth.  He made her swallow his load.  She coughed when it was over and it was a very sloppy cough.

The second guard used his dick to tease the wet, sore tips of her tits.  When he was able to make her squirt a little milk, he made sure to smear his pre-cum with her milk.  Then, he put his dick in her mouth to make her clean it.  He came very quickly in her mouth and when he was done spurting hotly and wetly into her mouth, he let her spit it up.

Most of his semen and her saliva landed on her tits. He used the head of his dick to wipe it up, and get some of her milk mixed with it.  Then, he presented it to her mouth.  Fearing another beating on her sore nipples, Pamela dutifully licked him clean.  He repeated it making her swallow most of the semen she spilled.

Finally, they released her from her bonds.  She could barely stand from the pain between her legs and had to walk with her legs held open.  Her breasts….the tips were so sore and swollen from being roughly milked and beaten that she couldn’t stand to put her bra back on.  She would find her next nursing session with her baby a very uncomfortable experience.

“That’s your lesson for today, Mr. Pieters,” Mutumbami told him when they took his wife out. “Your wife will have to pay us a visit every time you do something we don’t like.  Make sure you don’t force us to pick her up again.”

Then they released him.  Later that day, Pamela was dropped off at the front gate of their farm.  Erik toyed with the idea of not telling her that he had witnessed her ordeal, but in the end he confessed that he had been a witness.  He held and comforted her.  The next day Pamela told Eric that from now on, he needed to lay low and not cause trouble.  This started an argument, as Erik had been stubborn all his life and didn’t cotton to bending before the “kaffirs” as he called them.

Erik was also upset seeing how his wife had sucked their two cocks so expertly.  He knew she had been forced, but it disturbed him all the same.  What Mutumbami was doing to them was slowly destroying them as a family….

“Unless you want to see me hurt and molested again, you need to back off,” Pamela told him angrily.   She was frustrated and frightened.

“Of course I don’t want anything else to happen to you, sweetheart, but do we want to give in to these dogs?”

Husband and wife continued to argue.  Pamela had been thoroughly intimidated by her experience at the hands of the kaffirs.  She had always feared the blacks; and had been ready to believe all the myths about them.  What they did to her had affected her.  She had never been in a situation where she was the mercy of cruel men.  It made a huge impression on her.   She didn’t want to be back in that room again either.   So, she begged Eric to back off, but he was not ready to lie down.

Chapter 4

The Breeding Session

And so, two months later, he was back in the “theater” – bound and gagged in the dark facing the dreaded curtain.  He was dragged there screaming and kicking this time.

“I have a report that you went to that rally.  That group is full of racists and troublemakers, Mr. Pieters.  You knew when you went there; you were going to have to pay.  So, you’re back here again.  And now it’s time for more punishment, Mr. Pieters,” Mutumbami told him.

The closed curtain was ominous.  Eric sat there in the dark, shaking.

Mutumbami leaned in close and whispered to him, “Shall we listen in again, Mr. Pieters?”

Erik groaned and hung his head.  He knew that his stubborn ways had put his wife in jeopardy before.  Now he wondered what they would do to Pamela this time.  The guard went to the speaker control on the wall and turned it up.  Instantly this is what Erik heard:

“Get your panties off.”

There was the sound of Pamela whimpering and then a ‘slap’ was heard.  And then the sound of little girl weeping.  His wife was crying again.  Erik’s eyes began to tear up when he heard this.

Mutumbami, seeing Eric’s response, motioned to the guard to open the curtain.  Here is what he saw: there was a table and a bed covered with a dirty mattress in the room now.  And there was Pamela and three men.  She was looking at them with fear in her eyes.  She had already taken off her blouse, bra and skirt.

Erik winced as he watched his wife having to strip on command for them.  She was standing there in her panties and looked so vulnerable.  She was holding her tits in her hands.  She was blushing and horrified as her nipples had erected again from fear and shame.   Mutumbami knew that the sexual fear of blacks was a potent weapon to use against whites.  Abusing a white woman, and in front of he husband was the ultimate.

‘He was right’, Erik thought to himself miserably. ‘I’m seeing things in this room I’ve never seen before – and I don’t want to see, ever!”

They played the tape of her baby crying again.  And once again, Pamela felt the humiliation of having her breasts swell up, leak and then spray her milk.  They subjected her to a painful milking again.  Two of the men bit and sucked on her tits and the other man milked her into a jar…..squeezing and pulling on her teats like she was a cow.

“Please don’t do this to me,” she pleaded….”My milk is for my son.”

“Take off your panties, cow,” the leader commanded her.

Pamela was slow to respond.

“Get them off, cow,” he barked at her.

Pamela slowly reached down and hooked her thumbs into the band of her cotton panties and pulled them down.  When she was naked, she didn’t know what to do with her hands.  She kept opening and closing them rapidly and then wringing them nervously.

“Bend over the table. And spread your legs,” he said to her.

Humiliated, she shuffled over to the table.  She bent over and lay down.  Her pussy was fully exposed in this position.  Pamela had a hairy cunt with prominent labia and a tight brown asshole nestled in her crack.  The grove between her full, fat buttocks was darker than the surrounding skin, which was snow white.

Then, the guards dropped their trousers and shorts to reveal three large black uncircumcised dicks.  Pamela alternated with closing her eyes and sneaking glances at their cocks as they were revealed.  Each man was lean and hard with skin so black it was almost purple.  Erik groaned as he saw what was coming and was helpless….so helpless to prevent it.

Already hard, their dicks pointed up and look like truncheons.  Pamela licked her lips nervously.  One of the men came over and began to grab and squeeze her breasts, making her squirt again.  He took his time as he squashed her tits and pushed her thighs further apart to explore her sex.  Erik could see his wife’s wet labia, glistening as the man forced two big black fingers inside her sexhole.

He rooted around, exploring the size and feel of her hole.  It was obvious she didn’t need any lubrication.  When he pulled his fingers out, they were connected to Pamela’s sex hole by long thick strings of vaginal mucus.  He jammed his fingers back in and was soon finger-fucking her steadily.

‘Please….Please….OH GOD…please….don’t do let them do this to her. PLEASE’, Erik prayed silently to himself.

“Notice how big their cocks are, Mr. Pieters.  In a few moments one of them is going to be stretching your wife’s pussy,” Mutumbami murmured to him.

“OH….GOD NO……PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME,” Pamela wailed!

“I’ll bet it makes your little prick hard to see your wife getting ready to be fucked like a slut by these black men Mr. Pieters,” Mutumbami taunted him.  The cruel black man sat like a wraith just behind him and kept taunting Erik….trying to cause him as much mental pain as possible.

“Look at your wife’s face as he fingers her pussy.  Look how she parts her thighs for him.  And this is just the beginning.   Look how wet her cunt is already -  dripping.  Look at that!”

The leader took his turn fucking Pamela.  He kept her bent over with her elbows on the table and her head between her hands.  Her piss flaps glistened wetly in the overhead light partly hidden by the thick mat of dark brown pubic hair guarding her nest.

Erik could see him enter his wife’s vagina.  He was amazed and sickened when his wife began to moan.  The man’s large organ went in deep and he took his time to work her cunt with it.  Pamela’s moans were keyed to what he did to her with his cock.  When he forced it in deep, she groaned.

When he pounded her fast and hard, the tall blonde mother began to go, “Uh…Uh….Uh….Uh….uH…Uh….Uh…..uh….OH….OH….OHHHHHH!”

“Erik, look at the size of his dick.  Look at how he fucks your wife.   What a dirty SLUT she’s becoming,” Mutumbami laughed, as he sat behind him.

He kept tormenting Erik, especially when he noticed that there was a bulge in his trousers.

“I think you like the show, Mr. Pieters,” is how Mutumbami put it.

Just then, light spilled into the room for a moment as another person entered and closed the door.  It was a lithe young black woman.  Mutumbami had arranged for her.  As Erik watched the man rape his wife, this woman pulled up a chair next to him and, to his horror, began to unzip his trousers.

Following this she exposed his manhood.  His eyes went wide, then he jerked against the straps binding him, when he felt her take his hold of his penis.  He heard her breathing gently near his ear as she took his penis in hand and began to play with his prick and stroke him.

Erik was already fairly erect when she entered the room.  Now that she was gently masturbating him, he groaned.  He didn’t want to be aroused.  He was ashamed that he’d gotten excited watching what they were doing to his wife.  But, it was almost impossible now to will his penis to go down – not with what the girl was doing to him.   Mutumbami wanted to mind fuck him totally.  And being masturbated while he was forced to watch his wife being raped was a terrible punishment.

And so, gently and slowly, this young woman, about 19 or 20, kept sliding her hand up and down the shaft of Erik’s penis.  As his prick began to drool pre-cum, she spread it all over the head and underneath on his frenulum to wet the sweet spot.  When she sensed he was getting too close to cumming, she slowed down or stopped.  She had been instructed by Mutumbami to stretch Erik’s masturbation for as long as she could.  In effect, torture him.

As this was going on, the leader came in Pamela’s pussy and kept his cock deep in her sheath to trap his load.  Pamela was sweating and moaning when he pulled his big dick out.  Then she closed her thighs and put her knuckle up against her mouth, to bite on it aimlessly.  She seemed to be in another world.  He brought his slimy genitalia around to her face.

“Clean it,” he said to her simply.

He made her use her mouth to clean his dick, balls, and inner thighs of all traces of sweat, semen and her vaginal secretions.  Then the second man started in on her.

When the first man had her cleaning his cock, the second man moved between her legs and took his turn.  When the second man finished dumping his load of potent semen into her cunt he came over to have his cock and balls cleaned.

Mutumbami then told Erik, sitting on his other side and just behind him, “My men are trying to impregnate her, Mr. Pieters,” he cruelly told him.

“What he’s doing is making it easier for his sperm to reach your wife’s eggs.”

Erik watched as the man scooped out some of the first two men’s cum with his fingers from his wife’s pussy.  He grabbed her by the hair and made her open her mouth; then he wiped the other men’s semen on her tongue and then suck his fingers clean.  It was so disturbing to Erik….

“I’ve picked more than 20 of my best men to fuck your wife silly this afternoon.  They’re gonna fuck the shit out of her until she’s pregnant with a black baby in her belly.”

Erik groaned in his gag.  As he looked, the third man now had his cock in Pamela’s pussy and was pounding away.  He struggled not to cry.  Just then he saw the door open and watched six new men pour in – full of high spirits, laughing and slapping palms. They came in and started to drop their trousers.  The sound of their zippers opening was a horror for Erik.

To think that each and every one of them was going to fuck his wife was torture.  Erik was in hell.  When he looked up another black man was standing behind his wife’s ass – a very tall Zulu warrior type – who sported a long weapon of a cock.

Over and over Pamela had to take one cock after another in her fertile vagina as Erik watched in horror, unable to turn away for even a moment.  He was riveted that he might miss something.  He knew that this was etching the worst horror on his mind – watching men fuck his wife and seeing how she responded.

It was as if he was, in some weird way, hungry for more humiliation.  And the young black woman next to him, squeezed and stroked is penis – making it leak pre-cum.

Soon, Pamela was fuck happy.  They had worked her into such a state that she cried out for more, screaming in sheer uncontrolled lust.

“Fuck me!  Fuck me!  Fuck me you dirty sons of bitches! FUCK ME….FUCK ME….FUCK ME…. Cum in my pussy! CUM IN MY PUSSY….  I’m cumming… cumming…..I’M CUMMING….I’M CUMMMMMMMMMING!

Except for giving her some water Pamela was kept on her belly or on her back.  Her pussy became so sloppy with semen, that most of the men when they stepped up for their turn, wiped her down, before they would put their dick in her.  They used a towel for this and each time someone used it to clean her pussy, it became more soaked and disgusting.  Some of them took to stuffing the nasty, soiled cloth into Pamela’s mouth before they fucked her.

Men stood around and critiqued each other’s performance.  Or cheered their comrades on, especially when one of them made her cum or humped her like a demon.  And, Pamela came frequently, as they took turns with her.  Much to her husband’s shame….

When this group was done, another five or six big, strong men showed up.  Some men fucked her from behind with her bent over the table.  Some pushed her to the bed and fucked her with her legs on their shoulders.  Sometimes, when she came, her tits squirted and sprayed her milk.

It was a very humiliating gang rape.  They were rough with her and pulled and pushed her around like a doll.  They all fucked her liked they hated her.  When this group had done the deed, another squad came in to take their place…..

One of the men in this squad was a huge rhino of a man – muscular but with a big gut.  He was at least 6’6” and maybe as tall as 6’8” and probably weighed between 275 and 300 lbs.

When he got his turn with Pamela, he smiled from ear-to-ear.  His cock was half-hard and even then, it was enormous.  Pamela, who had been fucked by 14 men at that point, and whose pussy was loose and packed with semen, looked at it and her eyes popped open.

He had a monster between his legs in a room full of big, hard, hot dicks.  He wiped Pamela’s pussy as clean as she could….and then with her on her back on the mattress, he pushed her legs to her milky tits and then got them on his shoulders.   His dick, as he got her ready, kept lengthening and stiffening.

He grabbed it – pulled the foreskin back and forth and said, “well, white cow – you’re gonna get stretched now….”

Pamela moaned as she looked down and saw how big and thick it was. It was now fully erect.  It was at least a foot long and as big around as his wrist, which was considerable.  It seemed even thicker than it was long…..

“Oh, God….it’s so big,” was all she said.

She felt him rub her swollen, purple labia with the head of his huge dick.  He took his time and worked it into her pussy.  In a little….then out….then back in.  Erik couldn’t believe it would ever fit in his wife’s cunt.  Pamela had accepted her fate and was relaxing her sloppy wet vagina as much as she could to allow him access to her womanly depths.

He took a few minutes to work his dick in.  When it was about ¾ of the way he began to fuck her slowly.  Pamela kept up a steady stream of moans, grunts and cries as his big cock ironed out all the wrinkles in her cunt.  After a few minutes, when it had gotten it almost all the way in, he began to really put it to her.  He had stretched her so wide that even her labia were pushed into her sex-hole on the in-stroke.

Most the semen that remained in her vagina was forced out of her moist folds as his thick shaft stretched her like a fat snake squeezing itself into a small hole.

Her pussy juice and the semen from the other men wet his cock and could be seen streaking his coal black monster as he plowed her at different speeds.

He fucked her for all he was worth to be the one to make her belly swell.  Pamela began to howl like an animal when he really pounded her.  Then with a roar, he came and streams of semen were forced out of her as he pumped his cum deep into her hole.

The young girl jerking Erik off sped up her masturbation.  As Erik got closer to ejaculating, she played his penis like a violin.  She’d already made his penis drool so much his balls were wet.  When his breathing and stiffening posture told her he was ready, she jerked him off fast for a few strokes and then slow…..then went – slow – fast – slow -fast until he ejaculated.

It happened just about the same time as the big man was hosing Pamela full.   Erik came like his soul was spurting thru his penis.  He groaned into the gag as the girl milked him sweetly all thru his spasms.  It was actually one of the most physically satisfying orgasms of his life.

When the big man finally withdrew, Erik could see that Pamela’s cunt stayed open.  He could see up her vaginal sheath.  Rivers of semen ran and then drooled from her stretched cunt mouth to form a puddle between her ass cheeks on the dirty mattress.

He brought his softening monster over for Pamela to clean.  Erik watched as his wife dutifully licked the man’s balls, shaft and cockhead clean of her secretions and his semen.  This group having done its duty, the men dressed and left and the last squad showed up.  Pamela groaned when she saw more men unzipping their shorts.  They got her bending over the table and fucked her from behind, slamming their dicks into her hard and fast.  Pamela came again….

The girl continued to play with Erik, as this was happening and he got erect again.  Watching Pamela take cock after cock, he could not help himself and even though it was terribly embarrassing, the young girl was able to jerk him off again to completion.  She left him with his lap wet and splattered with his semen.

When it was all over, Erik’s lovely wife of 18 years had been fucked by 21 men.  They had filled her pussy to overflowing and beyond.  She had been in a world of soul-shattering uterine orgasms that surged from her pussy down her legs and up to her breastbone.

The “breeding session” over – Pamela lolled soaked and drenched in sweaty exhaustion on the soiled mattress.  She whimpered softly, moving her knees together and apart, waving them gently as her cunt spasmed and drooled its pearly treasure.  Her pubic hair was plastered down with sweat, her pussy juices (she had squirted several times) and semen.  It was all over her inner thighs and had run down her ass crack.  She was a mess…

“Her pussy if so full….it’s kind of disgusting, don’t you think,” Mutumbami taunted Erik.

Finished with her for the day, Pamela would be allowed to sleep and let the hot sperm find its way into her fertile womb and her eggs.  The silence after the last group of men left was deafening.  It was only then that Mutumbami released Erik and had the guards take him back to where they picked him up.

They kept his wife for another week to make sure she was impregnated; and to use her as a sex slave to reward the guards and field agents.  When she came home, they both cried in pain, shame and humiliation at what had been done to her.  But what Erik had seen started another argument.  He was horrified that she had cum by being raped.  He accused her of betraying him.  Pamela, defensive about what had happened, wanted him to simply accept that sometimes a woman can’t control how her body reacts to such stimulation.

Between this issue and Pamela wanting him to back off, they argued bitterly.  Erik wanted to examine his wife’s body.  She didn’t want him to do that.  She felt violated and was uncomfortable letting him; but Erik was persistent.

She seemed “OK” until he looked closer.   Then the marks on her inner thighs, the bite marks on her tits and her swollen nipples testified to the fact she had been used hard and put up wet.  But her pussy told the whole tale.  Her pissflaps were still swollen and purple….her clitoris seemed enlarged as it peeked out of its hood and her vagina was slightly open and a little slack.

And she didn’t want to have intercourse with her husband.  She told him she felt too violated.  This started another argument.

A week later, five security guards came to their farm house and despite Erik’s protests; Pamela was brought back for a second “breeding session”.  Once a week for the next two weeks, Pamela was “detained” at the Bulawayo camp for her “breeding”.  And there was nothing Erik could do about it.  For her part, Pamela dreaded the experience, but each time she experienced the hottest, most mind-blowing orgasms and this caused her much mental pain and guilt.

After four such sessions, Pamela missed her next two periods, and her belly began to swell.  She was sick in the morning and her doctor confirmed it:  she was pregnant.  Her belly grew with a dark “pregnancy line” down the middle as the black fetus grew within her uterus.

Several times, during the next few months, Joshua Mutumbami had Pamela brought to the compound for fun and games.  He had begun to realize that the big, sturdy blonde was physically enjoying being ravaged.  It gave him a sick pleasure to continue to degrade her this way, knowing it was probably destroying her relationship with her husband.

Since she was now pregnant with a black child, they had taken to fucking her in the mouth and ass.  When she let Erik examine her, after these visits…. and he looked at her ass, her angry brownish-red anal sphincter was mute evidence that she had been repeatedly sodomized.  Her anus had been stretched into a raw “O”, like a toothless mouth.

Pamela eventually delivered a healthy nine-pound baby boy and nursed him for a year and a half.  They had no choice but for her to carry the baby to term and raise him, when Mutumbami told them both that they had to do just that.  He warned Erik if anything happened to that baby, it would cost him his life.  So the additional humiliation of Pamela having to bear and raise a black baby was forced on them as a family.

Erik was nearly out of his mind with what they had done to his wife and his whole family, but he promised his wife he would lie low.  But in time he did something that angered the government and was brought back to the “theater” for another hellish show.

This was the worst session.  They had abducted his blonde 16- year old daughter and brought her to the “theater” for a “breeding session”.  Seeing his baby girl, Diana, forced to take one big, black dick in her virginal pussy after the other, finally broke him.  He never again did anything that attracted government attention.

©2008 Shabbadew2002