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first part of new torture story
Married Bliss.....Eva's Honeymoon.
.............from the Cellar of Screams to the House of Her Dreams............
A New Adventure for the Ultra Sadistic Blonde and her Happy Husband.
This is a story containing themes of brutal torture and snuff. It is totally disgusting, themes of impossible cruelty, and degenerate violence of the most horrid kind.....so do not read any further unless you are a very depraved sadist who is not shocked by tales of women being mercilessly killed for evil pleasure.
It is wildly fictional, unfortunate victims enduring hours of agony when in reality they would have died ages ago.
In imagination, horrors such as these can safely be exorcised without harming a soul.
The main characters first appeared in Cellar of Screams, a long and equally disgusting story, and reading it first would give you some background information you may find arousing.
.................................................. .................................................. .................................................. ...........
I suppose you want to know a bit about Murdoch and Eva before we start.
Eva is a very good looking tall blonde aged twenty-six, often defined by others as a Nordic beauty. Educated in a convent school, she found the stories of the trials and tribulations suffered by female martyrs strangely disturbing, later realizing that any story of women suffering gave her a sensual arousal. In her late teens she was a complete but secret pervert, feeling guity and ashamed of her depraved desires, and not letting herself become involved in liasons with either sex as she knew she was an out-cast from normality, finding intense masturbatory pleasure from dreams of women being horribly tortured.
Into her twenties, and enjoying solace from finding out that other unknown people had the same ******* ideas, she tried advertising in a reputable contact magazine and met a wealthy aristoctat, Sir Murdoch Fines, over twice her age, but with actual sadistic experience his wealth enabled him to enjoy. Murdoch was married, his gentile wife mainly living in their Scottish estate. She knew her husband enjoyed bedding other women, and it did not bother her as long as it was not in the public eye. Whether she knew of his far more sinister adventures is not certain. She certainly did not know about the secure sound-proofed dungeon flat built below his London home.
Eva became his mistress, soon finding out that her most evil desires did not shock or offend the older man, but turned him on to impressive sexual prowess....indeed, he quickly trusted her enough to share his dungeon with unfortunate young women who would never leave the cellar alive.............
Eva did not move in with Sir Murdoch, but had a very nice flat which he provided. His work often entailed foreign travel, frequently accompanied by his good lady wife, and Eva had her own life, too, working in a publishing house.
She also had a lady friend, Laura Brannigan, a rather big dominant Lesbian who loved talking really cruel sadistic talk but actually only wanted to employ a light whip or something equally harmless on the few subby friends who came to her flat for a spank and some hot pussy loving. Eva had often wondered how Laura would react if she had any idea that she, Eva, had actually killed three young women in vile and disgusting ways.
The last two victims were dead, bodies dismembered and furnaced, and Murdoch was off to the States with his dear wife for a month or so, leaving Eva to get on with a suddenly very boring existence after such extremes of murderous lust.
Which brings us up to date.....................now the story continues :-
Chapter One. Laura ,Piglet and Someone New.
Maureen lay on the bed, face down and spread-eagled as usual. The twenty four year old had been out with Laura for a nice meal at the Trocadero, and now they would have an hour or so of fem-dom
fun before Maureen went home. As usual, Laura had the green wellies on and Piglet wore her blind fold. It was their "thing"....Laura was the farmers wife, Maureen was Piglet, and always had to be mistreated before the pussy licking started. A couple of months ago, happening to come round just as Piglet was about to be spanked by Laura, Eva had joined in and used the most horrifying threats to the bound and blind-folded Piglet. Laura had nearly wet herself, sure that her masochistic lover would be disgusted by the awful things Eva said, but to her amazement, the verbal abuse had made the bound "captive" squeal with pleasure. Since then, Laura had tried talking dirty in this very peculiar way, too, and Maureen loved it.
"Now, you fat little porker, I'm sharpening my knife before I take a slice or two off those nice round cheeks down here !" ( slap on the pert wriggling bottom ! ) "Then I'll cut out some prime pussy loin steak for a special treat, maybe carve a nice slice of piggy breast for starters !"
Laura used quite a lot of force as she slapped her partners backside during the verbal tormenting. They did not use a chicken word, knowing each other well enough not to need a get out word. Maureen liked quite a lot of beating on her bottom, enough to get it glowing a healthy pink. She liked to have to get into her car afterwards very carefully because her rear was feeling as if it was on fire. Every bump in the road going home made her wince and sent a sexy tingle into her pussy zone.
"Maybe I ought to gut you first and drain your piggy blood for black sausages!" Laura growled, getting on the bed to straddle her naked playmate. She squatted facing Maureens feet so she could start to whip the twin mounds of plump buttock meat with her short plastic lash that stung like hell but did no more than raise an angry blush on the leaping cheeks.
"Cut your fucking udders off" Laura grunted, the savagery of the words sending little electrical spasme between her own vaginal walls, "Slit your dirty piggy pussy open up to your belly button!"
Maureen squealed, in what was actually a fair representation of a frightened porker, wriggling her bound body as if in desperate fear, and quivering with excitement, her pussy leaking juice onto Laura's sheets.
They wanted relief.....and Laura unfastened the Velcro ankle and wrist straps holding her lover down, then their bodies rolled and squirmed on the bed, tongues, fingers, mashing breasts, moans and cries as they sought to give each other the release of engulfing pleasure that sent those violent trembling shudders racing to the extremities, tingling sparks like electric shocks that burst in shattering internal firework displays, coursing spasms of delight round each others bodies in a mutual glory of release that had them laughing and gasping, utterly shattered, wrapped in each others arms as their pounding hearts slowly resumed a normal cadence.
The sheets would certainly need changing now, soaked from uncontrolled spurts and flows of passion juice.
Maureen was dressed and made up, her bottom tingling nicely as she prepared to leave her lover. "Hey, what happened with that blonde girl I met here that time ?" she asked. "The one who talked so dirty ?"
"Eva ? Oh, I still see her from time to time. Why ?" Laura asked.
"Well, it's just that....well, we had a really great session when she was here....I mean, I'm not wanting to make you jealous, or anything, but....well, I wouldn't mind another three-some sometime with the two of you. What d'you think ?"
Laura kissed her goodbye. "Sounds like fun. I'll see if she's available."
Actually, seeing Eva again would be rather nice.......
Eva would have been overjoyed to have been sharing a bed with the two of them if she had been invited. As things were, she was having a rather boring time at the moment. Her wicked lover, Murdoch, was still away in America. He paid for the rather nice flat she now had, of course, but whilst he was away, her powerfully corrupt passions had no out-let.
At work, for a publishing firm, she was a demure young woman, always resisting the many overtures from the male staff.....she was, after all, a cracking looking blonde any red-blooded man would want to bed.....and refusing the frequent offers of nights out with both male and female staff made her seem a bit frigid to her workmates.
She wasn't being stand-offish, it was just that her own interests were so depraved that she found normal chit chat and socialising a bore.
There was no-one she could even talk to about what really interested her, and so she spent her nights alone, watching the sort of private DVD's and tapes on her widescreen television that would have got her sent to prison if anyone ever found out. Indeed, just like the secret cellars in Murdochs' house, she had her own concealed hide-away to keep her collection of evil pornography safe from almost anything but the total demolition of her flat.
Of course, there was Laura.
They had met after some discreet personal advertising. At least with her, Eva could talk about the things that turned her on, even though she couldn't let her Lesbian friend know that she had actually done things like that for real.
And Laura could do things to her cunt that even the experienced Murdoch could not master. Yes....she would give Laura a ring. She had just down-loaded some Italian Fumetti that she had not seen before.....nice pictures of a girl cutting another girls tits off and pushing a red hot iron up her pussy ......... Yes,Laura would like to see those.
They made it for the week-end, to spend all of Sunday together, hopefully asking Piggy Maureen to join them for a three-some in the evening.
Anyone seeing them out shopping together in the West End would never have thought they were perverts. Laura, a bit of a chunky lady, looked like a well bred country girl, and the tall leggy blonde at her side seemed more the Kensington polo set, quite diferent, but comfortable in each others presence.
They lunched at the Strand Hotel, did The London Dungeon, getting much more pleasure from seeing the collection of Medieval torture devices than most visitors ever did, walked the length of Regent Street, then dropped below ground at Oxford Circus to tube back to Lauras' flat for tea.
On with the computer, and they sat together, legs apart, panties already removed, seeking drawings of cruel brutality on various web sites that specialised in such things. Indeed, there were lots to choose from, so many that both of them found it remarkable how difficult it was to actually meet anyone who admitted to liking pictures of pretty girls being tortured when there were literally hundreds of pages on the web all about that subject.
And like many others, they speculated on how strange it was that you might be speaking to someone over the counter at the supermarket who went home and got their sexual excitement from videos of lovely girls in bondage, yet there was no way you were ever going to know you were kindred spirits.
"I know Dykes," Laura smiled. "Not always, of course, but there are lots of give-aways we see in each other. And that's not so bad now-adays. No-one wants to lock you up if you make a mistake and let them know you are gay when they aren't."
Eva giggled. "I know, but to say to someone I love seeing girls tortured is not really in the same league."
The bell rang.
Piglet, alias Maureen, was delighted to see the tall blonde again. No false modesty here. They had sucked each others cunts and come like whores so false modesty was a total waste of time.
She joined the conversation, quickly removing her underclothes. Soon they were all naked, and Maureen was squealing for mercy as Laura whipped her breasts with a cellophane lash and Eva launched into a horrifying account of how she was going to stretch Maureens nipples with fish hooks, burn them over candle flames until the fat bubbled out of her aureoles and the milk glands oozed boiling fluid, then slice them off a millemetre at a time and feed them to her dog......
A very good Sunday night was thoroughly enjoyed by three very diferent women who all shared to some degree a fascination with the darker side of human sexuality...........
"Take these down to the front desk, Tommy. A courier should be waiting," Eva smiled, handing a sheaf of proofs over to a tall young man who worked in despatch. She smiled inwardly as she saw his eyes drop to her slightly parted blouse, linger for a moment on her ample cleavage, then skitter hurriedly down to admire her short business black skirt and her patent black Chelsea boots. It only took a moment, and she knew he was thinking how she would look naked. It gave her a momentary warmth inside. As usual, her next thought was to wonder what he would say if she said she would like to help him cut the tits off a pretty tied up teenager.
Just occasionally the firm had a book to publish from an author who wrote crime stories that featured quite arousing scenes of cruelty. Eva would read the particular section and re-play the scene with added violence and savagery, way beyond what could legally be published, of course.
Did the author think like that ? Toning down the brutal treatment handed out to some poor captive heroine but secretly thinking of describing much more exciting scenes ?
"Penny for them" said Miss Denholm, the elderly secretary of the chief layout section boss. She had just brought more documents for Evas attention.
Eva smiled. "Oh, they're worth a lot more than that, Heather."
The older woman gave a quite serious sort of nod. "Yes, I think you do sometimes have ideas I would be surprised to know about. Something in the way you look. But we all have our private thoughts, don't we ?"
Eva could feel a strange shiver down her back. Had she said or done something to give herself away somehow?
"No....it's this new manuscript by Jake Mason. He seems to be getting a bit near the limit with some of the scenes he writes."
"You mean when he has the heros girlfriend interrogated by those Mafia men?" Miss Denholm smiled.
To her consternation, Eva felt her cheeks flush brightly. How the Hell did this old biddy know that?
"I....well, yes. I mean, we are sort of responsible for what we publish, and.....it does go a bit far, don't you think?"
"Nonsense, Dear. I found it quite exhilerating. It could have got even more exciting if those damned FBI agents hadn't arrived just when she had been given the first few shocks!"
Eva just had to give a quick guilty glance round the office. The passage in question was quite long and very graphic. The girl had been bundled into a black van, held down and fondled by three men whilst driven to a warehouse in which, after the threat of mass rape, she was now naked and hanging by her breasts which were bound with baler wire. So far so good, but Mr. Mason now had the leader of the Mafia thugs using a twin-pronged electric tazer on the underside of her breasts whilst threatening to put it lower down so she could feel what an internal shock was like.
In a normal thriller, this was getting just a bit OTT.
"More exciting ?" Eva said, not quite sure that this was really happening. She frequently phantasised about people in the office, but never anyone as mature as the chiefs secretary.
Miss Denholm glanced around to check she would not be overheard. "Well, they could have got the information if they had done what was threatened, and then really had a good time raping her, don't you think?"
It was one of those do you don't you moments. Eva could hardly believe she had just heard this sixty-ish emmenantly respectable spinster say she would enjoy reading about electric shocks up the cunt and mass rape......but there was no denying it, that had really just happened.
All normal protocol demanded a denial, a smoothing over of what must have been something said in error or out of context, but Eva was a pervert, a sadist, a murderess, and a woman starved of depraved conversation and nasty ideas. She gave a slow smile, walked to the door of her office and pushed it shut.
"You would find that exciting?" she murmured.
Heather Denholm gave a long deep breath. It had taken quite a bit of nerve to say what she had said, unsure whether or not she was going to make a dreadful mistake. The closing door was an admission that she was right.
"Yes, reading about how she would have screamed when the man pushed his little electric persuader deep in her vagina, and perhaps delicious details of what her struggles would have done to her wire-looped breasts.....I could think of quite a lot of exciting things to do to her before they spread her out and raped her."
"You bitch !" Eva grinned. "How did you know I like that sort of thing?"
Heather smiled. "I am a very observant person. That's why I am so good at my job in graphics. And I have seen your face when you read certain things in the proofs, like the cruel bits Mason manages to work in most of his stories. No-one else would know, I think, but I am pretty sure things like that get you quite moist at times."
"And for you?" Eva asked. "You enjoy reading about cruelty?"
"Oh, if you only knew. I have liked things that no lady should find the least bit interesting for almost half a bloody century, and it's only in the last few years, thanks be to the internet, that I haven't thought I was the only one of my kind!"
"I'd like to know more," Eva grinned. "Somewhere more private, though."
"So would you consider coming home with me this evening? I have some rather interesting items on my home PC."
Amazing how long an afternoon can be when all you want to do is leave work and go to do something exciting, but at last the work was over and the two women went back to Heathers modest two up two down in Battersea.
Like most City workers, they used public transport because a car was impossible to park unless you were very rich. It took almost an hour....a good walker would have beaten them.
On went the kettle. Like almost every English person, a cup of tea was de rigeur before anything else could be contemplated.
Then they sat down in front of the 36" TV which could display Heathers PC content, and on went the computer.
Heather was a Dolcett addict.
She had every picture Eva had ever come across down-loaded from the web featuring Dolcett girls being impaled and cooked.
Hanging, electrocuted, ravished and served hot or cold, the curvacious femmes of Dolcetts delightfully perverted imaginings flashed across the screen. Though these were most satisfyingly depraved and frequently included the death of the unfortunate girl on display, they somehow lacked the cruelty which turned Eva on. Dolcett girls frequently actually agreed to be roasted for the week-end get together, not seeming to be in the least concerned when they knew that a pole was going to be shoved up their arse hole until it erupted from their mouths, then used to hoist them over a bed of burning embers, to be rotated slowly to cook their pretty bodies to a nice sizzling golden brown before being sliced and consumed by their friends.
Eva wanted horror, shrieking dread, frantic pleas for a mercy that would not be shown. But she held back at first, letting Heather confess her sins instead.
"I went to a Catholic school until I was eighteen" she said. " All those saints being burned on crosses or otherwise sanctified through unpleasant forms of death. It was all supposed to make us feel pity and love for those sanctified idiots. I just thought of how much fun it would have been if you were one of the folk doing all the cruel things to the silly bitches. I could never fathom how being accused of following God and then dying to prove it could possibly be classed as saintly. If other people didn't want to believe in their Godly ideas, so what? It couldn't possibly be worth being tortured and put to death just to say you believed. Then, in my teens, the glands began to work and for some reason, every time we had one of those interminable sermons about Saint whatever dying for the glory of God, I was secretly thinking how the silly cow could be stretched out in the nude and given a nice red hot poker up her pussy to make her think twice about being so bloody sanctimonious. And I got the hots for the idea, I suppose. See, I was far from a beauty myself. A horsey sort of girl, not finding boys very interesting....I actually preferred horses anyway. So I didn't find romance, was a bit of a swot, and went to an all girl uni. when I left the Catholic mob.
Bit of a mistake on my parents part, I suppose.
All you got at St. Margarets was a gentle introduction to the art of playing with each other under the bed sheets. Which I frankly admit was a very pleasant experience I have never regretted.
So any lovers I have had over the past God knows how many years have been female, and my secret amusement has been very private wicked arousal by thinking of disposing of ultra-religious women in very un-religious ways.
Guilty, of course. Despite not believing a word of that Catholic tosh they tried to force into my brain, the idea of guilt is hard to shift, so I have enjoyed my depraved imaginings in a dark despair of shame for almost forty years.
Then came home computers, and the clouds rolled away.
Thank God for pornography, the unstoppable outpouring of wonderful obscenity by all the other guilty perverts just like me. It has made the last few years seem like a whole new life."
Eva went to pour another cup of tea.
"Those fucking Catholic schools must turn out more sick-minded perverts than any others!" she laughed. "I was almost the same. Got a turn on when they showed us those part naked Saints being brutalised. Can you believe it ? And half the bloody paedophiles seem to be Catholic priests or poor sods brought up with the Catholic view of repentance !"
"Makes it easy, though, doesn't it ?" Heather chuckled. "Think evil thoughts....two hail Marys. Do evil things... five hail Marys. And we're all forgiven and back in the fold again, no problem. It certainly is a good religion for a pervert."
Eva had never been down on a woman as old as Heather. She was older than Murdoch by about ten years, but when they had moved on from tea to a few nips of Tia Maria, a pleasant evening meal, and a visit to a few of the sites Eva favoured where the girls were much less happy about having their cunts impaled or their tits cut off, the natural follow through was bed, and, despite the wide age gap, both ladies had a thoroughly rewarding time.
Surprisingly, Heather had no qualms about viewing the more extreme forms of torture favoured by her younger companion. After all, Dolcett girls are snuffed. It's only a matter of how they depart that changes.
And she quickly agreed with Eva that the rough art of old Italian fumetti comics was extremely appealing, especially as both male and female sadists seemed to exhibit not the slightest remorse about performing diabolical torture on lovely females for no sane reason whatsoever.
The following day it was quite amusing at work, knowing that now there were two seemingly respectable ladies on the office floor who both had minds like sewers.
This time it was a night spent at Evas flat. The younger woman was unable to be too open about her own exploits, of course, and also unable to open her collection of pornographic material with the same abandon. Some of the videos in Evas collection could not be seen by anyone unless that person had shared in similar experiences. But she did admit to having actually beaten and brutally treated other women, a confession that seemed to turn on her older companion who instantly wanted to know what it felt like.
That's an easy question, but the response is difficult. Eva tried to be objective and honest, explaining that it was mainly the sense of power that excited her. The excitement of doing something immoral was great, as was the associated sex with her un-named male companion, of course, but actually causing the victim pain ( for the sake of the story, Eva had said she was an advanced masochist who truly delighted in being treated severely ) was not really dramatic. Hearing a scream was a good sexy jolt, as was a particularly violent struggle by the unfortunate captive, but it was the sense of power as you swung the whip or dripped hot wax from the candle that really got the juices flowing.
It was so tempting to tell her new companion the truth, but Eva was no fool and knew that she simply could not share her guilt with anyone other than a person she knew for a fact had done similar things. Only Murdoch was safe. God, she missed him.
Chapter Two. A Death in the Family..
Murdoch left the discrete cellar bar in Lower Manhatten, checking as was his habit that there were no hidden watchers taking note of his passage. It was second nature to him after all these years. One only got away with murder if one followed a set of very important rules. Trust those you could drop in the deepest of shit, keep your private misdeeds totally apart from your normal life, make sure the facade of innocence was always squeaky clean, and never do anything illegal without the most careful pre-planning.
Money helped, of course. Unlike the normal Joe who fancied a bit of depraved sexual entertainment, he could afford to make use of the extensive network of clubs and organizations specialising in providing such amusements to the wealthy. As the services they provided were illegal, these organisations were generally reliable. Exposure to the authorities would result in calamity for them, so no effort was spared to ensure total security was maintained. And, as in any criminal organization, the more extreme the illegality, the more conscious the providers were of the need for total secrecy and the more violent their re-action should that trust be abused.
Murdoch had just been present at a very enjoyable sex party. Four other men, six stunningly beautiful and very accomodating private hookers, and two very unhappy bitches who were in need of serious punishment according to their employers.
The men had shared Murdochs interest in brutal cruelty, and the hookers were not stupid enough to object, no matter how violent the treatment meted out to the victims, lest they finish up as next weeks punch-bags. They ignored the sounds of the poor girls being savaged in the "dungeon", concentrating on providing wet and willing orifices for the aroused men to enjoy as and when required.
In the well sound-proofed club rooms, the two bitches had been whipped, assaulted with a variety of very unpleasant sexual implements, repeatedly burned in the most sensitive places by cigarettes and cigars, hung and beaten savagely, screamed and bled quite profusely, and eventually been removed bruised, battered, unconcious, and in no doubt that if they should dare to dis-obey their masters in future, the next session could be fatal.
The men had exhausted their sexual prowess with the ever willing lovelies, and all had gone as it should. They had paid for their pleasures, of course, and went out into the night fully satisfied by the evenings entertainment.
Murdoch walked a fair distance before hailing a Yellow cab. He arrived back at the Hyatt to find things far from peaceful, however.
His wife had been taken to hospital, after an unexpected heart attack, and was at that moment in intensive care, still comatose.
By the time he had done a quick change and showered, to make sure all scents and traces of the numerous pussies he had been exploring were well removed, he had a call telling him he was too late. His wife of almost twenty years had passed away.
Business meetings were hurriedly re-arranged or postponed. Arrangements were made to fly the body back to Scotland. With typical efficiency, Sir Murdoch Fines returned to his baronial pad in the North of Scotland, cursing the freezing winter weather, and proceeded to complete the funeral of his dear lady wife in a fitting manner.
Despite the fact that he had fucked so many willing and un-willing women in his life that he honestly could not get close to quoting the total number, Murdoch had actually got along with his wife extremely well. "Loved" might be a bit strong, in the later years, but they had had a good relationship and he was surprised how quickly he missed her.
Although he desperately wanted to rush to London, the constraints of being a Scottish land-owner meant he had to be seen to observe a decent period of mourning, but after three months he pleaded urgent business duties and left Scotland to go down to his London pied a terre and, of course, call Eva and ask her to come round to the house that same evening.
She waited impatiently for the electric gates to open.
Just off Highgate, Murdochs London home was in an area long known to be for multi millionaires only. Extensive security, almost fortress-like in its thoroughness, surrounded the house, all the more important because, concealed behind very well designed secret passages, the cellars of the house contained the honourable gentlemans own private torture chamber and slave accomodation. Eva was the only living person who shared knowledge of this area. She was squirming on the leather seat of her car, panties already squelching at the prospect of going down to their special playroom once again.
Murdoch welcomed her with open arms, hugging her close, delighted to have this incredibly cruel beauty within reach once more. He had really missed her whilst in the States. There simply was not another person alive with whom he could revel in the extemities of total depravity so completely. She was a lover, a killer, a creative heartless savage evil sadistic bitch, and she was his.......
They ate upstairs, and Eva expressed condolences. She had never met his late wife, but knew they had a live and let live attitude to sexual affairs which meant he could take a mistress without upsetting her, providing it was discrete. She often wondered whether his protestations that his wife did not know of his depraved sexual needs was actually true, convinced that if she was married to a man for so long, she would be certain to find out if he liked dirty things like cruel sex, even if she didn't share his interests.
The meal was simple but excellent, grilled prime steaks, fine wine, an interesting version of a Pavlova for sweet. Eva knew he had his meals prepared by a very discreet young French woman, a plain and wholesome girl who provided her services to a few of the local householders. She would not,of course, have any idea of the things that took place in his home once she had left.
It was quite difficult to talk and act like ordinary folk during the meal, but when it was cleared away and the maid had left, Murdoch sprawled back in an armchair and sat, smiling at Eva like a cat that got the cream.
"Miss me ?"
"You know I did. I have been dreaming of getting together again ever since you left. Everything's alright, isn't it ? With your wife gone, I mean. We are still going to .... see each other ?"
Murdoch shook his head. "Well, I'm afraid things are going to have to change quite a bit !" he said, a serious look on his face.
Eva had that lead-in-the-belly feeling for a moment, her face registering her dismay.
"Oh, come on, you idiot. Nothing wrong. I want to bloody-well marry you, you silly cow !" Murdoch smiled.
Not the most romantic of proposals, to be sure, but received at once with a cry of joy.
"I know I'm an old bastard, but that probably means I'll die well before you, so you can have all my money, the room down-stairs, even a bloody castle up in Scotland. You'll have enough money to live in luxury, and enough left over to be able to buy yourself reluctant girl-friends to play with to your hearts content. You sure you won't feel a bit of a fraud with everyone saying you married me for my money, or calling you a fortune hunting bitch? They will, you know. "
Eva knew she was blushing.
She got on her knees in front of Murdoch, reached forward and started to unzip his flies.
"Darling Murdoch.....you know how much I love you....not in the sort of romantic way....you're right, we are a bit lop-sided age-wise, but I would do anything for you, share everything with you, and be yours until the grim reaper decides to pull us apart."
And her lips parted around his already hardening shaft, her head bobbing down, the taste of him setting off those evil desires ordinary people simply would not comprehend. In her mind, she was already sharing the screams of an agonised girl with her man, and that he was to become her husband only meant that such pleasures could be ever more frequent......
With the sort of perverse logic of lovers, they decided to behave themselves like ordinary people until they were married.
Hugely frustrating for both of them, yet at the same time, the sense of anticipation built with every passing day.
Eva left her job, promising to keep in touch with Heather, and spent the four weeks before their wedding spending more money than she had ever had before on new clothes, perfumes, jewelery and personal treats. She met many of Murdochs business associates, and, rather surprisingly, encountered very little in the way of hostility. Mostly they were men, and secretly envied Murdoch his luck in finding a great looking blonde ready to share her life with him, even if she turned out to be a bloody gold digger.
In Scotland there was more hostility, especially from the local women who regarded Evas good looks and her Englishness as black marks before even speaking to her. So be it. Jealousy was to be expected, and Eva didn't really care a toss about those dour women and their witches mutterings. She was just waiting for the day she would become Lady Fines.
She told Murdoch about Laura, Piglet and Heather, the only friends she would like to have at her wedding, and, rather to her surprise, he wanted to meet them, got on with them like a house on fire, and was delighted to invite them to the wedding.
Naturally, the sadistic interests of Laura and Heather came to light, and Maureen ( alias Piglet) suddenly found she had another woman eager and willing to give her body some discipline....
Murdoch preferred not to let Evas friends know of his perversion, however, so he did not get to enjoy the few foursomes of female depravity that occurred before the wedding day. Eva did tell him all the details, of course, but he stuck to his self preservation rules of total non-disclosure unless with people who had sinned way beyond the law.....
They married in London, a registery office, a champagne party afterwards at the Ritz, then they departed on British Airways for a honeymoon in New York.
Chapter Three :-Horror Honeymoon.
The plane touched down at six. Eva was looking forward to a stay in a nice hotel, going shopping and sight-seeing in The Big Apple in the morning. Instead, the luggage was loaded into an immense saloon car and a silent negro driver sped out of the airport and headed off into the countryside. All Evas questions were ignored.
Two and a half hours later, in the middle of what looked like industrial wasteland, the car turned into the open doors of a corrugated iron factory building and came to a stop.
The big black man silently unloaded their luggage, piled it on an electric converted golf cart, passed the keys to Murdoch, said "Enjoy y'all" and drove off.
Eva was no fool. Although tired by the long trip and puzzled by this strange arrival, something told her she was in for a nice surprise.
She climbed alongside her grinning husband on the golf cart transport, and they drove through a series of heavy steel doors and arrived in an amazing fairy tale internal courtyard. Roofed in reflective plexi-glass, the four sided area had fountains and gardens, the walkways around the four sides of the courtyard under colonades of Romanesque arches in front of richly furnished accomodation.
A tall black woman in a gorgeous evening dress came from the building and welcomed Murdoch with a kiss and a fairly intense hug. She turned to Eva, held out her hand, and gave a dazzling smile.
"Welcome, Lady Fines, to the Horror Hotel. You are the only guests, of course, for the next week. I am Jezebel. If you have any requirements, I will do my best to provide for your needs. May I suggest a light supper before you retire ? I will give you the introductory tour in the morning after you have rested. Is that satisfactory ?"
Murdoch was grinning like a schoolboy. He could see the amazement in his new brides lovely blue eyes, the suspicion, the flare of desire.
"Did you say ' Horror Hotel' ?" Eva queried.
"See you in the morning, ma'am" Jezebel smiled, and walked away.
Another black woman and a tall white guy who looked like a cowboy appeared. They grabbed the cases and led the way inside.
"I'm Hector, and this here's Josie" the tall man smiled. Eva did not return his smile. His eyes were undressing her, and she had the horrible feeling that what he wanted to do to her was painful, not sexy.
When they had left the room, Murdoch chuckled. "You didn't fancy Hector much ?" he asked.
"He....well, he looked at me like I was tied on a bed in the nude, if you want to know!"
"You see....I always thought you were a good judge of character. Actually, Hector likes the young ones better. Under-age stuff. But he'd love to cut your tits off slowly, given the chance !"
"He's a paedophile ?"
"Well, sort of. He likes killing kids. Slowly. Skinning little girls after they've been fucked senseless, that's his special pleasure."
"And he works here?"
"You bet he does. Where else is he going to be able to do his thing and know he isn't going to have the law looking for him. See, certain guests with similar tastes like to see things being done but don't actually have the stomach for doing it themselves. That's where the staff here come in. Want a girl raped until she's unconcious ? The men here will take her in turns until her pussies worn to ribbons. And the women, the maids and so on, they're more fluffers. All of them will do whatever any guest wants, but most of them aren't really in to the rough stuff. That's why some-one like you is such a treasure, Sweetheart. But they know what goes on. They won't talk, however, or the punishment is a slow and very unpleasant death plus virtually anyone they care about being disposed of, maybe in a nice hit and run accident, or an unfortunate house fire, or, if we can get hold of them safely, a lingering disposal job in your friendly Horror Hotel !"
"And the woman who met us, Josie was it ?"
"Jezebel ! She's a sort of Mexican version of a certain Mrs. Fines I know. She has enjoyed helping me put a few young ladies through hell before we've let the bitches die. Butch dyke extraordinaire. Her favourite is to finish a girl off by fucking her with something lethal.
She was the governess of a small Mexican prison about ten years ago. Made a lot of money hiring out female prisoners to visiting Americans. Provided well equipped sound proof cells you could play in, and saved a very great deal of money. Just missed being caught, from what I heard, but managed to cover everything up before an enquiry, and left with a whiff of suspicion but no serious trouble.Then she realised it would be even better to work for herself.
Bought this place, had it converted, and arranged for a steady supply of wetbacks....they're illegal Mex girls trying to get in to the States. They pay her to smuggle them out, stupid bitches, and end up here as canon fodder for nasty people like us to kill. Brilliant. The victims pay her some, we pay her a hell of a lot more, and nobody cares because no-one is ever going to look for them or even knows where to start looking.
Killable girl flesh, an inexhaustable supply. Mind you, most of it is a bit brown. Jezebel only gets white meat to order, and that can be a bit expensive. "
"And when they're dead ?"
"Chopped, diced, fed into a furnace. No trace anyone would find unless they sent some serious CSO's to search the place. Unlikely. Doesn't show up from the air. Supplies and people come in via various unlikely routes, and, naturally , none of the clients ever talk or they'd be in prison, too."
"And this is our Honeymoon Hotel ?"
"Wait 'till you see your wedding present to-morrow !"
Murdoch flatly refused to answer any more questions.
They made love before falling asleep. All the waiting would be over soon, and their self-imposed sobriety would be jettisoned. They could revert to the evil delights of their shared passion for sadistic cruelty and make use of the specialised facilities that had been created in this bizarre hotel, truly a Horror Hotel for many of its visitors. Like the Hotel California, once booked in, they would find they could never leave. Except in a body bag.
They were eating a light breakfast of fresh fruit, tasty bread rolls, and delicious coffee, sitting out in the gardens, the glazed roof letting the sunshine in but helping to keep the heat out. Two Mexican girls were serving them, both giggling a lot and eyeing Eva with ill-concealed lust.
"Dykes too !" Murdoch grinned. "Bet they're saying how much they'd like to suck your cunt !"
Jezebel appeared as they finished breakfast.
"Tour or straight to your private facility, Sir ?" she smiled at Murdoch.
"Oh, give my wife the tour, Jez. Let her see the sort of variety you provide !"
Above ground, along the rear section of the building, a row of comfortable small holding "cells" with locked doors and one-way glass windows looking in on the occupants. The rooms had TV's, nice modern furnishings, comfortable looking beds. These were the stock-rooms, presently holding fourteen women, mostly young and attractive, with Latin-looking skin.
"We're a bit short on stock at the moment," Jezebel smiled. "But the border patrol are on duty for the rest of this week. Should have a dozen more at least coming in."
"Do these girls know what's going to happen to them ?" Eva asked, noting that, though not looking exactly happy, none of the penned girls seemed frightened.
"No...they think they are in a holding facility before being sent back to Mexico."
"And they are all going to be killed here ?"
"Probably. I do sometimes sell a girl for home delivery, but most of my clients have not got adequate facilities for looking after unwilling meat. Or good disposal systems."
Two women wearing a sort of semi-military type grey uniform came in to view. They were armed with short barreled sub machine pistols. They unlocked six of the cells and the prisoners walked out quite confidently.
"Morning shower detail" Jezebel explained. "We do look after our er... guests."
Below ground level, down two flights of concrete stairs, steel shuttered corridors. Rooms with sheet steel doors. And behind the doors, a variety of devices that would grace the Inquisition.
Rack room. Electric room. Burns unit. Press and crush devices. Whipping posts. Gallows. Padded benches, iron maidens, horses of varied severity, compression chambers, chemical specialities, bondage beds, awesome collections of flagellation equipment, dildoes, pears, breast rippers, claws, hooks, presses.......mouth-watering variety that had Eva concious of the wetness between her legs giving off her hot womanly perfume to an embarrassing degree as they moved from room to room.
"I think I should have joined the shower detail" Eva said, concious of the warm sex smell wafting up from her moist mons as the sight of such gruesome implements turned her on.
Jezebel gave a lewd smile full of lust. "I've a nice shower room upstairs if you'd like to share it with me ?"
Eve giggled. "All girls together....sounds like a fun way to start the day. Shall we go ?"
Actually, a little while later as she was thrusting her tongue deep inside the volcanic depths of her hostesses cunt, Eve felt a bit ashamed of herself. First morning of her honeymoon and she was having unbridled sex with a total stranger. She should at least have asked her husband along to enjoy the show. Jezebel had proved to be her equal in Lesbian expertise, the two of them intertwining in a delicious mix of tongue, finger, and assorted sex toys that left them coated with saliva and sex juices, so they certainly needed that shower......
When she returned to Murdoch he was sitting on a low armchair watching a large television screen. Between his carelessly spread thighs knealt one of the maids Eva had seen earlier. She was delicately running her pink tongue round and round the rim of Murdochs roused penis. As Eva approached, he pushed the girl away.
"Thank God you've come back. Having the Devils own job not to come in that little tarts mouth while I was waiting. Rather a nice film from Dubrovnik, white slavers teaching some new girls what their cunts are for !"
Eve glanced at the screen. Three naked rumps were being paddled with a rattan cane, angry red lines starting to glow on six creamy white cheeks.
"They tried to say "no", Murdoch explained, switching off the TV.
Josie, the black servant, came in pushing a trolley with coffee and iced drinks, small sweet pancakes, and a variety of fruits. "The chamber's ready like you said, Sir " she grinned at Murdoch.
"Give it twenty minutes to get everything just right, sort of. Things to warm up, like, Sir ".
She gave a distinctly lewd smile, then strolled away.
"The staff seem to be a bit ....well, a bit familiar " Eve murmured.
"Not surprising, Darling. Almost all of them are sick perverted bastards of one sort or another, and they know perfectly well what sort of things the clients get up to. Generates a less formal atmosphere, in a way. If it upsets you, just tell them. They would change their ways to suit what you want without question."
"Really ? And that one, Jolene or whatever ?"
"Josie. She's a killer, wanted for six murders in Georgia. Her and some biker buddies did two white families. Kept them alive for almost a week, she told me. She likes hurting men, but she's not averse to slitting a pretty bitch open given the opportunity. I've seen her in action. No heart at all, that one.
But she's a bit clinical about it....no passion !"
Eve shook her head. "God, I don't really know anything about you, do I ?"
Murdoch smiled and caught her hand, drawing her down onto his lap. He kissed her.
Despite his age, he could rouse a woman like a young blood, his touch so knowing, his skill un-forced and natural. One hand slid up between her thighs. She moistened almost instantly, and he gave a low dirty chuckle.
"No-one in this world knows me as well as you do, Darling " he whispered in her ear. "We were made for each other. And this is going to be the first day of many very erotic adventures we are going to share together."
With his face creased in a seemingly permanent grin, Murdoch led his bride down a short flight of stone steps. The tour had not included this area. There were eight of the one-way windows, four each side of the short corridor. The first three were empty. In the fourth, a blonde woman lay on a bed. She looked dishevelled. A thin silver chain led from her righ ankle to a ring set in the middle of her cell. Her eyes were reddened as if she had been crying.
"Carol Winters, she's nineteen, thought she was going to have a modelling test for a fashion company. Been here a couple of days. Not a happy bunny." Murdoch said. Then stood aside so Eve could look in the next window.
"Bethany Compling. She's sixteen, probably a virgin, was going to Canada with her mother when they sort of got mis-laid, thanks to a taxi ride in a cab run by someone Jezabel pays good money to.
And next door Tracy Cardinham, an estate agent from London, her California holiday rudely interrupted."
Eve gave a gasp of delight as she saw the woman sitting on the side of the bed in the cell. She didn't look all that much older than Bethany, though in fact she was thirty, but stunning because of her huge breasts. A Bunny girl would have killed for them. Like Carol, both these captives wore ankle chains.
"All these women....are we going to have them ?" Eva gasped, her hand pressing into her groin as the fever started to boil.
"Oh, Darling, I'm well off but not made of money" Murdoch chuckled,"But I think you'll enjoy our special room. It has a good variety of themes I have chosen for our....well, our wedding breakfast, I suppose." Murdoch smiled. "It should be occupied by now. Shall we go ?"
A steel door which needed a plastic card to be swiped through an electric lock before it would open. Inside there was a low level of light, a slight background hum from the air- conditioning, and dark shapes that looked to be quite interesting.
As Eva stepped over the thresh-hold, the light level increased and she saw the bondage tables, bars, racks and implements of torture that filled the room.
There were also two blind-folded women on the far wall, wrists strapped above their heads, legs spread slightly apart, their mouths open because rubber ball gags were strapped in place. They were clothed in erotic underwear, although one looked slightly ridiculous as she was about eight months pregnant, and her bulging belly did not suit the stretched panties and garter belt that struggled to contain it.
Eva gasped. She instantly remembered saying to Murdoch that to torture a pregnant girl was one of her dirtiest phantasies.....he had obviously remembered, too.
And suddenly she realized how alike the womens faces were. Despite the gags and blindfolds, their hair colour was almost a perfect match, the facial structures the same, but with one quite a few years younger......
"Oh, God ! That's her daughter !" Eva gasped, a sudden surge of overpowering evil lust seeming to boil deep inside her belly.
Her new husband just grinned like a teen-ager in love. His eyes sparkled. He knew this was what Eva had so often talked about when they were lying together after performing some monstrous act of cruelty on a poor unfortunate victim, her ultimate "what if" scenario, a mother and daughter and with the mother carrying her next child. The possibilities for depravity seemed endless.
It had cost a bit, arranging for these two to be abducted in San Francisco and smuggled in to Mexico. But the company he had used, though expensive, were extremely efficient and had never been in any trouble with the law. Security was superb, and the required products had been delivered unharmed and totally un-aware of the reason they had been taken.
He put a finger over his lips, signyfying his bride to be quiet. "They don't know the other one is here" he whispered. "They were taken in the States and kept under with drugs. Only when they were here in seperate cells were they brought round. They don't hava a clue why they were captured."
Before the long absence, when she was last in the basement of Murdoch's London home, she remembered he had asked her what her ultimate cruel desire would be, and she had outlined this very situation. And he had arranged it for her wedding present.
She threw her arms round Murdoch's neck, kissed him passionately.
"You wicked wicked man " she grinned. "You remembered ?"
"Darling, I didn't just remember, I tossed myself off plenty of times when I had nothing better to do, thinking about you working on a nice swollen pair of milky tits and a big taut belly, let alone what evil little games you'd think up for the daughter. They have no idea what has happened. They were in a cab, the driver released a nerve gas in the back, and they woke up in their cells. They have not seen each other since falling asleep in the cab. They do know they are in shit street, mind you, with the gags and kinky clothes. It's up to you what to do. Excite me."
They entered Room 42. This was going to be disgusting. Eva was almost wetting herself as the door closed behind them and they approached the bound females.
Re: first part of new torture story
That is as far as I have managed to get, my friends.
I hope it interests you.
I hope even more that I might read some original ideas about hurting the wedding gift girls.
I do so like the red hot poker where the sun don't shine, and similar niceties, but I have done them already and would like something nasty that I had not thought of.
Send me a mail or add a note here.
Re: first part of new torture story
At some point, I hope they cut that baby out of the living mother and show it to her! Great start!
You can't beat a bitch skinny, but that doesn't take any of the fun out of trying.
Bitches. They're nature's punching bag.
My newest fiction: http://extreme-board.com/stories/536...ce-sadism.html
Disclaimer: All statements made under this profile are works of PURE fantasy and do not reflect any real life desires or intents.
|Thread||Thread Starter||Forum||Replies||Last Post|
|Hot and stormy scenes with gorgeous girls||baber||Hardcore||954||09-20-2014 02:31 AM|
|The fascinating story of humiliation, bondage, torture||Achtung||BDSM Board||21||02-12-2014 04:41 AM|
|Lance a Lott ??||mmsterit||Stories||13||09-13-2013 05:27 PM|
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