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Tear me apart. You know you want to. You see a victim on the floor, helpless, practically begging to be in your clutches. It is not everyday you get a live one, a human drugged out and ready to be consumed. You see my chest heave up and down, showing signs of life. You go down my legs, noticing characteristics that would indicate I am young. Fresh young meat was always your favorite. You know what to do. Take out a knife and slice my throat. Watch me try to cover my throat with my hands to stop the bleeding. It is a fruitless effort as the blood spews from my neck, killing me quickly. A lick of my blood gets you going so you can properly prepare me for consumption. You have your butcher knife in hand ready to slice and dice me to your liking. Where do you think you will start? My juicy thighs? My tender arms? My supple neck that you slashed? The choice is yours.
Cum and water drip out of my nose and mouth as I feel your hand around my throat.
You see me on the street and pretend to be asking me for directions. Little did I know that you were waiting for a sucker so you could drag them into your van and take them to your place. Your dungeon has an assortment of tools that you like to use to torture your victims: a hand rake to scrape my skin, a curling iron to burn me and, more importantly, your cock. You love to face fuck me and shove your cock so deep down my throat that I can’t breath. Then, you cum in my throat and I try to spit it up. You shove my face into a bucket of water so that I won’t be able to release the cum wad and now cum and water is dripping out of my nose and throat. I can breathe but I am barely alive. Once you put your hand on my throat, it is all over for me, the dumb, helpless victim.
I am bloody, beaten and broken. You have completely destroyed my body and my soul. I lay on the ground, almost lifeless, from the seemingly endless beating that you gave me. Punch after punch, hit after hit, all over my face, my stomach and my back. I remember you pushing me to the ground and stomping my face in. Whores like me deserve to be beaten. Whores like me deserved to be stomped out. I deserve to be kicked in the chest so my collar bone breaks, leaving me unable to move my head from your strikes. That is how you like your whores, isn’t it? Beaten and broken from the inside and the outside. I don’t even have the will to say anything as you pull my pants down and fuck my pussy. You kept my pussy in tact so it would still look beautiful as you fucked it, the only part of me that matters. That doesn’t mean you are going to be gentle with my pussy. You want to fuck me hard and fast, beating my pussy up. Whores like me don’t deserve a slow fuck. Whores like me don’t deserve anything.
These restraints are too tight. You tie me up to a chair with some rope while I have hand and foot restraints. I am begging for you to let me go. You see me struggling and laugh, your cock getting harder with every jiggle of my tits. I am helpless and you know it too. You leave the room and come back with electric nodes to place on my body. I try to get away, but my efforts are pointless. You place them on my nipples, increasing the intensity every 10 seconds. I scream, I cry and I beg for mercy but you have no compassion. By the time you are done, my nipples are fried off of my tits. This gets you even harder in preparation for what you are about to do to me. Tears are streaming down my face at the loss of my nipples, unaware that I am tied to an electric chair. You pull the switch and watch me convulse until I perish. Sluts like me don’t need nipples in hell.
Last night, I was doing my evening run. I was running down the street, ready to make a turn when someone came up from around the corner and grabbed me. I tried to fight him off but someone else came and helped him put me in the back of a van. They put chloroform on my mouth and I passed out. Once I came to, I screamed. Some guy had his cock so far up my ass I could feel it in my guts. Another man came and shoved his dick in my throat to keep me quiet. Now I am being double fucked by two guys that I do not know. Another guy came up to me and started rubbing my breasts. I tried to keep him off of me but he is too strong and I’m too busy getting fucked. When they both came in my mouth and my ass, I tried to escape but was told that I could either be a living doll (awake) or a dead doll (knocked out). I didn’t want to be drugged again so I obeyed them. As cock after cock kept pounding me in each one of my holes, I became more compliant and less resistant. I wanted them to use me. With each stroke, they were turning me into their little whore.
I’m just your sexy teen babysitter who came to watch your two youngsters. Why am I now tied up in your basement? One second, I was tucking your kids into bed. You told me that you had the money to pay me but I needed to follow you and help you find your wallet in the basement. I’m such a stupid slut! Now you have me tied up and I can’t stop you from having your way with me. You gag me with a sock and it seems you have been thinking about this for a long time. I try to run away but you catch me quickly, turn me around, and pull down my pants so you can forcefully fuck my ass. I didn’t want to lose my ass virginity like this. It hurts so much, your cock feels so tight inside my little ass hole. I’m begging for you to stop but you keep fucking me, treating me like your personal whore. Stop hurting me, please! I can’t take it!
I am running down the street to get away from you, but you are gaining on me. I try to take a shortcut through the park. I can’t see anything and don’t know whether you are right behind me or if I have lost you. I keep running, hard, hoping to get to the other side of the park before I ever see you again. In the streetlamp light, I see you there waiting for me. How did you beat me? I try to run the other direction but it is too late. You tackle me to the ground. I scream for help but you cover my mouth and straddle me so I won’t escape. You rip off my shirt and lick my nipples. I scream and try to fight you off, but you are much stronger than me. You lift up my skirt and push my panties to the side. I scream for you to stop and beg for you to let me go, but my cries fall on deaf ears. You force yourself on me, shoving your cock inside of me and tearing my pussy apart and making my cunt bleed. I cry and I beg and I try to fight but stop resisting once I realize it is pointless. I am essentially a corpse and you are fucking my lifeless body. You grab my tits, kiss my neck and pump your cum into me. When you’re done, you leave me there on the ground, revitalized by the thrill and eager to find another victim.
My body, still warm, has been left at the cemetery. The grave digger, who was only focused on his daily work, does not know who left the body there or for what reason. All he knows is that he can either call the police or have a fun night with the corpse. So, making his decision, he rubs my face to see if I am still alive and lifts up my skirt and top to inspect how I died. My body is perfect because I died by an opioid overdose. That means he got to play with my perfect clean body. He unzipped his pants quickly, before anyone could see what he was doing, and pulled down my panties. Then, he stuck his cock into my pussy. Finally, a body that wouldn’t fight back. No screaming, no crying, no running, just pure sex. The feeling of his cock in my pussy made him come inside of me multiple times. He played with my tits, rubbed my clit and even turned me over to fuck me in my ass. My body was good to him, much better than the other corpses that he had fucked over the years because no one knew who I was and no one was looking for me. Now he can keep me preserved and fuck me whenever I want.
The Butcher has me in his clutches. He sharpens his cleaver as he prepares to finish me off. I cannot believe that I am here. I was kidnapped, taken to a butcher shop where I was hung on a mental, sharp hook in a dark, cold freezer by my upper back until he was ready to butcher me. When he took me down to be butchered, he tenderized me with a hammer. Bang bang bang against my skin and bones. He would break every bone that I had in my body, causing me excruciating pain. I screamed bloody murder and begged for him to stop, but he would not listen to my pleas. Now I am laying on a large chopping board, unable to move due to my bones being broken and waiting for my fate. The butcher got out a guide to butchering humans, read it for a few seconds, took his meat cleaver and chopped my foot off. I screamed until I couldn’t scream any more. “My foot! Why did you take my foot?” I cried. He took my foot and started licking the bloody meat on the part he chopped off. It looked like it took everything in his power to not eat the entire foot right there, and put the foot down so he could resume to butchering my body. I don’t remember much after my foot was chopped off as I passed out from the blood loss. I might have ended up in someone’s stew.
The surgeon has me strapped down to the hospital bed. I feel groggy after he had injected some kind of sedative. He says that I am prepped for surgery, but I didn’t ask for any surgeries. I see his tool station with all of the devices he will use to torture me. There lie surgical scissors, a bone cutter, sutures, retractors, a dilator, and a cranial drill. He had his sterile gloves on and was ready to tear into me. Even though he sedated me, I could feel everything that was happening to me. As he sliced into my leg, he noted all of the muscles, nerves and ligaments. Then, he took his surgical saw and sawed into my bones, completely detaching my lower leg from the rest of my body. I wanted to scream out in pain, but I was too drugged to make a sound. He continued with the rest of my body, cutting off my left hand and my right arm. Each procedure left me in agony. Once I finally got up from my stupor, I screamed at the top of my lungs and begged for anyone to help me. The surgeon took his cranial drill and shoved it into my forehead so that he may continue his surgery in peace.