We wanted to make a film, one that we could enjoy…and one that we could send to our next victims; we thought it’d be the perfect cruel joke. It was all set-up.
The little heathen was still screaming for her mommy; it would’ve been funny if I wasn’t growing tired of it. My accomplice was torturing the stupid, young pink ball of flesh while I was sharpening my saw. The girl’s mother was on my table, completely bound; and, I had made the good decision to gag her. She was crying, though, for her little spawn that was being stretched and carved like a Halloween pumpkin.
I dug the teeth of the saw into the woman’s flesh, just enough to imprint the edges; then, I pressed down, the faintest little trickle of blood falling down her forearm and wrist. She yelped with the gag in her mouth; I always enjoy those first few cuts while they are cognizant. It only slightly burned, but she knew that was only the beginning. I patiently sawed through tissue and bone above her right knee; it wouldn’t be a fatal wound and I didn’t want it to be. The sinew and corpuscles were completely visible as the dead leg hit the floor. She wasn’t thinking about her daughter anymore; isn’t it funny how our attention can change at the drop of a pin!
I was happy that the daughter had quit screaming; I looked once more and saw my accomplice shoving his cock into the hole where her small little nipple had been. Returning my attention to my victim, I sliced off her fingers, one by one, with the hedge trimmers. Then, I completed my tasks by removing her other limbs the same as I had done her right leg. She was a stub of a person, now. I untied her and threw her on the ground near the door. I taunted her, “Run, run. This is your chance.” I laughed as she continually fell and struggled.
Finally, when she had given up, I raised her by the hair and slashed her throat, making sure that the camera caught a close-up of her face. Yes, I would watch that over and over again later. The smell of death permeated the room; my accomplice and I were pleased with ourselves. We stuffed the bodies into a garbage can that we’d leave outside of the local daycare.
When my brother and I were young, we were sentenced to an asylum; our dumb parents thought that would help us… and it did but just not in the way they hoped. We learned new, better, more creative ways to harm ourselves and others.
We decided to re-visit our old haunt but we thought it’d be safer to go at night when it wasn’t as well staffed. They drug you at night; during the day is when you cause trouble. When we drove up, everything was dark and the building barely stood upright. Windows, walls, and doors were missing. We investigated the debris with our flashlights. There were toothbrushes by the sinks as if everyone had been unexpectedly interrupted in their routines.
It seemed like fire was the cause of the destruction. There was one place that we had to check for old time’s sake: a trap door in the floor. It creaked a little, then broke, as we removed the lid. When I shined my light down below, I saw a skeleton. My brother and I laughed because it had a name tag; and the only people who wore badges were nurses. We strained to read it: R-e-b-a. That was the head nurse!
We looked up at each other and instantly knew what had happened: no one knew about the trap door except patients, and that fire had been set on purpose, most likely to cover up dear old Reba’s death. We looked a little further and could see a few patients’ bracelets. “We finally revolted,” my brother said. I told him that it was a shame that we hadn’t been a part of that; but, we did our legacy…and that’s for another time. We walked out of the abandoned building and said, “Keep it tip-top,” which was Reba’s motto.
I hate college towns, but they’re good for one thing: football games. No, of course, I don’t love the game. But between the drinking and crowds, it’s a paradise for a sadistic whore like me! So many ages, shapes and sizes, races, and degrees of stupidity. I was feeling particularly wicked and wanted a nice, fresh face…someone who was pretty that I could mar. She was easy to spot; she had people gathered around her; and, since she was so popular, it was going to be a challenge to get her alone. But I was up for it! I waited patiently until she stumbled to the bathroom alone.
I walked up behind her, pressed a knife in her back, and said, “If you want to live, you will do exactly what I say.” She smelled of beer and perfume. I took her back to an empty high school gym, where I had set up my toys. I tied her up and made her watch videos of prom queens and beauty pageants…as I sliced her face. I left the rest of her body alone; I just wanted to scar her face, watch the blood leak from what everyone admired. She cried, “My face…” and I chuckled, reminding her that she would never again look like the beautiful girls on the screen. I let her live but kept tabs on her as she suffered with deep depression.
One night, I left her a note that told me to meet me up on the roof of a campus building; I signed it with some of her blood that I had kept. Of course she came. I told her that she didn’t have anything worth living for and that her eyes even looked dead. I noticed cuts on her arms that I had never given her and smiled. “Why don’t you just end it?” I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of pushing her. I whispered evil musings in her ear, the same ones that I had told her on our first night together. Blankly, she stepped off, screamed only for a second, and made a sound like a cantaloupe on the pavement. It was one of the most beautiful sights that I had seen in a while.
We sold tickets and rented a pavilion to showcase our creation. Our theatrical stage was perfect and we paraded the demented young monster-girl around the room, allowing anyone to prod, kick, or fuck her before strapping her to a table. She did not even look human with her warped figure, large breasts and ass, relocated nipples, and asymmetrical limbs. First, we made her watch porn of young ones who were beautiful, getting fucked liked like she never would…living a happy life that she never could. She cried as the audience laughed and gawked at her.
Now was the time for me to give my surprise to my accomplice: I picked up an electric sander and grinned. Gently moving it toward her cunt, the audience was instantaneously excited. I pressed the unforgiving machine against her fragile clit…and then fiercely. The freak screamed as blood jutted forth. I caught glimpses of my partner’s approval while I continued to mutilate our creation.
Next, my partner chose a drill to gauge out her eyes. The blood was gorgeous, and all that was left were sockets. He paused and pissed in those red holes as our monster continued to snarl, unable to speak because we had constructed her mouth to stay wide open at all times.
I used my favorite knife to carve messages in her skin, such as “It’s all your fault” and “Ugly whore-freak.” My partner enjoyed this touch of sadism and laughed. He plunged his thick, erect cock down her throat; and we could see it move beneath the skin. I took a stick and shoved it ruthlessly up her asshole, tearing at the tender flesh.
Her sores were beginning to ooze infection as we continued. We encouraged any of our audience members to piss, fuck, or defecate on her sores. I took great enjoyment when one of the participants slid his dick inside of the wound on her chest, where her nipple was barely attached.
Finally, it was time: I crawled on top of the table, slit the freak’s throat. She began to make those beautiful gargling sounds with blood…and my accomplice fucked the slice on her throat until her head, barely attached, rolled to the ground. We cut her limbs up and served them to our audience to do as they chose.
My accomplice devised this wicked scenario and asked me to join in the fun. We kidnapped a young girl and took her to a special surgical underworld. The doctors cosmetically altered her to make her look wonderfully freakish at our command.
We had her breasts enlarged to the size of cantaloupes on her small body; then, we relocated her nipples so that they were not centered. One was even hanging off the side of her massive breast! Then, my partner had her teeth removed so that her mouth was entirely gums; I requested that she have bones reconstructed to keep her mouth open at all times. Her face would be in the shape of a constant “O” like a fish. We both agreed this would be attractive for men who wanted blowjobs. And, we made sure that her limbs were broken and reconstructed to not match in length.
We debated about creating malformed penises out of her clit, but I persuaded my partner to be patient; I had a gift that I wanted to give him later where this was concerned. We added concrete to her buttocks to make her look absolutely ridiculous. All the while, we were taunting her, reminding her, “This is all of your fault. You will never be like the pretty girls.” We mocked her as she stayed relatively conscious with little to no pain medication.
When it was complete, we walked her around on a leash. We took her to porn stores, where we paraded her and kept her in the back room for guys to fuck unmercifully. And, they did: they fucked her holes raw until they were just pieces of meat. Then, we would make her lick up all of the cum on the sticky, filthy floor. And, her open mouth was a perfect urinal.
But, the real fun was just about to begin!
We brought the video to the mother and we gleefully watched her react to her daughter struggle for her life in vain. The little hellion was dead now…why get upset? Stupid woman. She moaned and called for her daughter as if that would do any good. When the video ended, he brought the girl’s corpse to the mom. There, he butchered the torso, ripped out the heart and bit into it. Then, he took the severed head that was still on the stake and began beating the mother with it. I was very impressed with his impromptu impulses because that was not planned.
Next, he jammed the stick between her legs, into her pussy. The severed head was staring at her; and, I placed pins in her eyes, eliminating any possibility that she could close her eyes. I began cutting around her nipples, looking at the sinewy tissue; but, again, my comrade took it away from me and began to do it himself. He yelled and ranted; and, I became a happy voyeur to the rest of the process. He blamed her for her daughter’s horrible death and continued to slice her up and choke her. But the final act was one that showed me that he had promise: he carved out a warped circle on her belly. He threw down his pants and fucked her womb until she died.
When she was dead, he chopped her up for hours until he was too tired to walk. A part of me admired him, but I would have to do something with him…and the bodies.
Someone referred a guy to me; he was tall, had a few-day-old beard, and was visibly distraught. He kept mumbling about an “Ex” of his and how she had done him ‘wrong.’ I wasn’t really sure what happened, but I was determined to help him. Not out of the goodness of my heart, of course; rather, I just loved his evil plan. But, I figured he would probably back out and I would carry it out myself…and do away with him in the process.
We kidnapped his ex-girlfriend and her little daughter and separated them. First, we tortured the little girl. He initially slapped her face with his cock, kicked her in the pussy; I restrained her because I had other plans. I picked up my favorite dagger and began slicing her; to my surprise, he took the dagger away from me. He began using it to scrawl messages to his ex; he tried to write sentences and then he settled on words and shorter phrases, such as “whore” and “her fault.” The girl continued to scream for her mother, and my accomplice seemed to relish in her screams. We finally drove stakes in her neck, decapitating her head. Then my partner put her head on a stake and fucked it.
Wait until you hear what happens next…it gets even better!
Since it’s Father’s Day, I visited my grandfather in the nursing home. His glazed eyes stared in the distance, but his mind was as sharp as it always had been. When I asked about the women waving to me, he said it was his girlfriend. She looked just a like a little grandma, so sweet and unassuming, as she played cards with some of the other women. He sensed my confusion and said, “Now, honey, you of all people should know that things are not always as they seem.” Granddaddy leaned down to me and whispered, “We’re in love. And, she’s one of us.” I was in disbelief; how could this Betty-Crocker-looking grandma be a suitable partner for the man that I fashioned my evil side from?
He reached into his pocket and produced a pinky; it was grey but he had carried it around for a while. My granddaddy didn’t usually keep trophies, so I was curious. He said, “See this—she did this for me when we had our first kill together.” To my delightful surprise, I found that age and blindness hadn’t withered his evil spirit. He said that they would go on outings at night in order to find little ones and girls to torture. I knew his favorite were the plump athletic ones; and, I was happy that some things hadn’t changed.
The woman had a friend who owned a pizza place, so sometimes they’d go back there and create feasts out of their victims. According to him, she had never done anything like this before, but she was a natural. “Loves the little ones,” he chuckled. “And, you know that’s just fine with me. She can steal a brat in pure daylight, take out its heart and eat it, and people just smile at her with blood dripping from her chin.” I looked over at the woman with a missing pinky. What a perfect ruse, really: an old blind man and a grandma. He leaned down and whispered, “We’re planning on going on a road-trip.” I knew that meant that he would find a way to let me know which killings were his as they traveled. I kissed his cheek and left. For the rest of the day, any time I looked at an old lady, I wondered what kind of evil lurked beneath the surface.
Teen phone sex with a mortician is quite different than anything you’ve ever experienced… My wicked impulses and bloody appetite are unlike anything you’ve ever seen—and too cruel to even depict in films, which wouldn’t do the thrill justice.
I’ve been a little swamped with work lately, and that’s fine because I love my work. However, fixing bodies for their loved ones is not what enough to satiate my darkness. Sensing this, one of my friends asked me to come over; and, though I politely said “No,” he persisted. When I arrived, he had a young girl strapped to a chair, gagged with a handkerchief. He looked at me and watched as a smile spread across my cherry red lips.
I wondered how he had found someone so young, and he told me that he had put out a couple of advertisements for a babysitter, which was a perfect ruse. He had selected this one because he believed that she would appeal to me and because (he confessed) she had big tits. I rolled my eyes, but I was pleased with his selection.
We spent the entire night torturing the teen; my friend, poking large holes in her nipples and ripping the tissue off. Then I stabbed the pink tissue, watching the blood gush. He tore off her pants and panties, too; her eyes widened, thinking we were going to indulge our rape fantasies. And, we were, just not the way she thought.
I grabbed a machete and began cutting through her neck, that tender skin. How beautiful it was to watch the grey color wash over her face as she breathed her last laborious breath! I continued to carve the head, take slivers of the brain for some soup that I planned to make. And this left my friend to her torso, which he straddled and began fucking. As he was about to cum, he placed his fingers inside the gaping hole where her head used to be; I watched his ass cheeks clinch as he came in the corpse. How silly, I thought; I much preferred not to play with my food. He began looking at the head; after I carved her up really good, I’d let him have it…I knew he wanted to put his dick in her sweet teenage mouth. After all, he had planned to do this in order to cheer me up—and it had worked!
I hate all of the stupid little “fun” things that most people do; so, when my coworkers asked me to accompany them to the bowling alley, I tried to be as nice as possible when I said “No.” But, I’m sure it still came out as a snarl. I went home, walked around my sweet dark dungeon…and my mind kept wandering to the bowling alley, and how it could serve as quite an ample torture chamber. I poured a glass of red wine; and the more that I thought about it, I knew I had to go at least to check out the scene.
When I arrived, the parking lot was pretty empty. And, the lights seemed halfway out. I was disappointed but decided to investigate further. To my surprise, I opened the door and I saw a couple of young guys working, cleaning…and drinking beer. While I would’ve loved to play with my coworkers, I thought this pair would do quite nicely in order to satiate my desire for torture.
The boys looked my way, and I watched their eyes go from my whore-red lipstick, down my breasts and legs that were all augmented by tight spandex. It was almost too easy, really; but, what the hell?! I was already there, and my hunger for inflicting pain was mounting. I asked if they wanted to have some fun, and the idiots laughed like nerds. I took out my whip and their eyes almost popped with anticipation. “One at a time,” I said and waved my finger.
I pushed the blonde one down on the conveyer belt; then, I dropped an 11-pound ball on his head. The delicious split and crack echoed. The brain is a wonderful fountain of blood….and he was still gurgling. How I love that sound in the back of the throat, the blood spilling into mouth. I shoved his body further down the conveyer belt into the hub and went looking for my second victim.
He was easy to spot, like an eager squirrel dancing around a tree to get a nut. I met him at the door to the back, which was conveniently close to the pins. I took a pin and hit him over the head, rendering him on his back. I took the pin and shoved the round knob into his mouth. It was such a tight fit that the delicate skin around his mouth was breaking. I slid his body closer to the opening where the pin machine was; and, analyzed the position of his head. Yeah, that was about right; and, I pushed the button like I had seen him do when I walked into the door. The levers came down, piercing his flesh. I had to give it to my coworkers: yeah, bowling is fun. Especially when it’s a violent strike in red!
