The Flowers of Hell
Posted by PK on June 30, 2003 at 16:13:31:
Flowers of Hell
by Morgan Drake
The Ophelia Press Inc, 1970
Chapter 1
The leather cuffs gripped her wrists tightly, pressing into the soft flesh and stretching the chains rigidly from
their fastenings in the ceiling. Her feet hung several inches above the cold concrete of the
floor and the full weight of her naked body pulled at her arm muscles. In spite of her
suspended position, Sharon's breasts retained their full contours, jutting proudly from her
chest with inviting sensuality. The enticing orbs heaved slightly with her quickened breathing
as she heard a scream of agony from somewhere in the chambers. It was the scream of a
girl and Sharon wondered what was being done to her.She glanced toward the naked man
who was suspended several feet from her and watched his penis rise to full rigidity at the
sounds of pain that drifted into the room. His nude flesh twitched from fear and desire and
the knowledge that exquisite pain was to be his lot. Against the far wall was the other girl,
naked like Sharon and th
man. Her body was spreadeagled against the wall, her wrists and ankles fastened to the
concrete by strong chains. The three of them hung there silently, avoiding each others eyes
and wondering who the others were. Recognition was impossible, as was speech. A gag was
wedged firmly into Sharon's mouth and her head was covered by a leather hood that was
buckled securely around her neck. The only openings were two slits for the eyes and one for
breathing. The others were similarly attired.Footsteps echoed in the distance of the hall,
moving unhurriedly, fully confident that the quarry could not escape. The steps came closer,
now identifiable as the sounds of high heels. A face peered through the small grilled window
in the wooden door. Then the knob turned and the door swung open. Framed in the doorway
was a woman of commanding presence. Her figure was encased in shining leather, from the
high-heeled boots to her buckled collar. Her gloved hand tapped a black leather whip against
her thigh as she surveyed
the helpless captives. A mask covered her eyes, but her lips curved slightly in anticipation of
cru elty ."Does anybody here want to be given a good whipping?" her voice echoed
musically in the concrete room. She glanced contemptuously from one to the other of the
silent victims, knowing that they could not reply. Then she laughed, "Of course you want to
be whipped! However, it really makes little difference what you want." The Domina strolled
over in front of the man and reached out with her coiled whip to caress the firm erection,
"Should I whip off that hard-on or jack it off?"She reached up a gloved hand and caressed his
chest, then ran her hand down to his bare belly. Her hand dropped lower and grabbed his
cock as he trembled in anticipation. She gripped the rigid organ tightly for a moment, then
dropped it. Laying her whip on the floor, the Domina stooped to unfasten the chain that
extended between the man's ankles. Lifting a chain that was attached to the floor, she pulled
his ankle over and fast
ned it to the cuff. She did the same to the other ankle, then straightened up to admire her
work. The man's legs were spread wide apart and his cock hung like a stiff pendulum
between them. The Domina slapped at the cock and it swung under the blow as the man
grunted at the sudden stab of pain. Picking up her whip, the leather woman stepped around
behind him and uncoiled the lash. She drew back her arm and slashed downward. The
supple leather curled around the man's chest with a sharp cracking sound and he emitted a
muffled scream as a trail of fire lanced into his naked flesh. Sweat glistened on his skin as
the whip dropped away from him. Panting with rapture, he waited for the next attack on his
helpless body.The whip slashed around his waist and sent fiery tingles of pleasure through
his abdomen. Panting and sweating, he writhed helplessly under the blows of the well-placed
whip. The whip marks began to cross each other and stood out starkly against the white of
his flesh. His stiff penis swayed and bo
nced with the jerking of his pain-filled body and a deliciously erotic feeling suffused his loins.
Without warning, his cock abruptly jerked and an ecstatic feeling coursed through its length
as hot semen spurted from the head and splashed onto the floor. The Domina saw the
ejaculation and, with practiced accuracy, brought the whip up between his legs. As the lash
curled up between his thighs, the man emitted a muffled scream and jerked his hips. His
cock bounced upward and ejaculated a stream of semen halfway across the room. The whip
played carefully on his crotch, just missing the testicles as he continued to ejaculate
uncontrollably . Watching him with fascinatiion, the bound girls trembled wih delicious terror
as they awaited the moment of their own torment. Sharon's nipples stood up as stiff
exclamation points from her soft white breasts and she panted with erotic desire as she
watched the hot semen spurting from the jerking male organ. The sound of the whip on his
naked flesh was the music of the d
mned. An exquisite symphony of agony that she would never have known if Beatrice had not
died.The small room would have been overpowering with sickening sweetness from the floral
displays if it had not been for the excellent air-conditioning system of the mortuary. Sharon
walked over to the casket in the center of the room with the trepidation of a person
unaccustomed to confrontation with the dead. She kept reminding herself that it was a
perfectly ordinary situation. After all the dead do not walk or move. Still, it seemed odd that
her aunt would not be moving. She had been Sharon's guardian since the death of the girl's
parents, when Sharon was very young. Beatrice Fairchild had been a wealthy woman and
had lavished her wealth on her orphaned niece.The death of the woman had been strange
indeed. She had been f'ound hanging in the basement of her mansion, clad in a peculiar
leather outfit. Her wrists were bound behind her by handcuffs and an overturned chair was
nearby. There were no indications of viol
nce. In truth, it appeared to be suicide. Sharon shook her head slowly in bafflement as she
gazed down at the serene face in the casket. The undertaker had done an excellent job, and
Beatrice simply appeared to be asleep. Still, there had been no reason for her to commit
suicide.Sharon had received the news while staying at the Biltmore Hotel in Los Angeles.
Shelley cut short her vacation and hurried back to Chicago to handle the funeral
arrangements. She was actually the only one who could do it, as she and her aunt were the
last of her family. Now Sharon was the only one left and the entire fortune was hers. She felt
very little elation about the matter. She turned to leave the room and her shoes sank into the
deep-piled carpet as she moved toward the door of the lobby. Sharon was almost to the door
when she suddenly felt a blow against her back. It was almost as though someone had
bumped into her from behind. She was thrown off balance and gave a small cry of surprise
as she fell toward the floor, tumb
ing partway into the lobby. One of the undertaker's assistants was carrying a floral display
across the room and glanced in her direction when he heard her voice. He quickly set the
display on the floor and hurried over to her."Are you hurt, Miss?" The man's voice was filled
with concern as he lifted her to her feet."I don't think so." Sharon brushed her hair back from
her face. "I don't know what came over me. I just suddenly started falling."The man nodded
with an understanding smile,. "Such things often happen when one is paying one's last
respects to the departed." He picked up her purse and handed it to her. "Times like these
often bring unexpected emotional reactions to the surface. Are you sure you feel all right
now?""Oh, yes," she smiled. "I'm quite all right now. Thank you so much for helping me."She
turned and strode quickly across the lobby. The funeral home was filled with the silence of
finality and she had to get out. She stopped at the huge glass doors to adjust her fur coat
around her nec
. The snow was still falling outside and the windows were coated with ice. She. could hear the
faint scrape of a snow shovel as someone cleaned the walk. Sharon pushed open the door
and snowflakes, driven by a brisk wind, stung her face. The sound of the snow shovel had
stopped and she looked around curiously, but could not see who had been doing the work;
he could not have been very energetic, because the sidewalk was still covered with snow.
Silence seemed to have descended on the world. Her shoes crunched into the old snow that
was hidden by the new fall as she walked carefully toward the Iimousine.Holding her head
down to keep the snow from her face, Sharon paid no attention to the chauffeur as she bent
to enter the car. Her thoughts were on her private problems. The chauffeur closed the door
behind her and went around to enter the driver's seat. As the engine purred into life, the long,
expensive machine pulled away from the curb. Sharon idly watched the houses pass by as
the car headed up La
alle Street. When it reached North Avenue, she was suddenly aware that there was no other
traffic in sight. There should have been a great deal of traffic problems on a day like this.
Even stranger, there were no cars parked at the curbs.She laughed off the matter lightly,
"Does traffic always have to be a mess?"The limousine curved through Lincoln Park and all
of the traffic lights were in its favor. In a few minutes, the vehicle was on the Outer Drive and
heading north along the shore of Lake Michigan. The complete lack of other cars on the road
was a puzzle to Sharon. The Outer Drive should have been quite busy at this time of day,
and the light snow drifts that blew across the highway were no explanation for the
phenomenon. Sharon shrugged off her concern. Convention activities in The Loop might
have tied up most of the cars. She settled back in the seat and watched the buildings drift by
on her left; tall, blank-faced apartment high-rises. The wall of modernity was broken now and
then by an older bui
ding that awaited the blows of progress.Turning off the Drive, the car weaved through white-
covered streets until it finally entered the driveway of a large mansion. It was a two-story
affair dating from the nineteen-thirties, surrounded by winter bare trees. The windows were
flanked by Colonial- type shutters that gave the place an air of comfortable permanence.
Light gleamed from the windows on the lower floor. The wheels of the limousine crunched on
the crisp snow as the car pulled to a stop in front of the entrance to the house. The chauffeur
stepped out of the car and walked briskly around to the other side to open the door for
Sharon. The girl climbed out and ran quickly up the front steps of the house. As she reached
for the door latch, she heard the car engine start again as the chauffeur drove around to the
garage.Stamping the snow from her shoes, Sharon pushed the door open and entered the
house. Silence greeted her as she closed the door. It was not unusual. At this time of the
night, the serva
ts were probably in the back of the house watching television. There was no sense in
bothering them when Sharon, herself, did not want to be bothered. Unbuttoning her coat, she
headed for the stairway leading up from the main hall. Her shoes tapped softly on the
carpeted stairs as she ran up to the second floor. Hurrying down the hall, she stepped into
her room and switched on the lights.Emotionally weary, Sharon dropped her coat on a chair
and began undressing. Without interest, she selected a nightgown and slipped it over her
well-formed figure. She switched off the light and her bare feet padded softly on the carpet as
she walked over to the bed. With a sigh of satisfaction, she crawled under the covers.The
telephone rang at one-thirty. Sharon pulled the covers over her head, but the ringing was
insistent. She finally threw off the covers in resignation and sat up on the edge of the
bed.Sharon snatched irritably at the phone and lifted it from its cradle, "Yes, who is
it?""Sector Superintendent," c
me the calm reply in a male voice. "You are to go down to the Chicago River
naked.""WHAT?" Sharon was speechless for a moment. In that interval of time, she heard
the phone cut off at the other end. She slammed the phone back in its cradle, "Of all the
times to get a crank phone call!" Sharon crawled back under the covers and burrowed her
head into the pillow. She was almost asleep when the phone rang again."Sharon Kilmer." It
was the same male voice,"l am accustomed to being obeyed. You will follow the orders I
gave you.""Are you crazy'!" Sharon flared back, "Look, Buster, I've heard of nuts who make
phone calls like this, but you called the wrong place. If you bother me again, I'll call the
police!"The man chuckled with obvious amusement. "You are being very foolish, Miss
Kilmer. I suggest that you attempt to adjust a little more gracefully. This is simply the
standard processing procedure, and I must insist that you follow my orders. Any further
hesitation on your part will only result in severe method
of persuasion."As she heard the phone disconnect, Sharon stared at it for a moment in
bewilderment. Then she rapidly flipped the dial as she called the police. After a moment of
waiting, she realized that the phone was dead and hung up. Crawling back under the covers,
she muttered, "At least I won't be getting any more crazy phone calls." She gradually
became aware of the increasing warmth in the room and threw off the covers. This helped for
a little while, but she was soon perspiring and her nightgown began to stick to her damp
flesh. She got out of bed and switched on the light, then walked quickly over to turn off the
heater. She found that it was impossible to turn the lever. Moving quickly over to the closet,
she snatched a robe from a hanger and slipped it over her shoulders as she headed for tbe
door. Opening it, she found the hall was just as warm as the bedroom. She pressed the
buzzer for the maid and waited for a moment, but there was no sound of activity."What in the
hell is going on around
here?"Sharon stepped irritably out into the hall and headed for the stairs. The servants'
quarters were on the lower floor and to the rear of the house. The heat was increasing
alarmingly as she ran down the stairs and toward the back of the long hall. She knocked on
the door at the end of the hall and got no reaction. Silence was the only response from the
other two doors but she finally opened one of them. Frantically, she looked in the other
rooms and found them all empty."Where is everybody?" Sharon called out in desperation.
She wiped the sweat from her face as panic began to build in her. "I'll be roasted if I stay in
here! I can't call the fire department on the phones. They don't work!" She slipped the robe
from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor as she ran toward the front of the house. Her thin
nightgown clung to her wet body like a second skin as she panted, "There's a fire alarm box
down the street."Jerking open the door, Sharon ran toward the opening and suddenly
bounced back as thou
h she had hit something solid. She tumbled to the floor and stared at the door in horror. The
falling snow could be seen clearly, but the house was getting hot as a furnace. Getting to her
feet, she ran toward the opening again and was once more hurled back into the house. The
heat was almost blistering in its intensity. In a state of near hysteria, Sharon grasped the hen
of her nightgown and pulled the garment upward. It caught at her ample breasts and she
jerked hard at the cloth. Her breasts bounced free and she pulled the gown over her head.
Sweat was streaming down her naked body and she shrieked in terror as she ran toward the
door. Nothing stopped her this time and she tumbled into the freezing snow. The door
slammed shut behind her.Panting from exhaustion, Sharon lay in the snow for a few minutes
as her body cooled off. Then the cold began to penetrate her body and she shivered as
goose bumps appeared on her flesh. The nipples of her full breasts stood up as hard pink
points and the soft white or
s bounced as she rose to her feet and hurried back to the door. She pushed at it, but it
refused to budge. Her naked body was shaking from the cold as she turned to walk along the
side of the house. As she turned the corner, a sudden snow squall pelted her unprotected
flesh with sharply striking snowflakes. Sharon backed away, but the snow continued to buffet
her. She tried to make it back to the front door, but the snow squall intensified.Sharon
stumbled backward under the pressure of the snow. Screaming hysterically, she turned and
began to run toward the street. The snow pelted her naked back as if it enjoyed what it was
doing. Terrified, Sharon ran before it and into the street. Her breasts swayed wildly as she
ran, and she knew, with almost mad certainty, that the snow was chasing her. She tried to
turn toward a house to seek help, but the squall countered her move and she was forced
back into the middle of the street. Sharon no longer resisted the goading wind and the snow-
covered street was cold ag
inst her bare feet as she raced away from her house. Her mind was numb with fear. She lost
all sense of time; there was no time to consider the fantastic fact that she was running naked
through the streets of a giant metropolis.Aching and freezing from the constant effort of
running, the girl found herself moving down Sheridan Road. She wanted to cry for help, but
there was no one to call to. No cars or people were to be seen on the streets or in the
buildings that lined her path. She was performing an act of insanity in a world that had
changed its condition without changing its form. Her lungs were burning from the effort, but
she still kept running. Without knowing how it happened, she found herself running down
Michigan Avenue. As she passed the Water Tower, she could hear the murmur of many
voices in the distance.Then she began to see people. "HELP ME!" she screamed.
"Somebody please help me!"She was now among them and they turned to look at her. They
looked like perfectly ordinary people - the men i
business suits, that you might see on any street. As Sharon ran past them, she tried to see
their faces, but was unable to focus on the features. They seemed to have no faces, and
Sharon thought fleetingly of the "faceless masses." Hands were raised and she saw that they
held what appeared to be pitchforks. The nearest one jabbed toward her and she felt the
searing pain of the tines sinking into her soft breast. The snow had stopped goading her, but
the faceless people were shoving their tridents toward her. She screamed as the tines of a
pitchfork sank into the soft mounds of her buttocks and the faceless people echoed her
shriek in a peal of insane laughter: Trickles of blood ran from the punctures in Sharon's flesh
as she was goaded toward the Michigan Avenue bridge.At the head of the steps down to the
lower level, Sharon paused for an agonizing moment and surveyed the scene. The railings
along the Chicago River were crowded with faceless masses of humanity, screaming
vulgarities at the ice-clogged ri
er. On the lower level, mobs of howling people were wielding their pitchforks with energetic
savagery. Naked men and women of all races were writhing and tearing at each other in a
mad attempt to crawl out of the icy waters. Their attempts were met by the constant
spearings of the weapons wielded by the faceless ones. Shrieking in terror, Sharon tried to
halt her descent into the icy abyss by holding onto the railing. The prodding of sharp tines
into her naked body finally forced her to release her hold and she ran down the ice-covered
steps.When she reached the lower level, the mobs below took over the mauling of the girl's
body. She shrieked in continuous pain as she was herded toward the edge of the river.
Suddenly, hands were clawing at her ankles, pulling her toward the water in their desperate
attempts to find a handhold to crawl out. Sharon fell toward the river. Then the icy water was
around her shivering body. Naked figures pressed against hers and she was gradually forced
farther into the river,
her screams mingling with those around her. Gripped in the struggling mass of nudity, she
felt male hands grabbing at her body. She felt fingers forced into her cunt, and screamed as
men fought for possession of her.Some males she could not see were pulling at her hair and
arms and grasping her breasts in cruel hands. She forgot the chilling water as she became
the center of a fantastic sex struggle. Under the bruising clutching of the hands, she felt
herself beginning to respond. She was panting as the figures fought far possession of her
cunt, and her nipples stood up in stiff erections at the feeling of savage fingers digging into
her soft breasts. Suddenly, she found herself jammed against the naked body of a snarling
black man. He was black as midnight and he held her soft white body crushingly against his
muscular torso. The chilling water glistened on their naked flesh as Sharon curled her arms
around his neck in a surrender to passionate desire.Chapter 2The thick lips crushed against
Sharon's and
he eagerly opened her mouth to admit the demanding tongue. As the tongue plunged in, she
met it in an open invitation to be taken. She tried to regain control of herself, but her mind
fought against her and she waged a futile battle against her responses as she seemed to be
viewing the horror from a neutral vantage point. Thoroughly involved in the terrors of the
river, she felt strange thrills course through her body as savage hands clutched at her
nakedness. The tongue exploring the inside of her open mouth weakened her resistance and
Sharon found herself responding.The girl let her thighs drift apart and she felt the hardness of
the Negro's cock ram against her crotch. It began to rub hard and forced the soft lips of her
vulva apart as she felt it lengthen. The male organ seemed to be growing to mammoth
proportions as it abraded her delicate flesh. Panting with uncontrollable desire, Sharon
wrapped her arms around the man's neck and sucked avidly at his tongue. She felt a
masochistic thrill at the pain
of his embrace and arched her hips to rub her cunt against the ever-growing cock. The
fantastic male organ extended past her buttocks, throbbing with savage power as the
grunting man rammed it hard against her vulva.Pulling back his hips, the black man
maneuvered his cock in an attempt to locate her entrance. A fear tingled through Sharon's
body as she suddenly real ized that the penis was well over a foot long and almost three
inches in diameter. In terror, she began struggling in an attempt to free herself as she
envisioned the damage it could do to her internal organs. She jerked her lips from his and
screamed hysterically as she felt the blunt head of the cock press against her vulva. But he
held her writhing figure in powerful arms as he concentrated on his goal.Sharon felt her vulva
begin to spread. It was only a small pain at first, but it grew to excruciating propertions as the
great cock forced her tissues farther apart. Agony lanced through her crotch as her body
reluctantly opened to receive th
monster organ. The screaming melee that surrounded them became nonexistent as
Sharon's full attention was centered on her own torment. Shrieking in agony, she felt her
body suddenly open in a blinking flash of pain as the cock rammed inside of her. Grunting
like an insane animal, the man tightened his grip around her waist and ripped his torturing
tool deeper into her vagina. The girl wished she could faint as the pillar of flesh tore its way
deeper into her protesting body, but something kept her continuously aware of what was
being done to her.Ripping into her vagina, the throbbing cock filled Sharon's belly like a
torture post and she groaned as it sank ever deeper. She knew that her ordeal was
impossible, but it was really happening. In the ice cold Chicago River, she was being fucked
while surrounded by screaming, writhing figures of the damned. She could dimly perceive the
banks of the river and the faceless masses who were jabbing their pitchforks at the howling
naked hordes that were trying to cl
mb to safety. She was vaguely aware that the invading male organ was beginning to move
inside of her tormented abdomen. The fiery pain of its motion suddenly generated a
sensation of exquisite delight, suffusing her belly with diabolical pleasure. Sharon tightened
her thighs around the man and panted with ecstasy as she felt the huge pole moving with a
powerful rhythm inside her. She gave no thought of the impossibility of such a monster organ
stretching her female chamber without killing her. It had been done and she was rapturously
involved in the delights it produced.Her surroundings faded into insignificance as she
concentrated on the pleasures that enveloped her body. Sliding in and out of her with
powerful strokes, the pounding cock rapidly drove Sharon to the heights of sexual enjoyment.
Her belly was suffused with a sense of impending wonders as the cock rammed into her like
an irresistible piston. With a grunt of accomplishment, the man rammed his penis all of the
way into her and she screamed at
the sudden agony. Her scream turned into shrieks of joy as she felt the male organ jerk
savagely and ejaculate a stream of burning semen into her belly. Her body rushed to meet
the invasion as an uncontrollable orgasm surged througb her like a tidal wave. Sharon and
the Negro shook with the energy expended by their climaxes. The hot stream of literally
boiling liquid ejaculated into Sharon's belly like a torrent, searing into her uterus as she
shrieked.Without warning, the man ripped his still-rigid cock out of Sharon's vagina. A stream
of hot liquid followed it and rose to the surface of the river, steaming and smelling of their
sexual union as it came into contact with the ice cold air. Screaming insanely, the black man
lost all interest in Sharon as he clawed his wey toward the shore and tore at the naked backs
that separated him from the bank of the river. In a moment, he was lost in the turmoil of the
damned. Dazed by the experience, Sharon floated aimlessly for a few minutes, jostled by the
naked fi
ures that seemed to fill the river by the thousands. Then she, too, began to claw at those
before her in a terrified attempt to get out of that howling mass.Almost out of her mind with
fear, Sharon crawled on top of the naked backs before her, slipping on the wet flesh and
finding herself jammed between struggling forms of both sexes. A hand grabbed at the soft
mound of her full breast and she screamed in pain as the fingers dug in. Then the hand lost
its grip on her slippery skin and she persisted in her efforts to reach the bank. Her progress
was slow and painful, sometimes helped by the pressure of the people around her. Suddenly,
her hands were clawing at the ice-rimmed river's edge."HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME!"
Sharon screamed as she stared up into the row of faceless tormentors. She saw a mouth
open in one of the indistinct visages and demoniacal laughter poured from it. The shoulders
hunched and the arms swept down. The girl experienced a lightning flash of agony as the
tines of the pitchfork pierced
er soft breast and sank deep. She went weak from pain and lost her hold on the river bank.