Posted by Ripper X on July 14, 2003 at 21:25:54:

Hello Gentle Reader.
Like I said yesterday, I have prepared a real treat for you today. Once in a while a story comes along and it raises the bar and becomes a new standard for how stories are judged. While some stories are known for being the first to say something new, or known for a heightened sense of erotica, this tale sets the standards for shear Intensity. A level of vivid madness that grabs the reader by the throat and forces them on a emotional roller coaster that they will never forget.
I had debated about chopping this tale up in smaller and easier to read sections, but with this tale it isn't really possible, and besides I don't want to spoil the emotions that this amazing story will make you feel. So here it is, all 45 glorious pages of it that I encourage you to try and read in one sitting. So if your at work or your kids are raising hell or whatever, download it and save it for when you have time to dedicate yourself to it, you'll be Grateful if you do.

ENJOY!!
-RIP

Hopeless
By: Ennui

She was pale and very tired. She stood on the edge of the San Vicente Bridge and looked into the black water. The choppy water barely glinted through the thickening fog. She could smell the dirty and briny water below, hear the obscene and distant sloshing.

A man stood in the shadows watching, curious, amused. There was a drama taking place here. He stopped and paid attention.

She mounted the guardrail. He watched and waited to see if she would jump. Rather than crying out to stop her, or rushing to save her, he opened another pack of Marlboros and lit up. If she had looked behind her at that point she wouldn't have seen him in the darkness, only the occasional bright red spot of a cigarette being smoked.

He appraised her carefully. He could see clearly through the fog that she was just another cheap teenage whore in a low cut mini-skirt, fishnets, and dirty worn out heels. Her upper thighs were bare. The thick eye makeup and too bright lipstick advertised her not unattractive wares. Her long black hair fell almost to her waist.

How many men has she fucked today? he wondered. How many has she sucked? How many has she taken up her ass? Was she HIV positive, yet? Was she a crackhead? Amusing and obscene little questions.

He watched her trying to persuading herself to do the obvious -- to jump into that water, to end whatever trivial pain and suffering had brought her to this, to feel the water rush over her head, the coldness sucking whatever last traces of futile resistance remained in her as she struggled for a few moments more, finally swallowing the dirty water -- and then floating in the blackness, one with the mystery. One with the water.

Debra mumbled to herself under her breath, distraught. Maybe I won't jump after all. I could just stand here and think about nothingness. No more panhandling. No more nameless cocks and leering perverts with money and strange desires. No more running from the police. No more cold nights, sleeping in stairways and rat-infested motel rooms. No more thinking of home... Yes... most of all, no more thinking of home. No more thinking of anything at all. How sweet that would be. Maybe she wouldn't jump, but just stand here and feel the tug of two worlds calling and think about how things could have been, until her mind was made up. Debra knew she was neither wise nor very decisive. Otherwise, how would she have got here?

She heard slow footsteps behind her. Police? She hugged a supporting beam and tried to make herself small and invisible. If she had to, she would jump. There was no way she was going to be arrested tonight, and no possible way she would ever return home. Everything was hopeless.

A man entered the circle of light cast by the streetlamp, first his feet, then his legs, and finally his shoulders. He stopped and puffed on a cigarette. The wind blew his smoke into the light, as it blew her hair away from the bridge and over the water. It was obvious that he could see her, and was only watching -- that he was going to calmly do nothing.

They were both still in the moist late night air, looking at each other, listening to the water, hearing the sounds of the foghorn in the distance. She realized he wasn't going to do or say anything to interfere. She also realized that she didn't want to do it here, tonight. Whatever final decisions she needed to do were private, and should be done in private.

She began to climb back over the guardrail when he walked up as if to help her.

"I don't need any help", she told him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm just fine, thank you." He stood directly in front of her now on the other side of the guardrail. He reached out anyway and grabbed her shoulders. She started to resist and back away but looked down and realized that this was not a place to resist anything. "Hey! Leave me alone! I don't need any of your goddam help! Stop or you're going to make me fall in!"

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

She was stunned... she hadn't thought that she could actually be in danger from this creep. Hell, she had been planning to kill herself! What harm could this stupid bastard possibly think he could do her? She felt a fierce anger in her as she shrugged his hands off her shoulders and tried to side step away from him to another part of the guardrail, but he followed.

"Stop it, goddam you! Leave me alone or I'll scream!"
"Why don't you? You could have already."

She looked him over. He was wearing sunglasses at three in the morning in the middle of winter. Was he on drugs?

"In fact, you could have jumped already any time that you wanted. That is what you were going to do, isn't it? Did you really stop just for me?" His voice became soft as his head came closer to her ear. "Do you really want to die right now?"

Debra was scared and angry. "Yes and if you don't leave me alone I am going to jump."

"Then jump, bitch." He backed off a step and puffed on his cigarette, smugly.

She glared at him and tried to sidestep on the ledge but he followed her casually. Finally she turned and yelled at him, "Just what exactly do you want from me?"

He paused and looked her up and down, from her scuffed pumps to the runny tear-driven mascara of her eyes. "You sell your ass, don't you?"

"Yes! Is that what you want?" She fumed. Of course that was what he wanted. She climbed over the rail towards him, more in control of an ugly but more comprehensible situation -- just another filthy degenerate who wanted to use her body to squirt his cum and disappear back into the anonymous city.

"How much do you want?" he asked.

"Are you a cop?"

"Oh really, now. Do you think I'm a cop?"

She knew he wasn't but demanded an answer anyway. "Well?"

"No, I'm not a cop. I want to use you."

She was eye to eye with him now. "$100 for a blowjob. $200 for a fuck."

"$100? Hehe... I bet you've never got more than $50."

She simmered but stared him down. "Ok, $50."

"But I didn't offer you $50. I merely pointed out that that is all you probably got for one before."

"You cheap miserable bastard. How much do you really expect to pay?"
He dragged on his cigarette again. "What do you need?"

"I told you, $100 goddam dollars!"

"No. What do you really need? What would solve all your problems?"

She didn't know what his game was but if he was talking big money she would play along for a while at least. "I need $5,000."

"I can give you more than that, tonight."

"And what do you want for the $5,000?" She knew it couldn't be good and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. $5,000 would go a long way. She could rent an apartment maybe, get her act together, buy some time to make plans...

"Come home with me now and do whatever I want..."

She followed willingly, like a lamb. She suspected his motives. This could be something kinky and it could be a scam. She considered the possibility that he was part of some religious cult. She didn't know if the money was real. The bridge would still be there if she needed it.

Shades offered her a smoke and she took it as they entered a tall and very old building in the industrial part of L.A.

******

She sat in the bathtub and tried to relax. She looked much younger and more vulnerable with her makeup gone and her clothes off. She especially felt vulnerable with her breasts exposed to the man who watched her. Despite what she had been doing to survive for the past couple of months, exposing her breasts always made her feel that way. She always tried to keep her bra on when she sucked their cocks or let them fuck her. Having her tits mauled didn't bother her nearly as much as having to merely endure the stares of hungry men. As she soaked in the tub, his eyes watched them bob in the water as she washed them for his pleasure. The nipples grew stiff and red with her scrubbing.

There was the possibility that he might not pay her all the money. After going up the freight elevator to his dank and cold room, he had taken her to a cash box, and shown her not just $5,000, but $10,000. He had given her $200 straight out and promised her whatever she needed after he had used her. She didn't trust him to give her as much as she wanted, but $200 was still a lot to her, and it was worth doing whatever amused him.

He wouldn't tell her what exactly he wanted but left the matter open and asked her if he wasn't offering enough. It was enough all right. She would have let him have almost anything he wanted just for the $200, including a sexy little bath.
It still felt like a weird scene. She was afraid of him. Despite her intentions of earlier, she was surprised to find herself still capable of mortal fear for her life.

He came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured two glasses and offered her one. She hadn't had wine in quite a while and couldn't refuse the offer. He freely gave her refills. It became easier for her to relax into the tub, letting the hot water soothe her body.

She still felt his eyes on her large bobbing breasts, but she became more comfortable with it. She sighed and took her time washing them, lifting them for his eyes and washing underneath, molding them and pressing them.

He poured a pot of water at just the right warm temperature and carefully poured it over her head so she could wash her hair. She tried to answer his questions as she shampooed the best she could.

"How long have you been selling your pussy?"

Questions. Sigh. "Two months. I've been in Los Angeles four months."

"Where are you from?"

"Do you really need to know?"

He poured some more water on her head so she could lather again. He admired the delicate curve of her neck and wondered about the pendant on a gold chain she wore. He was cautious. He probed her with questions slowly so she wouldn't become too defensive and shut up. There would be a right time for the more penetrating questions later.

"No, I don't suppose I need to know right now. How many cocks have you sucked?"

Whatever turned him on. "In the past two months? I don't... know..." She thought hard as she leaned forward to rinse her hair as he poured some more water over her head. "I guess maybe twenty five?"

"And how many before the last two months?" He saw her stiffen and he changed the subject, pouring more water over her head for her to rinse again.

"Actually, I'd rather know how many you've fucked for money in the last two months."

She threw her hair back and reached for a towel to dry her face. "I don't know... I guess about just as many... maybe twenty five." She knew this question and answer game was getting him off and she would give him his money's worth.

"And how many have you taken up your ass?"
"None! And I'm not going to."

"Even for $10,000?"

She paused at that and didn't answer. She laid back in the water and tried to stare him down but it was difficult with him wearing those stupid sunglasses. She knew she would do whatever he wanted for that much money... even for half that much money. She felt certain that it was just another false hope but she felt helpless to resist this game that he was playing. He could sense her weakness and was trying to exploit it, just as every man she had ever known had done, all her life.

"Lift your leg now. I want you to wash your pussy for me."

She tried to watch his expression as she lifted one leg over the edge of the claw tub and exposed her pussy to his gaze. She took the bar of soap and washed herself under the water, rubbing the bar of soap slowly up and down against her lips.

"On your knees, please. Wash it from behind."

She did as she was asked. She moved to her knees in the tub, feeling the cold air on her back, which had become accustomed to the nice hot water. Her breasts felt good resting beneath her in the warm water. She looked back over her shoulder at him as she spread her legs and rubbed her pussy from underneath, outside the water. Her bush became white with lather.

He placed his cigarette in an ashtray and reached out. She stopped moving and let him rub the soap into the lips of her pussy and into the cheeks of her ass. Perhaps it was the wine, or the heat of the water, but she felt the first arousal she had felt in a long time and she tried not to resist it too much. His fingers slipped inside of her pussy easily, and she gasped. She faced forward and moved her hips in time with his probing.

His fingers withdrew, and she felt one pressing against her now soapy asshole. She swallowed air and leaned back. Will he fuck me there tonight? She told herself no, that she would not let that happen, but a part of her knew she would not resist that either, even as she didn't resist the slow and gentle penetration of his finger. Her hair fell forward into the water and she looked at the reflection of her reddening face and the bare light bulb of the dingy bathroom as he finger fucked her soapy asshole. She had lied. It wouldn't be her first time, but she would never talk about that.

It had been a while since she had had a bath, and the water was soapy and dark now, like dishwater. Like the water under the bridge, she thought. But that water would have been cold... very cold. She could have been that cold right now. Instead she was on her knees in a bathtub with a scary man pushing and pulling his finger in and out of her relaxing asshole, waiting for only God knew what, anticipating the remote possibility that she might get enough money to rent a room for a while, to wash herself clean in privacy, and to think things out in privacy
"On your back in the water, again."

She changed positions again and looked at him. Was he getting hard? She couldn't tell from the way he was sitting, but she knew he probably was. She felt the alcohol and relaxed again into the water almost to the point of submerging her face as she waited for him to tell her what he really wanted.

"Here. Take this." He offered her a small white pill.

She snickered to herself. She would have taken it from anybody else but not from this guy. "No thank you, but I would like some more wine."

He turned to prepare her another glass. "It actually is a good wine. You have a good palate." When he turned back to her, he offered her a glass in one hand and held another for himself. He smelled the bouquet and gestured for her to do so too, and she willingly did. "It's an imported German Zinfandel." They drank together.

He reached into the water and pulled up one of her feet and began to soap it. It felt amazingly good and she tried not to laugh. In fact it felt so good that she began to sigh and lean forward, letting him have as much of her foot and leg as he wanted. This wasn't all bad at all. She offered him the other foot on her own, and he smiled and took it and gave it the same loving care.

"You know, I think this might actually be one of the best baths I've had in a long time."

He smiled. "Water is spiritual."

"Spiritual?"

"In mythology, water always represents the spiritual. We cleanse ourselves in the waters, as we cleanse ourselves of sins and guilt." He soaped her between her toes and she wiggled them. "We are born from water. We are carried for nine months in water safely in our mother's womb and thrust into a very cold world. Is it any surprise that when we should return to water it should have great meaning for us?"

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Yes... we are born in water. Sometimes we die in water."

She felt a sudden chill go up her spine and her hand splashed in the dirty water, but his slow and patient handling of her foot relaxed her once more.

"We die and return to dust, and the dust is born by the clear rain of heaven to rivers, and the rivers to the sea. Life began in the sea. Did you know that?" She shook her head. "We are all the great-grandchildren of the algae and bacteria and small scuttling life forms of an ancient primeval sea." He wiggled her big toe back and forth. She tried not to smile but did anyway.
"There aren't many rivers around here. Just sewers. They aren't exactly very spiritual, you know."

"Oh yes they are. Even the sewers." He started to tickle the insole of her foot but stopped when he saw her face start to break. Instead he rubbed it in slow circles with the palm of his hand. She thought to herself, this man is probably a good lover when he isn't preaching and acting weird. Her pussy was still wet from before, and she felt her nipples becoming distinctly hard. She resisted an impulse to touch them with her fingers.

"The sewer carries our waste products to the sea. It carries the filth that a filthy society produces. But even filth can be a source of nutrition in the chain of life. There are organisms in the water that feed on the filth and purify it. Even the most lowly turd floating in a sewer is a ripe meal for a bacteria or mold in the darkness."

As he spoke, she wiped some of the soapy lather that was running down her leg into the warm but now cooling water between her thighs.

"And those molds and bacteria are just another part of a chain of life that will float eventually to the clean blue ocean."

"You're some kind of fucking preacher, aren't you? I knew it all along."

He splashed her feet in the water. "No, I'm not a fucking preacher..."

"Sorry..."

"You really want to know what I am?"

He had her rinse off and stand up.

"Whoa!" she cried. She was so dizzy that she nearly fell down. The tub was slippery as were her feet. She leaned against the wall as he tried to dry her off with a large, soft towel. When he was through she tucked it around her breasts and got out of the water with his assistance.

"I'm a little woozy right now, and... You know, that was very good wine you gave me!" she commented in a singsong voice. He was very solicitous now as he tried to help her down the hall and into a bedroom. She actually found herself trying to chat with him.

"Lie down here." They hugged as he turned her around. She smiled at him and then fell backwards on the bed with arms to each side like a crucifix.

"Close your eyes." She closed her eyes and listened. She could hear every breath he made in the still quiet of the room. None of the sounds of the street or the ocean reached here. She could hear him opening a drawer and rummaging for something. Climbing onto the bed, he unwrapped the towel from her body and didn't move for several minutes. She almost peeked to see what he was doing. Was he slobbering or whacking off? His breathing was slightly faster now.
A hand reached out and touched the flesh of her breast, rolling the nipple, testing it. She felt herself becoming wetter and rubbed her legs together, unconsciously. His other hand cupped her breast as if weighing it. He ran his hands across her collarbone, and across her throat, rubbing her smooth skin with his thumbs. "Excellent... Roll over on your stomach", he told her.

"Ok." She rolled over and felt woozier than before. She was starting to realize that she had drunk something that was more than just wine, but somehow that didn't matter right now. She felt very relaxed and comfortable with everything that he was doing. Her towel lay bunched beneath her head.

She heard him taking his clothes off.

"Are you going to..."

"Shhh..." he whispered to her, and she quieted. She knew what he was going to do and was ready for it. She heard his shirt and pants hitting the floor next to them. The room was heated and the air was warm on her wet skin. He straddled the backs of her slightly spread knees. He's going to try to fuck me in the ass, she thought, but suddenly, she realized that she didn't really care. He was nice to me, she thought. Be nice to him, too. The drug didn't make it very difficult at all.

He leaned over her. She could feel his breath on her neck as he reached for her hands and pulled them over her head. His hard cock bounced against her ass. Suddenly, she felt the cold metal shackles encircling her wrist

"Ummm... You don't need to do that... I'll let you do what you want."

"Shhh..." he whispered. He pulled her hair back and slipped something around her head. "Open your mouth." She did and felt him insert a ball. As she realized that she was not just cuffed but gagged, she opened her eyes and tried to look back and resist. He smiled and removed his sunglasses showing her his black little eyes in the dim light. She tried to scream and beg him to let her go but could hardly even mumble.

She was very weak now from the drugs he had slipped her. He had no trouble subduing her kicking ankles and cuffing them too. It was easy for him to lift her naked and shackled body in his arms and carry her down the hall to a room -- another dingy room, a larger closet of sorts, this lit only by the light from the hallway. She pleaded with her eyes as he lay her nude body down on a small chewed up mattress.

His manner was changed now. She might as well have been a sack of potatoes being stored away. Her mute but pained facial expressions meant little to him. She looked back, pleading silently as he shackled her wrists securely to the wall. Maybe this is just some perverted joke of his, she thought desperately. His silhouette looked back at her from the doorway. He waved politely, and then the door was closed. She realized that it wasn't just dark, but that she was totally enveloped in blackness.

She was dazed but not so dazed she couldn't cry or think of how she had been deceived. She cried into the dirty mattress until she passed out.

She dreamt of the black water that had roiled yards beneath her only hours earlier. At some point during the night she felt something small crawl across her leg. She tried to scream but nothing came out.

******

Debra slept and woke many times in the next several hours. It was not a comfortable position and she felt cold. Worse, there was some kind of insect in here and she couldn't swat it with her hands or feet, but only squirm and thrash until it went away, only to return later. She had not slept well in the last few days before this. She had thought that life at home had been desperate and unbearable, but Los Angeles had turned out to be even more so.

Fatigue and wine and some kind of drug combined to make it possible for her to doze off many times. When she was awake she listened to noises. She played with her shackles but there was no give.

Hours passed. Eventually she heard the sound of boot heels outside the door. She held her breath. The door was thrown open in a blaze of blinding light. She squinted as she looked at his silhouette in the doorway. She had become used to the darkness and she realized that the harsh light was only from the light bulb in the hallway. She automatically tried to reach to shield her eyes but the shackles were just short enough to prevent her.

He unchained her from the wall and picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom and laying her on her stomach. She mumbled through the gag and he responded this time, pulling it from her mouth. She gasped for air and gasped a husky thank you.

"What are you going to do with me? When can I go?" she gasped.

"Are you hungry?"

"Please, just tell me? I don't want the money anymore..."

He forced the gag back in her mouth and pinched her nose. She snorted for a few seconds before the panic really set in. She began to shake her head furiously, suffocating, but he held her still. He whispered, "I'm going to let you breathe again in a second, but I want you to remember how easily I can do this, and that your life could be ended just like this, in a matter of minutes. I don't want any hysteria scene right now, just obedience. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
She tried to mumble around her gag. Finally she tried nodding her head vigorously. "Good girl," he told her as he released her nose. She snorted frantically for air. He removed the gag and uncuffed her wrists. She rubbed them to get circulation going again. She wanted to ask for a towel, anything to put over her body, but she was afraid to say anything and stayed silent.

He had her get on her knees and bend over the bed. As he unzipped his pants, she thought to herself, let him have what he wants. Maybe once he gets what he wants he'll be easier to deal with.

He rubbed her pussy with something sticky and slippery and she could hear him rubbing it on his cock. Suddenly he was pressing into her pussy from behind. She sighed and pressed back. He slapped her ass a few times as he fucked her hard.

"You have such a beautiful little ass. It's been a while since I actually fucked a whore." He thrust hard. She was cold and her knees hurt and he was very large inside of her. She wondered how long it would take him to cum. He pulled her hair as he filled her with his hot steamy sperm. He made her lick him clean when she was done.

When it was over she stared at him. He had said something about food. That meant he wasn't going to kill her at least. She climbed on the bed and waited while he made her a plate of take out Chinese food and rice. While they ate, he asked her more questions.

"You don't like fucking, do you?"

"I would have enjoyed it more last night after you got me high."

"You liked my wine, didn't you?"

"Yes. The drugs weren't too bad, either."

He smiled and opened his fridge and removed some more wine and poured a glass for both of them.

"But you don't generally enjoy sex."

It wasn't a question so she didn't answer it.

"Do you?" he finally asked.

"Of course I do. I just love sex with you. You were marvelous."

He laughed. "You were dry as a fucking dog bone."

"Thanks."

He made a reaching motion as if he were going to pinch her nose and she backed away in horror. He merely chuckled. "Eat your food." She did. She was ravenous. "We have a lot to do tonight."

When they were through he cuffed her again. There was no point in resisting yet so she offered her wrists voluntarily. He pulled the blankets back and had her lay on her back on the black bed sheet, her hands bound to the headboard. He unshackled her ankles and bound them to the corners of the bed, spreading her wide open. She began to shiver as she realized how vulnerable she was. She had to resist hard the impulse to ask him what he was planning to do to her body.

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a black toolbox. He laid on the bed several very sharp and frightening looking instruments, the sight of which made her blood run cold with fresh fear. She began to sob, quietly. He chose a long thin needle about 8 inches long. He felt it's sharp point and seemed satisfied.

"Should I gag you again?"

"Please... don't hurt me..."

He reached for the gag. She tried to beg him not to do this as he pushed the round ball into her mouth. Satisfied, he laid down between her legs and removed his sunglasses. She arched her neck and back, trying to see what he was doing but it was difficult.

He began to lick her clit and rubbed it with his fingers. She was scared but she felt the slightest bit of response. Apparently he didn't need that much. She felt the sharp tip of the needle pressing against the side of her clit and trembled, staring at the ceiling.

This can't possibly be happening!

The water was so close, yesterday.

As he pressed the needle through her clit, he heard the muffled sound of her scream through the gag. There was only a little blood. He knew how much more he could make her bleed if he wanted to. Her clit felt extremely hot now. He could feel the blood pulsing through it and it excited him. There was a temptation to rip it out and see the blood flow faster but he resisted. I can always do that later, he thought. As she tried uselessly to close her legs, he began to work a sturdy metal ring through the small opening.

There was sweat in Debra's eyes and she tried to blink it away. The pain was intense but the agony of the ring insertion was over. Now there was just the blinding throbbing feeling in her pussy. She couldn't believe that she had actually responded to the licking that had started this. She realized that he had only done that to make her clit more prominent and easier to penetrate, an easier target for his torture.

Why didn't I jump?

He took a hot soldering iron and soldered the ring shut. The heat penetrated the ring and she could feel the burning. "I don't think you'll be removing this anytime soon at all. In fact, never," he told her.

He released her arms from the bed. She reached automatically to cover her pussy, felt the still warm ring, and the strong metal chain that was attached to it. She felt intensely defiled. She reached for her gag and ripped it out herself, screaming at him, "You bastard!! You fucking, insane, sadistic bastard!!"

He was putting his things away but he turned around now and looked at her. He grabbed the chain and began to tug. Her anger quickly turned to fear and pain as she tried to hold onto her end. "I've had enough of that for now." She knew enough to shut up but the anger remained with the pain.

After he recuffed her, he led her back to her mattress, led by the chain. Every swing of the chain brought new tears to her eyes, so she followed quickly and closely. She was shackled again by her wrists to the wall. He locked the chain between her thighs to another very large iron ring, and stood up to survey his work.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do with you, yet. You might make my mind up for me, based on your behavior", he told her. He leaned closer to her. "What are you thinking right now, I wonder? Escape? Where the fuck would you escape to? Back to selling your body? Or would you go home?" He saw the fear in her eyes when he said that and he smiled knowing that he had her weak spot. "Oh yes! Maybe you could give Daddy a collect call and have him come pick you up!"

She bit her lip from her desire to shout him down, to tell him what a miserable, insane fuck he really was. All she could do was look down and listen.

"That's right, keep quiet for now. You never know when I might decide to give this a tug!" He only reached for her chain but she shrieked and cringed against the wall. He laughed, delighted by the reaction.

"Hmmm... Or would you finish what you started to do? Would you like that? I have some wonderfully sharp blades in my room. I could sit and watch you slit your wrists, the blood flowing from your veins."

She cringed at the word blades. "Do knives scare you?"

He waited for an answer. Finally she gasped the word "Yes."

"The blood would be so beautiful though. You have such clear white skin. Marvelous skin. The contrast of the blood would be so marvelous. I could take pictures. And you would be relieving yourself of so much pain to come. You might regret this lost opportunity, later. In fact, I'm sure you will."
She began to shake. "Please," she whispered. "Please, let me go? Don't hurt me..."

"Shut up." Her lips closed tightly immediately. "You're really afraid of pain, aren't you? Do you know how many people would pay to have their clit pierced like I did to you tonight! You're a very weak little girl. What is your name?"

"Tiffanie."

"Oh, please! Don't give me some bullshit hooker name. What's your real name?"

"Debra."

"Your whole name?"

There was a pause as she clearly resisted answering this, but a slow reaching motion for the chain brought a quickly uttered response. "Debra Fisher!"

"I'm pleased to meet you, Debra Fisher. You can call me Shades." He paused for a moment. "Why didn't you want to tell me your name? Oh yes, I see it now... Daddy dearest." he announced with a big grin. Her eyes opened wide. "He wouldn't be very happy finding his little girl was selling her ass for $50 a pop, now would he? He's probably pining his little heart out as we speak, worrying about your pure little virginal pussy. Well... don't worry. I won't be calling him. We're just too happy being together like this, you and I, to ruin the fun. We are having fun, aren't we?"

He paused again, thinking. "You know", he said, "if you change your mind and want me to call him for you, just let me know. I promise I will."

She didn't have to decline. He could see it in the resignation in her eyes. She would much rather have jumped in the water.

"I'll leave your arms cuffed for a few more days so you don't disturb your clit. It's still healing." He shackled her feet and inserted the gag. As he closed the door that left her in darkness, he whispered "Sweet dreams, Debra."

******

She was floating serenely under and through the water. Occasionally a bubble would emerge from her mouth and spiral upward through her loose black hair. Her arms stretched out to both sides, listlessly, as she was carried and rotated by the underwater currents. It was dark down here. Occasionally some glowing creature -- a jellyfish, a squid, a fish with stalks for eyes -- would come close and examine her, and continue on its way to whatever mysterious mission summoned it. Her foggy gray eyes scanned an underwater netherworld.

She was carried by the currents into beds of long streaming kelp, brown and dark green, and her legs became entangled. Her body spun in a circle around a vine, and she became covered with more vines. The kelp seemed to move of its own accord now, wrapping itself around her nude white legs sensuously in spirals. It wound around her waist and up across her breasts, caressing them. More vines encircled her arms and wrists, and pulled them over her head. Her hair floated around her like a huge black halo.

Her stiff body began to tug against the vines but they held her very securely. One was pressed against her pussy and rubbed, back and forth, sliding between her tightly closed legs, it's cold leaves gracefully licking her thighs.

She woke up in the dark, sweating. She was still bound. She realized the metallic clinking sound between her legs was from the chain attached to the ring in her clit. It ached slightly and she squeezed her legs tightly, wishing she could touch it. It felt on fire and she worried it might be infected.

She rolled onto her stomach the best she could, onto a cold part of the mattress. The coolness was soothing. She pushed her pelvis into the mattress, grinding, trying to relieve the irritation. The chain wrapped around her leg and clinked gently with every little motion, cold where she was cold, but hot where she burned.

She tried to spread her shackled legs at the knees, and maneuvered her body against the edge of the mattress. She sighed. It touched her right where she wanted it. It was painful, but like a sore tooth that must be sucked, she could not leave it alone. Rubbing it gently and rhythmically, she felt her whole body beginning to respond. Her nipples were very hard and she was becoming drenched. She realized that it was more than just irritation now, that she was masturbating, trying to cum, hoping for some kind of relief from the nagging sensations between her legs. She shook her arms furiously, wishing she could touch it with her fingers, and feeling helpless.

She thought the orgasm would give her relief, but it didn't. The itching and throbbing continued and was distracting. She dozed off and woke up a few more times, only to seek relief each time, humping her frustrated body against the mattress.

******

There was light from the doorway. Shades was back. "Rise and shine," he said, cheerfully. He unshackled her legs, removed her gag, and led her by her chain back into his bedroom, where the smell of food instantly had her mouth watering in anticipation. But first he wanted sex again. Of course.

He uncuffed her wrists and lay down with her, touching her. He held her naked body against his as he kissed her deeply, licking her lips and biting them gently. He inspected her between her legs.

"There's not much blood here but you seem irritated. You've been playing with yourself, haven't you?"

"How could I? You had me chained?"
"Apparently that wasn't enough to stop you", he said with a smile. She blushed and didn't answer this. He retrieved a warm wet towel and cleaned her between her legs. The moisture was so soothing that she found herself spreading her legs willingly and even arching her back. He seemed to enjoy this as much as she did. When he was through, she thanked him.

He seemed a little surprised but pleased by that. "You can show me your gratitude by sucking my cock."

She was prepared for that, and threw her long black hair behind her and began to suck him. As he closed his eyes and relaxed, she slowly licked it up and down. It would be so easy to bite him, she thought. But the clinking sound between her legs, and the chain in his hand reminded her of the pain he could inflict. She focused her mind only on his cock and took it deep in her mouth, doing those things that she knew would make him cum the fastest. When he came, he held her mouth down on his cock and made her swallow every drop, rubbing her throat to feel each gulp she made. She rose her head after this, her face flushed red, panting for air, her lips sticky with his taste, waiting for his reaction.

He was pleased and let her eat some of his spaghetti, with red wine, and he freely gave her more when she wanted it. Afterwards, he led her down the hall to a bathroom and, ignoring the claw tub, locked her chain to the shower stall so she could take a shower. "Make yourself clean", he told her as he turned on the water and pushed her into the shower. He left her to herself.

The water was so refreshing! She played with it, taking it in her mouth, wetting every point on her body, soaping her arms and legs and face and breasts. There was shampoo! She reached for it but stopped when she realized, she really was alone. The door was even closed.

She looked the room over carefully while the water drummed on her back, trying to make up her mind what to do and how much time she had to do it. She stepped out of the water. The room was cold after the moist heat. She could reach the mirror, and the toilet, and some towels. There was a window on the other end of the bathroom! There was no way of reaching it from here with the chain locked as short as it was. She held it tightly to keep it from clinking too much as she craned her neck on tiptoe, trying to look out. Maybe if she climbed up on top of the toilet seat... but no, that didn't work either.

She began to worry that she might not have too much time. There was no medicine chest, nothing sharp that she could use as a tool or weapon. Frustrated, she climbed back into the shower to wash herself and think. There was no obvious plan. She hugged herself tight and choked a sob.

When he came for her minutes later, she was wrapped in a towel. Her hair was almost dry. She had had time to relieve herself and even brush the taste of him from her mouth.

Back into the darkness, she went.
The next evening it was more of the same, except this time he wanted to pierce her nipples.

She was unshackled when he told her what he was going to do. She climbed the bed and backed away in fear when she saw the needle, but the presence of the chain reminded her that there was no resistance here. She was even the one that asked that he bind her, this time, because she didn't think she could take the pain without fighting and hurting her nipples in the process. He thought this was wise and did so.

He played with her nipples with an ice cube to get them hard, tweaking them between thumb and forefinger, before inserting the long and nasty looking needle through each nipple in turn. She bit her tongue and tried not to flinch away. There were no chains this time, just small but very durable gold rings, again soldered shut. They went through each nipple, reddened and swollen to double in size from the pain and irritation.

Each night she lay shackled and gagged. Sometimes the ring in her clit would irritate her enough to make her need to cum against the mattress. The rings in her nipples only made them cold and sensitive, and she had to sleep on her back. Whenever she would fall asleep, she would dream. Usually they were nightmares.

When he wanted her, he came for her and fucked her body repeatedly, teaching her how he liked her to move, how he liked her to suck him, and lick him.

The first time he wanted to fuck her anally, she didn't flinch or try to resist. She had expected it the first night. He was only the second man who had ever done this to her, and he was huge. The feelings still took her by surprise. He was careful enough to lubricate her with hot oil as she lay tied to the bed on her tummy.

When he entered her, she bit a pillow and tried helplessly not to whine, failing miserably. He seemed to enjoy the little sounds of desperation that she made. She tried to make herself as open as she could while he fucked her senseless. Her pussy was open and empty beneath her, the ring irritating her swollen and lonely, ignored clit as the chain swayed back and forth with each thrust inside of her.

By the time he groaned and came inside of her, his cock as deep as he could get it, she was frustrated out of her mind. She didn't want to let him know how excited she was. Later she would cum by humping the mattress while feeling sorry for herself and nursing the hatred that she felt.

Hatred for him, for everybody. But mostly, hatred for herself.

Usually he was impatient and wanted to use her right away. She would get to eat and clean herself afterwards. Worse was when he let her clean and eat first. Then he would use her for hours and send her to her mattress, sticky and covered with his cum. The taste of him on her breath, on her breasts and lips and skin would remain for hours.
She calculated that she must be sleeping for sixteen hours a day. He kept her locked in the dark almost the entire day. She would only come out when he needed her. The rest was spent in sleep, delirious dreams, and the very unwelcome moments of wakefulness in the dark when she had only herself for company, a very unwelcome companion. Oblivion and nightmares were so much more welcome. Masturbation became a constant escape mechanism.

A day came when she mentioned how the lamp was too intense. He laughed and showed her it was only a forty-watt bulb. He had left the lights on for her comfort! He turned out all the lights and replaced them with candles and told her he preferred these anyway.

He took his sunglasses off. His eyes were like little black marbles in his head.

That night, after he had fucked her in all three holes, he let her sleep in one of his flannel shirts. The material felt warm and soothing on her skin. She had been nude for days. This time he didn't shackle her wrists or ankles, nor did he gag her. She was chained securely to the wall next to the mattress only by the chain between her legs.

She luxuriated in the sensation of the flannel on her skin. And she loved being able to spread her legs and fuck herself with her fingers when she was alone.

He was gone for two days, she figured. It must have been at least two days. Her stomach cried out for food. Her sleeping was fitful and periodic. Something was wrong. She realized with a knot of fear that he might have left her here forever. She might starve and die in this room. In her frustration she played with the chain, looking for weaknesses. She probed the wall and the ring in the wall, afraid to claw at it lest she leave marks. It didn't even wiggle. She could barely move two feet from the mattress in any direction.

But he did return. His face seemed flushed in the dim light and he smelled of alcohol. He whispered and told her to be very quiet, and that he had a wonderful surprise. Leading her to a closet where there was a chair, he removed her shirt, and for the first time in days, he shackled and gagged her. He muffled her chains with towels. "If you make any sounds, I will surely kill you. Trust me on this", he whispered to her. He closed the closet door and told her "Enjoy the show." Her urgent need to go to the bathroom that had been foremost in her mind was quickly moved to a back burner.

The lights were turned up. Through the blind slits she could see him leave the room. He returned shortly with a tall, blonde girl, slightly older than Debra, dressed in a short black lurex sheathe that exposed a lot of cleavage. Her hair was blonde and curly. From the formal way that they were both dressed, she guessed that they might have been clubbing. The girl was giggly and appeared to be intoxicated as she clung to Shades. Her expression became more somber as she checked out Shade's studio apartment.

"Wow, you like it dark in here. Do you ever take off those sunglasses?" she asked. Shades just smiled.
"Only when I make love, Annabelle", he whispered to her.

"Ummm... Say, listen, you know I can't spend the night, OK? My mom would have a shit fit. But I can stay long enough to read those poems of yours." She smiled and looked the pathetic room over. "Do you have a bathroom I can use?"

"Yes, in there."

As the girl walked into the bathroom, Shades turned and smiled and even waved at Debra in the closet. He pulled out some red wine and poured a large amount of some white powder into it, shaking it vigorously. He prepared two glasses.

Annabelle returned. She seemed more than a little disappointed in Shades studio and was trying with great difficulty not to show it. Then she saw the wine. "Oh can I have some of that?"

"Yes, I poured it just for us."

She gulped the first glass down very quickly and Shades poured her some more. He smiled and pretended to sip at his own.

"Got any CDs?" He said yes and walked over to the stereo. No, he didn't have any NIN but he did have the score to Phantom of the Opera. She had never heard that, so he played it for her.

She flopped on the edge of the bed and sipped her wine as she listened to the music. Shades turned up the thermostat, turned off the lights and replaced them with candles. Annabelle dangled a black pump from one foot as she listened and watched him. She was becoming more relaxed. "So... how about one of those poems?"

"Aren't you in too much of a hurry?" He pulled up a rickety chair and began to massage her foot.

There was no reply at first. She drank and listened to the music and enjoyed the massage. Eventually she said, "That does feel good... Ummm... I still want to hear your poem, though!"

"Ok..." Shades smiled. He reached into a drawer and pulled out his familiar black tool chest, some odds and ends, and eventually a notebook.

"I wrote this one for a girl named Annabelle that I once loved. It's very special to me. If you don't like it, don't tell me. It would hurt my feelings too much."

Her expression softened when he said this. The little seduction scenario had made her a little nervous but she fell for this sentimental crap. "Read it to me, please?"

"It was many and many a year ago In a kingdom by the sea"That a maiden there lived, whom you may know By the name of Annabelle Lee"And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me."
"That's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "Can I read it? I've got to be home soon." She took the notebook from his hand and began to read it silently. Shades took the opportunity to pour her some more wine, and to sit down beside her while she read it.

In her hiding place, Debra thought about rocking the chair against the closet door, anything to get the girl's attention. She knew she could make some noises, but would it be enough to let the girl know she was here? The stereo would drown out much of the sound and she would be totally unintelligible.

And Shades would kill her.

She watched silently as the level of the wine in the bottle slowly descended. It was now half past empty. Annabelle girl began to slump and giggle, her voice becoming more singsong. Debra knew the drug had to be X.

"Let me read you the last part," Shades begged her, as he rubbed her neck and unzipped the back of her dress. She seemed totally oblivious to his undressing her. "You'll have to finish your glass while I read."

"I don't know... I'm feeling so fucked up..."

Shades read:

"For the moon never beams without giving me dreams Of the beautiful Annabelle Lee"And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of my beautiful Annabelle Lee."And so, all the nighttide, I lie down by the side Of my darling! My darling, my life and my bride."In her sepulchre, there by the sea, In her tomb, by the sounding sea."

"Ohhh... That is so good... Did you really write that yourself?"

Shades tried to look offended. "Of course, I did! Who do you think wrote it? Dr. Seuss?"

The girl finished her glass and thought about that. "Yeah, that's ridiculous. You are such a marvelous poet. You're intense."

Her dress was loose on her shoulders and her bra was exposed. Shades had unclasped it while they talked and it hung loose. She looked down and saw this as if just noticing it. "Hmmm... My dress is loose. Where's the bathroom again?" She tried to get up and fell on her face.

"Whoa!" Shades said with a practiced grin as he picked her up and placed her on the bed, on her back.

"I am so fucked up..." she mumbled. Then she chuckled.
"I know... so am I. It must be strong wine. He was pulling off her dress with little resistance or encouragement. She was down to just panties and thigh highs.

"You are just too fucking smooth. I can't believe I let you do that."

He was taking off his own clothes. Wearing only his boxers he lay on the bed next to her and kissed and nibbled her neck. "It's only because it's so hot in here."

"Yes... it is", she muttered as she arched her neck. Shades traced a finger down her neck, across each breast, making them tremble, across her tummy, making her suck it in and laugh as if she could become ticklish very easily -- down to the top of her panties. She began to struggle a little bit as he reached inside and slipped one finger inside of her very wet pussy.

"Ummm... I gotta go home... you're making me horny."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Is it because of my finger being where it is?"

She rocked her hips and licked her lips. His other hand tweaked her obviously very hard nipples.

"Yessss..." she whispered. She stopped resisting and reached to help him pull her panties down. She began to rub her thigh highs together. "You can lick me if you want. I just don't want to fuck."

"Why not?"

"I just don't do that. I give blowjobs."

Absorbing that information, Shades took his cock out and pulled her face closer to his cock.

"Yummmmmmm..." she crooned with a wicked smile. Her tongue flicked out and began to tickle it.

"Do you like to lick pussies, too?"

"No, I'm not into kinky stuff."

"Oh... that's too bad because I am."

Her lips were wet and shiny as she mouthed the shaft of his cock, running up and down the side like it was a corn of cob. "I just bet you are!" she snickered.

"Yes. In fact, I even have a love slave."

"Wow... So what does she do? Anything you want?"
"Yes. In fact, I'd just love to bring her in here and introduce you."

"I have to go home", Annabelle muttered, confused, before attacking Shade's cock like a starving animal. She engulfed it and moaned as she began to take it deep into her mouth and throat. Her hips rocked in the air as if she could cum just from doing this.

"You should be taking notes. This is the way it should be done", Shades gasped out loud for Debra's ears.

The girl raised her head to look up at him quizzically. "You don't think I'm doing it right?" She mumbled and went back to sucking him, licking her way down to his balls, which she licked and sucked before working her way back up to the head of his cock.

Shades groaned. "No..." he gasped out. "Other people should take notes from you. You are quite good at this."

The girl murmured her approval around his cock. Shades smiled at Debra in her closet. Shades got up.

"I want to introduce you to a friend of mine."

Annabelle looked up at him. Her face was flushed red, and there were traces of saliva and pre-cum on her face. "What?" She looked for a clock. "What time is it? I have to go home."

Shades opened the closet. Annabelle couldn't see what he was doing in there. She lay on her stomach and began to play with herself while singing to herself about moonbeams and sepulchers by the sea.

Annabelle heard her name called and turned around. Shades was standing in front of her with a beautiful but naked young girl, gagged and bound at the wrists.

"Oh, this is starting to get too freaky. Who are you?" Despite her alarm, she was too fucked up to stop playing with her pussy in the presence of a stranger.

"This is my slave, Debra. Debra wanted to meet you."

"Hi Debra." Annabelle paused when she realized she was still masturbating. She looked up at the ceiling. "I am so fucked up right now..."

Shades pulled Debra to the bed by her chain and pushed her onto it. Annabelle couldn't take her eyes off of the chain leading to her clit. "Cool, I'm into piercings, too. Want to see my belly button ring?"

"We are too. I'm the one who pierced Debra's nipples and clit. Didn't I, Debra?" Debra nodded her head. "Did I do a good job?" Shades lifted his sunglasses and gave Debra a tense look that she could not mistake. She nodded her head very vigorously.

"Would you like to see Debra's nipple rings, Annabelle?" Annabelle's eyes were slightly crossed as she nodded her head. Her fingers were unconsciously marching back towards her pussy. Debra wondered if Annabelle had taken enough to overdose.

Annabelle bit her lip and reached out, touching Annabelle's nipple ring. It was still slightly tender and she tried not to wince. "That is so cool. I'd like to get those someday."

"Would you like me to pierce you, tonight?" Shades asked solicitously.

"I have to go home. Did I tell you I have a boyfriend? I shouldn't be sucking your cock..." Her free hand reached out for Shade's cock in seeming denial of her statement while her free hand discovered her pussy again and was going to town. She was totally oblivious.

Before long, he had Debra on her back on the bed and Annabelle between her thighs, licking and sucking her. "I don't really do this kind of thing", she told them and giggled derangedly. "You guys are kinky." Her head submerged again, licking the bound Debra. Shades watched them while opening his tool chest. When Debra saw the long needle, she tried to control herself. Shades casually put it back and reached for something else shiny. He moved behind Annabelle and began to lick her shiny wet pussy. She groaned with her tongue buried deep within Debra. Annabelle's hips were rocking out of control.

Shades took his cock, which was incredibly hard now, and placed it against Annabelle's pussy. She stopped what she was doing and said, "I don't want to fuck. Lick me instead."

"Oh, Annabelle... you're missing so much fun." he walked over to the CD player and changed the track to "The Music of the Night" from Phantom. He pumped the volume to eardrum splitting intensity.

"Let me suck you then. I want to suck your cock", she mumbled into Debra's pussy. Debra wasn't immune to what Annabelle was doing but she sensed the imminent horror.

Shades went back to behind Annabelle and began rubbing his hard cock up and down the lips of her pussy, making her moan and gyrate. "Say you want it."

"But I don't... lick me."

"You want me to penetrate you." His cockhead rubbed back and forth over her clit. She was starting to cum again, like a firecracker. Shades stopped.

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"I have a boyfriend", she said as she looked back, concerned. "I can't let you do that... I'm a virgin."
Shade's sunglasses nearly fell off. Debra had a hard time not laughing herself. Shades continued to rub her pussy keeping her on the edge. She was starting to get both desperate and pissed off.

"Will it make me bleed?"

"Most definitely..."

"Will you be slow?"

"As slow as I possibly can be. I'm very experienced at this kind of thing."

"Do it then..."

"Ask me."

There was a pause. She licked Debra some more and then, having made up her confused and jumbled mind, she looked back and said, "Please, fuck me?"

"Do you want me to penetrate you?"

It was difficult for Debra to hear anything they said over the volume of the Phantom singing to Christine.

Exasperated, she recited it like it was a stage cue that he needed. "Please, penetrate my virgin pussy."

Shades looked like he was near cumming when he heard that. He raised one hand and Debra's eyes nearly popped out, her heart nearly burst with terror as she saw the sharp and shiny blade in his hand. Annabelle had her face back in Debra's pussy, licking the fascinating ring in her clit. Shades ripped off his eyeglasses. His black eyes shined, and his teeth grinned like a trap, as he shoved the knife deep inside of Annabelle's pussy.

Debra became confused about what was happening. She had seen the knife and knew it was something terrible. It all ran together in one bizarre blur, and she felt like she was the one on drugs. Annabelle was screaming, trying to crawl on top of her body, attempting to flee from the man who had shoved a knife into her. There was the Phantom singing, Annabelle's shrieks, and the hysterical laughter and triumphant cries of Shades as he held Annabelle's hips and thrust again and again with the deadly blade as if it were his penis.

"Is it bleeding, do you think? Is it slow enough? Is it everything you imagined?" he screamed.

The sounds coming from Annabelle as she trembled and clawed at Debra's face were inhuman and ghastly. She sounded like a garbage disposal. Debra felt something very hot and sticky pouring onto her body, splattering everything in the room.
Debra was crying and shaking and trying to roll off of the bed, out from underneath them, no matter what the pain.

It was at this point that Debra realized that Shades was not quite human. It came to her like a cool clear bell amidst all the confusion.

Shades pushed Debra off of the bed, and helped her to her feet. Annabelle lay on the bed, drenching it with the blood from between her legs. She was clenched over, holding her hands over her pussy and gasping for help. Shades removed Debra's hands and sent her to the bathroom to wash up. She ran to the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind her. She pulled the gag out and began to cry, and then almost as if it was perfectly timed, she began to vomit her empty stomach into the toilet. She could hear Shades in the bedroom, talking to Annabelle over the loud noise of the music.

She washed her face in the sink and tried to drink from it. She was very dehydrated. She needed to pee but she suddenly realized...

She wasn't shackled!

She ran to the window and tried to look out. It was old and crusty with dirt. She pushed up on it as hard as she could and managed to squeak it open a few inches. She hopped up and down trying to see out.

There was nothing. There was another brick building across an alley, grimy and filthy. And below, it was empty. Just enough room for one car and some dempsey dumpsters. She listened for sounds from the street but there were none. No winos, no cats...

Nothing.

There was no ledge, no fire escape within reach. Maybe she could break the window and jump. It was four stories to the concrete below. But Shades had a knife and he was killing people!

There was a loud banging at the door, and Shades was yelling for her. "Unlock the goddam door, Debra! I mean it now!"

She felt the desire to shrink. She wanted to become very tiny, like a little mouse, to crawl into a crevice between two tiles, to have no mind at all to hear the conflicting fears and anxieties. She felt on the verge of shutting down and started to slump to the floor, her head in her hands.

The door burst open, the flimsy lock broken. She didn't look up, just cowered and covered her head, sobbing and trying not to think of what he was going to do.

"I thought I told you to open that door! Don't you ever do that again or I will slowly cut you into tiny pieces of sharkbait. DO YOU HEAR ME????"
She couldn't answer, and just started sobbing again. He walked closer. She could see his bloody footprints on the floor. He slowly ran a wet hand through her hair, thinking, and then he just whispered, "Get up... there's work to be done."

He took her hand and helped her up. She couldn't look him in the eye and continued to cry.

"Get up... That's a good girl. Now I expect you to help me with some chores. Come along."

He led her into the bedroom. Annabelle lay face down on the bed, obviously dead, blood pooled and covering the sheets and blankets, dripping down her leg and toe onto the concrete floor. Debra froze again, and started to back into the bathroom but he grabbed her and told her calmly, "You have a choice. Either you can help me or you can die right now, like her. It's a simple choice."

She looked like a zombie as she followed his orders, but that satisfied him. They laid a tarp on the floor next to the bed, and rolled Annabelle's lifeless body onto the tarp. Her face was white as porcelain, and smeared with the tear-stained makeup that had run down her cheeks. She lay limply. Her legs were closed but the red blossom was still visible, telling of the horrible tragedy that had befallen her. Her eyes were closed. Debra mechanically mopped the floor and rolled up the sheets, collecting or cleaning anything that had become bloody, while Shades kneeled over Annabelle, taking whatever kind of gruesome pleasure in her flesh.

At one point as she mopped near Annabelle's head, a drop of pink water splashed on her face, and suddenly Annabelle gasped for air. Debra dropped the mop and backed away. They were both stunned to realize she was still alive.

Shades kissed Annabelle and said "Pardon me dear, I must take care of something. He reached for the quivering Debra. He shackled her to the chair in the closet again, with the door wide open, the gag in place. As Shades returned to Annabelle, Debra watched them, in a state of shock and fear.

Annabelle was breathing fitfully, and Shades was solicitous of her, brushing her curly but now matted blonde hair.

"I... I... need help..." she sputtered. Her eyes were open as wide as possible. She gasped for air through her mouth as if she was gulping it, licking her mouth after each breath.

"Yes dear. You do need help." Shades kissed her on the forehead. "I think you're dying."

"Dying?" If her eyes could have opened wider at that moment, they would have.

Shades stroked her hair some more and whispered in her ear, "Yes, I think so. I'm so sorry."

"Call an ambulance." Gasp. "Call my mom." Gasp. "Please." She wanted to tell him her phone number but he shushed her kissing her on lips that were pale and starting to turn blue.
"That won't help you."

"How did," gasp, "this happen to me?"

"You don't remember?"

She looked up at him as if he was the only person on earth that she could really trust at that moment.

"Do you have any sensation here?" he asked, as he wiggled and pinched one red blood drenched toe.

"No!" she got out. Her eyes closed. Shades kissed her on the forehead and she came to.

"I fear you are still bleeding internally."

She looked too scared to cry at that news.

"My mom..."

"Hush..." He touched her hip. "Do you feel anything here?"

"No!"

He ran his bloody hand to the soft white skin of her belly, spattered with drops of blood. "Do you feel anything here?"

"Yes! Yes!" she muttered. Her hands fluttered at her side.

"That's good. He reached for the now blood encrusted knife and began to cut into the soft flesh below her belly button ring.

"Nooooooo!!!!!!" she cried. Her hands fluttered and she tried to raise her shoulders and neck. He merely pushed her down hard, with the knife still in her flesh, and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.

"Be still now. This will only take as long as I can make it last. And then it will all be over. Very much over. No more pain."

Her mouth repeatedly mouthed the silent word "No", like a fish out of water. As he sliced through the pale white flesh, up to her sternum, the blood began to seep out in a thin red line. He cut across the mid section in a T pattern. Kissing her on the eyes, he whispered "Bye-bye, sweet Annabelle." He pulled the flaps of her abdomen open and the blood gushed onto the tarp. Her mouthing movements stopped, and again she was motionless, staring at the ceiling.

Shade reached deep inside her chest cavity, groping, and he wrenched out the prize that he really sought, her beating heart, the arteries still attached. It throbbed in his hand, still alive, although of no more use to the dead Annabelle, face white and blue. He squeezed on the heart, and the blood poured out of it like a sponge. It crushed down the middle and broke, falling in mushy pieces on the floor.

******

In her room, on the mattress, she dreamt again of an ocean of black, turgid water. She stood on a high cliff and looked down. She was only a barefoot little girl, with seashells in her hands. Below her, beautiful seals swam graceful figure eights in the water, barking occasionally to their friends basking on the warm rocks. They looked happy she thought, and she wished she could go for a swim. Gulls wheeled overhead, their cries mixing with the persistent sound of the sea.

Suddenly, there was a tall fin cutting through the water. Her body tensed and she clasped her seashells tightly. The wiser seals began heading for shore and jumping onto the rocks, but one seal couldn't sense it's danger and continued to frolic. A huge head reared out of the water, it's jaws open wide, and engulfed the poor little terrified seal, snapping it's teeth tightly. Before it sank back into the impenetrable depths, the shark looked up at her, it's teeth seemingly grinning, it's black little eyes sparkling.

******

She finally got to eat the next evening when Shades woke her up. He was very horny. Obviously the previous night's proceedings had energized him. He fucked her joyously and wasn't satisfied until he had made her cum with his mouth. He was in a very generous mood. She tried to forget what had happened yesterday, and his mood made it easy for her to slip into this simple denial, at least enough to be able to function. Functioning meant life.

There were more wonderful surprises in coming nights. About a week later he brought home his next victim, a beautiful young black girl named Molly who trusted him completely. Debra wondered how a man like Shades could attract women who were obviously out of his league and not prostitutes like she was.

Debra didn't participate in the foreplay this time. She merely watched from the closet until it was cleanup time. Again she mopped up the blood and collected the sheets and clothes. Shades carefully wrapped the body for transportation and then locked her in her room, chained again by her clit. When he returned, he unlocked her and took her with him to the bathroom. In the shower, they washed each other clean, and he made passionate love to her. As inhuman as he was, as desperate as her situation was, he was still capable of being a great lover, and despite her fears, she was capable of responding to them, unwilling though it may have been. As the blood and gore washed from their bodies and ran down the drain in red and pink spirals, he lavished her with deep kisses, licking and biting her neck as he fucked her hard, pulling her chain just the right amount to make her cum screaming each time.
He killed girls of various ages and races, but he seemed to prefer them young, sexy, trusting, and preferably desperate in some way. Many of them were troubled but bubbly with life. They made a great contrast with her fearful cynicism, anxiety and depression.

A pattern began to form. The closer it was to the time of the last murder, the more generous and solicitous he was. As the week wore on, his interest in her would become more selfish and practical, using her only for his own orgasm, although he found her increasing responsiveness very interesting. And in the days just before another murder, he would be cruel and act as if he was bored and she was the least uninteresting of many toys. She knew that this was the time of greatest danger for her, and she would be correspondingly careful.

The day after one of the killings, she tried to pump him for information.

"What day is it?"

"It's the first day of the year Zero", he told her.

"I mean, how long have I been here?"

"Haven't you been here all your life? Besides, what do you care? You're not going anywhere."

That was information in itself.

"Are you keeping me here just for the sex?"

He thought about that before answering. They both knew he could shut her up in a second, but he felt amused for now. "No. It's not sex. Perhaps it's loneliness. Or perhaps it's because you need me more than I need you."

She felt a chill when he said these words.

"You were going to jump that night, weren't you Debra darling?"

"Yes, if you hadn't stopped me."

"I didn't stop anything. I told you to go right ahead. In fact, I was waiting for you to do it. I thought it would be amusing." She couldn't see his eyes under the sunglasses but she knew that if she could see them at just that moment they would be like the eyes of an insect. Whatever traces of compassion that she thought she saw in him from time to time were clearly misunderstood. He was distanced from the human race in a profound way. The predator-prey relationship that he had taken with the human race was just part of that.

From the first night, she had thought that he was acting out some dominance submission game with her, and she was just his sex slave to use with as he pleased, a masturbatory sex aid made from human flesh. Two months of heavy prostitution had not made her an expert on the male mind, but she knew that usually their desires ended at the moment of ejaculation.

But Shades was not a "dom". Shades was a work of his own. She remembered his speech of the first night, about the turds floating in the sewer. Clearly, he saw her and the rest of his victims as mere turds that needed to be transformed by simpler forces of nature back into its primal elements. As they all floated in the dark sewers, on their way to the pure waters of the ocean, he stood there to help them, as natural as gravity or erosion. She thought of him as evil, but realized that he didn't see himself that way. Concepts of right and wrong merely amused him. The fact that he broke laws did not bother him. The fact that he faced imprisonment or death if discovered did not deter him. He had discovered his niche in nature, and his niche existed to destroy the helpless, the lost, the weak. But what of the insane pleasure he took in what he was doing? Was there any possible excuse he could make for that?

"Why do you torture them?"

"What?"

She carefully judged the situation before asking him again. "Why torture them if you only want to kill them?"

"Because it lasts so much longer that way. Don't you enjoy a fine meal more if you take your time instead of wolfing it down? Now, drink some more wine, and savor its flavor this time. Don't just chug it. It's an excellent Merlot." Shades loved good wine. It seemed he loved anything that was red and liquid.

After dinner that night, she laid down between his spread legs on the bed and sucked him for what seemed like hours. Afterwards, when he should have been drained and ready to chain her to her mattress, he put her under the covers with him. They fucked like long time lovers. After they came, they both fell asleep in each other's arms. She woke up during the night and was surprised to find herself there, unshackled, and him asleep. She tried to disentangle herself and slip away, but the chain around her clit was very securely wrapped around his hand even in sleep. She went back to sleep, her head on his chest.

******

He killed a beautiful young Vietnamese-American stripper that he brought home. Debra slept through the whole thing in her room and didn't know until he brought her in for cleanup and to help prepare the body for disposal. She was surprised at the new level of violence that had taken place. Her limbs were torn from her body and piled next to her. Her mouth gaped open and her tongue was either cut out or bitten off. A video camera stood on a tripod focused on the scene, still running. Despite the blood and gore that dripped from his entire body, Shades looked very subdued and in control now. He smoked a cigarette while she cleaned. She was becoming good at this, he told her. She managed to hold her stomach without vomiting and did the necessary tasks.
With the body in pieces like this, his disposal problems were complicated. He asked her if he could depend on her to behave if he took her along with him to dispose of the body. She tried to seem casual as she promised to be good, but the idea of being outside for even a second implied so many possibilities for escape that her adrenaline was pumped.

They carried the body together in two packages. Shades carried the torso and loose vital organs in multiple heavy duty garbage bags, along with several weights. Debra carried the arms and legs, tied together and likewise inside of multiple garbage bags. Together they began the long march back to the same bridge where he had first met her, pausing along the way to smoke and catch their breath. She wore the same dress that the stripper had worn -- a very short silver mini with black belt and platform sandals. Her chain was securely wrapped around Shades wrist and she had to maintain a close distance to avoid intense pain caused by falling behind.

It wasn't easy work for Debra, although it was a lighter load for Shades than he was used to. Shades could have used a car but he hated cars and refused to use one. He didn't want to pollute the environment. If the bus had stopped on the bridge, he probably would have used it.

A couple of times on Gaffey they saw a police car cruise by. Debra thought of crying out but was stopped by the sudden tension on her chain. The police car moved by very quickly anyway. Shades looked back at her and smiled. "Remember your promise."

"Yes, Shades."

It became foggy. What if he just slips and drops the chain? Can I run fast enough in these heels? She knew that she would try, no matter what the risk. The fog provided extra cover.

They made it to the bridge and, covered by the early morning fog, Shades weighted down the body parts and tossed them over the side. They couldn't see the water, but they could hear the splashes far below. It was eerie looking into the deep nothingness of the fog. She had been here... how long ago?

"It's been about two months now", Shades told her, as if reading her mind.

"Two months???" She was very surprised. She had lost track of days and weeks and had kept time by counting dead bodies, instead. This was her fifth.

"Yes. You seem surprised by that." He puffed the last of a cigarette and threw it over the bridge. The little red spot of its smoldering ashes vanished in the fog.

"You were going to jump in that night, remember?"

She did remember, but she said nothing. They heard the far off call of a foghorn, echoed by others.
"You know why you didn't?"

She didn't really want to know why, but she asked anyway. "Why?"

"Because you are afraid of pain. It terrifies you. Let's face it. You could have tried to run away at any time during all of this by just pulling away from the chain. Oh yes, it would have hurt you terribly. Mind numbing pain. But you would have been free. Didn't you think about that at all?"

"No." She had never thought of it as a serious option. The memory of her piercing was still extremely fresh in her mind, as well as the pain she suffered every time she tripped on it in her sleep. His occasional tugs were mostly warnings of what could be. The idea of intentionally tearing her own clit apart to escape was something so alien she hadn't even contemplated it. She began to shiver as she thought of how weak she must seem, and how well he had her figured out, how easy it must be for him to control somebody like her knowing her weaknesses better than she did.

"You know, you can still jump if you want. I really won't try to stop you."

He lit another cigarette. She didn't respond to this. He finally turned to her and asked, "Don't you want to?"

What would he do if I say yes? Worse, what would he think if I say no?

"That kind of choice is always up to you. Life is painful, your life in particular. Empty and without hope. Sometimes death isn't such a bad choice. Wouldn't you like to be able to choose something for yourself that nobody else can undo? I've thought about it before, myself. I intend to do it too, someday."

"What were you doing here, that day?" she asked him, changing the subject.

He smiled at her, that smug shark grin. "What do you think I was doing here that day?"

She didn't have to ask more than that. The answer was obvious. How many has he killed and dumped where we stand right now, she wondered to herself. Again he read her mind, as if aloud. "Many... many..."

He wrapped his arm around her as if she was his date, and they began strolling back. He was amorous now that he had done his miserable little deed, and her wearing the dead stripper's dress only excited him more. He was ready to play grab-ass, feeling her up and stopping along the way for lingering kisses. At one point, closer to home, he pulled her onto the covered doorstep of a closed business and made love to her, kissing her, mauling her breasts, making her suck his cock on her knees in the dead stripper's dress. With her panties around her knees and her skirt pulled up, he fucked her from behind until they both came screaming, while the fog covered them from view of passing cars.
As he chained her to the wall above her mattress again for the night, she tested her luck by asking him how long he was going to keep her.

"As long as you live", he said calmly. He left her in the dark.

Why couldn't I jump?

Because you are a coward.

I can't believe it's been two months! When will my period come?

******

There were more killings. She was becoming immune to the sight of the blood but the pain lingered in the room long after they died, and she could feel it through her skin. Life went on and day passed after day.

Shades moods fluctuated between each killing episode. There were good days when they listened to music together, danced. Sometimes he merely had her read while he painted her in watercolors. Sometimes he wanted sex, nasty and degrading, or painful and frightening, or sublime and touching. The scope of his moods and feelings were wide and confusing, and Debra spent much time analyzing and trying to understand him.

At times she wondered if there was more than one person inside of him, not just the evil and frightening predator but something once human and capable of some kind of compassion.

She found herself enjoying the more tender moments with Shade, and felt ashamed. He was creative, could be tender, and knew how to give her pleasure, whether she wanted it or not, playing her body like an instrument. She never knew such sensation before.

He would also use her like a whore, sometimes bringing home victims for lesbian shows that he clearly loved, before he would kill. Any sign of refusal only excited him and encouraged him to make it worse. The compartments in her mind would close up, and she would obey like a robot.

His interest in her usually extended only to the present, but sometimes he would probe her past. She would tense and try to avoid his questions as she had the first night, but as time went on, he became more persistent and frustrated with her avoidance.

One night between killings, she could sense his boredom and frustration. He expressed no interest in her sexually, instead reading newspaper after newspaper, in different languages. She was tied by her chain with a great deal of slack to his bed, and could move about the room freely, but she merely sat and watched him. Without lifting his face from the papers, he suddenly but casually broke the silence with a question.
"Why are you here?"

"Because you keep me prisoner."

He turned another page. There were earthquakes in Bolivia, plague in Zaire.

"Why aren't you with your family?"

She felt her muscles tense and she looked down. "I have no family, Shades."

"Nobody without a family would react the way you do when I mention families."

She shrugged.

"Tell me what they did to you."

She shrugged again. He lifted his gaze and turned to stare at her. "Am I amusing you?" His smile was sharp-edged and glinted like a steel blade, and she knew tonight was not going to be a good night.

"They didn't do anything to me. I ran away."

The paper no longer interested him, having found something else to pique his interest, tonight's entertainment perhaps. He seemed to glide closer to her with each word, until he was in her face. "You've avoided my questions for weeks." His voice lowered to an obscene and familiar whisper. "Tell me about it."

She fumbled for words. "There's nothing to tell."

"There's certainly nothing new to tell, all right. Nothing you could tell me that I've never heard before." His face assumed an expression of feigned and cynical sympathy. "I need to know. I can feel your pain." His hands reached for hers, and despite the many times she had been bound, she felt herself still trying to squirm out of his grasp. It only encouraged him more.

"I... I fucked up..." she said as the tears began to run. He licked one tear off of her face with a reptilian tongue and wrapped himself around her like a boa constrictor. He wanted more from her, and he inexorably squeezed it out as if she was a tube of toothpaste.

******

Debra's mother cried her heart out at the funeral for her husband, Debra's father. She mourned for a solid year, during which they were visited and consoled many times by family.

Mama changed her hair, began to dress differently, and went back to school. She began to date again, and often the three would go out together. Debra missed her father and loved the attention that she got from her surrogate fathers as they tried to earn brownie points, and her mother loved the different kind of attention that they paid herself. Sometimes Debra would wake up in the morning to find Uncle Whatever-his-name-was still there to eat breakfast with them.

Then she brought home Hal. Hal was more than just Uncle Hal. Hal was Mister Right. Ultimately, Hal was Daddy.

"Debra... How would you like having a new daddy?" Mama told her one day.

When Hal proposed to Mama, she accepted, and wedding preparations began with a desperate haste. The fact that he didn't have a job made little difference because Mama was in love, as anybody could see. It was a white wedding, despite the fact that she was obviously widowed and a mother, because that was the way she wanted it and besides, she was paying for the damn thing so she could have it any way she wanted. It was all fine with Hal and he made a handsome and romantic groom.

And Debra liked Hal, although calling him "Daddy" was a habit that she didn't exactly slip into easily. They both insisted on it. Hal was cheerful with a great sense of humor that Debra's mother loved, but he had a dark side that some, including Debra, could sense. He could be very moody, and Debra's mother would walk on eggshells during those times. But everybody was happy at first.

But puberty came, and Debra began to develop rather dramatically. Her breasts began to blossom almost overnight. It amazed both of her parents, neither of them having raised teenagers before. Debra was pleased at going from size A to size B. She would admire her blossoming breasts in the mirror. However, after going from B to C to D she drew an undue amount of attention to herself at school.

She was taller than the other girls, and that combined with her figure was attracting boys. Sometimes it was an embarrassing but complimentary type of attention. Other times it was crude. People could use her breasts to make her feel embarrassed about her own sudden and still confusing sexuality. When she looked in the mirror, she saw the body of a mature woman facing her back with the eyes of a child. But the eyes of others had changed, and it wasn't just the way that the boys at school looked at her.

She could feel a sudden difference in the way Hal treated her when they were alone, and much of it focused on her breasts. When they were alone, he would not just comment on how quickly she was growing, but he would throw comments out about how beautiful her breasts looked, how soft they looked, how she must be fighting off the boys. She didn't know how to take these compliments and blushed without commenting back.

There came the day when he came into Debra's room when her mother wasn't home, and she was in just her bra and sport pants. He only wanted to see her bra, he told her. It looked too small. Maybe she needed a larger size again. Was it time for double D?
She told him she didn't think so, but he insisted on feeling her bra, and adjusting it. There was a sudden and alarming tension in the air between them, as his hands glided over her body. She held her breath and said nothing as he undid the clasp, and removed her bra. She stood before him with her hands clasped across her breasts defensively.

He wanted to examine her breasts, too. "Let me see that they're ok", he told her as he pulled her hands aside. She trembled. His hands cupped her breasts and began to fondle them obsessively. For several minutes, they stood like that, with her silent and embarrassed, and him commenting on how beautiful they were, how proud she should be.

They heard Debra's mother's car pull up outside. Calmly he told her that she would be just fine, and with a smile he left, closing the door on her shivering half naked body.

Why didn't she tell her mother?

It was too embarrassing. She wasn't sure exactly what had happened, nor how to interpret it. But there were more incidents.

The next time Debra's mother wasn't home, he intruded on her again, and again fondled her breasts. He asked her "Don't you like the way this feels?" She said no, she didn't, but he insisted that she did, that he knew she did. He fondled her more quickly, his breath coming faster. He reached out and grabbed her hand, putting it on the front of his pants that were tented out with his hard cock, and told her to feel it. She didn't want to, but she also didn't want to rock the boat. She followed the path of least resistance.

The path of least resistance that day led to her on her knees sucking the cock of the man that she was supposed to call Daddy.

Later, when her mother was home, they played the happy domestic family. Hal greeted Mama, hugged her, kissed her, told her how much they both missed her. They both asked how she had done at school today. In a daze, she tried to act as if nothing had happened, and she almost pulled it off. Denial was so much easier. But when she saw him pulling out the chair for his wife to sit, she remembered those same hands touching her in private places. When he complimented her in front of her mother about her room, she remembered the way he had forced his cock into her mouth, and the urgency of his orgasm.

It was only one time, she told herself. Life would go on. It never really happened. Except... it didn't happen twice. And then it didn't happen three times. She tried to refuse his increasingly kinky demands but he became angry and told her that he knew she wanted it. She was a slut and he would treat her like a slut. She was tits and ass and three delicious holes to fuck, as often as he pleased. Over the course of the next few years, he would do everything humanly and inhumanly possible with her body.

Where she had once been popular at school, she became withdrawn and depressed. Her teachers could sense something was wrong, something that Debra's own mother was blind to. She never told them or other kids what was happening. It was the big, dark secret between her and her "Daddy". After school, and sometimes during school hours after ditching, she would hang out with the druggies, high on whatever she could get, coming home only after she was certain her mother was home.

Usually that was enough to ensure a quiet night, but not always. Brazened by his success, and by Debra's silence, he began coming to her room at night while her mother slept only yards away, within hearing distance if she had only wanted to hear, if Debra had only wanted to cry for help. Silently she tried to give him what he wanted, praying each time that it was the last.

I must deserve this.

I must be a bad person.

God must hate me.

There is no fucking God.

On a Thanksgiving, on a day when people are supposed to think of those things they should be grateful for, while food cooked in the kitchen and the smells of hot food wafted through the air, along with the music of Mozart and Dvorak, Debra felt herself dying inside. She was choking on hypocrisy. All of the happy faces... all the jokes and stories and where is Debra, my how you have grown... she wanted to run from their smiles, from their lies, from their ability to forget what a turd the world really was. They survived in the cesspool, swimming and doing figure eights while she drowned.

She told her mother the truth about Hal the next day. Of course, her mother didn't believe her, as she had known all along that she couldn't. In a way, Debra didn't believe it herself. She had lied so long, collaborated so well. She wasn't just a slut now -- she was a lying little slut, a jealous little slut, a slut who would break up her own mother's marriage because of whatever petty grievance she had with her father.

She ran away from home that night and was returned within hours by the police, only to be slapped not just by her mother, but by Hal.

The house was quiet for the next few days, but it was not calm. Mama and Hal made a big show of solidarity, being very physical in her presence. If she had thought this would change the level of tension, she had been a fool.

She knew that they kept a coffee can full of money in a high shelf. She stole some and took a Greyhound to L.A. where everything would be oh so much better.

How are they now?
Who cares?

It didn't come out in one steady stream. Shades was excited by her anxiety and denial, the many little lies that she tried to tell to cover up what was so obvious. He pulled the truth from her like a dentist pulling teeth, interrogating her over every last detail. He dismembered her without drawing a single drop of blood. She was left wet and sobbing as he led her back to her room.

"You told me once that if I wanted to go home, you would let me."

"You want to go home, now? After what you've told me?" He shook his head, baffled.

If they would take her back, yes! At least she would have a real bed, and a chance to live... a chance. She could even run away again... "Yes!"

"You think I would send you back to people like that? You're much better off here."

"You told me..."

He fondled the chain between her legs. "I lied", he told her as the door closed shut.

I actually believed him all of this time.

She sat in the darkness for some time, thinking dark thoughts. Sometime during the night she vomited.

******

A beautiful and very live redhead lay gagged and bound spread-eagled on Shade's bed, her clothing sliced from her body underneath her. She tried to scream around her gag, but only muffled sounds emerged. The camera was running on its tripod again.

Shades sat on the bed next to the girl, nude, his penis hard and dripping with excitement. He took a tube of lipstick and painted lines from the girl's pubis to her throat and across her abdomen as she writhed and cringed.

He handed the knife to Debra who sat on the bed next to the girl, smoothing her hair. "She's all yours."

"All what?"

He smiled and turned a knife identical to his over to her, handle first, as if it were a diploma.

"You can start wherever you want. I recommend working from the bottom up. Try to take your time, although I know how hard that can be the first time." His eyes almost glowed under his sunglasses at some dark and ancient memory that seemed to warm him.
She grasped the knife, feeling its weight. She felt the blade and nearly cut herself. It was amazingly sharp.

"I can't do this."

He reached for her hands and guided her to the girl's pubis, and pressed the knife deep. There was a muffled shriek by the girl. He told her to pull it slowly upwards towards the abdomen, and she tried, but she could barely do it on her own.

"Go ahead... I'll let you play with her for a while." He lit a cigarette and walked out of the room, leaving her locked and chained to the bed, the knife imbedded in the girl's abdomen just below her belly button.

Debra sat stunned. The girl pleaded with her eyes. Debra removed the gag.

"Please..." she whispered, her body wracked with sobs. "Please, let me go. Call the police. He'll kill us."

"I know he will."

"My name is Barbara Delorean. I have money. Really I do. Lots of money. Just get to a phone..."

Debra's eyes ran up the chain to the lock that held her secure. The girl's eyes followed her.

"What can I do?" Debra was confused. "He's going to make me kill you." The girl moaned and began to sob some more. "I don't want to."

"Use the fucking knife! Stab his fucking ass when he comes back! You can untie me and then I can unlock you. I have money..."

Debra started to utter "But I can't...", when they heard the sound of Shades returning. She slipped the gag into Barbara's mouth. Shades found her in the same position with the knife still in her hand, still in the same spot in the girl's abdomen. He looked disappointed at Debra as he joined them on the bed once more.

"It's not very nice to not finish what you start."

"But you started it..."

"We both started it. If pain frightens you so much, there are faster ways of doing things."

He withdrew her hand, knife still grasped tightly, and had her put the blade up against his own throat. "One quick slice, right here, and it's all over in seconds. The blood supply to the brain is shut off and your victim will feel nothing else. You can then take your time without worrying about what pain it might cause."

The blood from the knife left a visible red line on his throat, like the one on the girl's throat.

"Feel the artery, the way it pulses right there? That's the one. There's no stopping the flow, once it's cut, no bandaid on earth that could save you, even if you were in a hospital. You can't live without the oxygen from the carotid arteries."

Barbara's eyes were frantic and furious as they looked at Debra, and then at the knife she held against Shades' throat.

"You know, she would do it to me if she could. She has a lot of fight in her. She values her life far too highly. You and I don't value ours nearly as much."

He moved the knife down to the midpoint of his rib cage, inches above his navel. "One thrust here, and you can tear open the superior vena cava, the large vein that returns blood from the brain. Instant loss of blood pressure to the brain. It's like a light going off." He released her hand to snap his fingers and emphasize the point. Debra's hand trembled and she tried to find courage to do what must. Barbara's eyes blinked at Debra, frantic. Debra didn't realize that Shades was teasing her.

"Just pull down, and you can rip the right atrium of the heart open. You can't function without a heart. Pull down, and you tear down into the inferior vena cava, the largest vein in the whole body. Slash across", and he pulled her hand swiftly to the left, "and you will slice open the abdominal aorta, the main artery that carries blood to all your vital organs. There would be literally gallons of blood." His teeth shined. "You could practically swim in it."

He pushed her knife wielding hand away, his expression changed, visibly exasperated. "You could have done what this little bitch wanted, Debra. You could have been free again, free for the pathetic miserable existence you have facing you out there that you're too weak to face." The tears began to flow down Debra's cheeks. He leaned close to her. "I am cruel, but I am not without compassion. You could be the one laying here instead of her. All you have to do is ask."

With that he picked up his own knife and pressed the knife back into the bleeding incision made earlier, and began to slowly slice upwards, not deeply enough to tear open any of the important arteries and veins that he had indicated. Barbara could only scream with her eyes as she was dissected alive. The blood ran down the sides of her soft white belly and onto the bed.

Shades removed the gag. Barbara began pleading with him, telling him how much money she had, how she would never tell. He chuckled. "You'll never tell anyway."

"Wouldn't you rather that it were fast? I can make this last for hours, and I really am in the mood to do it. I could fuck you in places that you never dreamt possible. There's nothing that makes me want to cum hard more than feeling a live throbbing heart pulsing around my cock."
Barbara tried to shake her head. Her face was becoming pale, her eyes black. Debra was praying she would just pass out, shut up, die like the others.

Barbara still couldn't plead for death. "Stop him..." she pleaded with Debra.

Debra felt the knife in her hand like an impossibly heavy weight. "I can't... I'm sorry..." she mumbled.

Barbara pleaded. "If you can't do it for yourself", she choked out, "then do it for somebody else."

Shades thrust deep inside of her, making Barbara scream. Her lids rolled back, exposing the whites of her eyes. Her whole body trembled.

"Isn't it like an orgasm?" asked Shades as he probed.

"You sick fuck... you sick fuck... both of you!"

Debra turned and barfed on the floor.

"I thought you had developed a stronger stomach by now, Debra."

She barfed again, and wiped her mouth. "I think I'm pregnant."

Shades nearly dropped his knife. "What... wonderful news!" Barbara gurgled. Debra cried.

"Isn't this just the cycle of life in miniature?" he said with a grand gesture. He actually seemed pleased. He dug the knife back into Barbara and made her scream again.

"End it for her, Debra. Put the knife to her throat." Debra tried to do as he asked, putting the knife against the artery that he had outlined in red. "I can make this last for hours and hours, and I will unless you kill her."

Barbara looked up at Debra, her dying eyes full of a white fury. "Go ahead, you useless bitch. He'll kill you and your baby just like me!"

"End it for her, Debra. She's begging you. Aren't you, Barbara?" He dug it in again and she screamed. The blood flowed over his hands.

"Yes!"

"Be merciful, Debra", shades told her, solemnly.

She sobbed as she tried to press the blade in, but her hand was too weak. She felt like she was going to faint. Shades growled and grabbed her hand, slicing across Barbara's arteries. The blood sprayed like a geyser in Debra's eyes and face, making her flinch. Barbara's eyes rolled back, the only sound the gurgling of her breath, until it finally stilled.

Shades took the knife from Debra's trembling hands. She buried her face in her lap, sobbing.

"I'm disappointed, Debra. I had so much I was hoping I could teach you. Oh well, not everybody has the same tastes. I won't try to make you do that again. Unless you want to try..." He looked at her face hopefully. She only sobbed. "No, I guess not."

He continued the butchery for a while, but gave up, disgusted. "It's just not as fun once they're already dead."

After the cleanup, when he chained her in her room, he told her. "Congratulations about the baby." Exhausted both physically and emotionally, she tried to sleep.

She looked at me so betrayed.

How can I possibly bring a baby into this hopeless world, this bloodbath?

I am such an incredible coward.

******

Months passed. More people died. Debra was beginning to show, her abdomen distended.

She lay on her back, with shades listening to her tummy.

"I can hear the little heartbeat. It's a girl."

"How can you be sure?"

The illusion of domestic tranquility at times like this was stunning. She was used to this kind of mendacious role playing at home, and had done it for years, but had never done it to this extreme. She would try to shut out of her mind the knowledge of the bloodshed, and focus only on the moment, but a little voice in the back of her mind tried to remind her how she was lying to herself. She was losing her mind.

"I just am. We'll name her Carmen."

Carmen.

"Suck my cock." The illusion was destroyed.

Between licks and swallows, she tried to keep the illusion alive. "Why Carmen?"
"Carmine is the color of blood." With the word blood, his cock visibly hardened, and she could taste his precum.

"She'll be everything you couldn't be."

She was pregnant with the baby of a killer, a participant in mass murder, a passive slave and sexual toy, alternately defiled and cherished. Even pregnant with his child, a child he obviously wanted to keep, he continued to use her body not like a mother to be, but like a sex toy. She thought of the abuse of her father, but it seemed so mild now in comparison. The world truly was made up of predators and prey, and she knew which was which. Some predators were just far more skilled.

"What do you mean?"

"Keep sucking." He sighed and began pumping up into her mouth. She thought to herself that she should try to make him cum quickly, that this night had been nice so far but it might not end as nicely and it was best to be done with it.

"She'll love the hunt like I do. I'll teach her how to kill, just as my father taught me."

Suddenly, in her mind's eye, she saw a chilling vision. Generations upon generations of Shades', going back she knew not how far, killers all, self-appointed cleansers of the human race. She stopped her sucking.

"Why would you do this to an innocent baby?"

He was mad that she had stopped but he answered her anyway, his erect cock waving in her face.

"You think I'm not innocent? You're the one who isn't innocent. You still see the world in terms of good and evil. I'm not evil. I'm just natural. Now suck me!"

He pulled on her hair and thrust her head on his cock. She started to snort, choking, but he relaxed and let her do it herself.

"You're the one who would corrupt her, but I won't let you. As soon as she is weaned, you die."

Her heart leaped, but she kept on sucking. This is the first time he ever mentioned a specific date, she thought to herself. Months ago, she would have been numb at the news, but the new factor of the baby complicated things. It gave him a way to torture her long after her death.

He could sense the discomfort it gave her. "I'll enjoy teaching her how to suck my cock right."

She gasped and stopped, looking him in the eye. "She's your own daughter!" she screamed.
He laughed, clearly more aroused by this game than by her sucking. He threw her on her tummy, holding her by her chain, as he put his cock deep into her ass. He was brutal as he fucked her, clearly angry.

"Oh yes. And she'll call me Daddy too, when I fuck her. But she'll love being fucked. She has her mother's genes, but she won't have her lies."

He was brutal, and Debra began to cry. He pulled her hair as he fucked her ass and whispered in her ear. "I'll show you how good it can be when I kill you. It will take hours. I can make it more sensuous than you ever imagined. You're still very special to me."

He came inside of her and withdrew, exhausted and pleased with himself. Debra lay still, barely able to move at first, then rolled over, putting herself together. Shades lay next to her on his side, hugging her now, suddenly tender again.

"I feel something. I think I just felt a kick..."

Shades was immediately on his knees, his head on her tummy, listening intently.

If you can't do it for yourself, do it for someone else, Barbara had said. She had failed Barbara.

The chain that led from her pussy trailed up between her breasts, and it was easy for her to slip it over his head, and pull the two ends tight. He actually seemed surprised, the panic in his face a wonderful change. He grabbed at her arms, but she was strong this time and she was leveraged against the headboard. The chain dug into his throat and made it bleed. It took a long time to kill him this way. Her arms started to become tired, but she held on until all resistance stopped.

She made sure that he was thoroughly dead before she left his body.

She found the key and unlocked herself. She washed herself in the shower for almost an hour, crying for what she hoped would be the last that she would see of death.

Rummaging through his closet, she found the box he had shown her the first night. She couldn't believe what was inside. It was full of hundreds of thousands of dollars and dozens of credit cards and driver's licenses in the names of different women. And then there were the tapes, hundreds of videotapes, sorted alphabetically. Could I have saved any of them, she wondered to herself?

Before she left, she checked the body. He really was dead, and becoming cold. In the time that she had spent in the shower, his eyes had had time to cloud over. There was nothing supernatural about Shades. He was just another selfish destroyer of human life.

She changed clothes, tucking her chain into her panties, planning even now to remove it as soon as she could. She took all of the money, and her clothes, and left everything else as it was, including his body.

A few months later, on an island in the Caribbean, she gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby. Shades had been right: it was a girl.

Debra named her Hope.

THE END