Posted by Sawney Beane on July 07, 2006 at 14:47:32:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #36
GOING ALL THE WAY
by Sawney Beane
24 November 1994
21 July, 12 August, 3 September 1995
3-6 June 1996
8,927 words
DISTRIBUTION NOTICE and DISCLAIMER: Sawney Beane requests that any distribution of this work of fiction remain within the realm of social responsibility. This story is suitable neither for minors nor for the seeming majority of adults who have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It is pure fantasy, which means that, for whatever reason, someone has found it interesting to think about the events depicted herein. It does not in any way mean that the author would like to see this fantasy become reality, so if you are the type of person who might be swayed into doing something irrational by reading a work of fiction, the author respectfully requests that you decline to read further.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sawney Beane, originally a native of Edinburgh, lived for twenty-five years in a cave on the coast of County Galloway, subsisting on the flesh of unfortunate travellers, roughly a thousand of them all told. He and his wife raised a large family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters. Eventually, the family was captured, and the whole lot was brutally and unjustifiably tortured and executed without trial. Since his death in the early 17th century, Beane has reformed his ways and now confines his atrocities to his literary endeavours.
WARNING: This story contains scenes of extreme consensual torture, snuff, & gynophagia. It's sort of too much for Sawney himself, so if you find such things offensive, (as you probably should) please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's a little bit frightening to know that I can imagine such horrible things as this, even if I don't make a general habit of it. Although it is consensual, this story is quite brutal and contains more pain and torture than all of my other works combined, and that's enough to make it just a little bit difficult for me to read myself. That said, I have no doubts that there are some people out there who will believe that this is my best story ever, but it is just not to my taste. Incidentally, at some point in this narrative, the heroine finds herself in a predicament depicted in the Dolcett drawing called DOLCET22, but that's not integral to the story.
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Dear Diary, 4:00 pm June 16: Final Entry
When I think about what I might be doing at this time tomorrow, a cold shiver crawls slowly up my back. It starts at the base of my spine and ends up a minute or so later in my neck. That might be the most unpleasant thing about this whole affair.
Diary, you've been my best friend for the last seven years. I've told you everything since I ran away from home when I was seventeen. But there is one thing that I have not told you. I have known this for four months, but I wanted to surprise you. I have hinted at it before, but I know you'll never guess. Here it is: my master and I have decided to go all the way tomorrow. Do you think that's a bad idea? I'm not sure, but it does feel good, in a strange way, to have decided to go for it.
It was my idea to some extent. On one of the rare occasions when my master asked me my opinion, four months ago, he asked how satisfied I was with my torments. I told him that they were formidable but that they always ended just when they were getting to be really good. He sighed and said that he couldn't do any more without violating the contract that we had agreed upon when I gave up prostitution and became his slave a year ago.
You know all about that contract, of course, but I want to talk about it a bit, so bear with me. It's the last chance we'll have to talk, and I want to make sure you understand everything. You know how unhappy I was after five odd years of prostitution. Then, before he was my master, Mark (he'd beat me if he heard me calling him anything other than master!) gave me big bonuses to endure sex and beatings. Strangely enough, although all interest in sex had long since left me, the beatings really turned me on. He came twice a week and could tell how I felt about it despite my efforts to conceal my emotions. Several months later, he handed me a document as he left one particularly violent session. He didn't say anything about it, but it was all filled out with my name (the one I used anyway) in all the blanks marked "slave" and his in all the blanks marked "master". He had even signed it at the bottom. All that was missing was my signature.
The first time I read it, I laughed out loud. It said things like: "I, the aforementioned, slave do hereby cede to the aforementioned master all of my rights to liberty and the pursuit of pleasure. I agree to submit willingly to any degree of pain, physical or mental, that the master chooses to impose upon me. I will obey any command of my master without hesitation and will accept any punishment imposed by my master for any violation on my part or at his whim." But there were limits to this: "The aforementioned master agrees that he will not act or order the aforementioned slave to act in any way that will deprive the aforementioned slave of her life or permanent use of any part of her body. This prohibits the murder and dismemberment of the slave but should not be construed to limit the master's rights to create marks upon the body of his slave including but not limited to tattoos, brands, scars, abrasions, welts, and/or piercings." So, basically, he was requesting me to give him my obedience and my body for his sexual and sadistic whim in exchange for an assurance that I would not be killed and nothing would be cut off of me. I tossed it into a corner of my tiny apartment and dreamed about it. Not pleasant.
But that was not the end of it. To my surprise, the idea really grew on me. After all, to be honest with myself, I had to admit that his tortures were the only good thing in my life. Anyway, the contract allowed for the termination of the contract by either party with one month's notice. So, and I know this sounds crazy, nearly a month after he gave it to me, I signed the contract and gave it back to him the next time he showed up. He said nothing but immediately produced a dog collar from his pocket and fastened it around my neck about one notch too tightly to be comfortable. After allowing me to pack a small suitcase of my most prized belongings, he attached a leash and led me to his car and loaded me into the trunk.
I've written in great detail over the last year about my frequent tortures and constant abuse. And about how much my crazy mind likes this treatment. I've been beaten nearly to death several times in different ways, but my master has strictly obeyed the contract. He doesn't have to. We live in his house way out in the woods where no one can hear my screams, and you and I and he are the only ones on earth that know or care that I am still alive. He could do anything he wanted to me, and I'd have no defence.
But when he said that four months ago about the contract, I said quietly and without thinking, "Perhaps that is negotiable." I think that's the only time I've really seen him smile. And it was an evil smile.
I think my master really is evil. The way he treats me is abominable. He never says anything kind to me, and no good person could beat me as he does. He tortures me as no human with a shred of goodness could do, and I love it. I don't know much about him. I don't know if he's ever killed anyone before. It is quite possible. I don't have any idea when or how his previous slaves left him. In fact, I don't know if he has a job or what it might be (armed robbery no doubt). I don't know his last name, and he comes close to knocking my teeth out if I call him anything other than Master. We're not lovers by any means, although we do have sex often. Of course, he's never gentle, and when he's impotent he takes me out to the garage and slams my hands in the car door. I don't love him, but I don't hate him either. He's everything in my life, since my only purpose is to serve him, but I have no particular attachment to him as an individual. What I do know is that he would be horrible to anyone who did not enjoy abuse as I do. I pity the woman who comes across him in a singles' bar!
Anyway, the day after I commented about negotiating my contract, he made me an offer over breakfast. He offered a 24 hour torture session that would end in the death of the slave. He said the pain would be incredible and satisfying in a way that sessions limited by the rigors of the contract were not. My brain tingled, and I told him I would think about it.
I know, of course, that I am entirely crazy. I am mentally ill and need therapy. For one thing, my brain is so miswired that pain feels both painful and at the same time erotic. The more painful, the more erotic and the greater the tension between the two emotions. This is good, so the more pain I have inflicted upon me, the more my crazy mind likes it. The second thing is that I cannot bear responsibility of any kind. I'm a fairly intelligent person and was making reasonable grades in school before the pressure caused me to dump everything I knew and run away. But even prostitution has its requirements. I don't want to have to think about anything. That's one of the things that the slave situation did for me. It removed all responsibility from my shoulders. I never have to think of anything but the present. I know it's hard for anyone to imagine feeling as I do, but these two things dominate my mind. And the prospect of a slow painful death appeals to both of them. There's pain and a lack of responsibility. I need not look to the future because there is not much of it for me and nothing that I need to do in it. I should see a psychiatrist, but what would the point be? Would I be happier being tortured to death or waiting to be cured in a mental hospital?
So, of course, I accepted the proposition after several days of deliberation and fantastic dreams. We set out in the next few weeks the exact terms of the event and its date. I choose June 17, which you know is my 24th birthday. Did you remember?
Here's what we've done so far. Yesterday evening, my master gave me my last meal. It was nothing special, and I haven't consumed anything but water since. Naturally, I was not excused from last night's torture session. I didn't enjoy it as much as usual; my mind was on higher things.
I woke up early this morning sore from my beatings and waited some time before my master came to untie me. My stomach growled loudly as I served him breakfast, but he did not allow me to taste anything. I gradually recovered from the previous night's torments and began to feel good. There was a peculiar lightness in my belly that I couldn't quite understand, but it was a good feeling nonetheless.
Around 11 am, my master took me to my bedroom and announced that he would now give me my last intercourse. I was pretty indifferent to this, but he was running the show. His sex was far from gentle, but it lacked the harshness of previous encounters. We got done fairly quickly and turned to other matters.
The next order of business was disposing of my belongings. This was by far the most traumatic part of my entire life in this household. Master Mark started a fire in the fireplace and unceremoniously burned everything I own. He started with my clothing, what little of it there was. When everything was gone, he burned my pictures of my parents, my little brother, myself as a child, and my old roommate Wendy. I felt the tears gathering in my eyes throughout all of this. I had to beg him to spare you, my dear diary. He did so only reluctantly. Everything else went up in flames, and he left me to cry for an hour or two. But I recovered soon enough. After all, how can I value my belongings so highly when I value my own life so little? What use will they be to me in a day's time? But I'm glad he spared my diary, even though he'll probably incinerate you when I've gone. I wish there was something I could do to prevent that.
My master returned around 2 pm and ordered me into the shower. I went unhesitatingly both because I fear punishment for disobedience and because I enjoy the shower. Today it was better than ever. He'd ordered me to make myself perfectly clean in every respect. So I spent more than an hour with the cool torrents of water bathing my tired body. I rinsed and scrubbed like I'd never done before. I shaved my legs very carefully. Then I cleaned and adjusted the nipple rings my master had installed soon after the beginning of my servitude. I took my time with all of these things since I was enjoying the shower so much. I felt so very free while I was in the shower. There was nothing in the world to trouble me then. It was a glorious feeling.
When I stepped out of the bathroom in my sandals, the master examined me minutely and nodded his approval before padlocking my collar around my neck and sending me to my room to wait.
It's nearly time. My master will come for me at 5:00 pm. Then I will have one last chance to back out, but I'm going to go through with it. Once I accept, he will take me to unimaginable realms of agony for twenty-four hours. He promised that I would expire between 4:00 and 6:00 tomorrow evening. So I can start counting down the hours I have left now.
Soon I will leave you forever, my dear diary. You have been a good friend and my favourite companion. For that I thank you. I am nervous but comfortable with my decision. So now I will lay down my pen and quietly enjoy the last few painless moments of my existence. Good-bye, dear diary.
5:00 pm June 16
Kelly Graham stared at the door in anticipation. A light breeze sent a chill across her nude body as she rested on the soft sheets of her bed. Such ease was not going to last long. Her trembling hands betrayed her nervousness, but inside she was happy. She felt light and free from worries. There was only one choice left to be made, and she had already decided what she would choose.
Finally, it came. The knock on the door was firm and commanding. Kelly shivered at the sound of her voluntary doom. The moment of truth was upon her.
"Please enter," she said barely loud enough to be heard behind the door.
The big man entered. He was muscular and bulky, a truly terrifying sight. Kelly's master carried a sheet of paper and a leash. "Stand, slave!" he ordered as he entered.
Kelly sprang to her feet and cowered beneath his piercing gaze. "How may I please you, Master?" she asked almost reflexively.
"It is time for you to make your choice, slave," he said almost in a growl. "Will you go through with the requirements of the contract we have prepared?"
"I will, master," Kelly said without raising her eyes.
The master's smile was great toothy evil. "Sign!" he ordered, offering her a pen and the legally meaningless piece of paper.
Kelly silently took the pen and contract and signed her life away. She felt better when it was done. The master offered her the leash, and she obediently locked the end of it around the ring on her collar. Thus was her fate sealed. The master led her out of the room with a jerk that almost brought her to her knees. It was begun.
5:15 pm June 16
Kelly's master led her roughly down the stairs to his basement torture chamber. He jerked her neck several times, so it took all her concentration to keep from tumbling down the wooden steps to the hard concrete floor. But she made it safely to the bottom. She shivered at the thought of what came next.
Her master left her standing in the centre of the room, and Kelly obediently stretched her arms in front of her with the wrists close together. A pair of steel handcuffs snapped tightly around her wrists, and the handcuffs were clipped to the chain that looped over a pulley above Kelly's head.
Kelly watched emotionlessly as her hands rose in front of her face and then over her head until she had to stand on her toes to reach the floor. Her Master, on the other side of the room, gave the chain a few final pulls and looped it around a hook on the wall beside him. Kelly's feet were swaying a foot off the ground, and the handcuffs were digging painfully into her wrists. Normally her Master placed padding between her handcuffs and her skin, but perhaps he was less concerned now about the long-term effects of impaired circulation.
This was the moment Kelly liked least about the first phase of her treatments. Her master was behind her, out of her range of sight. It could come at any moment. Kelly's body tensed in anticipation. Just when she thought he'd gone away and left her, Kelly heard the sharp crack of the whip and felt a comparatively light stinging in her lower back. He was standing far away from her so that the tip of the whip barely reached her body. Nonetheless, the point of contact grew red and produced a small welt.
Another contact, much harder, caught her full across the buttocks. Kelly yelped in pain. Three more lashes struck her in quick succession across the back of her knee, across her shoulder blades, and in the small of her back. Before she had recovered from these assaults, the tip of the whip swept between her legs and smacked her full across her sensitive genitals. Kelly could not restrain a howl. She heard derisive laughter behind her.
Her master called to her, "How do you expect to withstand real torture if these taps make you howl like that!"
Kelly knew enough not to reply. The whip struck her waist and curled around her. As it fell away from her, it set her spinning slowly around to face her master. All the fortitude Kelly could muster could not prepare her for the dreaded next contact. As she had feared, the whip smacked her across both exposed breasts. The pain made her scream, but this was cut off as the whip raised a welt across her open mouth. She felt the red welt begin to rise on her cheeks and began to taste the faint flavour of blood.
Three more cracks of the whip raised welts across her thighs, belly, and shoulders. A few minutes later, she was doing better. Each time the whip struck her vulnerable body, the pain increased, but as time went on, the amount of this increase grew less and less. Still, the whip continued to fly at her for the next hour with only short pauses when the master needed to rest his arm. The welts faded into one another, and Kelly was covered by an intricate grid of red blemishes.
6:30 pm June 16
After a few minutes of relaxation spent examining his slave's abused body, Kelly's master unlooped the chain from the wall and let it go. Kelly fell to the ground in a sprawl of unsupportive legs. The master grabbed her by her handcuffs and jerked her to her feet. She stood silently with eyes submissively directed at the floor. The master smiled in satisfaction.
She was dragged by her wrists to the far corner of the basement torture chamber and made to lie on her back on a large bit of peg board supported by several cinder blocks. Her handcuffs were removed and her wrists were chained far apart to the wall behind her head. The chains were pulled tight so the muscles of her arms and chest were strained painfully. Finally, her legs were chained to the ceiling and spread as far apart as they possibly could go.
This was one of her master's favourite positions; she was quite exposed. But the best was yet to come, and Kelly grimaced in anticipation. Her master removed the cinder blocks one by one, and the peg board dropped to the floor. Kelly felt the nails in her back from her shoulders to her buttocks. Each hole in the peg board had been hanging above a five inch nail, and its removal had left Kelly on a bed of nails. This in itself was excruciatingly painful, but it also added to the pain induced by whatever her master chose to do with her in this position.
She wasn't sure what he would do next; he'd done many things to her while she was like this. He started with some old favourites. Since he still had the whip handy, Kelly's master took a few steps back and launched it at her belly. The pain of the lash was multiplied by the pain of nails digging into Kelly's sore back. Another stroke landed on her belly before her breasts got their share. Then her thighs, front and back, were treated to the whip's sting. The master, however, soon tired of this and dropped the whip in a corner.
Kelly's feet were dangling just below her master's face level when he stood next to her. He tickled her left sole slightly, and the squirms thus produced drove the nails painfully into the skin of her back. But tickling was a bit too tame for her master's liking, so he obtained a ruler and rapped her sharply across the sole of one foot. This was repeated several times, each more painful than the last. Then the other foot got a turn, and, finally, Kelly's master struck her flat across the genitals with the ruler, producing a sharp yelp of pain. Once more for good measure, and then her master traded in the ruler for a yardstick with which he produced a nice series of welts on her calves and thighs.
Then, to Kelly's surprise and horror, her master pulled out a pocket lighter and ignited her pubic hair. When he'd gleefully watched her burning bush reach its agonizing conclusion, her master used the lighter to burn away the remaining stray hairs. The scream this elicited was music to his ears, and he remembered why he so rarely used gags. He touched the flame to her heels a bit just to make her wiggle.
Time to take a break.
8:00 pm June 16
The master finished his beer and walked across the room to his waiting slave. Kelly was trying, despite the nails still pressing into her flesh, to recover from the pain of her abuse and pyro-depiliation. She had little success, but the pain was exquisite. But now her master was approaching with a strange looking thing.
He carried a large funnel, the end of which bent at a 90° angle and tapered to an inch in diameter. His intentions were unmistakable, and Kelly soon found herself penetrated deeply within her scorched vagina. It was not quite uncomfortable, but it was close. But she'd had lots of things in her before.
Kelly's master showed her a large glass jar, and its contents made Kelly shiver. He poured the jar into the funnel, and covered the funnel's top to prevent escapes. Kelly soon felt the invasion of hundreds of ants, several dozen bees and wasps, assorted beetles, a few grasshoppers, some very large mosquitoes, and a brace of cockroaches. The creeping things reached the end of the funnel and found themselves in a warm wet hole. They scurried in confusion, and the bees and wasps stung the poor girl's interior. Her master watched her contend with this for an hour or so. After a while, Kelly could no longer feel the bugs crawling and sensed that she was full of insect corpses.
9:15 pm June 16
Kelly felt exhausted, but her master gleefully removed the funnel and inserted the end of a garden hose into her vagina. He let the cold water run in slowly until she felt full to bursting and then let it stream out onto the floor carrying the dead insects along with it. He repeated this several times until no further bugs emerged from her genitals. Kelly was panting and relaxing as best she could, steeling herself for her next torment.
9:45 pm June 16
Kelly's master smiled the grin that she knew meant trouble. He re-inserted the funnel in her vagina and took a small bag from his pocket. Then he began to crush something Kelly couldn't see above the mouth of the funnel. It took a few moments, but eventually Kelly began to feel an intense burning inside her. As her master continued to fill her, the inner fire grew more and more painful. Sweat streamed from her brow, and tears from her eyes. Soon her master sneered, "What's wrong, slave, don't you like habeneros?"
The master watched the slave deal with the crushed hot peppers assaulting her sensitive membranes, and the smile on his face grew more and more sinister. He removed the funnel, but this did not relieve the pain of the fire within her. She writhed and kicked, but nothing could free her from the pain. The nails in her back infuriatingly punished her for trying to alleviate the agony. The master left the room for a few minutes as Kelly continued to struggle with her inner torment.
10:45 pm June 16
Kelly's master returned to her torture chamber. He had shed his clothing, and his big, hairy body was exposed. He carried a glass of red wine and seemed indifferent to her pain. He slowly untied Kelly's arms and legs, and she flopped herself off of the bed of nails to lie writhing at his feet. She clawed and scratched some of the pepper fragments from her genitals, but the burning did not subside. She knew deep down that the only release from this anguish would be the distraction of greater pains.
Her master dragged her to her feet by the hair and ordered her to stand still in the centre of the room. He proceeded to dexterously tie her torso in tight ropes. The ropes encircled her sizable breasts, dug into her waist, and encumbered her collared neck. A tight crotch rope dug into her abused genitals while holding the remaining peppers in her as well. He tied a cloth gag around her panting mouth and clipped clothespins onto her nipples. She was led to her pole, which leaned back at a slight angle. Then she was ordered to straddle the short cross-bar that was affixed to the pole about three feet off the ground. Kelly leaned back onto the pole, and her master tied her arms around the post above her head. Worst of all, he forced her legs back until he could shove another cross-bar, perpendicular to the first, behind the pole and in front of her knees. He legs were tied to this cross-bar. All of this resulted in her back being arched painfully, and her body being both pained and exposed. Wisps of her long black hair stuck to her moist forehead as she awaited the next step in terror.
11:45 pm June 16
Kelly's master had set up a charcoal grill behind her trembling back and was busily heating his collection of brands in the coals. A moment later, Kelly lurched in pain as the white-hot metal touched the back of her left calf. Several minutes later, a similar agony afflicted her right calf. Soon, the master strolled into Kelly's view holding the hot brand in one hand and his glass of wine in the other. He nonchalantly touched the hot brand to Kelly's underarm, and her eyes squeezed shut in anguish muted only by the tight gag. The second underarm received a similar treatment, and the scorched flesh grew into a painful welt. Kelly's master inspected his work and concluded that he'd done enough in that vein. Kelly's breathing was heavy and irregular. She couldn't decide what part of her hurt the most.
12:30 am June 17
The blindfold covered Kelly's tearful eyes, and the world around her faded to sounds and feelings. She felt her master removing the clothespins from her bruised nipples and felt them replaced by the clips that latched around her nipple rings. She was used to this, but the next part still hurt her every time. She knew, although she could not see, that the clips were attached to chains which hung over pulleys on a special rack ten feet in front of her. Her master pulled the lever, and the twenty-pound weights attached to the other ends of Kelly's nipple chains dangled free. Kelly first heard the terrifying rattle of the strong thin chains and then felt the horrible stretching feeling that made her believe her breasts would be torn from her chest. But the flesh held, and she was left with pain unending.
This was her occasional sleeping arrangement. Her master left her this way about three nights a week. Apparently, she would spend her last night this way as well. The master strode from the room sometime later, saying "Goodnight, slave, sleep well." She heard his footfalls on the steps, the click of the light switch, and the slamming of the basement door above. She was left alone in the dark with her thoughts and her continuing anguish.
Her master was certainly giving her a thorough treatment. Much of it had been done before, although some things had been done just a bit more painfully tonight than on previous nights. Kelly ached all over, but no permanent damage had been done yet, so her contract was still being upheld. She knew this would not be so when morning came.
She wondered as she stared into her blindfold whether or not she regretted her decision. This was certainly the torment she craved, but the cost was great. Nonetheless, something deep within her stifled any regrets she could have formed. This was it, her final blaze of agonizing glory. Her terror, pain, and excitement were the best thing she could ever hope for.
It took a long time for her to fall asleep, and she fully expected to stay awake all night. But she finally drifted off without noticing.
6:00 am June 17
A loud clanking noise awoke Kelly the next morning. It was usually the way she woke up when she was bound to her pole. It just meant that her master had unclipped one of her nipple weights and let it smash to the floor. Her left breast sent intense pain through her body, but that was not unusual either. The nipple weights hurt most when they were first applied and when they were removed. In between, Kelly seemed to get used to them. The pain usually was sharp and horrible for a few moments and then receded to a dull ache. This wasn't happening today. The pain remained intense, and the feeling of something warm and moist dripping onto her belly warned Kelly to fear the worst.
Kelly's master yanked off her blindfold unceremoniously, and her eyes blinked painfully in the bright light. When she regained her vision, she could see the rack in front of her with one chain extending toward her and another hanging limp. The end of the limp chain was adorned with a clip, which was still attached to Kelly's nipple ring. A small pink circle of flesh was attached to the ring. Kelly looked down and gasped at the sight of her left breast, the nipple neatly removed by an incision along the edge of the aureole. A trickle of blood streamed forth from her violated mammary, and the pain increased immeasurably at the sight. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she cowered at the realization of what was really in store for her in the next few hours.
The grinning master was walking toward Kelly's detached nipple, making sure to yank painfully on the intact chain on the way. He unclipped the nipple ring from the chain and placed it in a small dish on a long folding table that had been set up to Kelly's right. Then he walked slowly back to her helpless body and, taking the chain in one hand and a small scalpel in the other, removed her remaining nipple in the space of five seconds. Kelly looked on in speechless horror and grimaced as the other weight clanked to the ground. The pain again shot through her upper body. The small pink circle of flesh was placed on the dish next to its predecessor. Kelly's mind swam.
6:30 am June 17
"Good morning, slave!" Kelly's master spoke to her for the first time as he unfastened her gag.
"Good morning, master," she replied in a shaky voice.
"Great way to start the day, eh?"
Kelly bowed her head in silent deference. Her stomach churned and her spine ached, while her two wounds dripped blood.
"It's about time for you to make me breakfast."
"Yes, master," Kelly replied with averted eyes. She waited for him to untie her for her to perform her usual domestic servant duties, but he made no move to release her.
Instead, he stared at her thoughtfully for several minutes and then went to set something up behind her. Sometime later, Kelly could smell the pleasant aroma of the charcoal fire and could see the smoke wafting its way around her toward the stairs.
Then Kelly's master untied her, and she slumped to the floor, unable to support herself. He ordered her to her feet pitilessly, and she struggled to a standing position with great difficulty and swayed back and forth weakly. Every muscle ached, her nippleless breasts hurt, the fierce whip and nail marks from the previous days stung, and a faint remainder of the fire in her genitals persisted in making her vagina a swollen lump of irritated flesh. It was about to get worse, and she didn't like the look of the hibachi.
"Ready to make my breakfast, slave?"
"Yes, master, what will you have?"
The master pretended to ponder the issue carefully and then replied. "I believe I will have your breasts...medium well."
Kelly's body trembled, and her mind recoiled. "But...."
Kelly's master slapped her harshly across the face. "You will obey, slave!" His face took on an altogether more sinister tinge as he picked something small up off the table. "Oh, yes, there is one thing I forgot to tell you. Do you remember what the penalty for disobeying, hesitating, questioning, or pleading is?"
"Forty lashes, master," she replied, steeling herself for the imminent slash of the whip.
"Right, but that's changed today, slave." He slipped the hole in the middle of the small rectangular metallic thing over her left pinkie finger. "From now on, the cost of disobedience, hesitation, questions, or pleas is one finger." He pressed the ends of the metal thing, and the blade cut into Kelly's flesh. Before she fully grasped what was happening, her master was holding her detached pinkie up to the light and admiring it. She stared in disbelief as the pain assaulted her arm.
The master placed the detached digit on the table next to the dish of nipples and returned to his stunned slave. "Now, slave, where were we? Oh, yes, you were about to cook my breakfast." The evil smile broadened across his demonic face.
Kelly stepped slowly over to the hibachi and knelt next to it, but before she could bring herself to go through with the next step, her body rebelled. She trembled in terror, and looked up at her master's unyielding face. "I...I can't...." Before Kelly knew what had happened, her right pinkie had been detached, and the master tossed it onto the table.
"Get cooking!" he growled very near her ear.
She abandoned herself to it and cast her body down upon the smouldering hibachi. Smoke filled her nostrils, and her two large breasts bore the brunt of the flames. Pain tore through her chest, and soon a new smell reached her nose. It resembled that of roasting meat. She wondered how much of this would kill her and began to hope that it wouldn't take much. Her master's promise of a late afternoon expiration seemed hopelessly far away. How would she ever survive so long?
The master let Kelly roast for a while, but he was careful not to let her go too long. Before the flames had been able to cook beyond her breasts, he yanked her off the grill by her hair and sliced off her singed breasts with two deft stroke of a large knife. The severed mammaries were tossed back onto the fire, and he carefully sewed up the chest of his slave, leaving two neat horizontal rows of stitches. Kelly slumped on the floor and passed out.
9:00 am June 17
Kelly blinked her eyes open, and the pain assaulted her at once. Still, she felt a bit better than she had a bit earlier. Her aching body was quick to notice its lack of breasts and the stitches replacing them. Her master was sitting at the table enjoying his breakfast. He'd roasted the breasts to perfection before polishing off the first one and beginning to carve up the remaining one. Kelly stared in disbelief.
"You...you're eating my breasts!" Kelly moaned weakly at him.
"Ah, yes, slave, and I must say they are very delicious breasts at that."
"You're a...a cannibal?"
"I'd call myself more of a connoisseur of fine female flesh, but yes I am."
"You didn't tell me you were going to eat parts of me."
"You didn't ask, and I'm actually going to eat almost all of you sooner or later."
Kelly felt a sudden sickness deep within her. "That's awful."
"Is it worse than torturing you to death, slave?" her master asked with a disdainful snort. "How else do you expect me to dispose of the body? You're so selfish, slave, wanting me to do all this for you but not caring what I'm left with when you're gone! Didn't you ever think of that?"
"No," Kelly replied miserably and rolled over onto her back to stare at the ceiling.
The master savoured the last bite in his mouth and approached Kelly who was trying her best to relax with closed eyes. His metal clipper flashed and her attention was drawn to the loss of her left ring finger. "Wha?" she yelped in shock at the sudden amputation.
"You were questioning me," he replied matter-of-factly, "I'm being merciful; be glad I didn't penalize you a finger for each question."
9:30 am June 17
Kelly's master dragged her to her feet and ordered her to dance. She did her best to be sexy, even though every gyration sent tremors of pain up her spine. Meanwhile, her master fiddled with some equipment nearby, casting an occasional threatening glance over his shoulder at the weary victim of his abuse.
A while later, Kelly's master ordered her to lay down on the bed of nails once again. She was bound in the usual way, and the supports removed, leaving her supported by the sharp metal tips, which dug into the already violated skin of her back. She waited in horrified anticipation for what was next. The master blindfolded the unfortunate girl again, intensifying her suspense.
After a few anxious moments, Kelly felt the clips digging into her swollen genitals. They were alligator clips with sharp teeth that were the last thing Kelly's pepper-irritated vagina needed. One clip was affixed to each of her labia, and a few minutes later, she felt her genitals start to tickle. It was irritating at first, but it became more intense, a tingling sensation as if a limb had fallen asleep. Kelly had never known her genitals to fall asleep. It got worse. As her master cranked up the current, the tingling became a sharp pain, then almost a burning sensation. She began to buck and twist, opening bloody nail punctures in her buttocks and shoulders. He let her feel the electricity for ten minutes before switching it off. When it was over, her labia were scorched and steaming slightly.
Kelly reclined on the bed of nails waiting for her next level of abuse.
10:30 am June 17
Kelly's master undid her blindfold and untied her. She rolled off the bed of nails onto the floor, and her master positioned her on her back on a large thick slab of wood. He grabbed her left arm and unhesitatingly drove a nail through the palm of her hand, affixing it securely to the corner of the slab. Her other hand and both feet were similarly nailed down, but she could barely move to resist. Her eyes remained shut tightly as if glued closed, and a gurgling moan passed her clenched teeth.
When Kelly had thus been affixed spread-eagled on the slab of wood, her master brought out several long metal needles and a candle. He flamed each needle in the candle before shoving it into her unresisting skin. The first two pierced her loins, just above the hip bone. A second pair found their way into her armpits, while another pair were shoved under her kneecaps. Two more pierced her thighs, and the final pair were slid into her buttocks. She was a mass of pain when it was done.
Then her master donned insulated gloves and took the leads of his current generator, one in each hand. He touched the leads to the several needles and nails as well as the alligator clips still affixed to Kelly's swollen labia. He picked two nodes, seemingly at random, and touched the leads simultaneously. He left them in contact long enough to get a yelp and an attempt at movement out of his slave, then he moved on to another combination. He knew what he was doing, however, and was careful not to let the current pass through her heart. He gave her maximum pain with the minimum of danger. This amused him thoroughly, and Kelly had to endure quite a lot of this before he switched off the generator, gave her a short rest, and pulled the nails out of her hands and feet. He left the needles in place. Kelly's mind swirled in lingering agony as she waited and gasped.
12:00 pm June 17
"Well, my slave, you've done very well," said Kelly's master with a snarl of approval.
She did not open her eyes to respond but mumbled the obligatory "Thank you, master."
"But, slave, it is getting to be lunch time, and I need to have something to eat. I'll let you suggest an entree. You can suggest anything, so long as it is a part of you."
This blew Kelly's tormented mind, and she hesitated as long as she could get away with without forfeiting a finger. Finally, she raised her bloody, three-digited left hand, saying, "Hand?"
The master gratuitously snipped off her middle finger for the suggestion. "Well, slave, I can see why you would suggest that, but it would be much too easy for you that way. I'll soon run out of fingers to take if I eat your hand for lunch! No, I think I'll have myself a nice juicy cunt steak."
Kelly did not respond to this dire prediction and barely squirmed as her master knelt down between her legs with a scalpel. The incision hurt her, of course, but the ambient pain in the area made this new development less agonizing than she would otherwise have expected. The master sliced out a generous portion of meat, encompassing her external genitalia and much of her fleshy pubic mound in the long narrow swath of tissue. He placed the extracted piece next to her face for her to see and mourn, while he set to work lacing up her violated groin with a series of closely-spaced stitches. Looking down, Kelly could only see a neat seam where her womanhood had once been.
Her master scurried off to pop the morsel in the oven, while Kelly tried to regain something worth holding on to. To her surprise, the loss of her genitals actually reduced the net pain she was experiencing. The burnt, swollen, irritated vagina and labia had been a source of pain for some time, and the severed nerve endings for which she had traded her marred sex organs were, by comparison, a relief.
1:30 pm June 17
He ate it right in front of her. Popping the last bite into his mouth, he announced, "Ah, I love spicy food! Habenero cunt is the best dish I ever cooked." He chewed noisily and resumed his attention to Kelly.
"Well, slave, it's been easy so far. Now we get down to business. He pulled all of the needles out of her body with a rough force that made them more painful coming out than going in. Then, without warning, a hammer flashed, and Kelly's left kneecap was shattered. She recoiled in intense pain and heard her master say. "Great, you do the other one, slave!"
She took the hammer in her right hand and was forced to sit up. But she couldn't do it. Maybe it was the difficulty of operating with only four digits or maybe it was the bleeding stigmata. In any case, she hesitated too long, and it cost her the index finger of her left hand. She brought the hammer down on her knee, but it was a faint-hearted blow that merely bruised the surface. The master roared in disapproval and lopped off her left thumb. She screamed and swung at the same time, leaving her knee in a painful wreck of shattered bone and somewhat bloody flesh. She flopped down on her back and let out a howl of anguish.
"Beautiful, just beautiful, slave!"
2:00 pm June 17
"Just a few more things before the grand finale, slave," said Kelly's master as he tied tight tourniquets around each of her upper thighs. She was beginning to look forward to the end, and couldn't even respond to him anymore.
"We've just got to get rid of those feet of yours." He pulled out a hacksaw and, holding her left ankle in one hand, proceeded to calmly saw off her foot. Her mind went wild, and the grating of metal against bone jarred her all the way up her spine. Moments later, he was holding the bloody but shapely foot up for her inspection. Her eyes fogged as he placed it on the table with many of her other parts.
Then he said something that made her go cold. "I think I'll have you help with this one too."
He placed the saw in her hand, bent her leg causing horrible pain in her broken knee, and held the foot and ankle for her to saw. She touched the blade to her skin and pulled feebly. The teeth barely broke the skin, and it took several cycles to get to the bone. Her entire body was wracked with pain, but she mindlessly pushed the saw back and forth. She exerted little pressure, so it took a very long time to sever the ankle bone, but in the end it was done. Her right foot joined her severed left foot, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The only thing between her and death now was the tourniquets around her thighs, and she desperately wanted to untie them at once.
3:00 pm June 17
"One more thing and then I'll let you go, slave."
"Yes, master."
"You see, I think the skin of your legs would make a wonderful material for making clothing. You know, moccasins, gloves, underwear, and such? So let's get you out of it."
Kelly watched passively, almost unaware of what was happening to her lower extremities. Her master's scalpel made matching bloody rings around her thighs, just below the tourniquets. Then it slid down the outside of each leg from thigh to severed ankle. Kelly clenched her eyes closed as her master peeled the once flawless skin off of her legs. When she opened them, he was tacking the two large pieces of skin to the wall, stretching them out as much as possible. He said he would attend to the curing of the leather once he'd dealt with the rest of her. An even more distressing sight was the skinless muscles and fat of her exposed legs. She gasped and choked on her tears.
4:00 pm June 17
"Well, slave, are you ready for the end a worthless slut like you deserves?"
Kelly blinked her eyes in lieu of a nod.
The master smiled ruthlessly and picked Kelly up in his powerful arms. "Oh, wait, I forgot something." He flopped Kelly's tattered body down on the table.
Through bleary eyes, she could distinctly see her own feet and several fingers arrayed near her face. She recoiled in disgust but barely felt the scalpel drawing a perfect circle around her perfect navel. Kelly's master proudly showed her the detached belly button and said, "You won't be needing that anymore, and I'd hate for such a nice feature to get scorched." Kelly felt even sicker.
Her lack of enthusiasm angered her master, but he had tired of snipping fingers. Instead, he found a large pair of pliers and yanked out one of her front teeth. Kelly's blood-filled mouth curled in pain and horror. She helplessly awaited the next step.
"Well, slave, now we're ready. You're really going to be impressed by this one." He gathered her trembling body in his arms and ascended the steps to the main level of the house and proceeded out the door to the back yard.
Kelly glimpsed the site of her impending death, and her trembling intensified. In the center of the yard, Kelly's master had prepared a long narrow pit, inside of which a small fire was crackling away. Stacks of spare firewood were in abundance, and a pair of Y-shaped brackets at the ends of the fire pit stared Kelly ominously in the face.
"Well, there it is!" Kelly's master exclaimed.
"Hurry, please, master," was all Kelly could mumble.
Her master dropped her on a board on the ground near the pit. Then he showed her the long steel spit on which she was destined to spend her last few minutes of life. Kelly shivered as the cold steel was placed on top of her. Her master brought out lots of rope and tied her bloody ankles, knees, thighs, waist, chest, and neck to the pole. Her flayed legs wrapped around the pole, and the cold metal passed along the stitched seam where her genitals once had been. Her mind spun, and she had trouble thinking about what was happening. The pain in every inch of her body screamed at her for attention.
"Four fingers left, eh? You were a good slave," said Kelly's master as he secured her wrists to the spit far above her head. "I'll enjoy watching you die."
With incredible strength, Kelly's master lifted the spit with her attached and tossed it roughly onto the Y-shaped brackets. She felt nothing for quite a while. The fire was quite small, having been neglected for some time. Her master soon put that to right and had a raging fire flaming away under Kelly's helpless body.
She felt remarkably little pain as the tongues of fire licked her buttocks, legs, and back. Perhaps she had reached the threshold beyond which additional agony is meaningless. The worst thing was the overwhelming aroma of hickory smoke and roasting meat.
With what little mind Kelly had left, she mused on the consequences of her last decision. Was it worth it? The pain was fabulous to a point, but perhaps she'd gone too far. Death didn't bother her at all, but perhaps it would have been preferable to jump off a bridge or hang herself in the woods. On the other hand, although it had been very rough for a while in the last few hours, in her final minutes, she was regaining somewhat that sense of thrill and excitement that the torture sessions had given her. The fire was washing away all of her previous injuries, making a severed ankle or crushed kneecap irrelevant. But would he really eat her whole body? That was unusually disconcerting to her.
Kelly's master had been rotating her spit slowly by means of a handle affixed to one end. She didn't last very long over the fire. Her previous wounds had taken much of her strength away, and the fire was rapidly drying the last few drops of life left in Kelly's once-shapely body. Her eyes stared, barely seeing, and a broad smile began to form on her lips.
When he knew she was near death, Kelly's master pulled a leather-bound book from his pocket, displaying it in front of Kelly. Her eyes snapped to one last bit of attention, and she moaned almost inaudibly, "Please, no...."
Her master tossed the book into the fire beneath her head with a sneer. This was the worst torture Kelly had experienced all day. Her beloved diary incinerated before her eyes, fuelling the fire that roasted her body, thus an accomplice in her demise. She closed her eyes and surrendered everything that she had ever been to the void. She died unhappily.
5:23 pm June 17
Mark looked at his work and smiled and evil smile. His third victim had been the best. The diary thing had been an especially cruel touch; he knew how much she valued that silly book. Well, the original was safe and sound in the house. He'd bought a near duplicate, her eyes not being in good enough shape to require precise identity, and thrown it on her death fire. He knew how that would assure that she left this world miserably, and he loved every moment.
My how she was beginning to smell delicious! Mark's mouth watered as he watched Kelly's corpse rotating above the flames. He'd outdone himself this time; poor Kelly had not known how difficult he was going to make it for her. Still, she'd performed well; remarkable slut.
That old diary would make excellent reading, perhaps over dinner.