Glorious Escapism Roleplay

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

For Toutaku and LenLen.
WARNING: Contains non-con, graphic torture, nasty things involving piercings and probably eventual death among other triggers. Don't read if you're easily grossed out. In fact, don't read unless you're a severe gore fetishist.

[The coldness of the room hit Florence as soon as she awoke. She groaned weakly, an attempt to scold whatever shithead had forgotten to turn the heating on before they crashed last night. As her tawny eyes flickered open, however, she realized that she wasn't in her house. She didn't even appear to be in any house at all.

"F-Fuckers. . ." The young woman growled in a half-asleep stupor as she scanned the room at eye level, trying to seek out the tosspots who she called her "friends". They must've been hiding somewhere. There were no windows in the room, and her weary vision couldn't make out much outside of a several foot radius around her, which seemed to be illuminated by some form of overhead light. Her head pounding from last night's follies, Florence decided to raise her hand and rub her tired eyes.
She found this impossible.

It was then that she realized she was bound. The cold leather straps which clasped her wrists and ankles tightly were secured with buckles, and restrained her worryingly-bare form to some form of. . . Chair? Table? She wasn't quite sure. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Florence spoke out again, trying to conceal the nerves in her voice. "This isn't funny. Seriously guys, where the fuck did you even take me? This place smells shit. Like a hospital or something."

Still no response. Her inhalation audible now, Florence thought back to the last night. She couldn't even remember much, despite the fact she'd only had a couple of Frisco Sours. She'd remembered meeting a couple of cute guys. One said he wanted to be a doctor, "rid the world of misery" or some bullshit like that. Then there was another one, a guy who was interested in history. He could have talked for hours about the wars no one cared about. They were both pretty lame, in hindsight. But most importantly, Florence remembered putting her drink down.
Roofies.

"Hello?" Florence muttered again through the dryness in her throat, praying for at least some form of human interaction, for someone to let her go and tell her it was all a prank. But if it was a prank, why was she in her pants?
It must have been one hell of a night.]

Toutaku · Posted: Fri Feb 24, 2012 2:12 am Post subject:

[Lester saw the fresh meat stir, and heard her curses. She was conscious. That was good, because he had long grown tired of waiting.

He stood behind her, arms folded, and waited until a little bit of fear crawled into her voice. Smiling as he heard her begin to worry, he crept up behind her and violently yanked the table she was strapped to up to a forty-five degree angle. Her scream was soon cut off as he reached around and viciously forced the ball gag into her mouth. His aim right now was not to break her, but to terrify her. The pleasure of denying her pleas and letting her know begging was futile was certainly a delicious prospect, but that was for later.

Gagged as she was, Lester decided to make his presence more apparent. Walking slowly to the front of the elevated table, he let her eyes drink in the sight of his six foot frame, clad in thick white cotton and black rubber. Looking slowly and pointedly to his right, encouraging the whore to follow his gaze, he placed a confident hand on the blue fabric covering the tools of his trade. Pulling it back, he enjoyed the recoil. It was understandable, though. Lester never bothered to clean his tools, he enjoyed the expression of disgust on his plaything's faces far too much.

Running his fingers over the handles of implements, he settled for a reassuringly heavy bone hammer and a chisel that had once been gleaming and stainless. As it stood now, however, it was a dirty brown and still had claret clinging to the edge.

Walking up swiftly to the now-struggling victim, he harshly kicked the table back to a horizontal position, enjoying the crack of her head against the stiff metal frame. pacing around her, his glare into her eyes never shifting, he raised the corrupted edge of the chisel to her forehead, and gently dragged the cold metal down her face. As it reached her lips, he ignored her gag, and dipped it into her mouth, making sure she got a taste of the old blood and gore.

From the luscious lips pulled tight into a grimace, down the slender neck, now taught with tension, he dragged the metal down the valley of her breasts, circled her navel and paused over her crotch. Poking the mound of flesh experimentally, he basked in her muffled sounds of discomfort. Letting the edge caress her inner thigh, he began to trace slow, steady circles around her kneecap. By now she must be aware that his tool was a great deal less than sharp.

Letting the gravity of what he was clearly about to do sink into his new toy, Lester watched the leg spasm in a vain and futile attempt to escape the inevitable. The circles of his ministrations grew smaller and smaller, until it was standing at the centre of her kneecap, poised and ready. Looking her straight in the eye once more, he smirked. He felt no remorse or guilt for his actions. This was all fun for him, and he was confident the promiscuous whore currently bound to the table would grow to like it, too.

Raising his hammer with a deep breath permeated with a small chuckle, Lester brought it down in a graceful, precise arc. He felt the skin tear, and his chisel hitting bone. Splintering bone. Breaking bone and violating the delicate joint brutally as a torrent of scarlet burst forth in a beautiful geyser, if a little small. As the cold steel sank inch by inch into cartilage and tendon, Lester jerked himself backwards and admired his handiwork.

Turning slowly away, he made as if to put the hammer down, but instead brought it viciously back, hitting the chisel hard in the side. The viscous crunch that only the shattering of bone can produce made his trousers feel tight and sped his pounding heart to a higher level. But now was not the time for gratification.

He'd always believed that good things came to those who wait, and if he went too far in one short burst, his plaything would be likely to die of shock. And that was what no-one wanted.

The sickening wet crack of a compound fracture called to him, and he stared at her delicate little hands with a wanton passion. The hammer began to shake under the intensity of his grip, and Lester was forced to wrench his hungry glare away, lest he have too much fun and forget why he wanted to do this in the first place.

He was confident she'd break and tell him she adored the way he violated her, and made her body into an irreversibly damaged toy. She would tell him she wanted to be broken and used like a second hand piece of furniture.

They all did in the end. Some took more coercion than others, granted, but in the end they were all the fucking same.

Every last one of them.]
_________________

"Victims, aren't we all?"

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

[The sudden movement which yanked her backwards made a scream rip out from Florence's throat, a scream which was soon muffled. The round, firm item that had been forcibly thrusted past her roseate lips tasted less than savoury, and as she felt some straps being fastened around her head, Florence realised it was a ball gag. She felt the lump rise in her throat again.

A figure moved into sight, barely visible between the dim lighting in the room and her own faintness. The young girl took note of her captor wearily, the thick, off-white cotton that covered his tall form and his all-too-familiar smile. She wondered where she could have remembered someone like him from, apart from possibly a few nightmares. She watched him cautiously, too fearful to struggle against her restraints as he grasped a blue, cloth-bound mass - previously unnoticed by Florence's less-than-adequate vision - with his long fingers. The new prey noticed a faint sliver of a smile on her captor's face as the cloth was removed, and hell was revealed.

Surgical instruments. An array of ones - some common in medical dramas, and others far more threatening shapes, unnatural and frightening instruments. The one thing they all had in common, however, was the array of filth covering them. Layers and layers of colours, ranging from dull browns to brighter tones, ones that would hardly have been recognisable as originating from a human form. The mere thought of how long these had been unwashed for was enough to make the young woman retch, much to her kidnapper's delight.

Florence's bare flesh quivered as she watched a skilful hand glide over the dilapidating tools, resting upon one in particular. A cold steel hammer, weighty and a slight gleam to its offal-caked form. Her vision pulsing from fear once more, she forced out a few weak whimpers of protest, muffled by the object violating her lithe mouth. He didn't like that.

The way her head slammed against the now-horizontal table made the captured woman's head swim with darkness again, the only thing stopping her from passing out again was the fear of what may happen if she did so - that, and the feeling of a cold, filthy steel chisel being dragged across her forehead. The panic flaring up inside her, Florence struggled against her restraints frantically, forcing back another silenced gag as the foul instrument trailed directly down past her nostrils and straight past the ball gag.

The taste of the cold, unsterilised metal was unpleasant, but was nothing compared to the taste of weeks-old offal when it hit her tongue. Her attempts to stop herself from just giving in and vomiting were now desperate, and she continued gagging long after a slender finger had reaffixed her ball gag with a worrying gentleness. Florence watched her tormentor with a wide, fearful gaze, her eyes not too disimilair in colour to the oldest filth which caked the hammer. She could feel the tears welling up
in the corners of them, obscuring her vision further as the cold steel continued a path down her body, her flesh now pallor from fright.

The young woman let out a small, horrified gasp against her gag as she felt the chisel linger around her crotch, rubbing against her clit as it snagged on the sickeningly bright pink lace which provided a trim for her otherwise scant panties. Much to her relief, after a few curious prods the chisel continued a path down her thigh, staining the paler pink cotton covering her cunt with a mixture of ancient gore and her own fresher saliva.

Florence was sickened, but the worst was far from over. And she began to figure that out as she noticed the far-too-blunt chisel honing in on a certain place - her kneecap. The drowsiness which plagued her in waves was banished once more, and she began to yelp and struggle again, her desperation higher than ever. The sick, toothy smile on the tall man's face provided a cofirmation for what was to happen next, despite Florence's wordless protests. She squeezed her tear-obscured eyes shut, and that was when she heard the swish of the hammer as it cut the air.

Pain. It hurt badly enough to force the bile up Florence's throat once more, to rip another anguished, wordless scream from her obstructed lips. Her face was stained with tears, and she opened her eyes once more to examine the damage. She soon regretted that. A small fountain of bright scarlet shot forth from the pit created by the weapon, a mass of deep red accentuated by delicate white fragments of what the poor woman could only assume used to be her kneecap. He wasn't done, however, and as the chisel greedily buried itself further into her flesh a second time, the world faded grey entirely, but only for a second or two. It was more of a dull ache now, and Florence thought it probably should have hurt a lot more than it did as she studied the way her captor's hands trembled - almost more than her own - from the sheer force he was thrusting the freezing still into her flesh with. She couldn't manage to meet his gaze, which was sparkling with enchantment and glee, for more than a few seconds before she started sobbing uncontrollably again.

This wasn't a prank. She was going to fucking die in here.]

Toutaku · Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 3:17 am Post subject:

[The glee from his actions was exquisite, but Lester was not yet satisfied by any means. This whore would have to pay for being so craven and easy. It was disgusting.

Ignoring the painfully large bulge in his trousers, Lester shifted the table back upwards, so the plaything in front of him was once again at eye level. He smiled again, making sure to maintain eye contact. This was the key to breaking in his fresh toys, to force them to acknowledge him as someone who could end their petty existence in a heartbeat.

Admiring the spread of her legs, he gently ran his fingers over the waistband of her panties. Revelling in the squirms and mewls of discomfort, his free hand raised to remove the gag. He wanted to hear her this time.

Once the rubber ball was free, Lester's hand became braver, and began to caress her vagina with a sinister gentleness through her underwear. The smile broadened slightly as she voiced her complaints, switching between furious anger and desperate begging.

'Oh if only she knew what was to come.' He thought. 'She'd be quiet then, and save her strength.'

After a particularly passionate plea, Lester looked her in the eye again and reluctantly withdrew his hand. His other hand had been absent-mindedly stroking himself, but this also stopped. He stepped back and bowed his head as if ashamed.

As he heard the slut express blessed relief in the form of a sigh and a muttered 'Oh thank God', the sickening smile returned. Raising his head to beam at her devilishly, Lester drew his foot back and drove his steel toe-capped boot directly into her filthy cunt like a juggernaut. Her screams and cries only urging him to hurt her further, he repeated the action with greater force, relishing the crunches, the raw screams and the sobbing in between. Again, again and again he violated her brutalised pussy with vicious kicks. Counting the kicks as he went, Lester made sure to only consider stopping his righteous punishment when the number elevated to over twenty five.

Stopping at last at an even thirty with his pet crying most beautifully, he admired the thin trickles of blood and the swollen purple flesh around her filthy cunt. Browns, blacks and whites tarnished her skin as the bruises rose. Sated at last, Lester caught his breath as the whore in front of him continued her tortured wailing.

Deciding she needed to be gagged again, but not without further punishment, he grabbed a pair of pliers from his workbench. First bringing his tightly clenched hand across her face in a brutal punch to shut her up, he grabbed her hair and forced her head back. Keeping his mouth open with strong digits, he clamped the trusty pliers down on a large molar. Pulling hard, there was a sickeningly enticing shlick as the root gave up its hold and the tooth was pulled free. Another, fresher scream made his hands vibrate as he removed yet another tooth. Getting bored with the tedious approach, he held the pliers and struck her across the face harshly, dislodging another two. Considering his work done, he crammed the ball gag back into her bleeding mouth and took another step back.

The smile was wider than this slut had ever seen it, and before he walked back to his chair for a short rest, Lester once again slammed his heavy boot into her tortured vagina. Leaving her there to moan and cry past the hardened rubber, he let her to her own devices and took his seat out of her line of sight.

'This was the other key,' He triumphantly thought. 'Her mind will conjure things far more gruesome than I can do while she waits for the next step.'

Lester's erection was throbbing, begging for a kind of release.

It would have to wait, Lester wanted to enjoy this for as long as he could.]
_________________

"Victims, aren't we all?"

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

[Florence ceased her terrified whimpers as the ball gag fell loose from her quivering lips, her attacker's greenish gaze sending a jolt of fear down her spine. She met his gaze reluctantly, almost definite that she recognized that sickly smile from somewhere. Her protesting whimpers continued, however, when she felt a sylphlike hand snake up her thigh. The young woman tried to close her legs, tensing the muscles beneath her supple flesh - to no avail, she realized, as she felt the ropey strength of her assailant's digits begin to probe the delicate folds of her cunt through her panties.

"Stop." Florence managed a weak mutter, despite how dry the fear made her throat. She noticed the gleam of his perverse smile widening, and continued struggling despite the way the straps binding her were beginning to slice into her wrists and ankles.
"Stop." She repeated with more force, shooting him the closest thing to a glare that her tearful eyes would allow. She felt her aggressor's rather skilled fingers exert more force into the soft rubbing motion he'd been maintaining, and - consequentially - she became aware of the way her frail, already-stained pink cotton panties became increasingly damp.
"P-Please..." Her voice became weaker once more as she forced back a sob, her watery hazel gaze fixing on her grinning attacker once more. The pressure building between her legs caused a furious blush to spread across Florence's already flushed, tear-stained face, and she felt her toes curl a little as a particularly pushy finger press down against her clit. She couldn't stand this. It was disgusting. And she was disgusting for even slightly enjoying it.

"N-N-No!" Florence yelped loudly, feeling the heat blossoming in the pit of her stomach becoming almost uncontrollable. She writhed and struggled with a newfound embarrassment, the restraints beginning to draw a couple of beads of blood from her wrists. And, much to her relief - and secretly somewhat her dismay - he stopped. She glanced down at the ruined red pit previously called her knee in an attempt to disgust herself and hopefully lessen the torturous throbbing in her loins, just in time to catch a glance of the tall figure in front of her removing his hand from his crotch.
"Freak." She choked quietly, and soon regretted it.

As soon as the first harsh, brutal kick impacted against Florence's already painfully sensitive cunt, she let out a helpless screech. She could feel the thin, useless cotton covering her swollen pussy tearing each time her captor drove his foot straight between her legs, over and over again. She barely had the chance to let out a few pained sobs, her breath being forced out of her every time he viciously drove his boot into her groin. The final kick was punctuated by the disgusting feeling of skin tearing and leaking warm blood as he ground his foot against her most delicate flesh.

Bleary-eyed once more, from the tears and the sheer agony, Florence followed the toothy smile and delighted gaze once more, down to her brutalized cunt. The flesh inside and around what was left of her panties was bruising quickly, changing from an array of deep, angry mauves to duller browns, even some spots of white in there. Tattered pink cotton hung to her trembling form, stained with thin trails of blood which dripped along her thighs. Looking back up between agonized sobs - although lifting her head again was no easy task - Florence was greeted by a flash of something moving promptly through the air, and another harsh bout of pain erupting in her cheek, nearly knocking her unconscious entirely once more.

Before she even had the chance to wail, a sinister hand prised her jaw open, and Florence managed a quick glance at something metal and malicious just before it clamped down upon one of her molars, the sickening snap as the root of the tooth dislodged itself from her jaw making the vomit rise in Florence's throat again. The pain in her throbbing nerves was unbearable, and the poor girl managed a helpless scream this time, just before another tooth came free from her jaw and the metallic taste of blood stained her tongue. However, her plight was apparently not enough, as she felt the cold, cruel metal slam against her already-bruised cheek a few seconds later, dislodging a couple more teeth. It didn't hurt so much any more, as she was on the brink of darkness. She felt disconnected from the now-mutilated form she'd spent her life in, only managing to sob helplessly as the foul-tasting rubber was shoved past her lips again.
Florence wondered what she'd done to deserve this.

The scent of sweat and alcohol hung heavy in the air. Not like there was much air down here. Florence was at a small, technically-unauthorized club, a little tin-can in the middle of nowhere, as she was nearly every Saturday. The cops didn't know about this place - previously an old abandoned shack a few miles into the countryside, which meant this was where the real fun went on. Girls in tiny PVC dresses with even tinier excuses for underwear patrolled the sidelines of the room, handing out bizzare cocktails and little white pills to those who strayed from the main mass of people. Florence preferred it here. She liked watching the mass of bodies move almost in the manner of a vast, singular entity, watching it shift at the prompts of different beats which pounded in her chest. It fascinated her.

Besides, it was always the more interesting people who stayed away from the crowd. Those who hated the attention were often the people who deserved it the most. Of course, that didn't mean that Florence had to be plain. As she "dropped" the stirrer for her drink and bent over to retrieve it and - if the lustful stares were anything to go by - obviously showed a fair amount of her little pink panties in the process, she thought that she was getting just as much attention as any of those trashy women with the tube tops who made up the center of the crowd.

There was one guy in particular she'd had her eye on. He was tall, and looked pretty out of place in his flannel shirt. And she'd caught the little glint in his off-green eyes as he'd watched her bend over. She looked him up and down once more, taking note of his slender hands, the scruffy blonde hair that fell around his shoulders and the somewhat impressive bulge in his jeans. A little smirk forming on her lips, Florence flicked back a stray strand of fire-y hair and began to walk towards her target, her barely-clothed, curvaceous hips swaying with each step. He was hers.

Striking up polite conversation, although boring, was quite easy. She hadn't paid much attention to what he was saying. She was too focused on ensuring he was absolutely enticed by her. She dropped all the not-so-subtle hints she could, brushing her lithe form up against him whenever she got the chance and breathing in his scent. She noticed as his gaze trailed down to her firm, supple cleavage, visible through the gap in her halter-neck top. They must have stayed like that for a while, Florence showing off every inch of delicious skin as she possibly could. However, something in particular that her new "friend" said had caught her off guard.
"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Those green eyes fell upon her once more.
"No." Florence smiled her roseate, gentle smile, her tone full of mock-innocence as she played with the dip-dyed pink ends of her hair.
"Oh. But I saw you earlier with this man..." He trailed off, a hint of suspicion in those enchanting eyes.
Florence couldn't help but giggle a little, realizing he must have been talking about one of her acquaintances at the club. Granted they were a good fuck, and among the only people who understood her little "kink", but they were no more.
"You don't get out too much, do you?" Florence wrapped her arms around her new playmate's broad neck, firmly pressing her voluptuous form up against him, daring to grind her shapely hips up against the bulge in his jeans.

And that was when she realized exactly what was going on.
And that was when a searing pain shot through her jaw, jolting her back to reality.]

Toutaku · Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2012 1:39 am Post subject:

[He knew she was awake. Her breathing had changed to shallower, quicker breaths. She was scared.

Not as scared as she would be, however, if she were left to her own devices for a while. Give her mind a chance to wonder, for the reality and hopelessness to sink in. Lester could wait, easily. He had all the time in the world.

Letting her breaths dissolve into more faint whimpers and muffled sobs, Lester let his own mind do its own brand of wandering. He remembered the delectable encounter before his new toy.

Hair a beautiful chocolate brown was only made more beautiful by matted blood and filth. He remembered her lithe form battered and broken, gashes and claw marks leaving crimson trails across alabaster skin. He forced her to watch as he threaded a hooked needle with steel wire. He had set up a mirror, so she could watch as she had her own moist flesh carved off of the freshly severed arm. She had been broken for a time, for there was only mild disgust at the sight of her own body mutilated. Her only strong reaction came when her shredded meat was forced into her own mouth. She gagged and retched, but the steel wire and thread made sure her mouth stayed closed. When his rough stitching was done, she cried. Oh, how she had cried. But, for all her distorted wailing, her jaw did not move. It took a severe slap, a rusty scalpel to the throat and two fingers clamped firmly over her nostrils before she gave in to the inevitable defeat. Ragged sobs jerking her shoulders, and dirtied tears carving rivers into her grime-covered cheeks, she began to chew her own flesh. Slowly, but surely the sounds of her moist chomping became stronger. Expressions of disgust, shame and horror were abundant on her face, and her revulsion led her to gag more than once, but a part of her knew that to satisfy his every whim would be her only chance of escape. Clamping his strong hand over her jaw and tilting her head back, Lester saw her throat move sickeningly as she swallowed what had once been part of her own meagre tricep.

Finally letting her go, the broken woman simply fell to the side, truly dead behind the eyes. There was no more fun to be had with this one, but the pleasure of the act had been worth the sacrifice. Now Lester urged for his own release.

Letting his throbbing erection loose from his trousers, he pulled her hair back to expose her bruised neck. Letting the scalpel pass before her eyes, she didn't seem to care as he sliced a small opening into her throat, and hurriedly forced his erection inside. The hot liquids splashing forth onto his overalls, and the vibration of her trachea as she tried in vain to scream were almost too much for Lester to handle, and within five minutes he had already shot his seed into her still-warm corpse. His body shaking in post-coital aftermath, he let go of her still shoulders. The now-cadaver fell to the floor with a sickening splat, and Lester leaned back in his chair after almost collapsing.

Truly, it would be hard to top that particular game. But Lester would endeavour to try his hardest.

His attention finally brought back to the present with the whore's incessant whining, he thought it high time to take action. Grabbing his pliers again, he walked in front of her and stared. Showing her the pliers and watching her recoil, his smile once again twitched in approval. Moving pointedly slowly, he began to stroke her left hand. Her obvious discomfort made him all the more eager to play with her. Letting the pliers clamp down on the nail of her index finger, he made sure to once again look her in the eye, almost as if he was waiting for a nod of approval. When she closed her eyes to avoid the sight, he knew he had her in control. With a mighty tug, he ripped the nail clean from the flesh, leaving behind more blood and another healthy scream. Four more times she screamed, and when he was finished her left hand was left raw and oozing.

It was time for her to barter. Thinking he would remove another tooth and let her offer to please him in return for her freedom, he played with the straps of her ball gag. Releasing the apparatus, he freed her mouth, only to have her immediately spit blood into his eyes.

Lester snapped. This filthy, disgusting whore had the gall to dirty him and call him twisted. For the first time, he was not smiling. She shine of victory was in the bitch's eyes, and he did not like that one bit.

She had to be punished.

Once again, he punched her viciously, this time on the other cheek. She needed to stay conscious for this. He grapped her maimed hand roughly, and squeezed the ruined fingers enough to make the cartilage squeak. Her screams were not enough to placate him this time, however. Grabbing her middle finger, he sharply pulled the digit back until the soft, wet pop confirmed it had snapped. Ignoring her squirming and moans, he repeated the process with every finger on her already-mauled limb, leaving her with what might as well have been a stump.

Still not sated, Lester grabbed her throat and Squeezed. Choking her forcefully, he slammed her head against the metal table. Her face began to turn purple from asphyxiation, and her eyes had rolled back into her head before Lester finally released the pressure and stood back. Believing his point to be made, he stood back and kicked the table, thus forcing it back into it's horizontal position.

Leaving the rebellious cunt to her injuries, he walked to the small sink in the corner to clean his face. Towelling the reddened water off of his visage, Lester looked at his reflection in the small mirror.

He would see to it she would suffer tonight. He would make sure she regretted her actions more than any sinner begging for redemption. He would make her offer him the world. He would make heinously unfair requests, and see that she carried them out, all in exchange for her life.

And he would betray her, just to see her face.]
_________________

"Victims, aren't we all?"

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

[The dull ache in her jaw made Florence sob softly through her gag, having no choice to swallow the warm, somewhat viscous blood that seeped from the bloodied indents where her teeth once were. She flinched at her assailant's every movement, studying his broad form with curiosity as she watched him pace unnervingly quietly, only beginning to squirm for real when she saw him grasp the pliers once more.

Her wordless, muffled protests grew louder as she felt the cold metal brush against her lissome fingers with an ever so soft, almost tender manner. She caught a gleam of the unnatural, unchanged grin on her captor's face as she tried to move her slender digits away from the inevitable mutilation, only to feel the pliers clamp down on one of the fragile nails, adorned with hot-pink varnish, regardless of her efforts. There was a brief, torturous pause, and as Florence squeezed her eyes shut to prevent her stomach from twisting itself into even more contorted forms, the pain erupted in her fingertip - although it was the unfamiliar stinging pain of the cold air on her delicate flesh - not the actual pain of the nail being tugged free - that bought the tears to Florence's eyes and the sour taste of vomit to her throat once more.

Despite her best protests, the rest of her fingers underwent the same torture in abnormally rapid sucession, although each moment the pliers lingered on her nails dragged out for a brutal eternity. By the time she could feel the unbearable stinging on all five of her digits on her left hand, and the tears streaming from her eyes - red from crying - Florence reluctantly examined the damage, for fear out of what may happen to her eyes if she decided to keep them closed. There wasn't as much blood as she thought they'd be, yet small quantities of the red liquid still seeped from the reddened, angry indents in her flesh. Florence was furious. She'd spent hours looking after her nails the night before, measuring each claw-like little nail to ensure they were perfectly even.

The satisfied, yet still somehow hungry look that burned into Florence as she felt a pair of large yet skilled hands trace along the straps of her ball gag, almost stroking her hair in the process, was what really riled her up. She shuddered in disgust at his mere touch, and - as soon as the foul tasting rubber rid itself from her mouth - she spat at him. A mess of spittle tinged pinkish with blood, she spat right in his fucking eyes.
"Twisted cunt." She half-growled and half-sobbed hysterically, too vengeful to immediately regret her torture.
And then his smile faded.

The feel of a fist that hit her round the face like a metric fuckton of bricks was agonizing, but Florence was soon distracted as she felt a much stronger hand grasp her already-damaged fingers.
"D-D-Don't you fucking d--!" Her voice, strained and hoarse, was cut off by an involuntary scream as she heard the cartilage in her joints let out an exasperated squeak, feeling her fingers stiffen beyond control. The snapping that followed wasn't as painful as it was just sheerly horrific, and Florence found herself retching pathetically once more between screams and whimpers as she looked down at her ruined, mangled digits.

The glance was only fleeting, however, as soon after her throat was grabbed roughly, the furious grip smashing her skull against the cold metal table, over and over again. Florence would have screamed, if she could have. It should have been a lot more painful, but the grey silence which fizzled on the edges of her vision consumed more of the world around her each time she felt her head impact with the table. When she was finally released, it took the now-broken young woman a few seconds to realize, with disappointment, that she was still alive.

When her twisted torturer disappeared from Florence's admittedly poor line of view - also obscured by a few strands of warm, pink-tipped red hair - she looked down at herself as she caught her breath. She was broken, for sure. The blood flowing from her open knee had trickled down her legs in almost fascinating patterns, pooling on the table beneath her slightly. She could feel the bruising on her throat rising, no doubt a foul purple, but nothing in comparison to the darker, even white-tinged tones that covered the flesh around her cunt, the few scraps of pink cotton and lace that stubbornly clung to her deliciously curvy hips now completely stained red with more blood. Even more blood now dripped freely from the corner of her quivering, delicate lips, a single unbroken line of red. Her hands were the worst, though. Barely recognizable as once human, they looked like something Florence once saw on a shock site. Her entire shapely form was now nearly sheet-white, from the fear and the bleeding out.

She studied her disgusting, almost sub-human body until she became desensitized and her sobbing ceased. It didn't take too long.]

Toutaku · Posted: Tue Mar 06, 2012 2:30 am Post subject:

[The pressure and the tension were clouding Lester's icy cold judgement, and he knew he had to relieve the building sexual urge before it was too late and he broke her too soon. Deciding that a little mild violation of her dignity was the lesser of two evils, his convoluted mind was made up.

Quick as a flash, he once again tipped her table to a forty-five degree angle. This time, however, it was in the opposite direction. The blood was surely thundering to her head. Ripping the hardened rubber ball from her mouth, he instead retrieved a different kind of mouth-restraint from his filthy workbench. This one had spider-like forceps that forced the mouth open without obstructing the path inwards. Rigging up the mechanism to her maw, he was glad to see some not-quite-dry viscera fall onto her tongue.

Feeling as though his unwilling charge was perhaps not quite as scared as she could or indeed should be, Lester once again found his pliers. Tearing another two teeth from their respective little homes, he found himself once again becoming aroused. After slapping her again, he felt ready. Freeing his stifled member, he let her eyes drink in every detail as he made clear his intentions.

Ignoring her frenzied struggling, he thrust his throbbing cock deep in her throat, and audibly moaned when she gagged. The tension as her throat closed was simply delicious. His thrusting became erratic as he lost himself to the pleasure, her obvious disgust fuelling his carnal animality.

As his orgasm hit, Lester hunched over and let his release fill her throat. Pulling free, he stepped back to watch the thick semen run from her restrained jaw, over her face. It filled her nostrils and tried to invade her eyes, making her wriggle and squirm with discomfort.

His mind once again crystalline, he decided that play time was indeed over. He needed to scare her, and show her that he was all too willing to end her life. He approached the workbench, and ran his gloved fingers over the rusted metal devices, searching for a suitable candidate for just that. Eyeing a long, thin skewer, he raised it to his field of vision and nodded.

'This,' he thought, 'Will do nicely.

Lester dragged the point over her thigh. Her hip bones and abdomen were next. He could tell from her expression that she thought he was toying with her, and that he wouldn't do anything else. How could he want more after raping her so?

Suddenly and viciously sinking the cold metal deep into her gut, he proved her wrong. Twisting the tool, he could see the green tinge to her face as her stomach began to reject everything inside her body.

Standing back, he smiled as she was set to humiliate herself.]
_________________

"Victims, aren't we all?"

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

[Florence didn't dare to protest as she was forced into another uncomfortable position, despite the less-than-comfortable feeling of the blood rushing to her already flushed face. She even remained still once she felt the gag fall loose from her mouth, glancing down at her ruined hand as a reminder to what would happen if she didn't co operate. Only a slight shudder ran down her spine this time, and that was mainly out of the fear of what other body parts might be mangled by the end of this ordeal.

Her thoughts snapping back to reality, Florence became vaguely aware of something else prising her jaws apart. Something metal. Something bloodied. The foul, sour splash of not entirely dried offal on her tongue warranted a meek, pathetic gag from Florence, but she remained otherwise silent.

Another mistake, it seemed. The new angle wasn't the most efficient when it came to viewing her surroundings, but the familiar force of the pliers clamping down on another of her white, well-tended teeth elicited a weak, protesting groan from her - at least, as much of one as her new gag would allow. The blood swimming in her head dulled the now-familiar pain slightly, but the red-tinged drool ran freely along Florence's pallor face, matting her hair as she felt another tooth pulled free. This made the anger in Florence flare up again, although she couldn't do much about it, her hair was important. More so than her nails. Unsurprisingly, her the weak noises emitting from her bruised throat were challenged with another slap.

What happened after that, however, was quite a surprise indeed. A warm, large, slightly wet mass was shoved roughly into Florence's now-unguarded, slack mouth - something that felt fleshy, the young woman noted as she gagged almost instantaneously. The soft, pleasured groan that echoed in the room confirmed the worst. Unable to follow up her immediate reaction of biting due to the gag, Florence began to struggle furiously, attempting to escape the air-restricting assault to no avail. She could feel beads of drool and blood forming at the corners of her mouth once more, and if the almost frantic way her attacker slammed his erect cock into her throat were anything to go by, then the soft sobs that made her windpipe vibrate only seemed to fuel his lust.

No more than a few rather powerful thrusts later - so powerful, in fact, that the young woman was struggling not only to force back vomit, but to breathe entirely - and there was an eruption of sticky, salty warmth inside Florence's throat. She spluttered and gasped for air frailly, forcing some of her captor's warm release out of her mouth in the process, letting out a gurgled sound of disdain from her raw throat. Her hair was ruined now, a rapidly tangling mess of tears and blood and other fluids.

And already the thick, not entirely unpleasant mess trickling down Florence's throat was beginning to have an effect on her. She blushed furiously, fighting her curious urge to simply swallow the liquid. Neither of these solutions could cease her ruined, swollen cunt's dampness from the mere taste of her violation, however, and she hated that.

But that wasn't enough. Oh, of course it wasn't. Almost as soon as her assaulter had withdrawn from Florence's wrecked throat, he'd been thinking. And now, he'd thought. And the light, almost teasing sensation of a skewer-like item dancing over the flesh of her thighs and hips made little goosebumps form on the surface of Florence's delicious, china-like skin, bleached bone white from trauma. She let out a reluctant, tortured moan from behind her gag, and that was when the pain erupted into her abdomen.

She didn't know where he'd struck, but he'd struck it perfectly and he'd struck it with force. A slight twist of the object made the young woman's insides feel like they were on fire, and the nausea was overpowering.
Quite literally, she realized, as she extravasated.

The urine came first, if only by a second. A warm flow which - due to the unfortunate manipulation of gravity in her current position - soaked through the dilapidating shreds of pinkish fabric clinging to Florence's brutalized cunt, before making a path up her quivering form, its acrid scent flooding her nostrils. Then there was the shit - less dramatic, but far more foul, the almost water-like substance staining the back of her underwear. And through her sheer disgust and the smoldering blush in her cheeks, Florence vomited. A mixture of sour, fizzy fluid from last night's escapades, along with a slight hint of saltiness, flowed freely into Florence's hair, her struggle to escape the solution from flooding her senses near impossible.

Her horrified, sheerly embarrassed gasps drawing the mixture back into her throat - only to be spluttered out once more - proving to be too much, Florence blacked out, if only for a second.]

Toutaku · Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2012 11:30 pm Post subject:

[Lester watched the whore's body reject with utter glee. It would only be a matter of time before she was completely broken.

Pulling his chair to a more enjoyable position, he watched as the foetid mix of slurry made it's way down her squirming form. The disgusting blend of wastes oozed down her body, making its way to her vulnerable face.

As Florence became thoroughly soiled, Lester unravelled a length of hose ending in a lightly rusted shower head. Nearly boiling water ran through this pipe, and his toy was in need of a thorough clean.

Aiming his new tool at the quivering, semi-conscious form in front of him, he smiled as he noticed a small amount of her own fluids dripping into her mouth. She was indeed ready for a thorough cleaning.

Opening the flow, he showered his victim with scalding hot water, washing the dried grime and gore from her body, but leaving burns in their place.

As she opened her mouth to scream once more, Lester chuckled softly. She was his.]
_________________

"Victims, aren't we all?"

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

[Florence writhed as frantically as the searing pain in her gut would allow, able to avoid the foul mixture of fluids which was attempting to invade her senses for no more than a moment - just enough time to sight her aggressor reaching for something that looked suspiciously like a shower head. Although she hoped that it was unnecessary, the young woman began to whimper pathetically against the strange device , forcing back a choke as more of the viscous shit that stained her terrified, ruined form crept past her gag.

The hissing jet of water wasn't immediately painful when it hit Florence, her senses temporarily dulled by her confusion. When the pain did decide to flare up, however, it was excruciating. Her attacker was merciless, and his aim was unchallenged. The torrid liquid seared Florence's tongue, and left the beginnings of welts on her inner thighs as it trickled down her curvaceous body, drenching the filthy scraps of cotton which clung to her and consequentially baring her sensitive nipples, raw and swollen from the heat. The worst, however, was when the warmth hit what remained of what remained of her knee, the contact on her exposed nerves almost enough to make the girl succumb to unconsciousness once more. Sadly, this didn't happen, despite her desperate wishes. Hot tears stung Florence's tender, flushed cheeks by the time her abductor finally pulled away, and as she eyed him once more - as pathetic as her vision was by now - she noticed the perverse bulge in his pants, present once more.
Maybe she could use this to her advantage...

He must have noticed her disgusted, sore-eyed gaze, as the unnatural smile on his face grew again. Barely able to look him in the eye for more than a few seconds, Florence nearly backed out and looked away, feeling tears sneak into the corners of her near-dead, tawny gaze. But when she saw him reach for another monstrous, gore-stained implement, her mind was made up and she began shaking her head frantically, attempting the closest thing to speech possible with her jaws prised open. It was then that she saw something change in his sickly green leer.

The soft brush of his gloved hand against her cheek made Florence shudder, flinching slightly as she was freed from the foul, rusted metal that clamped her jaws. By this point, successful speech seemed unnatural for her, and it took her a few moments to process what to say.
"Please don't kill me..." She settled on eventually, her voice punctuated with pathetic sobs. "P-P-Please, I can - I can do whatever you want..." She mumbled the last part, a disgusted, furious shade of red working its way across her cheeks.
"And I w-won't even tell anyone."

She reluctantly looked up at the figure towering over her again - her body trembling in all its mutilated entirety - and awaited a response, her mind swimming with nerves.]

Toutaku · Posted: Thu Mar 15, 2012 11:11 pm Post subject:

[Finally, the whore had shown her true colours. Lester's fun was reaching its apex.

First, the demented surgeon kicked the table over once again, so she was at a ninety degree angle from the floor. Taking his scalpel, he gripped her ankle forcefully, pulling it as far from the table as the leather bindings would allow. Holding it there for a second while he observed her fearful expression, he jammed the blade behind her Achilles tendon. Hamstringing the wailing bitch, he moved swiftly on to the other leg before standing up and admiring his work.

The whore wouldn't be able to escape now.

Scalpel still in hand, he cut the tiny remains of her clothing off of her, leaving her completely exposed. The matted gore around her crotch, and the swelling caused by her bruising was tantalising to his twisted mind.

Unfastening her bindings, he watched her fall to the floor, completely unable to stand. Retrieving a pair of handcuffs from the worktop, he pulled her arms behind her and locked her wrists together.

She was ready and presented, her bruised and battered cunt his for the taking.

Not that he'd be using it.

Freeing his tortured erection from his trousers once again, he rubbed the tip against the swollen, raw flesh around her vagina, teasing the oversensitive flesh. Just as the whore beneath him began to shudder from apprehension, he roughly pulled on her arms, and forced his throbbing cock deep into her anus.

Ignoring her screams, or the sensation of tearing flesh, he thrust as hard as he could muster, relishing in the delicious friction and her obvious discomfort.

As the deep red of her blood seeped from her wounds, lubricating him, Lester chuckled in his near-silent but malicious way, content with the evening's entertainment.]
_________________

"Victims, aren't we all?"

LenLenWearsBlue · Joined: 18 Mar 2011 Posts: 1059 Location: Under your bed.

[The strong grip on her slim ankle prompted Florence to futilely thrash against her restraints, further bruising the bone-white skin of her sore, tired wrists. She barely managed a pathetic squeak of "don't" before the smooth steel cut through the supple flesh at the back of her leg, coaxing more screams from her raw, abused throat.

The immense pain jarred Florence's grasp on reality, and she forced out a weak groan as she felt the filth-stained remnants of what was once her underwear being torn free from her shapely hips, a faint blush staining her cheeks as she realized the entirety of her pallor, defeated form was now bared. And she didn't expect her assailant to be merciful.

Florence was mostly unharmed as she fell to the floor, the skilled hands which had unfastened her restraints having proven too quick for her to register. Only momentarily jarred by her impact with the ground, the broken young woman sobbed as she clawed frantically at the slippery floor, slick with watered-down blood - her blood. Having barely slithered a few agonizing centimetres through the mess, Florence felt a strong hand tug her arms behind her back, only managing an accepting yelp as she felt the joint pop, no doubt dislocated.

Handcuffs, made of a sharpish metal yet somewhat blunt, bound her wrists in the few torturous moments of quiet that followed next - not that she was struggling anyway. And then she felt it. The warm violation twitched eagerly as it probed the entrance to Florence's brutalized cunt, causing a sickly-sweet shiver to work its way along the girl's spine, the bile rising in her throat once more. And then came the real intrusion.

A powerful tug forced the victimized woman closer to her defiler, directly onto the engorged shaft which greedily tore into her anus. The searing hot pain caused Florence to see white, and she lowered her head in agony, disgust and sheer shame, coughing out small, bloodied trails of drool and bile. The tears flowed freely down her face as her master slammed into her over and over again, each time more painful than the last as he tore her apart. And yet, as reluctant as it may have been, Florence couldn't help but take note of the faint feeling blossoming in the pit of her ruined stomach - a feeling of pleasure. As she was continuously raped, Florence quietly let out a small series of sobs, punctuated with disgusted moans.
She was his.]