The young captive’s face shone bright with sweat and blood. It dripped in darkening rivulets down either side of his bruised eyes and broken nose, joining the mucus and dried blood around the nostrils and all about the dry and swollen mouth. As he gasped for breath he displayed the jagged stumps of splintered teeth in both upper and lower jaws. The hammer came down hard on his left hand, shattering bone and pulping sinew, causing the man to scream his terror and fresh agony.
"So I’ll ask you again," The man said calmly. "Who else was in on it."
He was tied naked and spread-eagled to the floor of the cellar, wrists and ankles spread obscenely wide, ropes knotted so tightly that they had disappeared into his purpled flesh. He had been so brutally tortured that it was difficult to even guess his age, but from the sparse growth of hair around his chin, he was probably no older than eighteen or nineteen. The youth tried to think hard through the haze of his pain. He searched his mind for the names that could end his torture, that could put a stop to the agony he had endured now for two full days. His brain wasn’t fast enough, and the interrogator nodded to the beaming young woman next to him, causing her to smile even more brightly as she raised the hammer once again.
"Better hit him again, Jenny."
She reached over and selected an undamaged area, raised her hand high. This time, the hammer smashed down on the bound youth’s left kneecap, filling him with blinding pain, causing him to screech and arch his body up off the floor. Over the next half an hour, the man received seventeen similar blows from the girl until, whimpering with self pity and terror, he finally passed on six names to his interrogators.
The man who had led the torture smiled and turned to face the other end of the cellar. His chilling blue eyes surveyed the three trembling figures bound and kneeling behind the sturdy bars of the cell.
"Is he telling the truth?" All three youths nodded eagerly. They too displayed signs of beatings and torture, although none to the same extent as their colleague. Now they were desperately wanting the man and the girl to believe them, for their ordeal to be over.
Turning to the pretty brunette, the man spoke. "I want the fuckers – have them picked up, and make sure they’re alive when they get here." The girl nodded in a business-like manner. She stood up and made for the stairs, the smartly cut pencil skirt of the grey suit swirling around her knee length boots, her perfume lingering after she had gone. After watching his personal secretary disappear with an appreciative eye, the man looked down at the pathetic bundle of flesh staked out in front of him.
The last two days had not been pleasant for the four youths who formed part of the gang that had tried to swindle him in an arms deal, particularly this one, the ringleader. They had all been whipped, kicked, burned and beaten to varying degrees. Their teeth, fingernails and toenails had been slowly ripped out, fingers snapped from sockets. But this one had been unfortunate enough to be the one that Jenny took a shine to. He saw the pulped flesh that had once been a good sized penis, remembered how she had sucked it into hardness and then slowly and lovingly scoured it with a wire brush until she had removed all traces of skin, shredded it to a soggy mess. The screaming had been so bad that he had almost felt sorry for the youth. Coming back to the present, he took a step back and launched an angry kick into the boy’s side, hearing the satisfying snap of ribs.
"You kept me waiting for two whole days, you little fucking bastards. I’m really going to have…" The man was interrupted by the sound of stilettos tapping on the stairs. He smiled as he recognised the pair of gleaming black boots appearing in the gap at the top of the steps, the heels impossibly slim and three inches high. They were met at just below knee length by the hem of a beige leather skirt, which danced and skipped as it flared out from trim hips. The rest of Angela Benson finally emerged at the foot of the stairs, her shining blonde hair cascading around perfectly developed shoulders. As she stepped across the floor towards her husband, she wore an expression of haughty disdain, fully aware of the effect that she had on all those present. With glossy red lips curled into a sneer of disapproval, she carefully avoided a puddle of congealed blood and daintily stepped over the spreadeagled and bruised prisoner. She seemed unconcerned that the man had swivelled his head to follow her every move through his swollen eyes. With her splayed boots dangerously close to his upturned face, she must also have realised that the flare of the skirt allowed the naked prisoner to see a fair way at what was under it. If so, this did not appear to bother her.
"For God’s sake, Giles, haven’t you finished? We’re due at the Rose’s for dinner!"
Giles Benson chuckled. "All in good time, my love. These things simply cannot be rushed." He selected a thin cigar from his pocket and lit it. His words caused Angela Benson to give a sigh of exasperation. "Honestly, I don’t know why you bother playing with these peasants. I mean, can’t you just shoot them and have it done with?"
Despite her words, the three teenagers in the cage followed the jiggle of her bra-less breasts under her blouse, even as she waved her arm to encompass them in her mercenary intent.
"Angela, my beautiful sexy wife. You of all people should realise that there would be no fun in that, and besides, what would all our friends think if we didn’t provide them with some entertainment on Friday night?"
Appearing to concede the point, the woman studied the broken figure at her feet. She stepped around him thoughtfully, almost as if she was circling her prey. Stopping by his legs, she idly stretched out her boot until it was resting on the manacled youth’s battered and bloody testicles. Slowly, relishing the action, she ground her sole down hard, crushing one of them against the floor and causing him to scream. As the tendons in her neck began to show with the exertion, a distinct pop indicated that the testicle had ruptured. Keeping her weight on the boot, the beautiful girl twisted and ground it down harder, studied the screaming boy at her feet disinterestedly as if he was no more than an ant. She finally turned her attention back to her husband. "OK, if you must have your fun. And after all, it IS ladies night this time…. But they’ll keep for Friday, so go and get changed now."
Giles Benson gave a resigned shrug and strode towards the stairs. As he was climbing them, his wife called after him. "And take your shoes off in the kitchen. I don’t want you getting blood on my new bedroom carpet!"
Angela turned and looked back down at the broken man for several seconds before speaking. "You know, peasant, it’s not polite to look up a lady’s skirt without asking her permission."
The youth paled considerably, by now terrified at what she was capable of. "I…I’m ss…sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to…"
The blond woman threw back her head and laughed, displaying perfect white teeth. She lowered her voice, teasingly. "Oh, don’t apologise, I’m flattered. Lots of girls like men to look at them..." She stepped closer and placed one stiletto heel on each side of the boy’s head, straddling his face. Grasping the hem of the leather skirt, she raised it to her waist and squatted until her perfect rump was inches from his eyes, the swell of her sex enhanced by her expensive lingerie.
"Take a real good look if you want." Angela giggled as she watched the shackled youth stare, transfixed by the sight of the skimpy white triangle hovering immediately above his face. She was getting moist when she delivered her bombshell. "And after all, I’m going to get off on watching you die at our little party, so it’s the least I can do. Hell, I might even snuff you myself." The blond watched the fear rise in the prisoner’s face and her smile grew brighter, meaner. Allowing the skirt hem to drop back into place as she stood, Amanda blew the youth a kiss and gave him a cheery wave, then headed for the stairs. Casting a glance back over her shoulder, she studied the three remaining youths in the cage, her eyes lingering over one in particular. He was finely muscled, square jawed, and with the exception of the marks caused by his beating, tanned and smooth skinned. A smile appeared on her face….
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