The Movies

based in a story of the same name
by Moses Philstein
Bob Clifford sat mesmerized. The flickering of the screen reflected in his shiny eyes. These were the best videos available, at least the best Bob had ever seen or been able to find. They were unlike anything Bob had ever seen in adult book stores or through advertisements in adult newspapers and magazines. As far as Bob was concerned, the long search had been worth it. The scenes being enacted before him were the hardest of hardcore S&M. These videos featured pure torture without any regard for the victim. In fact, the set he had were snuff videos. The victim didn't survive the movie. And the scenes weren't faked like Hollywood productions. These videos were very real!

A few weeks earlier Bob had at last met the supplier. It had taken almost a year to convince a friend with the right connections to sponsor him. He had met this friend at a private club which catered to people into S&M and B&D. Bob had heard rumors that an attractive older member named Rhonda had very perverted and sadistic tastes. The rumors also mentioned her collection of hardcore S&M videos, tapes supposedly much more severe than one could find at the adult book stores, tapes that weren't available through the usual sources.

Although Rhonda was much older than Bob, maybe fifteen or twenty years older, he still found her attractive, in a kinky sort of way. Bob thought she wore way too much make-up, but the tough, hard, kinky look definitely went with the image she projected at the club. Bob never saw her wear anything that wasn't made of black leather and she always wore ultra-high stiletto heels. And Rhonda had the longest fingernails he'd ever seen. Her nails were beautiful, slightly curved, tapered, professionally manicured, always polished in some dark shade of red, maroon, or purple, and extended at least three inches beyond the fingertips.

Despite the age difference, Bob made every effort to establish a friendship. One night at the club, Bob managed to engage Rhonda in conversation. They talked for a while. Bob asked if she would join him later for a drink. She said she already had plans, but she'd call him next week. Bob happily gave Rhonda his phone number and asked for hers. Rhonda replied that she never gave out her number; people always seemed to call at the most inopportune times. She said she'd call him.

Rhonda called Bob late Tuesday evening and said she'd meet him for drinks Thursday night at nine pm. Bob said he'd love to meet Thursday, but he already had made plans. How about Wednesday or Friday? Rhonda replied that she also had plans for Thursday night; the plans were with him. Did he want to see her or not? Bob agreed. Rhonda gave him the name of a bar, told Bob to be prompt. Bob called the young woman he had the Thursday date with, apologized, and made new plans.

Bob thought about Rhonda's call. 'She really has an attitude.' Bob wondered if she was like this with everyone. 'My way and only my way. What I want, when I want.' Bob considered calling her back; he'd tell her to kiss off. Bob remembered he didn't have her number. Maybe he'd stand her up, teach her a lesson in manners. Then he remembered the rumors, the videos she was said to have. Bob decided to swallow his pride and see where the relationship went.

Thursday evening, Bob was twenty minutes early for his date with Rhonda. He got a table where he could watch the door, ordered a drink, and waited. Nine o'clock came and went, then nine-ten, then nine-twenty. Bob thought he might have missed her when she arrived. He walked over to the bar, didn't see Rhonda. Bob began to wonder if she'd had an accident or was detained. Maybe she forgot. Rhonda arrived at nine thirty. She didn't apologize, didn't even mention she was late.

Rhonda looked fabulous. She wore skin-tight black leather pants and a very chic, short, glove soft black leather jacket. When Bob stood to help her remove the jacket, he noticed that the leather pants were so tight that the pants folded into her ass, separated her ass cheeks. Bob tried to hide his rising erection. Rhonda's short light brown hair was styled into a severe, modern version of the DA or duck's ass, which had been popular with tough girls in the fifties and sixties. Her hair folded into a long deep vertical crease at the center of the back of her head from the crown to the nape of her neck. Bob thought Rhonda must have used a whole can of hair spray, maybe two cans, to achieve the effect. Not a hair was out of place. Rhonda looked like she had come directly from the beauty parlor.

Standing, Rhonda towered over Bob. She was wearing black leather shoes with platform soles that were at least two inches high and the highest stiletto heels Bob had ever seen. The toes and stiletto heels were chrome plated.

Rhonda wore a white silk blouse with a narrow black leather tie that fell between her beautiful large breasts. The blouse appeared to be hand made, specially designed for her. Rhonda's large breasts were encased in form-fitting pockets designed to emphasize her voluptuous breasts and deep cleavage. Bob thought he could see Rhonda's hard nipples pressing against the thin material of the silk blouse.

Bob thought Rhonda wore too much make-up to be beautiful, but he had to admit she was stunning. She wore very heavy black liquid liner around her eyes, thick black mascara on eyelashes that were too long to be natural, very heavy brown eye shadow highlighted with a heavy streak of silver shadow below her eyebrows. Her eyebrows had been carefully shaped, emphasized and extended with black pencil. Her lips were covered with an extremely heavy coat of very dark red lipstick. The lipstick had been applied outside her natural lip line and shaped so that arches formed toward the outside corners of the upper lips to make her lips look fuller, sexier. Bob thought the effect made Rhonda look tough, hard, and mean. 'Obviously the image she wants to project' thought Bob.

Small gold handcuff earrings fell from Rhonda's ears. Several expensive gold bracelets dangled from each wrist. Large rings adorned each of her long red taloned fingers.

Bob held her chair as she sat down. He lit the ultra-long black cigarette that Rhonda removed from a large gold cigarette case. Bob was fascinated by the black widow spider that adorned the top of Rhonda's cigarette case. Bob had never met a woman who was so extremely kinky, so totally an exhibitionist. Bob quickly forgot that she'd been thirty minutes late. Rhonda was the kinkiest woman he'd ever met. He was infatuated with Rhonda, thought he was the luckiest man in the world to be sitting across from her. She was fascinating, fun, sexy, intelligent, and totally depraved. Bob tried to act the perfect gentleman. Rhonda did most of the talking. Bob was attentive, listened to every word. Bob was captivated, felt his penis getting harder and harder as he sat, mesmerized by this stunning kinky woman.

The evening was going much better than Bob could have hoped, until Bob happened to glance at a beautiful, voluptuous young woman who walked by their table. As his head turned, Bob felt a terrible burning sensation. He quickly turned back to see Rhonda pressing her cigarette into his hand. Her eyes were black with anger. Even her voice was different; cold, sharp, biting. Rhonda told him that he was never, ever to look at another woman again. When he was with her, his eyes were for her and only her. She told him to leave, get out of her sight. Bob apologized, told Rhonda how sorry he was, promised to do anything to make amends. Rhonda told Bob that he must submit to her punishment ... or leave immediately and never see her again. Bob told her he couldn't bear losing her friendship. Bob adored her, worshipped her, would do anything for her. Bob agreed to submit to whatever punishment Rhonda thought appropriate ... if she would only give him another chance.

Rhonda signalled for the waiter. Bob paid the tab, helped Rhonda with her coat, and followed her out of the bar.

Rhonda guided him to her black Jaguar, opened the passenger door, pushed Bob roughly inside. Coldly, Rhonda ordered him,

"Take off your coat!"
Rhonda walked back to the trunk, opened it, and removed a sports bag containing ropes, straps, and a ball gag.

She returned to Bob's side of the car and tossed the bag on the back seat. Rhonda removed two ropes from the bag and tied one tightly around his right wrist, pulled his arm up over his shoulder and down behind his seat. She dropped the other end of the rope to the floor, tossed it forward under his seat, pulled on the rope until it was very tight, looped the rope around the seat's support frame, tied the loose end tightly around his right ankle, again looped the rope around the seat's support frame, tossed the remaining rope back under his seat. She tied the second rope tightly around his left ankle, looped the rope around the support frame, tossed the other end back under his seat, pulled the rope very tight, tied the loose end tightly to his right elbow, forcing his elbow and forearm as far down behind the seat as possible. She grabbed the rope leading from his right ankle, pulled every bit of slack out of it, brought it up behind his seat, and tied it tightly around Bob's right thumb, making sure that Bob's thumb was pulled painfully down toward the floor.

Bob was getting nervous. Bob asked,

"What are you going to do to me?"
Rhonda grabbed his face with her right hand. Her fingers and thumb squeezed into his cheeks. The tips of her outrageously long tapered dark red fingernails touched his ears.
"Punish you. Now shut up!"
Rhonda placed a long wide leather belt around Bob's abdomen, just below his ribs, wrapped the ends around the back of his seat, pulled the belt very tight, and buckled it. She dropped two long leather belts behind him, between Bob and his seat, and left those belts until later. Rhonda placed another long wide leather belt over Bob's chest, just below his armpits, wrapped the ends around his seat, again pulled the belt very tight, and buckled it.
"Lift your left thigh!"
Rhonda laid two leather straps under Bob's thigh with the buckles facing the driver's seat. Rhonda dropped two longer leather straps down between the Jaguar's console and Bob's seat. Rhonda draped the buckles over Bob's left thigh. She threaded the long wide belts under Bob's seat toward the door, brought them up over Bob's thighs, and buckled them tightly. One belt held Bob's upper thighs pressed tightly to the seat; the other belt held his knees firmly against the top of the seat.

Bob's body had begun to shake from fear. 'What did Rhonda intend to do? Why the ropes and straps? Why so tight? And Rhonda hadn't hesitated once. She seemed to select the right strap each time, never had to experiment.' Bob was really frightened now.

"Please, Rhonda. What are you going to do to me?"
Rhonda's cold dark eyes stared into Bob's. Her reply was harsh.
"I said to shut your fucking mouth! Another word out of you and I'll punish you for disobedience ... after I've punished you for insulting me by looking at another woman!"
Rhonda grabbed the ball gag, leaned over Bob so her face was inches from his.
"Open your fucking mouth!"
Frightened, Bob opened his mouth.
Rhonda shoved the ball gag roughly into Bob's mouth. Rhonda forced the large ball deep inside his mouth. She wrapped the attached straps around Bob's head. Rhonda pulled the straps tight, inserted one strap through the buckle of the other strap and pulled. Satisfied that the strap was about as tight as she could get it, Rhonda gave the strap a viciously hard pull across the roller buckle and fastened it. Bob felt the straps biting painfully into the corners of his mouth.

Rhonda fastened a strap around Bob's forehead and the seat's headrest. Bob was terrified. His body began to shake uncontrollably. Bob couldn't stop trembling.

Rhonda walked around the car, opened her door, and sat in the driver's seat. She loosened the buckle holding his upper thighs to the seat, pulled the belt two notches tighter, refastened the buckle. She loosened the buckle holding his knees to the seat, pulled harshly on belt, and fastened the buckle one notch tighter.

Rhonda grabbed Bob's left wrist and laid his forearm, palm up, on his left thigh. She used the two straps she had left loose under his left thigh to secure his forearm to the thigh. One strap was wrapped around his upper thigh and his forearm, just below the elbow. Rhonda pulled the strap until it was very firm, but not cutting off Bob's circulation. Rhonda wanted Bob's forearm immobilized, but still able to feel. There would be no numbness to lessen the pain. She wrapped the other strap around Bob's wrist, just above his hand, and his thigh, just above the knee. Rhonda threaded the strap through the buckle and pulled until Bob's wrist was firmly secured to his thigh. There was no movement possible from Bob's wrist to his elbow. She fastened the buckle.

Rhonda now fastened the two final straps, the ones she had left earlier between Bob's back and his car seat. She brought each strap around Bob's chest and wrapped them around his left upper arm, one just below the shoulder, the other just above the elbow. Rhonda threaded the straps through the roller buckles, pulled until each strap held Bob's upper arm firmly against his body, and fastened the buckles. Bob's left arm was now immobilized tightly against his body.

Rhonda adjusted the rear view mirror so she could see Bob's eyes without turning toward him. Rhonda removed her gold cigarette case from her purse, opened it, picked out a long black cigarette with her evil-looking long fingernails, lifted the cigarette to her lips, and lit the ultra-long cigarette with a gold lighter. As she inhaled, Rhonda studied the mouthpiece for a moment. Exhaling the cigarette smoke, she pulled down her sun visor, studied her face in the lighted vanity mirror. Rhonda took a tube of lipstick from her purse. Rhonda ran the lipstick back and forth, again and again, across her upper lip, then her lower lip, until she had applied a very heavy coat of fresh dark red lipstick. Rhonda took another drag on the cigarette, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs as she looked at Bob in the mirror. He looked scared.

"Cup your left hand! Keep your fingers close together. Do not open your hand or spread your fingers. Any disobedience will be punished severely!"
As Rhonda exhaled, she flicked the ash into Bob's cupped hand. Rhonda continued smoking the long black cigarette as she watched Bob in the mirror. Whenever there was a long dead ash on the end of her cigarette, Rhonda flicked the ash into Bob's left hand. Finally, Rhonda finished the cigarette and tossed it into the Jaguar's ashtray.

Rhonda removed a switchblade from her purse and pressed the button. Instantly, a long dangerous looking stiletto blade appeared. Bob was terrified, tried to talk through the gag. Not a sound escaped his gagged mouth. Rhonda lowered the stiletto toward Bob's forearm. Bob was shaking in fear. Rhonda used the razor sharp stiletto blade to cut off Bob's left shirt sleeve between the two straps holding his forearm to his thigh.

Bob was frightened out of his wits, trembling, overcome by fear, suddenly very afraid of what Rhonda was going to do with the knife. Bob tried to speak, beg, plead, but the ball gag, deep inside his mouth, muffled any sound.

Rhonda looked into the mirror at Bob, watched him trembling.

"Don't worry, wimp. I'm not going to cut you. I'm planning something much better. Something really painful! You'll just love it!"
Rhonda spent several minutes freshening her dark red lipstick. Finally satisfied, Rhonda lit a black six and a half inch long Nat Sherman cigarette. Rhonda took a drag and looked at Bob in the rear view mirror as she inhaled and exhaled. Bob was still trembling as he looked back at her and noticed her cold hard eyes. Rhonda took another drag on the long black cigarette, inhaled, exhaled. She looked at the glowing tip on her cigarette and took another drag. As she inhaled, Rhonda lowered the cigarette to Bob's left forearm. She flicked the end off the long hot ash into Bob's cupped hand; then she touched the cigarette's hot tip to Bob's wrist just above the strap holding his wrist firmly to his knee. Rhonda held the red hot tip on Bob's wrist until she finally exhaled the cigarette smoke. Bob had never felt such intense pain. He tried to move his left arm, but it wouldn't move. It was fastened securely to his left thigh. He screamed, but hardly any sound came from his gagged mouth. Bob's body was squirming, but his body didn't move more than a centimeter. Bob tried to twist his head, but the strap held his head firmly to the headrest. Bob realized how effective the straps and ropes bound him to the seat. Bob was completely immobilized, helpless, totally at the mercy of a woman who was rumored to be very sadistic. Bob's body was shaking uncontrollably.

Rhonda lifted the long cigarette to her lips and took another drag. Again she lowered the black cigarette to Bob's hand, flicked the ash into his waiting palm. As Rhonda inhaled, she pressed the hot tip into his wrist, barely half an inch above the first burn. Bob screamed into his gag. Bob's eyes begged for mercy. Rhonda looked at Bob's face in the mirror, saw the terror in his eyes. Bob saw her cold eyes staring at him as she burned his wrist with her evil black cigarette. Bob didn't see an once of mercy in her cold dark eyes. Rhonda had exhaled the cigarette smoke toward the mirror, but still pressed the red hot tip into Bob's wrist. Finally, her hand lifted the cigarette from his wrist. Bob would do anything to stop the pain. Bob wanted to plead for mercy, but the ball gag pressed deep into his mouth prevented any begging.

Rhonda looked down at the cigarette's tip. It had gone out. Rhonda relit the cigarette, took a drag, inhaled, exhaled. She took another long drag, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, and exhaled. She looked at the hot ember on the end of her long black cigarette. Bob watched in terror as she took another drag. As she inhaled, Rhonda looked at the glowing end. Exhaling the smoke toward Bob's face in the mirror, Rhonda brought the cigarette back to her lips. Bob watched Rhonda in the mirror as his beautiful sadistic torturer took another drag on the cigarette firmly held between her heavily rouged lips. Bob watched Rhonda as she brought the black cigarette up to the mirror. Rhonda looked across the long red hot glowing tip of her black cigarette at Bob in the mirror. Rhonda saw Bob, fear and agony in his eyes, staring back at the cause of his pain.

Satisfied that the long glowing tip of her cigarette was long enough, hot enough to cause the kind of intense pain she enjoyed inflicting, Rhonda lowered the fiery tip towards Bob's wrist. As she inhaled deeply, Rhonda flicked the dead ash into his palm. As Rhonda exhaled, she selected a spot less than half an inch from the previous burn and touched the cigarette to Bob's wrist.

Bob screamed into his gag. He couldn't believe that a simple cigarette could cause such excruciating pain. Bob tried to pull his arm away from the cigarette, but his arm wouldn't move. Bob tried to lower his arm to bring some relief from the intense pain, but the arm didn't move down either. Strapped firmly to the top of his left thigh, Bob's forearm was very effectively immobilized. Bob tried to move his left leg. Roped and strapped as it was, Bob's left leg hardly moved. That few centimeters of movement painfully pulled his right arm further down behind the seat. Bob realized how totally effective Rhonda's bondage was. Still silently screaming into the ball gag, Bob's eyes sought Rhonda's eyes in the mirror. Bob saw her eyes staring down at the cigarette. Her eyes were cold, intent, vicious. Bob couldn't see any mercy in Rhonda's evil eyes.

Bob was certain this wasn't the first time Rhonda had tied someone to a car seat. And Bob was positive that Rhonda had burned people with cigarettes before. Rhonda was too expert in the pain she was inflicting. Rhonda knew exactly what she was doing. Bob was terrified that Rhonda could continue this punishment, this pain, this torture for as long as she wanted. Bob had no way to stop her. Rhonda's ropes and straps had made Bob totally helpless, completely dependent on her mercy. Bob couldn't even scream for help. The ball gag prevented any sound. Even if someone passed close to the car, the Jaguar's dark tinted windows would prevent a would-be rescuer from seeing the torture being inflicted inside Rhonda's private dungeon on wheels.

Rhonda finally lifted the cigarette from Bob's arm. The cigarette had extinguished itself in Bob's flesh. Rhonda relit the cigarette and coaxed another long hot ash. She took a drag, inhaled, exhaled. Rhonda's eyes sought Bob's. He was looking into the mirror, looking at her. Rhonda saw terror, fear, begging in his eyes. Rhonda's cold eyes stared back at Bob. Rhonda intended to inflict more pain, cause Bob more suffering before she finished with his punishment. Rhonda would teach Bob a valuable lesson tonight, a lesson he'd never forget.

Rhonda took another drag on the black cigarette. She stared at the tip as she inhaled, then exhaled. She took another drag, inhaled, exhaled, looked at the tip. The tip was almost ready. Rhonda took a long deep drag and lowered the cigarette to Bob's arm. She flicked the ash into his hand, then pressed the red hot ember into Bob's wrist, less than an inch from the last burn. Watching the red hot tip burn Bob's wrist, Rhonda inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs and held it. As she exhaled the smoke, she continued to press the cigarette into Bob's arm. Rhonda looked into the rear view mirror at Bob's terrified eyes. His eyes were filled with tears. The tears were flowing down his cheeks.

Rhonda felt the wetness between her thighs, under her skintight black leather pants. Rhonda felt the wonderful spontaneous orgasm beginning. Rhonda thought it was moments like this, moments when she was inflicting excruciating pain, that gave meaning to her life.

Rhonda wondered how Bob would react when she really hurt him. This torture with a cigarette was excruciatingly painful, but didn't come close to her capabilities. This was only the beginning of her plans for Bob. She intended a very long, intensely painful relationship. Bob didn't know it, but Rhonda was a merciless, cruel, evil, perverted, vicious sadist who enjoyed inflicting pain on helpless victims. She constantly sought new victims, hunted them, used her looks to seduce them. Then Rhonda hurt them, beat them, tortured them. She had joined the private S&M club because it was a source for more victims. Rhonda even made sure that selected individuals, individuals she thought would make excellent victims, heard the rumors about her. Rhonda knew the rumors would attract certain docile victims into her web of decadence. But Rhonda's greatest pleasure was kidnapping unsuspecting, unwilling victims. That was the most exquisite pleasure of all, torturing a victim who wasn't into pain, wasn't into the S&M scene. Rhonda specially loved to torture the macho types until they were begging, quivering, screaming lumps of pain. They would offer to do anything, no matter how revolting, to stop the excruciating pain.

Inflicting pain had always turned her on. For as long as she could remember, since early childhood, Rhonda had enjoyed hurting others. She had dominated her playmates, introduced them to bondage games. Cowboys and Indians, prisoner of war, prison inmate, cruel stepmother, home invasion, Gestapo ... Rhonda would change the name of the game, but the result was always the same. When she had them tied up, helpless, unable to move, unable to protect themselves, Rhonda would torment them, hurt them, pinch them, poke them with sharp sticks, beat them with belts, straps, and switches. For as long as she could remember, Rhonda's favorite torture had been to hold the flame of a lighted match, a candle, or a cigarette lighter to her helpless victim's flesh.

Rhonda loved to torture her victims with lighted cigarettes. Rhonda thought cigarettes were such a great way to inflict pain. Cigarettes were so personal, so precise, so accurate. You could control the amount of pain so easily ... from a little scorch which was more intimidating than painful to a deep burn that took weeks or months to heal. When Rhonda was in her teens, cigarettes in her purse didn't even cause suspicion; but the cigarettes were always there, instantly available if she wanted to inflict pain. She would even use a cigarette to cause 'accidental' pain ... accidentally bump someone with the hot tip of her cigarette, then feign innocence.

Rhonda began smoking cigarettes when she was eleven, in her room, when she was alone in the house. A few weeks after she started smoking, her mother came home unexpectedly one afternoon and caught Rhonda in her room smoking one of her mother's long white cigarettes, experimenting with her mother's make-up, and wearing some of her mother's sexy black leather undergarments and spiked-heeled shoes. Her mother stood silently in the doorway watching Rhonda studying herself in the mirror, practicing different ways to hold and smoke a cigarette.

Rhonda's mother announced her presence by lighting a cigarette. Rhonda looked over, saw her mother, and thought she was in for an unpleasant scene. Instead, Rhonda's mother pulled up a chair and suggested ways to hold a cigarette. She instructed Rhonda on different ways to inhale and exhale the cigarette smoke. Rhonda's mother showed her how to achieve different looks with a cigarette ... how to look sexy, sophisticated, tough. Her mother asked Rhonda to practice walking around the room in the high spiked-heeled shoes, holding a cigarette, taking drags, inhaling, exhaling.

The following morning, her mother made an appointment at her beauty salon. After Rhonda received a new look which included a sophisticated new hair style, extensive make-up lesson, and manicure, her mother took Rhonda on a shopping spree. Rhonda got her first pair of four inch high spiked-heeled shoes, black nylon stockings with sexy seems, a black leather garter belt, black leather bra, black leather panties, a beautiful black leather mini skirt, and a fantastic looking black leather motor cycle jacket. Her mother let Rhonda wear the clothes when they left the store. The clothes Rhonda had worn were tossed into the car's trunk.

They stopped at a tobacco store where Rhonda's mother purchased a dozen different brands of cigarettes, telling Rhonda she could try them all, see which ones she preferred. Then her mother treated Rhonda to lunch at a chic restaurant. To test Rhonda's sophisticated new look, her mother offered Rhonda a cigarette, lit it, and ordered drinks for both of them. The waitress didn't even bat an eye. The new look obviously made Rhonda look like a chic young woman, able to pass for someone years older than Rhonda actually was.

Rhonda stopped daydreaming. She lifted the black cigarette from Bob's arm and brought it back to her lips. She took a drag, brought the cigarette back to life. She inhaled, exhaled, took another drag. She inhaled the smoke into her lungs, turned toward Bob, and exhaled the cigarette smoke into his face. Rhonda took another drag, looked at the tip. Inhaling, she lowered the cigarette to Bob's cupped palm, flicked off the spent ash, moved the evil cigarette to Bob's wrist, half an inch above the last mark. She studied the fiery tip as it scorched the skin, then blistered the tender flesh, then burned deep into Bob's soft wrist. She exhaled, still watching the glowing ember burning the tender flesh on the inside of his wrist. Rhonda looked into the mirror at Bob's face, revelled in the pain she saw in his eyes, watched the terror, watched the tears running from his eyes, down his cheeks. Rhonda continued pressing the cigarette's fiery tip into his wrist. Rhonda felt her second spontaneous orgasm engulf her. Her cunt and inner thighs were sopping wet.

Rhonda lifted the cruel black cigarette to her lips and took a drag. Turning toward Bob, she slowly inhaled the smoke into her lungs. Leaning over, Rhonda held the glowing tip of the cigarette inches from Bob's eyes. As she exhaled, Rhonda blew the smoke across the red tip of the cigarette into Bob's frightened face. Bob shuddered as he watched the cigarette's fiery tip glow brighter. Still turned toward Bob, Rhonda looked at him as she took another drag. His eyes were begging her to stop hurting him. There were muffled sounds coming from his gagged mouth. She inhaled the smoke, exhaled, took another drag on the evil black cigarette. As she inhaled, she studied the glowing end of her kinky cigarette. Rhonda exhaled and lifted the cigarette back to her lips for another drag. As she inhaled, she lowered the cigarette to Bob's wrist. She ran the hot tip slowly across Bob's arm, from his wrist to his elbow. As she exhaled, Rhonda ran the glowing ember back toward his wrist. She stopped the cigarette, let it rest on Bob's wrist. The glowing tip almost touched the last burn. She looked into the mirror as she pressed the fiery tip into Bob's wrist. Bob's face was twisted in agony; his eyes were filled with terror. Tears ran down his cheeks. Bob was screaming, but little sound escaped his gagged mouth. Rhonda felt her third spontaneous orgasm engulf her. Rhonda continued pressing the cigarette's long hot glowing ember into Bob's wrist. Rhonda's eyes alternated between Bob's terrified face and her wonderful instrument of torture. When the orgasm had subsided, Rhonda lifted the black cigarette from Bob's wrist.

Rhonda looked at her cigarette. The cigarette had gone out during her orgasm. The cigarette had lost more than half its original six and a half inch length. Rhonda brought the cigarette to her lips, relit it, took a drag, inhaled, exhaled. She took another drag, inhaled. Rhonda turned toward Bob and exhaled the cigarette smoke into his teary eyes. She took another drag, looked at the glowing tip. As she inhaled smoke deep into her lungs, Rhonda lowered the red hot tip to Bob's arm. She touched the center of his forearm with the cigarette, pressed it into his tender flesh. Rhonda looked down at the black cigarette still pressed into Bob's arm. Finally, Rhonda drilled the hot tip into his tender flesh, crushed the cigarette out as Bob screamed silently into his gag.

Rhonda tossed the cigarette butt into the ashtray. She opened her purse and took out her dark red lipstick. Rhonda applied a fresh heavy coat of lipstick to her lips. With her long fingernails, she removed a long black cigarette from her gold cigarette case. Rhonda looked into the rear view mirror at Bob as she lifted the mouthpiece to her lips and lit the cigarette. Bob stared back at her with terror in his eyes. Rhonda took a drag on the cigarette, inhaled. She turned toward Bob and exhaled the cigarette smoke into his face. Rhonda took another long drag on the cigarette, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, turned toward Bob, and exhaled the smoke into his tear filled eyes. She took another drag, inhaled. Rhonda turned toward Bob. She moved the black cigarette toward Bob's face, held the cigarette in front of his eyes, and exhaled the smoke across the cigarette's glowing tip. Rhonda looked at the terror in Bob's eyes.

Rhonda held the cigarette in her left hand. Her right hand moved toward Bob's crotch. She lowered his zipper, removed his penis and testicles from his pants with her long fingernails. Rhonda's left hand brought the cigarette's mouthpiece to her lips. Rhonda looked into the rear view mirror at the terror in Bob's eyes. As she dragged on the cigarette, she slowly stroked the head of Bob's penis with the fingertips of her right hand. Inhaling smoke into her lungs, Rhonda watched Bob's face in the mirror. There was fear in his eyes. As she exhaled the cigarette smoke, Rhonda continued to stroke his penis with her fingertips. While she continued to smoke her long black cigarette, Rhonda gently scratched his testicles with her long tapered fingernails, stroked the sensitive skin on the underside of his penis, just behind the head, with her long sharp nails.

Rhonda looked at Bob in the rear view mirror. As she exhaled the smoke toward the mirror,

"Have you learned your lesson? Or shall I continue with the cigarettes?"
Bob could barely move his head, but managed a barely perceptible nod as his eyes begged for mercy.

Rhonda took another drag, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs. As she exhaled the cigarette smoke, Rhonda told Bob he'd experience the exquisite pain of two cigarettes the next time he looked at another woman. Finally, Rhonda put the cigarette out in the ashtray. She heard a sigh of relief come from Bob's gagged mouth.

Rhonda got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. She untied the ropes and unbuckled the straps. She tossed the ropes, straps, and ball gag into her sports bag. Rhonda opened the trunk and tossed the bag inside. Rhonda returned to her seat with an expensive pale yellow shirt. The shirt was brand new, still had the pins in the collar and sleeves, was still in the original plastic bag. She tossed the shirt into Bob's lap.

"Put on the shirt ... and your coat! We're going back to the bar. Think you can keep your eyes where they belong?"
As they entered the bar, Rhonda told Bob to stand where he was. While Bob stared at the floor, afraid to look at any of the other women in the bar, Rhonda walked over to the hostess and whispered in her ear. They followed the hostess to a dimly lit, secluded booth in the far corner of the bar.

There were no other customers near them. Rhonda sat down facing the other tables. Bob chose to sit facing Rhonda and the wall. Rhonda removed a long black cigarette from her cigarette case. As Bob quickly offered Rhonda a light, he vividly remembered the excruciatingly painful punishment scene in the car.

A waitress came to take their order.

"Hi, I'm Jenna. Didn't I see you come in earlier? Can't be two women wearing that fabulous outfit. I was really disappointed when someone else got to wait on you last time. Glad you came back."
Rhonda responded that Bob had misbehaved earlier and they had merely left for a while so Rhonda could punish him properly.

The waitress looked at Bob, a smirk on her face,

"Were you a bad little boy. Did the mean lady spank you?"
Bob was humiliated, stared at the table, refused to answer. Rhonda watched Bob while she took a drag on her long black cigarette, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs. Exhaling the smoke into his face, Rhonda told him,
"Answer her!"
Bob wanted to crawl under the table, hide, run away. He continued to stare at the table as he softly begged,
"Please, Rhonda".
Rhonda's voice was harsh,
"I said to answer the lady!"
Bob lifted his head a few inches, spoke very softly,
The waitress was relentless,
"What did the mean lady do to you?"
Bob was embarrassed, continued to stare at the table.

Rhonda enjoyed watching Bob's embarrassment as she took a drag on her cigarette, inhaled, exhaled. Rhonda's tone was cold, menacing,

"Tell her what I did to you!"
Bob couldn't speak, kept his eyes down, stared at the table,
"Please, Rhonda, don't do this."
Rhonda's voice was cold, sharp,
"Answer her! Or do you want to go back to the car?"
Rhonda dragged on her cigarette, inhaled, exhaled the smoke at Bob's face. Rhonda pointed the long black cigarette threateningly toward Bob.

Bob was near tears; he could hardly speak,

"Rhonda burned me."
Jenna's eyes lit up.
"Oooh, wow!"
With a big smile, she looked over at Rhonda, then back at Bob.
"What did she burn you with?"
Bob's voice choked; he could barely speak.
"Rhonda burned me with her cigarette."
The waitress' mouth broke into an evil grin,
"Oooh, kinky! Where did she burn you?"
The waitress turned toward Rhonda.
"Can I see the burn?"
Rhonda looked at the waitress, smiled.
"This is between you, me, and my boy-toy. If you promise not to tell anyone what you see or what you've heard, I'll let you see the marks."
The waitress nodded,
"Don't worry. I won't tell a soul. I like your style. I'd never do anything to embarrass you. I hope you and I can get to know one another much, much better."
Rhonda looked at Bob,
"Remove your coat. Roll up your sleeve."
Bob didn't move, stared down at the table, pleaded,
"Please, Rhonda. Don't make me do this."
Rhonda took a drag on her black cigarette, inhaled. Exhaling the cigarette smoke into Bob's face, Rhonda pointed the cigarette threateningly at Bob. Rhonda's voice was pure venom,
"You have ten seconds before I take you back to the car! Maybe this nice woman would like to join us."
Rhonda looked at the waitress,
"Do you smoke?"
Jenna, their waitress, looked at Rhonda.
"Yes, I smoke. If I didn't, I'd start smoking right now!"
Bob removed his coat, rolled up the left sleeve. Humiliated, Bob's eyes remained fixed on the table.

Jenna stared at the ugly blisters and burns on Bob's wrist and forearm. She smiled as she looked at Rhonda with respect.

"Oh! Beautiful! Fantastic! I thought there would only be one burn. You are definitely one terrific, kinky woman! I really like your style. Can I buy you a drink?"
Rhonda looked at the waitress with affection, admiration.
"He's buying these. What time do you get off? Let's have a drink then. We can get to know one another. Swap 'bad little boy' stories. Talk about our favorite punishments."
Finally, the waitress left to get their drinks. Rhonda removed a tube of NeoSporin from her purse. She applied the ointment liberally to Bob's burned wrist and forearm. When she was finished, Rhonda slid the tube into Bob's shirt pocket. Rhonda told Bob to apply the ointment to the burns after he showered and several additional times each day. She told him to buy several more tubes of ointment and continue using it until the burns were almost fully healed.

Bob slowly recovered from his humiliation. For the next two hours, Rhonda and Bob sat at in the bar drinking and talking. Every time Rhonda smoked one of her long black evil looking cigarettes, Bob was reminded of his punishment. Bob's eyes never left Rhonda's face. When the waitress took an order or brought drinks, Bob's eyes stayed rivetted on Rhonda.

Rhonda left to use the ladies room. Bob watched her walk away from the table on her super high stiletto heels. He stared at her ass, tightly covered by the skin tight form-fitting black leather pants, sway sexily as she walked. Bob saw Rhonda stop by the bar, say something to their waitress.

The waitress brought a fresh round of drinks and laid a portable phone on the table.

Bob watched Rhonda return to their table. Even though she had caused him the most excruciating pain he'd ever felt, Bob was still fascinated by Rhonda.

Rhonda took a long black cigarette from her case. Bob lit the cigarette. Bob watched Rhonda smoke the cigarette, listened to her every word.

The waitress came with the check. Rhonda told Bob to pay the waitress now since Jenna was finished for the evening. Bob gave his credit card to the waitress, who took it back to the bar. When the waitress returned, Bob added a small tip and slid the credit card receipt across the table toward the waitress.

Rhonda's long fingernails intercepted the receipt. Looking at the tip, Rhonda stared coldly at Bob.

"Want to try again?"
Rhonda took a drag on her cigarette, inhaled. As she exhaled the cigarette smoke, Rhonda looked at Jenna.
"Do you have a roommate?"
Jenna shook her head.
"No. I just moved into my apartment and I'm still looking for someone to share expenses."
Rhonda looked back at Bob.
"Perfect! That settles it. You have one more chance to give Jenna a proper tip. If I still think you've insulted her, Jenna and I will take you back to her place for a lesson in proper tipping!"
Rhonda offered Jenna a long black cigarette.
"Jenna, you're the injured party. Do you think one burn with a cigarette for each dollar he's short would be an appropriate punishment for insulting you?"
Lighting the long kinky black cigarette, Jenna smiled at Rhonda as she inhaled. Exhaling the smoke, Jenna smiled at Rhonda.
"Can I pick the number?"
Taking a drag on her own cigarette, Rhonda responded.
"That would certainly be fair. But I think your number would be somewhere in the thousands, maybe even the millions. Better give Bob some chance to stay within his credit limit. We'll give him a small chance to avoid the punishment. I know he'd like another close encounter with these long black cigarettes. Maybe he'll make your day and give you another small tip.
Bob was trembling, staring at the table, afraid to look up at the waitress, too embarrassed to look at Rhonda.
"Please, Rhonda. Please tell me how much to give her."
Rhonda smiled at Jenna, then turned toward Bob.
"You'd better think big. Jenna wins either way. I think Jenna would rather burn you with cigarettes than get a tip."
Rhonda dragged on her cigarette, inhaled. As she exhaled the cigarette smoke,
"To be fair to both of you, write down your new tip and pass the receipt to Jenna. Then I'll tell you what I think is a fair tip for all the pleasure Jenna has brought you tonight."
Rhonda took a drag on her cigarette. As she inhaled, Rhonda smiled as she watched the look of anguish on Bob's face. Exhaling the cigarette smoke into Bob's face, she turned to look at Jenna, saw Jenna intently studying the glowing tip of her cigarette. Rhonda saw the look of anxious anticipation on Jenna's face. Jenna looked like she'd just placed a bet at the roulette wheel, was waiting for her number to win. Rhonda watched Jenna take a long slow drag on the black cigarette, inhale the smoke deep into her lungs, and exhale. Rhonda was sure Jenna was wet.

Bob crossed out the small tip, wrote in three hundred dollars on the receipt and passed the paper back to the waitress.

Rhonda dragged on her cigarette, inhaled as she watched Jenna stare at the piece of paper. Jenna didn't look happy. Exhaling the smoke from her cigarette, Rhonda asked Jenna if the tip was more than a hundred dollars.

Jenna looked at the credit card receipt.

"Damn! What a time to be so fucking generous."
Jenna lifted the cigarette to her lips, took a drag on the long black cigarette, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs. Exhaling the cigarette smoke into Bob's face, Jenna turned toward Rhonda.
"Could we make it two out of three?"
Rhonda told Bob to stay and finish his drink. She would call him sometime within the next thirty minutes on the portable phone. He had better answer on the first ring.

Bob sat, sipping his drink, as he wondered if Rhonda would have really taken him back to Jenna's apartment for another torture session. 'Rhonda's kinky enough. Would she share him with another woman?' He didn't even know what Jenna looked like. He'd been afraid to look. Bob noticed Rhonda's drink still sitting on the table. Her glass was coated with her lipstick. Bob lifted her glass, smelled Rhonda's lipstick. As Bob waited for Rhonda's call, he licked Rhonda's lipstick from her glass, tasted it.

Rhonda called five minutes later. She told Bob they would have dinner next week. Rhonda would call him. Despite the excruciating pain Rhonda had inflicted, Bob was elated.

Rhonda called Bob Monday evening. She told Bob they were having dinner Tuesday night at six thirty pm. She gave him the name of the restaurant, told him to take a bus from work. She would drive him home.

During dinner, Rhonda told him she had a surprise. After dinner, she drove them back to his place. Her surprise was a video. Bob brought a chilled bottle of white wine and two glasses from the kitchen.

Rhonda ordered Bob to undress. They curled up on his couch, Bob naked, Rhonda still dressed in her leathers and heels. Five minutes into the video, Rhonda pressed the stop button. She told Bob he was never to discuss, describe, or mention the video to anyone, not his closest friend, no one, not even someone who was into the scene. Bob said he understood. He would never say anything to anyone.

Rhonda told Bob she had friends who could be very unpleasant. Even if something happened to Rhonda, even if Bob moved away, even if Bob tried to hide, her friends would find him. Bob would not enjoy a visit from Rhonda's friends. Bob said he understood.

They watched the video. It was the heaviest S&M video Bob had ever seen. He asked her to let him make a copy. She told him that her source didn't allow copies. He asked her how to contact the source. Rhonda couldn't tell him until she knew him better; her source was very cautious. She told Bob to be patient.

Rhonda removed her black leather skirt. She told Bob to show his appreciation. While Rhonda watched the video a second time, Bob knelt on the floor, his head grasped tightly between her thighs, his mouth and tongue in her vagina. Even with her thighs pressed against his ears, Bob could hear the man's screams coming from the TV.

Weeks later, Bob met Rhonda for drinks. Again she told him to take a bus from work, she would drive him home. Rhonda surprised him with another video. She cautioned him again. Bob was to tell no one about her videos. Rhonda again mentioned her unpleasant friends. Bob swore he would never say anything to anyone.

They watched the video in his den. Rhonda wore a black leather garter belt, black leather bra, fishnet stockings, and ultra-high stiletto heeled shoes. Bob was naked, his wrists hand-cuffed behind his back, steel cuffs on his ankles. Rhonda had snapped a leather harness around Bob's cock and balls, shoved a four inch butt plug up his ass.

They watched the viciously hardcore S&M video. Bob sat beside Rhonda, his mouth an ashtray for her kinky black cigarettes. Then Rhonda watched the video a second time, smoking cigarettes, while Bob knelt on the floor, his tongue servicing her vagina.

After experiencing several multiple orgasms during the two hour video, Rhonda asked Bob if he'd like to see another video. Bob was still on his knees, on the floor. Bob looked up at Rhonda, said he'd love to see another video. Rhonda asked if Bob was willing to pay to see the next video. Bob offered to get his wallet. Rhonda told Bob that she didn't mean money. She had found this fantastic razor strop last weekend at a flea market. It looked authentic, was in excellent condition. She wanted to try it out on someone's ass. Would Bob like to volunteer.

After the scene in the car, Bob had his doubts. He was genuinely afraid of her.

"I don't know, Rhonda. You were pretty severe that night you punished me. The burns still haven't completely healed."
Rhonda's mood seemed to change immediately. She was no longer friendly. Even her voice, her tone, had changed. Rhonda's eyes had darkened.
"Of course. You don't have to do me this little favor. I just thought you enjoyed the videos and would like to see more. It's getting late. I'll give you a call sometime; see if you've changed your mind."
Rhonda pressed her stiletto heel into Bob's chest, pushed him away.

As Rhonda rose from the couch, Bob was overcome with remorse. He had fucked up bad; Bob could see it in Rhonda's eyes. He had to get back on Rhonda's good side. He'd never see videos like these again if he lost Rhonda. Bob was suddenly more afraid of losing Rhonda than the pain she might cause him. Bob feared never seeing another vicious hardcore S&M video. Right now, Rhonda was his only connection to the source. Bob would do anything to see more of Rhonda's videos, get introduced to her supplier.

"I'm sorry, Rhonda. Of course you can try your new razor strop on me. I was thoughtless, didn't realize how much this meant to you."
Rhonda's eyes softened a little.
"Move the couch into the center of the room! I want the back of the couch at least eight feet from the wall. Make sure the couch faces the TV. I'll get my bag."
Rhonda went out to Bob's attached two-car garage, where she had parked her Jaguar. Bob struggled with the couch. His wrists were still hand-cuffed behind his back. The leg-cuffs on his ankles made movement awkward.

Rhonda returned with a long black leather sports bag.

"Bend over the back of the couch, in the center. Pull your body up over the couch as far as you can. I want your ass pointing toward the ceiling. More!"
Bob bent over the low backed couch, his ass the highest point of his body.
"Now spread your legs as far as they'll go."
Bob could only spread his ankles about sixteen inches because of the chain on the leg-cuffs.

Rhonda removed ropes from the bag. She quickly tied each of Bob's ankles to the back corner legs of the couch. The ropes and steel cuffs pulled Bob's ankles in opposite directions, prevented any leg movement. She tied another rope from the leg-cuff chain to the couch's back center leg.

Rhonda took tit clamps from the bag and snapped one on each of Bob's nipples. Then Rhonda tied a rope around each of Bob's elbows and tied the loose ends to the couch's front corner legs. The ropes on his elbows had been pulled tight so that Bob's elbows were spread out and down towards the front outside corners of the couch. The elbow bondage also lifted Bob's hand-cuffed wrists up behind his back and away from his ass. She tied a rope to the chain connecting the tit clamps. Rhonda pulled the other end of the rope down to the couch's front center leg. She pulled on the rope until there wasn't a bit of slack, then tied the rope to the center leg. Bob's nipples were pulled away from his chest, stretched painfully down toward the floor, forcing him to remain bent over the couch or put even more stress on his painfully stretched nipples.

Rhonda reached into her sports bag and removed a well oiled authentic razor strop.

"Lift your head!"
She stood in front of Bob, letting him watch her flex and twist the razor strop. Finally, Rhonda laid the strop on the floor so Bob could study it.
"You can admire the razor strop while I freshen up. Imagine how good it will feel when the leather touches your ass!"
Rhonda applied a heavy coat of fresh lipstick. She lit one of her six and a half inch long black cigarettes and returned to the couch. Rhonda took a drag, inhaled. Exhaling the cigarette smoke toward the back of Bob's head, she picked up the razor strop.
"Time to pay for your next video, Bobbie!"
Rhonda walked behind the couch, measured the distance, and brought the razor strop down hard on Bob's ass. As she took a drag on her cigarette, Rhonda studied the mark left by the first stoke. Inhaling, she brought the razor strap down on Bob's ass, covering the first mark with a viciously hard second stroke. She lifted the strop high above her head. Exhaling the cigarette smoke, Rhonda swiftly brought the razor strop down on Bob's ass again. Bob wailed. He couldn't believe the razor strop could hurt so much after only three stokes.

Rhonda stopped for a moment, took a drag on her long black cigarette. Inhaling the cigarette smoke deep into her lungs, Rhonda studied the mark left by the first three strokes. As she exhaled the smoke, Rhonda laid the razor strop along the mark. The mark was less than an eighth of an inch wider than the razor strop.

Rhonda took another drag on her cigarette as she raised the strop high over her head. As she inhaled, Rhonda brought the strop down hard and fast. The strop hit Bob's ass on the same spot as before. Bob screamed from the intense pain. Rhonda raised the strop as she exhaled the cigarette smoke.

For the next half hour, Rhonda viciously beat Bob's ass with the razor strop. After the fifteenth stroke, Bob screamed almost constantly. He was in tears by the thirtieth stroke. Rhonda didn't count the strokes; she just kept raising the razor strop high over her head, kept bringing the razor strop down hard and fast on Bob's ass. Bob had tried to silently count the strokes, but had lost count when his screams and the pain and the fire in his ass were all he could think about. Twice, Rhonda paused long enough to light fresh cigarettes. When she was finished beating Bob, Rhonda laid the strop on his ass, along the single long red mark she had made. She could only see a quarter inch wide mark under the razor strop.

Rhonda freshened her lipstick, lit a fresh ultra-long kinky black cigarette. She stood there as she took a long drag, inhaled, then exhaled. She studied Bob's ass as she smoked her long cigarette.

"How was it, Bobbie? Do you like my new toy? Did you like the way it felt on your ass? I think that's enough stokes to test the razor strop. Now I'm going to beat the shit out of your ass ... for refusing to do me that small favor. You're going to really love the next hour or two."
Rhonda took a drag on her black cigarette. As she inhaled, Rhonda swung the strap high over her head and brought it crashing down on Bob's ass. She had selected a new spot on Bob's ass. Exhaling the cigarette smoke from her lungs, Rhonda studied Bob's ass. As she took a drag on her cigarette, she lifted the razor strop high over her head. She inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs. As she exhaled the cigarette smoke, she brought the strop down swiftly on Bob's ass, again hitting the new spot. Stopping only to light a fresh cigarette, Rhonda beat Bob's ass until it was bloody. Bob was screaming by the fourth stroke.

After what seemed an eternity to Bob, Rhonda paused to light a long black cigarette.

"Ever heard of walking the strap, Bobbie? It's really delicious. Very slowly, I shorten the distance from my arm to your ass, stroke by stroke. That way, the end of the strap, the part that does the most damage, gives the most pain, falls on your already tender ass. I've perfected the technique. I can move the strap down the mark on your ass quickly or slowly. I can walk the strap down one inch of ass in two or three strokes ... or I can do it in a hundred strokes. Because you refused the first time I asked you to volunteer, I think you need to be taught a lesson. So I'm going to walk the strap very slowly. Enjoy! I don't do this for everyone ... only little boys who piss me off!"
Rhonda took a drag on her cigarette and began walking the strap. As she inhaled, she lifted the strap high over her head and brought the strap down viciously on Bob's ass, crossing the first two stripes. She took over an hour to walk the strap from the far side of Bob's right cheek to the center of Bob's left cheek. The strokes averaged every five or six seconds, over five hundred stokes in all. Rhonda only paused to light fresh cigarettes. From the first stroke, Bob never stopped screaming ... although Rhonda hardly heard his screams after Bob lost his voice, less than ten minutes into the beating.

Rhonda carried her razor strop around to the front of the couch, sat down on one side of the couch beside Bob, took a sip of wine, freshened her lipstick, lit a black ultra-long cigarette, and pressed the play button on the remote.

"Lift your head and watch the movie, Bobbie. You've paid your admission ... and learned a valuable lesson."
For two hours, Bob watched the video while bent uncomfortably over the couch. He had to keep lifting and lowering his head to watch the TV. The strain in his neck was soon very painful. Lifting his head also stretched his nipples painfully. Bob thought of asking Rhonda to release him, but feared she would use his complaining as an excuse to beat him some more with the dreadful razor strop. Or Rhonda might decide to burn him with her evil black cigarettes. Bob suffered in silence, tried to watch the video.

The second video was a continuation of the first. It featured the same victim, the same two sadistic women, and the same basement dungeon. But as Bob strained to watch the video, the action became more and more vicious. The two women began to cut the victim with knives, slice into his flesh. Bob thought this went way beyond sadism. He watched closely, strained his neck painfully, tried to detect how they were faking the video. After ninety minutes, Bob was positive the two women weren't faking. They were really cutting the poor victim, slicing off flesh from his body. Finally, Bob watched the two women slice off the victims tongue, nipples, fingers, toes. Bob watched the poor man bleed to death, watched him die. Bob was stunned. Bob knew he had seen his first snuff video.

While Bob strained to watch, Rhonda relaxed on one end of the couch, watching the intense video as she smoked her six and a half inch long black Nat Sherman  cigarettes.

When the video was over, Rhonda pressed the rewind button. Then she released Bob from the ropes. Rhonda left the steel handcuffs and leg-cuffs on Bob's wrists and ankles.

Rhonda allowed Bob back on the couch to watch the second video in comfort. After applying fresh lipstick, she lit a long black cigarette and pressed the play button.

When the vicious two hour video was over, Rhonda ordered Bob to stand with his back to the couch. While the video rewound, Rhonda positioned Bob so he was bent over backwards, his feet flat on the floor, knees bent, his lower legs supporting his rigidly horizontal body. Bob's shoulders and the back of his head rested on the couch. Bob's wrists, still hand-cuffed behind his back, dangled toward the floor. Rhonda fastened a short chain between Bob's leg-cuffs and handcuffs.

Rhonda sat on his face, her anus over Bob's mouth. Rhonda applied fresh lipstick, lit one of her long black cigarettes and pressed the play button. Bob was repulsed by Rhonda's latest act of perversion, but he began to lightly lick the crevice between her ass cheeks. Rhonda ordered him to push his tongue into her anus, past her sphincter, deep into her ass-hole. Displeased with Bob's lack of enthusiasm, Rhonda pressed her cigarette into his nipple until Bob's performance was more satisfactory. For two hours, Bob licked, kissed, and sucked the moist area between Rhonda's ass cheeks. Bob licked Rhonda's ass-hole, stroked Rhonda's anus with his tongue, pushed his tongue as deep into Rhonda's shit tube as his tongue would go. Bob drew circles in her sphincter with his tongue, used his tongue like a cock, stroking back and forth, in and out of her anus. Rhonda smoked cigarette after cigarette. Between drags, she held her cigarette close to Bob's nipple so he would feel the heat. Whenever Bob's tongue stopped to rest or Rhonda wasn't completely satisfied with his performance, she pressed the red hot tip of her cigarette into his nipple until his performance improved.

Bob felt Rhonda shudder violently with intense orgasms at least a half dozen times during the video. After each orgasm, Rhonda slipped back until her cunt was over his mouth. She pressed her evil black cigarette into Bob's chest until he had licked the thick cum from her pussy lips. Then she slipped forward for more anal worship.

Bob asked again if he could make copies of the videos or meet the supplier. Rhonda told him to be patient. She must be absolutely sure before she recommended him to her supplier. Her source would cut her off if Rhonda made a mistake and recommended the wrong person.

It took almost seven weeks, and countless tubes of NeoSporin, for the burns to completely heal and disappear. Bob was reminded of his transgression, and the resulting punishment, every time he looked at his arm. Bob had drinks and dinner with Rhonda several more times while the burns were healing. Each time Rhonda smoked one of her ultra-long black cigarettes, Bob remembered the punishment, vowed to keep his eyes on Rhonda.

Despite Bob's fear of Rhonda, he made himself available whenever she called. He'd drop everything, break dates, to be at her disposal. He had no way to contact her; he didn't know her phone number, didn't know her address, didn't know where she worked.

After several months, Rhonda invited Bob to spend a weekend at her place. They met at a bar after work. After a few drinks, they walked to her car. She hand-cuffed him, placed blackened wraparound sunglasses over his eyes, covered his ears with headphones. Rhonda drove to her place. Bob was suddenly afraid, terrified of what she might do to him. As Rhonda had instructed, Bob had taken a bus to the bar. No one knew where he had gone, who he was with. No one would even miss him until Monday. There was nothing in his apartment with Rhonda's address or phone number. Bob didn't even have a picture of her. After all these months, Rhonda was still a mystery. Bob knew Rhonda drove a black Jaguar, but had never seen the license plate. Bob had done whatever Rhonda wanted, because he was obsessed with her videos. He would submit to her perverted and sadistic desires until she introduced him to her supplier.

For two days and nights, Rhonda introduced Bob to SadoMasochism beyond his wildest imagination. She began with a film festival of hardcore S&M videos.

Before each video, Bob paid for his admission with his hide. She beat him for almost an hour with her razor strop before he was allowed to watch the first video. Bob found out that Rhonda was ambidextrous. For the first half hour, she stood behind him on his left and used her right hand to beat his ass with her razor strop. For the second half hour, Rhonda stood on Bob's right side and used her left hand to beat his ass. Bob couldn't feel any difference in the intensity of either beating. Rhonda was one of those lucky individuals who was equally good with either hand. As before, Rhonda concentrated on one spot on Bob's ass. Actually, there were two long angry red marks which crossed, one from the left, one from the right. Rhonda was proud of her control, proud that she could hit almost the exact same spot, stroke after stroke, no matter how many strokes she gave, no matter how long the beating lasted. When she was finished, Bob's ass had two wide bloody purple, black, blue, red, green stripes which crossed at the center of his butt.

For the second video, Rhonda introduced Bob to her leather tawse.

For thirty minutes, she beat his ass with the tawse. After five minutes, Rhonda would switch hands, alternating from his right side to his left side. When Rhonda was finished, Bob had two more bloody black, blue and purple stripes.

After each beating, Rhonda would watch the video twice, once with Bob, a second time with Bob's mouth and tongue worshipping her vagina, anus, or feet. Bob couldn't believe that vicious S&M videos like these actually existed. Rhonda's supply of hardcore S&M videos seemed to be endless. Bob stared at the screen, trying to detect evidence that the videos were faked. The more Bob concentrated on each video, the more positive he became that the videos were absolutely real. He again asked Rhonda how he could acquire his own copies. Rhonda replied that the producer was very careful. Rhonda had to be very cautious, be very certain before she sponsored someone. Bob would have to wait until she knew him much better.

Exhausted after hours and hours of videos, Rhonda finally took Bob to her bedroom early Saturday morning. The sun was just coming up. Rhonda hand-cuffed Bob to her four-poster bed and squatted over his face while he serviced her vagina one last time.

Rhonda woke Bob early Saturday afternoon. Rhonda was already dressed in a black leather bra and ultra-high stiletto-heeled shoes. She had done her hair and applied her make-up. Rhonda unfastened the cuffs, told him to shave and shower. He was only allowed cold water. She was waiting when Bob finished his shower. Rhonda cuffed Bob's wrists behind his back with the steel handcuffs. Then she fastened the leg-cuffs to his ankles.

Rhonda began Bob's introduction to real sadistic perversion. For the remainder of the afternoon, Bob worshipped every hole, every crevice in her body, again and again, until his mouth and tongue were sore, raw from the constant friction. While Bob orally serviced her, Rhonda smoked her long black cigarettes. Whenever Rhonda thought Bob's performance needed a little incentive, she held the glowing tip of her cigarette to his flesh. Instantly, Bob's enthusiasm would improve.

Saturday evening, Rhonda took Bob down to her basement dungeon. She tied Bob over a -shaped bondage frame. Once she had him at her mercy, Rhonda beat him with a variety of straps, whips, paddles, and canes. Rhonda's collection of punishment instruments was extensive. While Rhonda beat Bob's back, ass, and thighs, she smoked her long black cigarettes. When Bob asked for a glass of water, Rhonda spit into his mouth.

Later that night, Rhonda brought Bob back upstairs. She ordered Bob to take a cold shower, then join her in the viewing room for more hardcore S&M videos. Rhonda told Bob his admission for tonight's videos was already paid.

Again, Rhonda watched each video twice. Once with Bob cuddled beside her, once with Bob's head between her thighs, worshipping her vagina. They retired to the bedroom about four in the morning.

Rhonda woke Bob late Sunday morning. After his cold water shave and shower, Bob joined Rhonda in the kitchen. Rhonda fastened his wrists behind his back with the steel handcuffs and fastened the steel leg-cuffs to his ankles. Exhaling cigarette smoke into Bob's face, Rhonda told Bob that his breakfast was on the floor. Rhonda forced Bob to eat and drink from dog dishes, kneeling on the floor like an animal, using only his tongue.

Relaxing with a cup of coffee spiked with liqueur, Rhonda ordered Bob to kneel beside her like a puppy. While Rhonda smoked her long black cigarettes and enjoyed her morning coffee, she used Bob's mouth for an ashtray, burned his chest and thighs with her evil ultra-long black cigarettes.

Rhonda made Bob scrub her kitchen floor that afternoon. Bob scrubbed her floor on his knees, pencils fastened under his knees with rubber bands, a small brush between his teeth, his hands cuffed behind his back. To add to Bob's discomfort, Rhonda buckled a ball harness lined with sharp points tightly around his testicles. Then Rhonda attached two four pound weights to the harness and dropped the weights between Bob's spread legs.

While Bob scrubbed her floor, Rhonda stood over him in her ultra-high stiletto-heeled boots, smoking a black cigarette, whipping him with a martinet. She flicked cigarette ashes onto the floor, accused Bob of missing a spot, ordered him to crawl back and do a better job. Bob licked up the ashes while Rhonda beat him mercilessly with her martinet. When Rhonda finished a cigarette, she lifted his head, told Bob to open his mouth, put the cigarette out on his tongue. After extinguishing her third cigarette on Bob's tongue, Rhonda stood over him, lit a fresh cigarette, and told Bob to chew and swallow the cigarette butt. When he hesitated, Rhonda pressed her stiletto heel into the back of Bob's neck and pressed her cigarette into Bob's shoulder until the cigarette butt disappeared down his throat.

After Bob finished her kitchen floor, Rhonda used her martinet to guide him to her bathroom. Bob crawled on his knees, his wrists still cuffed behind his back, the pencils still digging painfully into his knees.

Rhonda made him clean her filthy toilet with his tongue, his hands cuffed behind his back. She had just used the toilet and had not flushed. The water was yellow with piss. Shit lay in the bottom of the bowl. Bob tried to flush the toilet. Rhonda grabbed his wrist and drilled her long black cigarette into the back of his hand. She ordered Bob to get his head in the bowl and clean up the mess. Bob licked the porcelain toilet bowl, scrubbed it clean with his tongue, drank the piss saturated water, swallowed the shit, while Rhonda viciously burned his ass with her evil black cigarette. When Rhonda finished a cigarette, she dropped it into the toilet bowl, the hot ash often grazing Bob's face as the black cigarette butt went past his head. The black cigarette butts joined Rhonda's piss and shit in Bob's stomach. When Bob retched, Rhonda grabbed his penis, pulled it back between his legs, and held her cigarette to the end of his dick until Bob licked up his own vomit and swallowed it.

After Bob had cleaned Rhonda's kitchen and bathroom, the S&M film festival continued. Rhonda introduced Bob to more snuff videos from her extensive video library. Again, Rhonda would watch each video twice. Bob would sit beside her the first time. Bob's tongue would worship Rhonda's love nest, anus, or feet the second time.

Bob thought the abuse, humiliation, beatings, cigarette burns, and torture were more than he could endure. But he had no choice. Bob would put up with Rhonda's sadistic perversions until she introduced him to her source. Bob just hoped he survived Rhonda's sadistic abuse long enough to get his own copies.

Months passed. Bob thought of the time spent with Rhonda as an investment. There were more dinners, more depraved weekends at her place, more body worship, more pain and humiliation, more toilet service. But Bob was willing to pay the price, submit to her perverted, sadistic whims. During those depraved weekends, Rhonda let him watch more of her hardcore S&M videos and more of her snuff videos. Bob enjoyed watching the male victims slowly and systematically tortured to death. Her collection seemed endless. Each time he saw Rhonda, Bob begged her to introduce him to the supplier. Finally, months later, Rhonda agreed to sponsor him.

Bob waited. Weeks passed. Eventually, he got a call, late at night. It was a woman's voice. He was to accumulate four thousand dollars in cash within the next two weeks. No large withdrawals. Nothing smaller than a twenty. He would be contacted again.

Three weeks later, Bob got a call around eleven pm. It was the same woman's voice. Bob was to drive to a pay phone. She gave the location. He had thirty minutes. Bring the money. Don't be late.

He arrived just in time. The phone rang just as he reached it. He recognized the woman's voice. Meet her at a small bar in five minutes. She gave the location. Don't be late.

Bob arrived as instructed. He was the only guy in the place. From the icy stares he received from the female customers, he guessed he was in a dyke bar. The woman behind the bar asked his name, directed him to a dark booth in the far corner. Three women were waiting for him. The one in the middle appeared to be in her late thirties, very good looking. He recognized her voice as the one who had called. She was flanked by two tough, mean looking women. Both were smoking long brown cigarettes. Bob was sure they were dykes.

The woman in the middle took a long white Virginia Slim 120mm cigarette from a pack on the table. Bob lit her cigarette. As she smoked, she told him the rules. Bob would be contacted when a set of videos was ready. The videos were very expensive. The cost depended on how many tapes were in a set. He must accumulate the money slowly, no large withdrawals from his bank. He was to have the money when the videos were delivered; no checks, no credit cards, no IOU's. Cash only.

He could not sell, trade, loan, or barter the videos. He could not dispose of the videos. The videos must remain in his possession at all times. No exceptions. He could not copy the videos. No exceptions. If a video became damaged, the company would exchange it for a new copy free of charge. The company would buy the videos back, for the full purchase price, if he no longer wanted them. No questions asked. If he was unhappy with the quality, content or intensity of the videos, the company would take back the videos and give him a full refund. He was responsible for anyone who saw the videos. He should think of himself as that person's guarantor. The company did not tolerate mistakes. The company did not accept excuses. The other two women, the two bodyguards, hadn't said a word. Bob agreed to the woman's terms, signed a contract.

The attractive woman in the middle asked if he had the money. Bob removed a large envelope from inside his coat. The woman on the right took the envelope. She looked inside, but didn't count it. The woman on the left passed a package across the table to Bob.

Bob got out of his seat and walked toward the door. As he passed the bar, one of the customers blocked his path. The woman was older, hard looking. She wore a black leather cap, black leather motor cycle jacket, black leather pants, and black boots. Bob thought she looked like a biker. The biker blew a puff of smoke in Bob's face and asked if he'd like to join her and her girlfriend. Her girlfriend thought he was cute, wanted to take him downstairs and play with him. Bob looked over at the biker's leather-clad friend sitting at the bar. She was holding up a pair of steel handcuffs. She held something in her other hand. As Bob looked at the biker's friend, he saw electrical arcing dance across whatever she was holding. 'Christ! She has a stun gun' Bob realized. Bob managed to sidestep the woman blocking his path and run to the door. He was terrified. As Bob went through the door, he was humiliated by the loud laughter coming from behind him. Bob ran to his car, got in, locked the doors, turned the ignition, and drove off. He didn't stop trembling until his car was five miles from the bar.

When the terror had finally subsided, Bob began thinking of the videos. He was elated. After almost of year of waiting, Bob finally had his own videos. He couldn't wait to get home and watch them.

The first set were snuff videos. The set of four cassettes covered one session. The videos were very expensive, but Bob thought they were worth every penny. He would buy a set each time they were offered. Bob knew his salary wouldn't be enough. He was glad he had accumulated some savings. The trust fund he'd received when his parents passed away would be a big help.

Bob couldn't believe the intensity of these videos. The suppliers must be really evil to make videos like these. Rhonda had warned him not to cross them. Bob was not afraid, though. He would always be able to find enough cash to buy the videos when they were available. Bob would sacrifice anything to make sure that his supply was maintained.

There was a muffled, animal like grunt and a gasp. The young man on the screen slumped. He was dead. The professionally produced and edited video had shown the young victim's demise in a set of four three hour tapes. In fact the video had been shot over a three day period.

Bob was exhausted. He had watched the calculated destruction of a human being over a twelve hour period. The only break was to change cassettes. During that time, Bob had masturbated himself to a seemingly impossible number of orgasms. Still, his rampant penis refused to soften.

Watching the torturers on the screen frolic with the mutilated corpse, Bob once again moaned softly. Semen now oozed from his manhood. Bob could not ejaculate fully, he was drained. He fell asleep and dreamed of the exquisite sights he had just experienced.

When Bob awoke, his erection had returned in full splendor. Without further ado, he quickly rewound the four tapes. Bob intended to watch them all again.

He showered while the microwave warmed up last night's dinner. Bob had not found time to eat. After dabbing himself down with the towel, Bob ate, quickly, the meal accompanied by two cups of coffee. All of that masturbation had made him hungry.

His stomach sated, Bob carried the coffee pot into his den. Still naked, he inserted the first tape of the set. It was time to watch the session all over again.

Bob relaxed, lying on the floor. He rested his back on a low sofa. This way he could enjoy the visual pleasures to be enacted on his giant projection television screen. In addition, Bob had the superb quality of stereophonic sound produced from four large speaker cabinets. The location of the speakers really made Bob feel that he was in the middle of the whole affair.

The victim appeared on the screen. He was naked, sporting close to a full erection. He smiled at the camera as he was introduced. The victim's name was Eddie Grant. Eddie thought that he was about to star in a pornographic movie.

The look of horror which slowly replaced the arrogant smile delighted Bob. The real star of the movie was the big Amazon who was explaining that this would be the latest in a series. When Eddie heard that he was to be tortured and murdered for the pleasure of their elite group of customers, his eyes sought escape.

Too late! Eddie was grabbed by two more women, both naked except for high spiked-heeled boots. They dragged him screaming to a table and roughly pushed him onto it. Expertly and quickly the two women clamped the crying and struggling Eddie to the table. The clamps were secured around Eddie's wrists, ankles and neck with screws. The show was about to begin.

Bob wondered where they had found the three Amazons cast as the torturers. Each woman must have been well over six feet tall, judging by the way they towered over their victim. They weren't exactly ugly, but they sure wouldn't win any beauty contests. Obviously bodybuilders, each one had rippling muscles which would have looked good on a man, but Bob thought the muscles looked grotesque on these women.

To emphasize their obvious dyke look, each woman wore her hair short. The one who had appeared first and who was obviously in charge wore her short blonde hair styled in a severe DA, or duck's ass as it was called back in the fifties and sixties. Bob wondered if this dyke and Rhonda had the same hairdresser. Bob thought Rhonda's DA hairstyle looked better.

The second woman's platinum blonde hair had been clipped very short except for a butch fringe that stood straight up and circled the top of her head. A one inch wide, long thick patch of hair continued down the back of her head to her neck.

The third woman, a brunette, had shaved her head except for a two inch wide black mohawk that ran down the center of her head, from the front all the way down to her neck.

Each woman had outlined her eyes with heavy black liquid eyeliner and each wore heavy deep red lipstick. Man, they looked evil! Bob sure wasn't going to ask any of them for a date. And he certainly didn't want to meet these dykes in a dark alley or anywhere else. Bob thought he even had a name to describe these Amazons. BUD's. Yeah, that's it. BUD's -- Big Ugly Dykes.

To soften up their victim, the three torturers casually laid into Eddie with thick, wide, studded leather belts. Eddie screamed and cursed. His struggles for escape highlighted Eddie's taut, muscular body. For almost thirty minutes, the three big Amazons had viciously beaten their victim with the smooth leather sides of their belts. Then each woman turned her belt over and continued the brutal assault with the studded side. After another twenty minutes, the women wrapped the studded leather belts around their fists until the buckles hung from two feet of leather. Each women began working on Eddie with the heavy metal buckles. The sobbing victim became decorated with the marks of the leather belts, the studs, the buckles, but the vicious dykes showed no mercy. Each Amazon tried to outdo her two companions, each trying to hit harder than the others. Eddie's defiant demands had changed to childlike pleas.

While the chief torturer paused for a cigarillo and the platinum blonde lit a ultra-long brown cigarette, the torturer with the mohawk set to work with large fish hooks. She threaded the barbed hooks through Eddie's nipples, tongue, scrotum and penis. Then she attached lines to the hooks and tied the lines to ropes hanging over the torture table.

The ropes were adjusted, tightened. Finished for the moment, the brunette with the mohawk lit a long brown cigarette and joined her companions. The three torturers smoked their cigarillos and cigarettes as the camera recorded the scene. Bob could contain himself no more. He ejaculated at the beautiful living tapestry. The hooks were pulled away from the squirming victim's body. With his tongue grotesquely protruding, Eddie's cries were muffled.

The chief torturer took over. With a thin, very sharp knife, she cut lines across the victim's chest. The haphazard pattern extended down across Eddie's quivering belly. The concentration of the torturer was evident. Sweat dripped from her onto the moaning victim.

As if by magic, the torturer slowly peeled back parts of the victim's skin. The effect caused Bob's second orgasm of this showing. The camera panned across Eddie. The skin in the pectoral area had been peeled from the center to each side. The nipples remained intact.

The belly skin had been opened up in a diagonal pattern. Four flaps were pulled back to expose the shiny sinew and muscles underneath.

The brunette dyke with the mohawk loosened the ropes. She removed the hooks. She repositioned some of the hooks. Then she used fish hooks to hold back the abdominal skin flaps. Hooks through the victim's nipples were tied to a hook through his tongue. A fourth hook through the upper chest skin was tied to them. The lines were tightened.

Eddie's face was a picture of agony. His tear filled eyes pleaded with the camera for relief. There would be none.

The clamps were unscrewed. Eddie, his legs unable to obey his mental commands, was lifted from the table. He was half led, half carried, to a post near one wall. A steel pipe with a closed rounded end protruded from the post. It was almost two feet long.

Eddie struggled anew as he was backed against the post. The protruding pipe was positioned against his anus lips. Eddie found himself being impaled on the thick cold metal. He wailed as the smooth invader entered his hitherto virgin rectum.

His hands were lifted above his head. They were placed against the sides of the post. Eddie jerked and screamed as the torturer with the mohawk drove the first nails through his right wrist and forearm. Again he screamed as the other assistant drove nails through his left wrist and forearm. And Eddie wailed when the chief torturer spread his feet apart and drove nails through his feet into the floor.

Eddie's tongue was still pulled out and down. Fixed as it was to the upper chest skin flap and his nipples, Eddie continued to gurgle with the newly inflicted pain.

Rhonda had told Bob that the victims received regular infusions of drugs and essential nutrients during the making of the videos. These were formulated to ensure optimum performance. Rhonda had told Bob that in an earlier movie the victim had survived ten days of cruel, incessant, intense torture.

A wooden table was placed between Eddie's legs. It was exactly at genital height. Eddie couldn't help but watch as the chief torturer positioned a nail over his right testicle. With a single blow, the nail passed through the testicle into the table. A second nail secured the left gonad.

While the chief torturer was working on Eddie's testicles, the torturer with the mohawk worked on Eddie's belly skin. The hooks holding the peeled skin back were removed. New hooks were inserted, one in each flap. Lines from each hook were pulled diagonally back and tied to hooks at the side of the post.

When this was done, the platinum blonde assistant spattered a weak brine solution over the victim's exposed abdomen. The screams of agony and despair reverberated around Bob's den as his eyes remained transfixed on the giant screen. Then it was time to change cassettes.

Bob slurped a cup of coffee while the tape leader went past the playback heads. He flopped back to his comfortable reclining position just as Eddie's sobs and moans resumed. The only time that Bob's den would be silent from now until the end of the movie would be at tape changing time.

Eddie's penis was the next center of attention. Indeed, for the entire duration of the second tape the three expert torturers would do little else but slowly, carefully, deliberately prepare Eddie's magnificent manhood for destruction.

First a steel rod, about an inch in diameter, was pushed down the victim's urethra by the chief Amazon. The experienced torturers had managed to produce something approaching an erection in Eddie's reluctant penis. The rod disappeared into the length of the penis. It was seen to come to a halt, after some hard pushing.

With the same sharp skinning knife, the chief torturer began to make small incisions in the victim's semi-hard penis. The delicate filigree was very artistic. The close up shot lingered on the pattern of glistening blood while the victim's penis moved almost imperceptibly.

The removal of the skin from the softening member produced a surprising result. Eddie ejaculated. So did Bob. By the end of the second tape, Eddie's penis skin had been completely removed. The exposed surface undulated involuntarily, yet remained almost erect.

The third tape began with the exposure of the testicles. Both gonads had been nailed to the wooden table. The scrotal skin was removed, to the continuous accompaniment of the victim's musical protestations.

While the scrotum was being removed, the cameras alternated between detailed close-ups of the operation, close-ups of the young victim's agony ridden face and longer overviews of the whole scene.

After the scrotum had been removed in it's entirety, steel pins were inserted into each testicle and along the length of the skinned penis. The focus of attention now broadened. The genitals were to be allowed a brief respite.

The chief torturer paused for a smoke. As she smoked a cigarillo, she watched her assistants, working in tandem, drive more nails through Eddie's forearms and upper arms. Then the dykes nailed each finger and thumb individually to the post. Some fingers received two nails. Then the women drove nails though each toe, pounding the hammers until the nails had been driven into the floor. The bones cracked audibly as the hammers drove the nails through flesh, into wood.

Steel spikes were inserted completely through Eddie's arms and legs. When it was time to change to the final tape, Eddie's body resembled a large, bizarre pin cushion.

In the areas still covered by skin, rivulets of blood were drying to form an erotic, abstract pattern. The two day exposure to the air had somewhat conditioned the chest and abdominal muscles where the skin had been removed. They no longer glistened as they had earlier.

Bob pressed the button to start the fourth tape. For a moment he considered waiting for a while. His hands, genitals and belly were covered with dried semen. His body was awash with sweat. His breath was just returning to normal. Bob could not delay this final scene. Even though he had already witnessed it once, Bob wanted to watch the end, again.

The nails impaling Eddie's testicles were removed. The table was taken away. Eddie's semi-erection tried to stand but was weighted down with the spikes.

The chief torturer slammed her fist into the victim's skinless lower belly. The main, desired effect was to drive Eddie further onto the pipe. The thick steel went deeper into Eddie's colon. The blonde dyke leaned forward. The camera focussed on Eddie's nipples, still intact in a sea of exposed muscle and sinew.

The chief torturer licked the nipple bud. It was already erect and swelled more. The torturer's tongue played around each nipple in turn. Her teeth nipped at them. Suddenly the teeth ground down on the left nipple. In a few seconds, the big blonde grinned at the camera, the nipple in her mouth.

Blood dripped down the torturer's chin. A small indentation, blood slowly oozing from it, was all that remained of the victim's nipple. Then she ground her teeth down on the right nipple until another bloody indentation was all that remained.

The torturers worked as a team, like clockwork. Electric wires appeared with crocodile clips at the ends. The vicious women connected the clips to some of the spikes located through various parts of the victim's body. The mean dyke with the DA connected one wire to the rod buried inside Eddie's skinless penis. The vicious dyke with the blonde butch fringe connected another crocodile clip to the pipe shoved up Eddie's ass. The evil brunette attached clips to the raw exposed flesh of Eddie's penis. She snapped one clip on his frenum, on the underside of Eddie's penis, just behind the head.

The chief torturer lit a cigarillo while her sadistic assistants lit long brown cigarettes. As they smoked, they made subtle adjustments to the electrical currents flowing through Eddie's body. His muscles ignored his brain. Eddie's body jerked and twisted to the varying commands of an unseen electrical pattern generator.

The three dykes took turns playing with the controls, varying the intensity of the electrical current passing through Eddie's body.

The brunette walked up to Eddie.

"Watch the tip of my cigarette, ass-hole!"
Standing less than a foot from Eddie, the brunette dyke placed her long brown cigarette between her lips. As she dragged on her cigarette, she turned the knob to its highest setting. Eddie watched the cigarette tip glow brighter as the electricity surged through his penis, through his anus. Eddie screamed, twisted, looked away from the vicious brunette torturer.
"I told you to look at the tip of my cigarette!"
Stepping to either side of Eddie, the chief torturer and her blonde assistant grabbed Eddie's ears, puffed on their smokes until the tips were fiery red. Then each held her cigarillo or cigarette close to Eddie's face. Eddie could feel the heat from the cigarillo and cigarette as the two sadistic women held the glowing tips near his temples, next to Eddie's eyes.

Bob loved it. If Eddie turned his head in either direction, the cigarillo or cigarette would burn his face. Bob stroked his penis. 'I wonder if Rhonda's done this.'

The evil brunette took another drag on her long brown cigarette as she turned the control knob up to its highest setting. Eddie watched the cigarette's tip glow brighter, felt the excruciating pain as the electricity surged through his genitals, from his anus to his dick. Eddie screamed ... and screamed, but he kept his head still.

The platinum blonde took a turn at the controls. She lifted her cigarette to her red lips. As she dragged on the cigarette, the evil woman top twisted the controls to their highest setting. She kept the controls turned up high while she inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, kept the control on maximum intensity until she finally exhaled the cigarette smoke into Eddie's screaming mouth. The evil platinum blonde took another drag on her long brown cigarette, again turning the controls to their highest setting. As she inhaled, she smiled as Eddie screamed, twisted, shook violently. Finally, she lowered the controls as she exhaled the smoke into Eddie's face. The platinum blonde continued her evil game as she continued to smoke her cigarette. Finally, the heartless dyke came while Eddie was on his sixth set of high pitched screams.

As he twisted violently from the pain, Eddie managed to pull his feet through the nails holding them to the floor. His flexing fingers had also torn through their nails. Apart from a few shreds of tattered skin, Eddie's fingers and toes had been destroyed.

The involuntary movements had impaled Eddie further onto the steel pipe. The rounded tip now pushed against his skinned belly from the inside. Blood seeped from the victim's stuffed anus and dripped to the floor.

A thin wire rope was tied around the base of Eddie's genitals. It was connected to a pulley. The wire rope tightened. Eddie found himself being pulled forward by his sex organs. The strain on his genitals was apparent.

With a muted tearing sound, Eddie's skinned testicles and penis separated from his groin as if in slow motion. Speedy action was taken to stem blood flow. A close up of Eddie's face was a classic picture of agony, despair, disbelief.

The big blonde lit a long cigar and watched her assistants continue the torture. The vicious brunette used garden shears to sever the toes on Eddie's right foot, one joint, one toe at a time. The dyke with the platinum blonde hair used another set of garden shears to sever the toes on Eddie's left foot, again joint by joint, toe by toe, pop...pop...pop.

As the chief torturer watched her two assistants work, she smoked her long cigar, exhaling the thick smoke into the victim's face and open mouth. When she was done with the cigar, the evil blonde torturer lit another, stubbing out the old cigar's glowing red hot ember on Eddie's tongue as she savored her first drag from the fresh cigar.

"Your tongue makes such an inviting ashtray."
His tongue still hooked to his chest flap, Eddie could only moan softly as the glowing red hot tip of the cigar blistered his tongue. When her assistants were finished and all ten toes lay in pieces on the floor, the chief torturer sealed the wounds, one by one, with the red hot tip of her cigar.

Now the evil bull dykes took large hand saws and cut off Eddie's feet at the ankles. The chief torturer cauterized the wounds with a flaming torch. Next the women sawed off Eddie's lower legs just below the knees. Stopping only long enough for the wounds to be sealed, the two dykes finally cut off each of Eddie's legs just beneath the thigh. Eddie's knees dropped to the floor. The room looked like a slaughter house. What remained of Eddie's legs were quickly sealed. There was no point to sewing what was left properly. The camera continued to return to Eddie's face to record the formerly good looking young man's reactions.

The three women paused while Eddie was revived, given liquids. As the three women relaxed, the chief torturer lit a cigarillo. The two assistants each lit a ultra-long brown cigarette. While they smoked, they ran fingers in and out of their cunts, across their clits. After climaxing, the women extinguished their cigarettes and cigarillo on Eddie's tongue. As the two assistants walked back to Eddie, the blonde leader lit a long cigar and inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs. Taking another drag, she told her two sadistic assistants,

"I love watching you two work. You're both so beautiful when you inflict pain."
The two Amazons again used garden sheers, this time to remove Eddie's fingers. The two wicked dykes alternated, the brunette starting with the last joint on Eddie's pinky finger on his left hand. Then the platinum blonde cut off the last joint on Eddie's right pinky finger. Back and forth, the two torturers worked, a joint from a finger on the left hand, a joint from a finger on the right hand. When Eddie's pinkies were gone, the chief torturer cauterized the wounds with the glowing red hot tip of her cigar.

The two evil women moved to his ring fingers, again alternating from one dyke to the other, one finger to the other, joint by joint. The chief torturer sucked on her cigar until the tip was glowing. Holding the red hot tip to what was left of Eddie's ring fingers, the blonde leader cauterized the wounds.

And then the next finger on each hand was cut off, joint by joint. Again the chief torturer cauterized the wounds with the hot tip of her cigar.

Now Eddie lost his index fingers, one joint at a time. While Eddie was suffering, the chief torturer crushed out her cigar on Eddie's tongue. She lit a fresh cigar and puffed on it, getting a glowing hot tip by the time the last pieces of Eddie's index fingers fell to the floor. She used the fiery cigar tip to seal each wound.

Finally, the two pain loving sadists cut off Eddie's thumbs. Snip, snip ... snip, snip. Eddie's thumbs lay on the floor. The evil leader held the glowing end of her cigar to the bleeding thumb joints.

The two assistants, smiling, walked several feet away from Eddie, their spiked-heels clicking on the wooden floor. They were joined by their leader. The brunette picked up a pack of brown More 120's and offered one to the platinum blonde. Their leader was still enjoying her cigar. As they smoked, the three women listened to Eddie. He was still screaming, as if he didn't realize that the torture had stopped temporarily. The chief torturer told her two assistants that Eddie hadn't stopped screaming since they started on his fingers. The assistants smiled; they had been so involved in their work that they hadn't noticed.

Finished with their cigarettes, the two evil assistants ground out the glowing ends on Eddie's tongue. The sadistic brunette picked up a saw and cut off Eddie's left hand while the evil platinum blonde watched, smoking another long brown More 120mm. The brunette was unhurried, slowly sawing back and forth through the soft flesh of Eddie's wrist, then through bone, and finally through the remaining hanging flesh. The chief torturer sealed the wound with a flaming torch.

The wicked platinum blonde picked up another saw and began slicing through Eddie's right wrist while she held the long brown cigarette between her lips. She worked slowly. First she drew the saw blade back, took a drag on her cigarette, listened to Eddie's scream, waited for Eddie's scream to die. Then the platinum blonde slowly pushed the saw blade forward through Eddie's flesh, took another drag on her long brown cigarette, inhaled and exhaled while Eddie screamed. When his scream died, she pulled the saw blade back again. The sadistic blonde worked slowly, savoring every slice, every scream. Her brunette partner lit a long brown cigarette, took long deep drags, inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, exhaled the cigarette smoke into Eddie's open screaming mouth as she watched. It took twenty minutes before Eddie's hand fell to the floor. The chief torturer sealed the wound.

Next the evil women sawed off his lower arms just beneath the elbow, again one arm at a time, each woman unhurried, taking her time, cutting slowly back and forth through Eddie's tender flesh on the inside of his arm until the woman reached bone, then slowly sawing through the bone, and finally cutting through the remaining flesh until Eddie's lower arms fell to the floor.

When the wounds were sealed, the sadistic dykes used their saws on Eddie's upper arms just above the elbows, this time working in tandem, one woman drawing her saw through flesh while the other woman waited, took a drag on her long brown cigarette. Then the second woman drew her saw blade through flesh while the first woman waited, took a drag on her cigarette. Again the women took their time so that Eddie could feel each and every painful slice of the saws through his flesh, through his bones, until his elbows joined the rest of what had been his arms on the floor.

Finally, the wicked Amazons cut off what remained of Eddie's arms at the shoulder, working in tandem, again taking their time so they could savor each of Eddie's screams. The wounds were sealed. No finesse required. During the final phase of Eddie's dismemberment, the chief torturer held Eddie's body to the post as she smoked a cigarillo, blowing cigar smoke into his face, putting out the glowing red hot tip of the spent cigar on Eddie's tongue, lighting and smoking another cigarillo until her assistants were finished destroying Eddie's arms.

Pieces of arm and leg lay on the floor in a surprisingly small pool of blood. Now all of Eddie's weight was shared between the torturer and the pipe invading his guts. The torturer allowed Eddie to slip further onto the pipe.

The young victim's belly swelled obscenely from the pressure of the pipe. The chief torturer now let go of Eddie and the victim slipped right down until his back touched the post. At the very same moment, two other things happened.

The pipe forced its way through the victim's belly and the rounded tip, glistening with blood, appeared. With Eddie's center of gravity higher than the pipe, his body rotated, still impaled. Eddie was now head down.

Simultaneously with the three torturers, Bob masturbated. The dykes were in a sexual frenzy, running their fingers in and out of their pussies and running thumbs and fingers over and around their clits until juice creamed from their pussies and each women shuddered at the intensity of her multiple orgasms. After each woman came for the final time, she urinated over the hapless victim. This done, the chief torturer produced a barbed spear.

With this the blonde torturer probed inside Eddie's groin, just recently deprived of genitals. While intestines and other bloody matter was being ripped from within the still living victim, the two assistant torturers performed their final operations.

Oblivious to the bloody mess being sprayed over them, the two women knelt down level with Eddie's face. The platinum blonde torturer began to slice Eddie's tongue, still hooked to his chest flesh, into long strips. The brunette torturer impaled each eye in turn on a sharp spike. This done, the vicious brunette sliced off each of Eddie's ears.

With the victim's tongue in shreds, the evil platinum blonde torturer sliced it out from the back of Eddie's mouth. Eddie's blinded eyes were still open and saliva and bile oozed from his silently screaming mouth.

The two kneeling executioners embraced each other, kissed passionately, drove tongues into each other's mouth, took turns sucking the other's tongue.

The platinum blonde's fingers found the brunette's love nest. Her fingers stroked her lover's cunt lips, found her clit.

The brunette moved her mouth down to the platinum blonde's left nipple. The brunette's tongue licked her lover's nipple, her lips sucked the hard bud, while her left hand wrapped around the dyke's back. The brunette's fingers slowly caressed the platinum blonde's lower back, gently stroked, then continued their descent to the platinum blonde's ass cheeks. The fingers on the brunette's left hand found her lover's ass crack, the finger tips disappeared, gently stroked the moist area between the platinum blonde's cheeks. The brunette explored her lover's anus, probed the sphincter, a finger gently entered the platinum blonde's rectum.

The brunette's right hand slowly slid down the platinum blonde's stomach, gently stroked the mons. The brunette's fingers combed her lover's pubic hair. The brunette's hand found the platinum blonde's wet pussy. She stroked her lover's cunt. The brunette's fingers slid between the blonde's pussy lips, stroked the lips, ran the fingertips back and forth along the wet walls. Shaking violently, the blonde came. Her thick juice covered the brunette's fingers. The brunette continued stroking, keeping her lover in ecstasy. Suddenly, the brunette shuddered, shook violently as the two women fell over onto the floor.

The platinum blonde moved above the brunette dyke. The blonde rotated her body, her head facing the brunette's bottom, her pussy above the brunette's face. She dipped her head between the brunette's legs, gently tongued the inside of the brunette's sensitive thighs. The blonde's mouth moved back to the brunette's love nest, found the brunettes's clitoris, gently stoked the clit with her tongue, sucked the clit with her lips.

The brunette's arms wrapped around the platinum blonde's hips. Her hands drew the blonde's pussy down toward her mouth. She licked the blonde's cunt lips, found her clitoris, slowly circled the clit with her tongue.

They continued to lick each other as the chief torturer continued to rip Eddie's intestines apart, letting the shredded human matter run down on her two colleagues.

It was at this point that Eddie could no longer stand the abuse to his body. He gurgled and gasped, slumped and died. As he died, the platinum blonde and the brunette screamed as another orgasm overwhelmed them. Once again, Bob ejaculated in concert with Eddie's dying breath.

Eddie's body was removed and thrown onto the floor. There, in a mixture of blood and intestines, the three torturers cavorted around with the dead victim until each in turn had climaxed again for the cameras. And as with his first viewing, Bob, exhausted, could only ooze semen from his tired, but still rampant, penis.

Except for Rhonda, Bob stopped dating, stopped socializing. He spent every free moment watching the four video tapes now in his private library. Each night, he rushed home right after work to watch one or two tapes before going to bed. Bob spent his weekends watching the entire set of videos over and over in uninterrupted ecstasy.

Rhonda called a few weeks after he met the supplier. Now that he could obtain his own snuff videos, Bob wanted to end their relationship. Rhonda was really too sadistic. Bob was admittedly submissive and was attracted to dominant women, but Bob didn't think of himself as a masochist. Pain hurt ... and Rhonda really new how to inflict pain.

Bob feared Rhonda would go too far someday and permanently injure him ... or worse. But Bob wasn't sure how solid he was with the supplier. Could Rhonda cancel his membership by withdrawing her sponsorship? Bob couldn't risk being cutoff after waiting so long to fulfill his dreams. Bob tried to think of a way to find out if Rhonda controlled his supply of heavy S&M and snuff videos. Bob decided he would continue to see Rhonda whenever she called.

They met for dinner. Over drinks, Rhonda asked if her supplier had contacted him. Bob said he had met the supplier and had received his first set of videos. Over dinner, they discussed his new videos.

Bob really enjoyed their evening together. Having someone to talk to about the videos was great.

Stopping at the cash station was now Bob's main outside activity. Instructed not to make large withdrawals by the supplier, Bob had calculated that it would take twenty cash withdrawals of two hundred dollars each to accumulate four thousand dollars in four weeks. Bob also realized that it would be unwise to withdraw the same amount each time so he varied the amounts. To prevent a particular bank from noticing a pattern to Bob's new cash needs, he sold some investments and opened new accounts at several different banks. The investment proceeds also gave Bob a chance to accumulate a cash reserve of a few thousand dollars just in case the next set contained more than four tapes.

The telephone call a month later renewed Bob's excitement. A new set of videos was ready. This transaction would take place at Bob's place. He was to have six thousand dollars in cash available at eleven thirty pm on the following Friday. Even though Bob had watched his first snuff movie almost every day of that month, it still aroused him. The anticipation of new terminal action amplified this emotion.

At exactly the appointed hour Bob's doorbell rang. He opened it eagerly. The two women standing in his doorway were the same mean looking bodyguards he had met at the first meeting, the one at the dyke bar. Bob shuddered as he felt the aura of evil about them. Bob wondered what a bull-dyke looked like; because Bob couldn't think of a better term to describe them. Both women had short hair, styled real butch. Now that Bob saw them standing, he noticed that each woman was huge. Bob stood there, looking up at both of them. One was way over six feet and big. She wasn't fat; she was just big! The other woman was a bit shorter, maybe just under six feet and wide. Not fat, wide. Bob pictured her playing middle linebacker or nose guard for some professional football team. Maybe the Chicago Bears since she looked like a big ugly bear. The taller woman held out the six tapes. Bob's hand shook as he placed the cash in the other dyke's outstretched hand. The woman's long thick fingers flipped through the notes.

Bob told the big ugly bear,

"It's all there. You can count it if you'd like."
The bear stepped up close, almost standing on Bob's toes, her face inches from his. Bob could smell her smoky, tobacco breath.
"I don't need to count it! If it's even a dollar short, I'll be back! My hobby is collecting money ... for loan sharks. I love convincing deadbeats to pay up. Sometimes it takes me all night ... before I agree to take their money. By the time I'm through with them, they're begging me to accept a little bonus ... sort of a special collection fee for my trouble. So make my day ... short me! You'll just love the experience. Make a different man out of you."
The two dykes turned around. They walked away from Bob's front door. He closed it quickly behind them. Bob shuddered as he double locked the door, thinking that he didn't want to cross either one. He was perspiring. What if he accidentally miscounted? He vowed that all future payments would be double and triple checked. Still trembling, he ran to his den, tapes in hand.

The first tape ready to play, Bob threw off his clothes. He dropped to the floor, pressed the remote button. The action began on the large screen.

The victim this time had obviously not arrived voluntarily. He was being dragged screaming in front of the cameras. The same chief torturer appeared on the screen. She was wearing black over-the-knee pirate boots with four inch high spiked heels. Her big breasts were covered by a black leather bra covered with long sharp spikes. She wore black leather panties, also covered with spikes.

Bob thought the blonde chief torturer still looked like a big ugly dyke with her severe DA hairstyle and over developed muscles. And the big Amazon was again wearing extremely heavy jet black eyeliner. Her lips were heavily covered by lavender lipstick. Bob wondered what she wore for Halloween.

The chief torturer was assisted by one woman. The second torturer had not participated in the other movie. Bob stared at the new assistant. 'Wow! This is more like it!' She was beautiful, tall, maybe five-ten or five-eleven. Bob wasn't sure because she was wearing platform boots with two inch thick soles and stiletto heels that must have been at least eight inches high. The black leather boots reached all the way to her crotch. Even with the boots, Bob was sure she had fantastic legs. Her voluptuous breasts were covered by a black leather bra with holes that exposed her large pointed nipples. Long beautiful straight brown hair hung down below her shoulders. Black eyeliner, dark brown eye shadow, and dark red lipstick had been applied with professional care. Her fingernails were very long, extending a good inch beyond each fingertip, and the nails were painted the same shade of red as her lips. Bob's cock stiffened as he stared at the gorgeous female and thought about screwing her, fucking her until her cunt was raw, banging her until she begged him to stop.

The beautiful brown haired assistant lit an ultra-long white cigarette. Bob stared at the cigarette. Bob was sure the cigarette was as long as the cigarettes Rhonda always smoked, but the assistant's cigarette was white instead of black. Bob noticed the cigarette's mouthpiece was coated with the young woman's lipstick after only a few drags. Bob was going to love watching this new assistant.

As the assistant smoked, she watched as the chief torturer unceremoniously nailed the victim's right wrist to a horizontal bar. The dyke now moved to the victim's other side, grabbed his wrist, and stretched his left arm, pulling until the arm was about to leave its socket. The beautiful assistant placed the cigarette between her red lips and walked to the victim's left side. While she nailed the victim's left wrist to the horizontal bar, she dragged on her cigarette still clenched between her teeth.

The assistant drove more nails into the victim's left wrist as the chief torturer hammered additional nails into his right wrist. The victim squirmed and begged for mercy. The poor man's screams increased in intensity as the two women drove nails through his forearms and the new pain engulfed him. Terror caused him to evacuate his bladder and his bowels. The mess was quickly cleaned up, then fed to him. When he threw up, his vomit was spooned up and fed to him. This was too much for Bob. The bile rising from his stomach, Bob ran to the bathroom. Ten minutes later Bob returned to his den. The VCR was still playing. Bob searched back until he found the end of the vomit scene.

The beautiful young woman lit another of her ultra-long white cigarettes while she waited for the cleanup. Finished with her cigarette, the assistant took one last drag, inhaled deeply, and crushed the red hot tip slowly into the man's right nipple. As he screamed, she exhaled the smoke from her lungs into his mouth. When the man choked and coughed from the cigarette smoke, the assistant grabbed his testicles and gave them a vicious punch with her other fist. Bob was shocked that such a beautiful woman could be so sadistic.

The women pulled the victim's feet roughly apart. The chief torturer dug her four inch spiked heel firmly into the man's right instep, just above the toes. Holding his foot firmly to the floor with her heel, she hammered a long nail into the man's right instep, where the foot meets the leg. The crunching of bones could be clearly heard above his screams. Still enjoying her cigarette, the young woman watched her leader. As the nail penetrated the victim's foot, she inhaled cigarette smoke deep into her lungs and smiled. Taking another drag on her cigarette, the assistant planted her eight inch stiletto heel into his left instep and drove a similar nail into the upper portion of the man's left instep. Still holding the victim's foot to the floor with her spiked heel, the chief torturer pounded another nail into the man's right foot about two inches below the first. Her evil assistant ground her stiletto heel into the man's left instep while she watched her leader. Then the assistant drove her second nail into the center of the victim's instep, making sure that she drove the nail in at an angle towards the first nail. The chief torturer straightened up and moved back a few feet to study the man.

The assistant removed her eight inch stiletto heel from the man's instep and quickly hammered a third nail where her heel had made a deep impression. The beautiful sadist walked to a nearby table, picked up a handful of smaller nails and returned to the victim.

The chief torturer lit a cigarillo while she watched her young assistant hammer one of the small nails into the small toe of the victim's left foot. The nail went right through the toenail. She kept pounding until the nail split the bone and went into the floor. Then the assistant drove a nail through each of the next three toenails, through the bone, and into the floor.

The chief torturer smiled as she took a deep drag on her cigarillo and watched her assistant continue. The assistant positioned a nail over the center of the victim's large toenail. The beautiful young woman looked up into the victim's eyes and smiled as the victim begged. She gave the nail a light tap and looked again into the man's eyes, smiling as she watched the look of agony on his face. She smiled again as she listened to him beg. The assistant made a kissing motion with her mouth and gave the nail another tap, piercing the toenail. The victim screamed. The assistant looked up at the victim and smiled as she gave the nail another tap, piercing the bone. Her final tap was vicious and drove the nail into the floor.

Still not done, the assistant positioned another small nail over the man's toenail, right at the cuticle. She looked up and smiled at her victim. The man stared at her, crying, screaming, begging her to stop. She smiled and gave the nail a light tap, then another. The nail pierced the man's toenail, imbedding itself in the bone. The man screamed, begged for mercy. Smiling, she gave the nail several more taps until the nail was imbedded in the floor.

The beautiful assistant stepped back, smiled at the screaming prisoner, and picked up an ultra-long white cigarette from her pack on the table. Lighting her assistant's cigarette, the chief torturer smiled,

"Nice touch. You really seemed to enjoy that."
The leader looked at her assistant's crotch, noticed thick drops of moisture on her pubic hair. The dyke ran her fingers over the young woman's vaginal lips.
"You're wet."
The young woman smiled as she took a long drag on her cigarette and inhaled. As she exhaled,
"Just happened ... spontaneously as I was driving the first nail into his big toe."
The assistant took another drag on her long white cigarette, inhaled. Exhaling, she spoke again,
"Thank you for letting me work with you. I really appreciate the opportunity. I've never experienced anything like this. I could do this all night, all week. Hell, I could do this forever."
The dyke pulled the young woman's hand down to her own crotch, pulled her assistant's hand inside her spiked panties. The assistant felt the moisture, smiled. The dyke smiled at her lovely assistant,
"Came when you put that nail through his big toenail. Guess we came together. Why don't you decorate his other foot? I want to see if I come again."

"Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

She took a deep drag on her cigarette, inhaled, exhaled.
"Would you mind a little variation? Maybe a little something different? A little more pain?"
The chief torturer smiled as she took a drag on her cigarillo and inhaled the smoke into her lungs. Exhaling the heavy smoke, she responded,
"I can't wait to see what your perverted little mind has thought of now."
The young woman applied fresh lipstick. Then she grabbed a switch blade knife, a box of long wooden matches, the pack of ultra-long white cigarettes, the hammer, and some three inch nails. She walked over to the helpless victim, her eight inch stilettos clicking on the floor. Still holding the almost finished cigarette, she selected a fresh ultra-long white cigarette from the pack and lit it with one of the wooden matches. As she inhaled, she held the match flame under the man's right nipple. When the flame went out, she slowly crushed the other cigarette into the man's right nipple. She was still crushing the cigarette into his nipple when she slowly exhaled the smoke into his face.
"Rest period's over, crybaby. I want you to take the next torture without making noise. Let's see if you can take a little pain without screaming."
As she took a drag on her cigarette, the beautiful young woman pressed the button on the knife. A long razor sharp blade suddenly appeared. As she smoked her cigarette, she shaved the wooden portion of three matches, one after the other, until each had a long tapered sharp flat edge. Smiling at her victim, she held the three matches and the nails in front of his eyes.
"Guess where these are going?"
Kneeling before the man's right foot, she pressed a match under the center of his largest toenail. While she smoked her cigarette, she slowly worked the match under the nail until only the sulphur head and about an inch of the wooden match remained in front of his toe. The sadistic young woman tapped nails under his toenail, one on either side of the match, until only half an inch of each steel nail protruded. She made sure that each steel nail was snug against the match for its complete length. Still smoking her cigarette, she worked two more matches under the man's toenail. One match lay against one steel nail, the other match lay against the other steel nail. Each match was deeply imbedded under the toenail with only an inch including the sulphur tip sticking out beyond his toe. Bob gasped as the camera showed a closeup of the three matches and two nails imbedded under the victim's toenail.

She looked up at her victim's face. He was in agony, trying desperately to hold back his scream. She smiled.

"Remember, no noise."
She positioned a steel nail over the man's middle toenail and tapped on the nail, until it pierced the toenail. The man began to scream. She looked up.
"Quiet! You don't want to piss me off!"
The man tried to stifle his scream. She tapped the nail several more times until it had penetrated his bone and was imbedded in the floor.
"You get another nail for making noise!"
Quickly, she positioned a second nail behind the first and gave the new nail two hard taps. The man screamed.
"I said no noise! You will learn!"
She quickly hammered a third nail into his middle toe, this nail slightly behind the second nail. The man tried to stifle his scream, but he couldn't stop the scream.

The chief torturer lit a long cigarillo and watched the young woman, who was now spreading the man's fourth toe as far as possible from his middle toe. The sadistic assistant positioned a steel nail over this toenail and gave the head a soft tap. She looked up, watching the man's face. The man was quiet, forcing himself to stifle a scream. The young woman smiled and tapped the hammer onto the steel nail, piercing the toenail. The man screamed. She smiled and gave the hammer another tap onto the nail-head. The nail went through the bone and into the floor. She pounded another steel nail into his toe, just behind the first. The man screamed. She looked up.

"Those screams are causing you extra pain, ass-hole!"
She hammered a third nail into his toe, her swing so powerful that the steel nail-head was imbedded in the man's toenail.

She spread the little toe as far as it would go, positioned a steel nail over his toenail, tapped with the hammer and looked up. The man was grimacing, forcing himself not to scream. The young woman took a drag on her cigarette, smiled, still watched his face. She gave the nail another tap, then another. The nail was imbedded in the bone. She looked up. The man hadn't screamed, but the agony on his face was evident. She smiled and gave the nail-head one last hard tap. As she took a drag on her cigarette, she looked up at the man. Tears were streaming down his face, he was moaning, but his mouth was tightly closed.

"You're learning. Maybe you're not as dumb as I thought."
Finished with her cigarette, the young woman took two slow deep drags, inhaled and slowly lowered the glowing tip to the man's foot. Smiling wickedly, she slowly pressed the hot tip into the flesh between his fourth and little toe. She looked up at the man's face and smiled. Bob had sat mesmerized, staring at the beautiful sadist on the screen, watching her smoke, enjoying every sadistic torture the young woman inflicted. Bob had really enjoyed her little game; torturing the man so he would scream; then torturing him for screaming. Bob wondered what the young woman on the screen was really like? Was she really that sadistic? Or was she just acting for the camera?

Bob wondered how a cigarette burn between the toes felt. Bob thought it couldn't be any worse than what Rhonda had done to him with her long black cigarettes. He remembered the pain she had inflicted with her cigarettes ... the burns on his arm while bound helplessly to the car seat, the burns on his nipples when he failed to lick Rhonda's ass-hole with enough enthusiasm, and the excruciating burns to his penis when he cleaned her toilet.

Bob turned his attention back to the screen. The young woman was spreading the man's second toe away from the toes she had already nailed to the floor. She picked up another nail and pressed the point into the toenail, right in the center. The camera had focused for an extreme closeup. Now Bob saw the hammer head almost gently tap the nail-head. Smoke entered the picture. The gorgeous young woman must have lit another cigarette. Bob wondered if she smoked this much all the time or just when she was torturing someone. Another tap. Bob could see the steel nail piercing the man's toenail. And Bob could hear the man's tortured scream. Bob thought of the man's punishment for screaming. Bob hoped the camera would stay in closeup for the extra torture. The hammer struck again. Bob touched his freeze frame button and watched frame by frame as the nail moved through the man's toenail, into the bone, through the bone, into the floor. 'Wow! Fucking fantastic!' Bob was talking to himself, out loud. His den was empty except for him, his TV, and the violent video. Bob pressed the play button.

"I told you I wanted silence!"
The evil assistant took a drag on her cigarette as she pressed another nail into the man's toe, just above the first. She drove the steel nail into his toenail as she inhaled. As she exhaled, she drove the nail through the bone, into the floor with a vicious swing of the hammer. The man screamed wildly. She took another deep drag on her cigarette as she positioned a third nail behind the others, near the cuticle. She inhaled smoke deep into her lungs as she looked up at the man's face. Smiling as she exhaled the cigarette smoke, she gave the nail-head a hard tap with the hammer, then another. Smiling, she lifted the cigarette to her lips as she looked up at the screaming victim.

Bob watched the wicked assistant spread the man's big toe away from the others. She positioned a nail next to the inside edge of his toe and gave the nail a few moderate taps, just enough force to drive the nail into the wooden floor. Bob watched, fascinated, wondering if she had missed.

She laid her almost finished cigarette on the man's foot. She paused to freshen her lipstick and light a fresh white six and a half inch long Nat Sherman cigarette. While the hot cigarette ash lay on the top of the man's foot, burning him, she took a long drag on the fresh cigarette. As she inhaled, she removed the old cigarette from his foot and pressed it into the soft flesh between his big and second toe. She looked up at the crying man, smiled, took a long drag, inhaled, exhaled. She took another long drag. As she inhaled, she moved the cigarette under the outside match still imbedded under his toenail. Exhaling, she lifted the hot tip of her cigarette until it touched the sulphur end of the match. After a moment of contact, the sulphur tip ignited.

Smiling wickedly, the sadistic assistant brought the cigarette back to her lips as she turned to glance at her leader. The beautiful young woman smiled at the dyke, then turned back to watch the match burning its way toward the man's toe. Smoking her cigarette, she watched the flame from the match gradually warm the steel nail resting against the match. Bob wasn't sure which was the cause, the flame from the outside match or the glowing nail, but the center match suddenly ignited. Moments later, the inside match ignited. Bob froze the picture on his VCR and slowly advanced frame by frame. Flame from each match was slowly advancing toward the man's toe. The flame on the outside match was slightly closer than the middle match which was slightly closer than the inside match. Both nails seemed to be glowing. Bob stared at the screen, fascinated. The flame from the first match reached the victim's toe. Bob watched as the flame went under the man's toenail. The man screamed. His scream got louder as the flame from the middle match reached his toe and went under his toenail. A moment later, the flame from the inside match touched his toe and dipped under the toenail. All three matches went out as they consumed whatever oxygen was under the man's toenail. Bob was still listening to the man scream. The two steel nails were still glowing and continued to glow for perhaps thirty seconds after the flames went out.

The assistant was shaking, rubbing her crotch, taking deep drags on her cigarette, inhaling the cigarette smoke deep into her lungs, exhaling, taking another drag. She stood and smiled as she looked over at the dyke. The chief torturer had a big satisfied grin on her face and called to her assistant,

"You're wonderful. That was the best cum I've had in weeks."
The big dyke could hardly move, but managed to walk over to her beautiful assistant and give her a passionate kiss. The two evil women drove their tongues into each other's mouths, sucked each other's tongues. The dyke stroked the young woman's pussy.
"I thought you came."
The assistant turned back to her victim and extinguished what was left of her cigarette on his tongue.
"Chew it, then swallow it!"
After applying fresh lipstick, she took a six and a half inch long white cigarette from her pack. As she positioned her eight inch stiletto heel over the center of poor man's big toenail, the wicked young woman snortled,
"I'm not done yet."
As she placed the ultra-long white cigarette between her lips, the assistant pressed her sharp stiletto heel into the man's toe.
"Got a light?"
The chief torturer lit her assistant's cigarette, then took one of the ultra-long white cigarettes for herself. She lit the cigarette and watched her beautiful young assistant press the thin stiletto heel deeper into the victim's toenail. The man screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

The dyke orgasmed again as she watched the young woman use her strong thigh and calf muscles to press harder on the stiletto heel. The young woman continued pressing firmly on the heel until she poked a hole through the man's toenail. The sadistic young woman stood there, smoking her long white cigarette, dragging on the cigarette, inhaling the cigarette smoke deep into her lungs, exhaling the cigarette smoke into the screaming man's mouth. Her leg strength had bent the two steel nails still imbedded under the man's toenail. As she smoked, the young sadist began to grind the ultra-thin heel, twisting the heel back and fourth into the man's toenail. The toenail split. The thin stiletto heel made a hole in the man's toenail. The camera was in closeup. Bob froze the action and slowing advanced the picture frame by frame. Bob could see pieces of the split toenail surrounding the stiletto heel. The pieces were bent down into the man's flesh. The young woman continued grinding and pressing her heel into the man's toe, grinding the stiletto against the bone in the man's toe. Bob pressed the play button just in time to hear the man screaming, louder and louder. The assistant smiled and blew smoke into the man's face.

While the beautiful bitch continued grinding her stiletto heel deeper into the man's toe, the chief torturer knelt down to get a closer look. The dyke had her fingers buried under her spiked leather panties. Bob knew she was in the throws of a violent orgasm. The young sadist continued grinding her heel into the man's toe as she smiled down at her leader.

Finally, the dyke stood up and embraced her assistant. The dyke whispered,

"That was wonderful. What can I do for you ... to show my appreciation?"
The sadistic young woman dragged on her cigarette, inhaled. She smiled at her boss,
"Let me do more videos. Or let me have the rejects ... anyone you kidnap but decide not to use in a video. I'd make them last for a long time, maybe weeks, while I tried new ways to inflict pain. Do you need a research department?"
The dyke smiled and as she turned back to look at the victim's destroyed toe, admired her assistant's work. The camera drank in the exquisite scene. Bob stared at the man's feet.

The victim was moaning, sobbing. Blood had dripped to the floor from the wounds. The flow had diminished to almost nothing. The camera closed in on the victim's nailed hands and then the feet. The camera-woman paused for a long close-up of the man's ruined big toe on his left foot. It panned back up to his face. Terror and pleading were etched in pain induced lines. The camera focused on the two torturers, embracing, kissing, rubbing each other's clits. Smiling, they lit fresh ultra-long white cigarettes, obviously pleased with the pain they had inflicted.

Bob climaxed as he watched the victim's agony racked features. The action continued. The two torturers spent the next several hours slowly, painfully, removing the skin from the squealing victim's body. Both women used switch blade knives with razor sharp five or six inch blades.

The vicious women started with the victim's arms, the chief torturer working on his right arm while her beautiful assistant worked on his left. Each woman made a shallow incision in the soft skin of the screaming man's wrist and drew the blade toward his elbow. Then the evil women made shallow incisions at one inch intervals above and below the first cuts. Finally, they connected the three incisions at the elbow. Each woman paused to apply fresh lipstick. Then each woman lit an ultra-long white cigarette. Each woman took a drag on her cigarette as she watched the look of fear in the poor man's eyes.

Each torturer picked up pincers and slowly tore the first strips of flesh from the man's arms as each woman took another drag, inhaled and exhaled cigarette smoke into the victim's screaming face. He was still screaming when each vicious sadist tore the second strip of flesh from his arm. They smiled as they listened to the popping noises made each time the flesh tore over the nails still imbedded in the victim's forearms. Each woman now paused to finish her cigarette and listen to the victim's screams. When each woman finished her cigarette, she slowly drilled the burning ember into the man's right nipple.

The women made additional incisions above and below the missing flesh, stopping when they reached the area facing the horizontal bar. After connecting the new incisions, the chief dyke paused to light a long brown cigarillo. Her assistant freshened her lipstick and lit one of her ultra-long white cigarettes. Again using pincers, the women slowly tore narrow strips of flesh from the victim's forearms, all the while dragging on the cigarillo and cigarette, inhaling, and exhaling the smoke into the man's pleading face. They finished his forearms about the same time they finished their smokes. After taking several long drags to get a long hot tip, each woman simultaneously ground the red hot coal into his right nipple, the beautiful assistant drilling her cigarette from the right side into his nipple, the evil dyke drilling her cigarillo from the left side of his nipple. The man's nipple was squeezed between the two hot embers.

Now the women paused for refreshments as the camera-woman focused on each bloody arm, scanning slowly from the wrist to the elbow.

Finished with their refreshments, the evil women turned their attention to the victim's upper arms. Using the same razor sharp switch blades, each woman made a shallow incision from the victim's elbow to his shoulder. The sadistic women then made additional incisions at one inch intervals above and below the initial cuts until they reached the horizontal bar and were forced to stop.

Finished with the preliminary step, the women paused to apply fresh lipstick and light ultra-long white cigarettes. Smoking as they worked, the two evil torturers slowly tore off the one-inch strips of flesh, one strip at a time, from the victim's shoulders down to his elbows. The women left little time for the victim to recover from one excruciating tear before they tore off the next strip of flesh. Bob listened to the victim's continuous screams of agony. Finished, the women ground the red hot ends of their cigarettes into the man's right nipple, one from above, one from below. The right nipple was covered with blisters and burns.

The chief torturer took a break, lighting a cigarillo. As she smoked, she watched her assistant walk over to a table and apply fresh lipstick. The beautiful young woman picked up a box of salt and returned to the victim. The chief torturer smiled.

The beautiful assistant lit a long white cigarette, poured salt into her hand and rubbed the salt into the victim's right arm. The victim began to scream hysterically. She rubbed more salt into his right arm. More screams from the sobbing, crying victim. Dragging on her cigarette, she rubbed salt into his left arm. The victim couldn't stop screaming. The assistant smiled into the victim's face and took another drag on her cigarette, waiting for the victim's screams to stop. When he finally stopped screaming, the beautiful sadist poured more salt directly on his left arm and slowly, methodically, almost sensually rubbed it in. She smiled into the victim's face as he screamed over and over, continuously. The beautiful sadist rejoined her leader.

The chief torturer smiled, took a drag on her cigarillo, inhaled, and exhaled as she spoke to the beautiful assistant,

"Where did the salt come from?"
The beautiful young sadist paused before replying. She dragged on her cigarette, inhaled, exhaled. Smiling at the dyke,
"Bought it last night ... after I read the script ... same time I got the kitchen matches."
She took another drag, inhaled. As she exhaled the cigarette smoke,
"Guess I should have asked you first. But it was late. Just thought of it as I read the script. Hoped you wouldn't mind ... a little extra pain. I didn't think it would kill him prematurely."
The young woman took another drag on her cigarette, inhaled, exhaled.
"Torturing him is such a kick. Fucking fantastic! Much better than sex. He's so vulnerable, so helpless. And I really get off on hurting him, inflicting pain, making him suffer. This is much better than S&M. That's just a game. This is real. We don't have to hold back. We can do whatever we want. Or at least whatever you want. Really hurt him. No worries about permanent damage. Better than I ever imagined. I wouldn't do anything that would prevent me from doing more torture videos."
She took a drag on her cigarette, inhaled. Smiling, she exhaled.
"Are you mad?"
The big blonde listened while she took another drag on her cigarillo, then replied,
"I'm not mad. Hell, I enjoyed watching you torture him ... including your little extras. And I think our customers will appreciate you too. So don't apologize."
The dyke dragged on her cigarillo, inhaled the thick smoke, exhaled.
"You showed imagination and initiative. I like that. Think of the script as a guide. Almost anything that causes the victim pain and suffering is acceptable ... as long as it doesn't cause immediate death. We want him to suffer as much excruciating pain and agony as possible before he dies."
The assistant freshened her lipstick and lit another ultra-long white cigarette. Smoking her cigarette, she watched the victim being given liquids, drugs and essential nutrients so that he could endure the next phase of his torture.

The two women picked up their switch blades and returned to the victim, each taking one last long drag before extinguishing her cigarette by drilling the red hot ember slowly into the center of the man's right nipple. Each had inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs and now exhaled the smoke into his open screaming mouth.

They now began skinning his legs, the dyke working on the right leg while her assistant concentrated on his left leg. Each slowly dragged her razor sharp blade from his waist down to just above his ankle, starting behind his hips and running the blades along the side of his legs. The cuts were much deeper than those on his arms. Now the sadistic women made several more incisions, moving methodically toward the inner leg just below the groin. The cuts were about two inches apart at the top of his legs, very close together at his ankles. From a distance, the long cuts resembled a series of long narrow V's. The women now connected the V-shaped cuts at the top with their switch blades.

The chief torturer lit a cigarillo. The beautiful assistant applied fresh lipstick, then lit one of her six and a half inch long white cigarettes. Using pincers, the women slowly tore the strips of flesh, one by one, down from his waist to his ankles. The poor man didn't stop screaming from the first tear until five minutes after the last strip of flesh was ripped from his legs. Finished for the moment, the beautiful assistant walked away.

By the time the victim's screams had stopped, the young assistant was standing in front of him, smoking another ultra-long white cigarette. Bob's erection became harder as he looked at the heavy lipstick smear on the cigarette's mouthpiece. Smiling, she held up the box of salt so the man could see it. The victim's eyes showed his terror as he mumbled,

"Pleeeeese, noooo."
The assistant smiled as she poured salt into her hand and raised her hand so he could see it. The man screamed at the top of his lungs for the next twenty minutes as the evil young woman rubbed salt into every square inch of his bloody legs. During that twenty minutes of excruciating torture, she only paused twice, each time to light a fresh ultra-long white cigarette.

Now the two women picked up paring knives and removed the top thin layer of skin from the victim's stomach. They competed with one another to see who could remove the longest strip of skin. When they were done, long narrow strips of skin lay in a pile at the victim's feet. After the first thin layer of skin was completely removed from just below his nipples to just above his groin, the two evil women peeled off the next thin layer, then the next. And the victim screamed and screamed and didn't stop screaming even when the two women were finished.

The victim kept screaming because the assistant had picked up the box of salt as the chief torturer slowly removed the last strip of skin. As the last long strip of skin fell to the floor, the assistant poured salt into the dyke's waiting palm, then poured salt into her own hand. The women didn't even stop for a smoke. Instead, each used both hands to massage the salt into the screaming man's raw flesh. The sadists were very thorough, making sure that every square inch of flesh was covered with a thick layer of salt. As they walked away to light up and watch the victim's reactions, he kept screaming ... and screaming ... and screaming. He was still screaming when each lit her third ultra-long white cigarette.

The assistant whispered something into the chief torturer's ear. The dyke smiled, nodded.

"Are you sure you can handle them? They're much stronger than you're used to."
The assistant smiled.
"I can if I'm torturing someone with them."
The assistant walked away, her eight inch stiletto-heeled boots making an ominous sound on the floor. The assistant returned with a large brown paper bag and joined the chief torturer in front of the victim. The assistant emptied the contents of the bag onto a table near the victim. There appeared long strips of thin wire, a pair of pliers, two wire brushes, and packages and packages of different types and brands of cigarillos.

The assistant wrapped a long piece of wire tightly around the base of the man's penis several times and used the pliers to twist the wire tight. As the chief torturer held and spread the man's balls, the assistant wrapped long pieces of wire tightly around the base of each nut, again using the pliers to twist the remaining ends tightly together.

Both women pulled up chairs, sat down, applied fresh lipstick, and lit long brown cigarillos. The vicious assistant lit a second cigarillo, moments after lighting the first one. The dyke watched her assistant smoke the second cigarillo while she burned the victim's penis with the first one. Soon the young woman switched cigarillos, replacing the torture instrument with the one with a longer, hotter tip. The dyke smiled. She knew instantly what the young woman was doing.

"You're unbelievable! Have you done this before?"
The beautiful assistant looked up at her leader, smiled.
"Many times. But nothing quite as intense or thorough as this."
The dyke lit a second cigarillo, following her assistant's example. For the next two hours, the sadists scorched, blistered and burned the victim's penis and testicles. Both women continued the double torture, burning with one cigarillo while smoking the other, keeping a nice long hot tip always ready when the other cigarillo started to lose its glow. The women paid particular attention the man's piss slit, rolling, touching, poking, drilling, and grinding the long red hot tips of their cigarillos into his cum-hole, over and over, again and again. When they were finished, the man's penis and testicles were one big deep ugly blister. There wasn't a square centimeter of flesh that wasn't blistered and burned. There wasn't a spot of unburned flesh anywhere on his penis or testicles. The man screamed ... and screamed ... and screamed. Several times during the two hours of torture, he began losing his voice. The action would stop while aids sprayed a solution on his vocal chords, the same solution opera singers use.

Each woman applied fresh lipstick and lit an ultra-long white cigarette. Each picked up a wire brush. For twenty minutes, they used the wire brushes to remove the blisters from the victim's testicles. Then the two sadists turned their attention to his penis. For thirty minutes, the women masturbated the man's raw penis with their wire brushes, using long strokes from the base to the tip and back again to the base. Over and over. They coordinated their strokes, pressing their brushes from opposite sides. One brushed the top of the man's penis, the other brushed the bottom, One wire brush on the right side, the other brush stroking, pressing the left side. The assistant held his raw shaft while the dyke brushed up and down, then side to side across the tip of his dick. Then the vicious women switched. Bob thought it was funny each time the victim had a orgasm while he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

Finished with the wire brush torture, the dyke relaxed. The beautiful assistant leaned over and whispered something into the chief torturer's ear. The dyke smiled at her assistant. The assistant rose, walked away, her eight inch stilettos clicking on the floor as she walked. The evil young woman returned with a bottle of alcohol, a basting brush, and a bowl. The assistant sat down and poured alcohol into the bowl. For the next thirty minutes, she basted the victim's raw bloody penis and testicles. The victim screamed at the top of his lungs; he kept on screaming. By the end of the fifth cassette, the victim could barely produce a moan.

The camera showed a close-up. The sight on the screen was magnificent. The entire front of the victim's torso was open. The skin had been peeled away. The subcutaneous layer glistened under the bright studio lights. Most skin had been removed from the victim's quivering legs and arms. Special attention had been paid to his genitals.

The sobbing victim's blistered and burned penis had been skinned, his blistered and burned scrotum removed. The two testes remained connected. Not for long, though. The final tape opened with the wrenching of the victim's gonads from his body. The penis followed. It, too, was forcibly ripped away from the victim whose screams had somehow reactivated.

The severing of the victim's arms and legs was performed without finesse. The last minutes of the movie saw the limbless victim jerking about on the floor while the two sadistic female torturers urinated over him. With a final gasp and an animal like wail, the victim went rigid. He slumped, and was dead.

Of course, Bob Clifford achieved yet another climax at the instant of death. He continued to lie back, stroking his unrelenting erection, breathing heavily. Bob showered, ate. He returned to his den to watch the movie again.