No Way To Treat A Nipple. free porn video

No Way to Treat a Nipple.

Page 1.

       'What do you think you're doing? What? Who are you?'

       She was as angry as she was scared.

       'What I'm doing is pointing a gun at you and it's loaded. You want me to prove that it's loaded?'

       I was dead serious and I wasn't scared nor angry.

       Pumped to the nines, that's where I was.

       'No, for God's sake. No, of course not, but I'll thank you to stop pointing it at me. I don't know who you think I am but I'm not wealthy. I'm not rich so I'm not who you think.'

       I loved it immensely how they often went right to the money, never thinking it could be sexual.

       The fucking cunt was built like a brick shit-house but she wasn't fat at all. She was medium boned, stood five foot eleven but what first caught my eye was her bra from the back. She was what I'd consider a solid woman, mid forties and obviously had breeding and success, but fuck, oh fuck, her bra was one of those sturdy ones that was three inches wide at the back and used three clasps at least. She had a thin, fairly see-through white blouse on over so I could see enough.

       That was the very first time I saw her. We were in the checkout line at the supermarket and I was two behind her. Anyway, each time she reached down into her cart I could see the outlines of her bra perfectly. Finally, as in an answer to my prayer, she turned so I got a good side to front view and my cock near jumped out of its foreskin.

       She was beautiful, gorgeous.

       And I mean was her chest built. Heavy and down and weighty and I just knew it was natural. She didn't look the type to have stuffed herself with silicone nor saline solution or whatever else they used to ruin perfectly good tits.

       What God gave them, that's what I wanted to torture and nothing more. She had a long flowing cotton skirt on down to her ankles with an old fashioned, sort of a country flavor, which turned out truly suited her station in life.

Page 2.

       The thing was, you'd think a cunt that looked like her would have had more sense. She would have had more savvy about the kind of attention she would attract. She was one in a hundred or even one in a thousand so she had to know she was good looking, a looker as I referred to my criteria for potential rape victims.

       First and foremost always a looker.

       I mean, I know I wasn't the only guy looking at her. I could have sworn the clean cut guy in the line in front of me was playing pocket pool with his nuts as he gazed at her.

       But the greater stupidity on her part was, as I rushed out to clear the checkout, I told the girl I'd forgotten my debit card, there she sat in her Suburban on her cell phone and the name of her business (or at least her husband's) was plastered discretely on its side. Somehow she must have thought because it was small and there was no telephone number nor address it couldn't lead a woman hunter to find her.

       She most likely never even thought of it at all.

       'Kinghaven Ranch. The finest horses money can't buy.'

       As it turned out, they only boarded horses for other people and while it was profitable, it wasn't large enough to make them wealthy.

       But that was none of the point.

       It took me all of three minutes to Google her ranch name and find out she lived just two hours away. She was visiting with friends which was why I'd never seen her in my local market before.

       And that made it even more better and perfect. Too close to home and the cops can zero in. Two hours away, stranger on stranger, you might say she was royally fucked the first time I saw her. Which was why I had my gun on her in the finished basement of their ranch home.

       I intended to royally fuck her but she had no idea and assumed I was in it for the money and not the pussy.

       And until they had to know they were going to be cunt ripped, it was always best to keep it that way. Keep up the charade until I had complete and utter control over them. If they thought it was for money, they could rationalize not fighting me. If they thought it was for rape and sexual mayhem they'd be much more inclined to revolt and fight back.

       The voice of experience ever guided me.

Page 3.

       I only wanted them to fight back when I could control the degree and it would ever be useless for them to try.

       And so I had my gun aimed at her startled face and she admonished me further.

       'I swear, I'll call the police. I'll call the cops if you don't put that gun down and get out of here. I have no money here. There's no safe, if that's what you think and besides my husband's going to me home any minute.'

       He wasn't going to be.

       I'd done my homework. He was at a horse auction to sell one of the boarded horses for its owner and I'd found that out through their web site. It gave the particulars and location and he was three hours away at the very moment she lied to me.

       I felt like kicking her in the ass, like a good swift kick a naughty school boy deserved when caught lying but I was afraid I'd boot her twat instead. It all flashed through my imagination in an instant as I pictured her staggering under the weight of her newly ruptured cunt.

       Such are fleeting fantasies and images.

       They are the greatest of motivators.

       Just knowing I could do it and didn't chose to.

       'Look. Look here, you're not a stupid woman. You don't look like one at all. In fact, I imagine it takes someone pretty smart to run this show, the horses and all, so don't bull-shit me. Don't horse-shit me either because if your husband's coming soon, I'll just have to shoot him  and you don't want that, do you?'

       She acted meeker.

       'No. No again, of course not. But you wouldn't anyway. Would you?'

       'Forget about it. Forget about him. He's not here now and you are and so am I, so lets get on with it.'

       'Get on with what?'

       'The money honey. The money you said you don't have. There has to be some, so just tell me where and I'll go find it.'

       'No. No, but no. I just told you. Didn't you hear me? You didn't understand me?'

       'Oh I heard you and I understand but I just don't believe you the same way I don't believe your husband's coming home soon.'

Page 4.

       It made her uncomfortable I was so sure (and right) about that fact but her mind slipped onto her next play.

       She though she was playing for power or a trick.

       She had no idea she was playing for keeps.

       'I won't call the police if you just go and leave. I won't call them. I don't have to, you know? You haven't done anything to me. You haven't hurt me so I don't have to tell them anything because there's really not much to say.'

       I pretended to consider her offer like I was wavering.

       I even slowly lowered the twenty-two hand gun and she started to step forward.

       Presumptuous bitch that she inherently was.

       I leveled it fast at her face and ordered her, 'Step back, Keep back, unless you want to get shot. It might even go off accidently but still you'd be wounded.'

       She froze.

       And I stepped back.

       'Put your hands up behind the back of your head.'

       Fuck did I love saying that to her.

       She didn't want to.

       She knew she was built and her bust generous so she did not want to be standing there with it thrust to the forefront and exposed. She thought it might incite me, as in possibly excite me, to give me ideas. She should have thought of that before she tried to snow me, to manipulate me.

       She should have thought of that before she showed off her stuff at the supermarket, and that had been a month earlier.

       'No, please. OK, no. OK. I made a mistake. I'll do what you say.'

       I waited knowing she didn't mean she'd display her chest.

       Nothing happened. She didn't move.

       'So, when?' I asked.

       'What? What?'

       'When are you going to do what I say?'

       'I.. No.. What? What do you mean?'

       I showed her a greedy glint in my eye and reminded her, 'Hands up behind your head. When are you going to comply?'

       It was fascinating, like sheer poetry, watching her raise her arms and trying, at the same time, to keep her chest into herself.

       She wished she was a 34B instead of a 37D.

Page 5.  

       It wasn't the first time she'd wished it, but for completely different reasons. The weight of her breasts put a constant strain on her back and even with her heavy duty bras it was a weight that carried her as much as she carried it.

       I pretended not to notice her riches but my pants were near to swelling. If she saw that she could spook and I could have to fight her. It was too risky, she looked pretty strong, although I'd love doing it later when she was constrained and tethered by the neck to the ceiling of where I'd be taking her.

       I looked away so as not to stare and she thought I was being a gentleman, considerate of her integrity and person, thoughtful and civilized considering the situation.

       'Kneel down. I want you to kneel on your knees.'

       She eyed me more suspiciously.

       I was assuming additional control over her, control she felt I needn't have.

       'No. I'm sorry. I don't want to. Why?'

       'I want to tie you up. Then I can check the house for myself to satisfy me that you're telling the truth. That you haven't been lying to me. I hate it, I fucking hate it when bitches lie to me.'

       It unnerved her.

       She wasn't a bitch and had never acted like one.

       I seemed, all of a sudden, hateful and malevolent.

       I always loved that word, it seemed so much like

male-violent.

       Her spine chilled and her vagina gave a twinge.

       And the thing was, there was some money. Her husband always kept five grand in cash for contingencies where no receipt was required.

       It wasn't enough to matter but she thought I should have it.

       That if I wanted to tie her up, five large she'd give up.

       'No. Yes, I made a mistake. There is some money, some cash.'

       'How much?'

       'A few thousand, maybe four and I'll get it for you.'

       She was trying to chisel me for a G note.

       'Tell you what, I'll tie you like I said and you tell me. I'll get it and come back to untie you.'

       She didn't know which way to turn, nor what lie to tell me next to get me diverted.

Page 6.

       'I.. No, please, I'll show you where. I'll get it for you.'

       'I'm not going to ask you again. On your knees so I can tie you up. I want to tie your hands behind your back.'

       I almost said I want to tie your hands behind your behind but figured she might read the sexual content into it.

       Her fucking ass needed branding irons up it.

       Red hot and sizzling.

       She struggled like she'd never struggled like anything else before, to lower herself. You'd have thought she had advanced arthritis. It was almost painful for her to comply.

       What she had was a sense she was giving over what couldn't be regained, couldn't be taken back easily, namely power and control. Her autonomy was up for compromise.

       Her long legs trembled as she sank down until her knees made contact with the hardwood floor.

       She presumed she could let her arms down too.

       I almost bitch-slapped her but let her have it her way. I needed them behind her back anyway, more than I needed to humiliate and discipline her, so she was sort of assisting me.

       Still I wanted to hoof her and lay a shit kicking beating on her.

       And she had no idea as I looked at the side of her head.

       She folded her arms across her chest to hide what she wasn't sure if I was noticing.

       She thought she was being smooth and subtle and it would keep me unaware.

       None of it mattered a whit, a little whit.

       I stared at her head, at the profile of her face and she tried to hide her trembling. She was strong. She was brave and I wouldn't intimidate her into doing anything she didn't want to. The thing being she already had been. She pushed her chin up and out and sucked in a deep, strength-enhancing breath.

       She inhaled courage.

       I got the feeling she was about to fight.

       I was close to her and she could strike me hard if she swung right and connected.

       I stepped aside as she took her swipe, trying to grab the gun.

Page 7.

       'What the? What the fuck do you think you're doing? What the? Lie flat. Lay flat to the floor.'

       The tone in my voice had authority and menace and the gun had even more say.

       I pointed it at her brain like I was going to splatter it.

       'No. No. OK. OK. I'm sorry. That was stupid of me. I shouldn't have tried that. I'm sorry, just don't shoot me.'

       I knew what she meant. She meant she shouldn't have tried and failed. That's what she was really about.

       'So hurry up and shut the fuck up and lie flat.'

       I watched every crease and stretch of her clothes as she got down to obey. Her ass was up like a mountain to be climbed and mounted and her chest squished flat and out to the sides.

       I had to take my own deep breath.

       She didn't like the smell of it.

       The smell of me.

       I was giving off the sex odor.

       I was trying not to jerk off in my imagination against her ass cheeks, but fuck, how strong was I supposed to be?

       Geeze, a homosexual priest would have spunked himself at the sight of her. She was pure carnal meat laid flat out on the alter.

       I fished some strong, white nylon cord out of my pocket and a small switch-blade knife.

       She was surprised that I had them and somewhat distressed too.

       What had I come prepared for?

       I clicked the knife open and cut off a suitable length to tie her wrists.

       I was breathing heavy and orgasmically.

       I took my first firm hold of her and positioned her hands behind her back just above her bum and tied them fast but strong. I had to keep my mind off her ass or I'd've never got it done. I knew it was too tight for her circulation but once I had her completely dominated, then I could adjust her wrist tie suitably.

Page 8.

       But the thing was -

       The huge, huge milestone was - her arms and hands were rendered useless. That avenue of fight for her was gone and I had never been more satisfied nor self-congratulatory.

       She looked around alarmed as I cut off another piece three feet long.

       'No. What? No. What are you doing? You've already got me tied. What do you need that for?'

       'For your ankles, of course, for your legs.'

       Something in her vagina screamed out to her.

       It needed protecting. She had to defend it.

       'No. No. Oh no you don't. I won't let you.'

       She swung herself around so she could kick at me if I tried to constrain her further.

       She wrenched at her wrist tie too but it wasn't going to give and besides it cut into her and hurt.

       But she was going to give, she'd have to yield.

       She was going to be my sperm bank.

       I approached to tie her and she kicked out at me like a burrow. I stepped to the side and she tried to jack-ass kick me again. Which ever way I went she turned to keep her flailing feet pointed my way to repel me.

       I stepped back and raised the knife to show her and fired it into the wood floor. It stuck and vibrated making a sprong sound. I jerked it out fast.

       'The next one. The next one goes in you.'

       She seemed genuinely surprised and reasonably horrified.

       'No. No. God, no. You wouldn't.'

       I raised my hand with the knife positioned ready.

       'OK. OK. No. No, don't. OK. Tie my ankles if that's what you have to do. Tie them. OK. Alright. OK.' She paused. 'OK?'

       Like was I still willing to do it and not knife her?

       She thought she was going to call the shots on that front too and rolled onto her side.

       'No, sit up. Set up on the floor.'

       'But no, you just tie me. Like you said.'

Page 9.

       'No, but no, you sit up first.'

       The sweet thing was with her arms already tied behind her back, it was plenty awkward and difficult to assume a sitting position and she sensed what I liked about it was watching her struggle to do so. She was partially correct, I love, love, loved watching her try it. How she had to twist her body and her chest to do my want.

       Eventually she succeeded but not before seeing the evil grin on my face and the malice in my smile full of teeth so when I knelt down to tie her ankles off she was deeply concerned.

       How could she protect her vagina with her legs tied too?

       'You said you were after money. That's what you said, right? That's what you want? You're not going to try anything, are you?'

       'What? Like you just did? How could you be so reckless and stupid?'

       I tied her ankles leaving her two feet of slack. It confused her since she'd expected me to tie them tight like her wrists but she could still spread her feet two feet apart.

       She didn't make the connection right off, she could spread her legs too. Or I could spread them for her.

       I was up and standing over her.

       She didn't look so strong and able like that.

       I threw my knife sticking into the floor again not six inches from her hips.

       I walked around her surveying her.

       I strutted around her controlling her and lusting after her.

       I pretended to act pissed.

       'So, what the fuck? Who do you think you are? What did you think you were doing?'

       She returned my defiance and (pretend) anger.

       'Go to Hell.'

       I came upon her and gripped myself a handful of her hair and twisted her face to face me.

       'What? That's not nice. Repeat that.'

       'Stop it. Ow, Ow, you're hurting me. Stop it.'

Page 10.

       'Repeat what you said.'

       'Go to Hell. I said go to Hell.'

       'Did it ever occur to you that maybe you're already in Hell. Your own private Hell of my making. That ever occur to you? And how do you get free from Hell?'

       'No. What? How? What do you mean?'

       'Oh not much. Just this.'

       I started to undo my pants.

       Her eyes exploded in indignation and outrage but the real fear wasn't there yet. It was waiting its turn.

       'What? No. What do you think you're doing? No, stop it. What do you think?'

       'I think you're going to see me take my clothes off.'

       I really gloated it to her.

       'No. No. No, God, no. Don't. No, I don't want you to. I'm sorry.'

       I doffed my pants and I can't say I scared her with the size of my package. I was quite average and she almost wanted to insult me about it but thought better of it. She took satisfaction that I didn't seem to be much of a man. My cock couldn't hurt her too much. She had no idea. No idea at all about my repertoire of instruments and devious devices. My cock was the least of her worries.

       I stood straddling her knees and my rising prick was at her face level.

       The audacity of the bitch, she tried to head butt my balls. I stepped enough aside she just got my hip. It hurt but in a good way. It offered me incentive and mock outrage to really go at her like she'd asked for it to make it happen.

       'You. What the fuck? You evil cunt. You evil fucking bitch, ball bash me, will you?'

       I stepped around behind her and gripped her hair again. I near pulled out a handful. I jerked the knife from the floor and held it to her jugular.

       I nicked her but not the vein.

       I'd drawn first blood.

       Every fiber of her froze.

       'No. No, don't kill me. No, don't cut my throat.'

Page 11.

       'You've got it coming. You dumb fucking bitch, have you ever got it coming.'

       'No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, please. No, please don't.'

       'On your feet.'

       I pulled up hard enough on her hair to lift her and she struggled and twisted to stand up. She almost shimmied up.

       I let go and let her stand all nervous and shaking and anticipatory.

       I spied a wooden chair, to the side, and brought it closer to sit on in front of her.

       She was the one who needed to be sitting, she was finally so scared.

       She gave me a pleading look and moments later peed herself and she knew that wasn't good with me half naked.

       With her piss her dignity soaked the floor, lay on the floor, too.

       I stripped off my top and mopped up the warm spill.

       I'd clean her legs off later.

       I gave her a disgusted look.

       'So shit. What the fuck? Who's gonna clean up the rest of this mess? Who's gonna clean you up?'

       She looked genuinely embarrassed until I pinched my own nipples hard.

       Then she looked more than scared.

       She knew her nipples were special. They were particularly huge, almost three quarters of an inch across and stuck out the same.

       Why was I pinching my nipples?

       'No. No, please listen. Please stop. If you're thinking to attack me, please don't. Please. I didn't mean to. Please don't.'

       'You mean like you attacked me?'

       'No. No, I'm sorry.'

       'No, not like you attacked me?'

       She knew I was toying with her.

       'Please just stop.'

       'How then? How do you mean?'

       'You know how. Sexually. You know how.'

Page 12.

       'I'll tell you what I should do. I should cut your fucking tits off. That's what I should do.'

       She'd heard it said in the movies before but she'd never heard it said to her about her.

       She was getting royally freaked.

       'For God's sake no. No, you can't be serious. Don't talk that way, please. Please stop.'

       I was Hell-fired to go.

       'So I'll tell you what I'll do. Let me see your tits, let me see the fuckers and then I'll tell you how serious I am.'

       I pinched and pulled mine out by the nipples again.

       She knew.

       She just had to know her exaggerated nipples would be the focus of my language and observations if she actually bared herself. And yet and too, she didn't see how it was practical to stop me.

       She tried to find reason.

       A reason she could divert me again.

       'Very well. OK. I'll co-operate. If you're going to rape me, I'll co-operate. I won't fight. Fight you.'

       'Isn't that generous of you? What if I don't want you to

co-operate? What if I want you to fight?'

       'No. No. How? Why? No. I'll do as you say. I'm surrendering.'

       'What if it's more fun for me if you don't?'

       'No. Fun. Fun? You think this is fun? Terrorizing me like this. You're sick.'

       I pretended to react violently.

       I grabbed her hair, two handed, and spun her around. She whirled on her ass cheeks and I latched onto the line securing her ankles and jerked way up on it. Her skirt rode above her knees and I caught the first fine glimpse of her satin silk panties.

       I near drove my fist into them.

       I pulled up harder and her skirt fell above her hips. I sliced through the waist band with my knife and pulled it right off her.

       Her hips were three times fucking magnificent.

       Her bush crinkled the front fabric of her undies and her labia showed mounded and creased.

       I near swooned at the sight.

       I owned it and she didn't know how much of it was mine.

       I owned all of her.

Page 13.

       I had to give my head a shake to keep from plowing her.

       I had no such compunction nor restraint about her gut.

       I belted her stomach and she doubled over gasping for air.

       I went round back of her and clamped onto the bottom of her blouse and ripped it up with a tear. It took three pulls to split it in half up her back and it hung off her arms down the sides.

       That fucking brassier drove me nuts crazy. I swear it was four inches wide at the clasps and there were four of them. The fucking thing could of held up two ripe watermelons.

       But the bigger thing was, the violence had started.

       She'd been slugged and hit.

       She'd never been struck in her life before, at least not in anger nor lust and she couldn't breath because her stomach wanted to throw up.

       I put the knife tip to her temple to calm her and slit the arms open of her blouse and tossed them aside.

       She was only in her underwear.

       When she'd selected them in the morning, which she carefully did to be sure they were coordinated, it never occurred to her she'd be showing them off to a madman, taking them off for an armed lunatic.

       She paid a lot for her intimates and they made her feel good, like sexy, like a sexual woman.

       And she was getting the picture.

       Not only did I seem an angry man, (which I wasn't) I seemed an insane man, which I suppose I was.

       Regardless, what she had in front of me was making me nuts crazy and boiling my crotch.

       The violence was erecting her nipples.

       They pushed through the fabric of her bra and they kept growing and growing and more. It was some how like she had gumdrops glued to the ends of her tits. Big juicy red gum drops.

       My eyes widened in amazement.

       'What the? What the holy fuck? What's with your nipples?'

       'Shut up. Leave me alone.'

       'Uh? What? Are you fucking kidding? I gotta see those.'

       It was so predictable because she'd heard it before from other men, just not so crudely put and not on a first date.

Page 14.

       I went for the back of her bra and she wouldn't have any part of it.

       She jerked and twisted away from my unlatching fingers.

       'Fine. Fine. Fuck you. Fine. Have it your way.'

       I grabbed onto a cup at the front and pulled it way out. I sliced through the end with my knife, a neat three inch cut and let it snap back. Her bras cost over a hundred dollars so she didn't appreciate me mutilating one of them, and a favorite one at that.

       The satin sliced like silk.

       I let it settle back and out popped the beetle.

       Out popped the June bug.

       The thimble.

       Fuck you could have landed a plane on it or at least danced on it.

       'Jesus fuck. And Jesus fucking Chist, I've never seen a nipple as big as that. What the fuck, you have implants or something, like nipple botox?'

       She was almost approaching a level that would constitute a deformity, but God, what a deformity to have.

       She wouldn't say about herself.

       She was furious I was degrading her special endowment and as I said, that I'd busted her bra.

       Finally she gave me the verbal finger.

       'Go to Hell, you goof.'

       Now anyone who's familiar with my other accounts knows that's the one word which jerked my chain. I didn't care about psychopath or mutilating, murdering degenerate rapist or best of all demented serial killer, but goof, it was from my prison days where guys got the shiv for using it. Anyhow, I'd made note of it and she'd pay for her goof.

       'Not likely. Not likely before I see the other one. More like Heaven, I'd say. Fucking nipple Heaven. And by the way, you're the asshole goof.'

       I shot my hand into the slice in her cup and tried to rip the bra off her. The thing was stronger than a tent and it wouldn't tear nor give. Even the hooks at the back were super duty, like Ford trucks, and nothing broke free.

       But I wasn't frustrated. I was having a ball as I pulled her around the room by her cup like she was on a really short, tight leash. She tried to make her tied legs go fast and faster as I led her around, like by the nose, but so much better and then it flashed to me.

Page 15.

       Why so?

       Why the fuck not?

       There was a heavy oak table off to the side and I guided her towards it and smacked her skull into the corner.

       She staggered and reeled all rubber legs and tumbled back onto her ass.

       She was dazed but not knocked out so it was easy to slice her bra open between the cups.

       I have no idea how I kept from slicing one of her humungos off right away. I mean, I knew I'd get to them later, and off they'd come with the scalpel or viced between my incisors, but the temptation was only interrupted by the sight of her spread crotch.

       I had to get out of my briefs.

       My cock was binding against the fabric and was bent because it was so constricted.

       My cock was bent and so was I.

       She could see I was ready like a nuclear guided missile.

       I pulled her by the ears so she was laid out flat on her back.

       I still had the handy dandy knife

       I laid it across my boner and lifted my pecker higher so as to salute her.

       She knew she was in for it.

       She just didn't want to get stabbed or sliced or sliced off.

       'So here's the deal, goof bitch. You know where this is going. You just fucking know. So you better fuck like your life depends on it.'

       I crouched down and sat on her knees.

       I gazed at her crotch, into her crotch, still hiding under her panties.

       What match was satin for a knife blade?

       I touched the knife tip to her panty leg hole and wriggled it inside. She was froze. She was afraid I'd slice her lips. (Later, my dear. Later for that.)  I gave a downward out thrust and cut a slit in the gusset of the crotch fabric. I leaned forward and kissed the cut.

       She smelled like a fuck.

Page 16.

       I hooked my fingers into it and tore the crotch wide open. All her privacy was invaded.

       I laid the knife gently along her bush and she had plenty.

       Silky brunette with a touch of grey.

       She was in her mid-forties so I guess it was allowed.

       I fixated on her nipples.

       They near blinded me with lust.

       She twisted her face to the side so she wouldn't have to watch me leering. I was surely doing that but I was calculating too.

       Should I go for it right away or wait until later?

       I had come prepared.

       I always did.

       And I had been an Eagle Scout.

       Proficiency at organization.

       Patience was my virtue but sometimes I couldn't wait.

       In my rape kit briefcase I had several three inch spiral galvanized finishing nails.

       I had to let her know her nipples would be principal targets for my excesses and they were in the gravest of danger.

       Of course, there were two of them but they couldn't help each other.

       I leaned on her pussy with the palm of my hand to push myself up off her.

       I felt her lips squish and crunch.

       It must have been her clit that crunched against her pubic bone.

       I got to my stash and selected a lucky nail.

       Everyone's heard of a lucky penny.

       Who'd ever heard of a lucky nail?

       I showed it to her proudly like it was an accomplishment, just having it.

       'No. No. God, no. What's that for?'

       I crawled down to sit on top of her, mostly on her belly and laid it in her valley. My cock was right there pointing to it.

       I placed my hands firmly to her head, each side to pin her face and leaned in for my first serious, invasive kiss.

       Her lips were hard and resistant so I bit her lower one.

       I licked her blood off and so did she.

       'Let's try that again.'

       She kissed nice and surrendered.

       She wasn't stupid.

       Quite pragmatic, you might say.

       She was about to get royally freaked.

       No matter how much she cooperated.

Page 17.

       'I want to put it through one of those.'

       I nipple pointed to her.

       'You're crazy. You're totally crazy insane.'

       'Only one, that'll do.'

       I gave her an appropriate demented toothy grin.

       'I don't care which one. In fact, you can chose. I'll let you have that honor.'

       'You're insane. You're completely mad if you think I'll ever do that.'

       'Ever's a long time, sweets. I've got for-ever. Do you?'

       'Go to Hell. You're worse than nuts.'

       I gazed on her distress all knowing and giddy. I could hardly swallow I was so pumped.

       God it felt good to freak her.

       And I so loved playing a clit off against nipples.

       That was the serious persuasion.

       'I think you will. I think you'll do it, - eventually.'

       'No I won't. No I will not. I told you you'd be crazy if you think I will. That you can make me.'

       I cupped and massaged my balls.

       She gave me her best disgusted look.

       'So what about that?'

       I motioned to her vagina.

       'What? Oh. Like what?'

       'How about that? What you got in there?'

       The horror waved across her face and her brain numbed.

       'No. No. God, no. This can't be happening. Not to me. No, it's not possible.'

       I leaned in to kiss her and whispered, 'This is your wide awake nightmare. That's who I am. So what'll it be?'

       I set the nail into her belly button.

       She twisted to throw it off.

       It landed a foot away.

       I decided I really needed to fuck her before I stuck her.

       I started to mount her like a slithering snake or a wanton weasel.

Page 18.

       I could smell her fear.

       I could taste her revulsion.

       I could smell her cunt even more.

       And the piss, I still had to wash off the crisp dried piss.

       I made a production out of it. Not a Broadway scale but an amateur night sized one.

       I got a hot pail of water, too hot really for a person, and terry cloth face towels. I washed all up and down her legs. When I got to her labia I near scrubbed her cervix.

       She was less than amused but her canal had never been cleaner, nor more raw.

       Super scrub boy. That was me.

       You'd have thought I'd used a scouring pad.

       SOS. SOS. Danger. Help needed. SOS.

       Somehow she'd managed to dismiss that I really intended to nail nail her.

       'If you do this, please promise me you were just kidding about the nail thing. The nail thingy. Please. Please promise.'

       She thought by calling it a thingy, she somehow made it less threatening, more benign and perhaps less real.

       'Oh, I was kidding alright. I was kidding when I said I'd only use one.'

       Her face collapsed.

       Her spirit and hopes went with it.

       I buried my face in her bush and licked the inside pink of her labia.

       God she tasted like ripe-rape-cunt-honey-candy.

       I burrowed my index and middle fingers into her until I scratched against her cervix. I poked at the indentation in the middle of her do-nut, the center of her feminine circle.

       'You know, this is where I should stick the nail. Where I should shove it in.'

       She wasn't partial to cervical rape. She wanted me to stay at her lips. Bang the clit but stay away from her oven door, the doorway to her babies.

       She was too old to have any more, really. But it was symbolic. It was where all three of her kids had once been.

Page 19.

       I kissed her belly and looked in her eyes to be sure she understood.

       'No. No. No. God no. Please. Please. Please. You'll make it bleed. I could bleed to death.'

       'Yeah.' I said with enthusiasm. 'You think so? Fucking right.'

       'Don't be so unhuman and heartless.'

       'It's inhuman, bitch, not unhuman.'

       They both were the same to her.

       'What about into your clit then? You know, through your clitoris, your love knot?'

       She wasn't sure which was worse, if any.

       'You can't be serious. Nobody could be serious about that.'

       'Does this feel like I'm kidding?'

       I dug my nail, my finger nail, into her vix.

       She yoweled, like yelled and howeled.

       'You bastard. You inhuman retard. Don't.'

       'Too late for that, I've creased you.'

       'You're not even a person.'

       'No? So then? So what about this then?'

       I jerked my hand out and pinched her clit viciously, twisting and pulling while I clamped.

       The blood rushed in and she sponged up.

       'And does that feel like I'm kidding?'

       She was swooning from the compression.

       A crushed clit would drive pretty well any live woman mad and she had to imagine a punctured and pierced one.

       I still needed to fuck her before I stuck her.

       Fuck before stuck.

       I glued my thumbs to her labia and pressed them way up to distort them up the her main bush. Her pink peaked out red and inviting, a long stretched slit of juice.

       'You don't mind if I lick this, do you? Look how rich and smooth it is. All shiny, almost like greasy. You fucking lubricate? That what you've done? In anticipation? You all wet?'

       'Fuck off. Fuck off or just get it over with and fuck me.'

       'Well. Well. And well. There's an invitation I can't pass up. Bet you never thought, this morning, you'd be asking some pervert to fuck you. No you didn't, did you?'

Page 20.

       'You're disgusting.'

       'Yeah, but I'm good at it.' I gloated. 'Aren't I?'

       'You're disgusting and you're not a pervert. You're worse than a pervert. To be a pervert you'd have to be human and you're not.'

       'But this looks like a reasonable male dick, like a human one, doesn't it? It doesn't look like a facsimile? Or a fake? Maybe a little puny, but real.'

       She considered my conversation and observations inane and just wanted me to get my raping her over with.

       Go figure, she was anxious to be raped.

       And that was when I knew I really and truly had her.

       There was nothing of her I didn't own.

       She only wanted me to rape her because if I didn't I'd have something worser lined up for her. It was a pecking order of potential atrocities.

       I preferred to consider it a pecker order.

       She relaxed as I mounted her.

       She surrendered even more as I entered her.

       Even my thrusting couldn't disturb nor excite her.

       She was too obvious.

       She was too smart by half which made her doubly stupid.

       I knew what she was up to.

       She couldn't fool me.

       The bitch was obvious and an amateur at the rape business so I knew exactly what her approach was.

       She'd taken that self-defense training shit put on by a rape crisis center whereby if a woman absolutely knows she cannot avoid the dong, she's to surrender. She's to step outside of herself. Float outside of herself so that it's not happening to her but just to one of her orifices. She was to render it impersonal and not take it as an attack on her identity. She was more than her vagina.

       Well fuck, she was pretty good at it but I was better at crashing her back to her reality.

       I wasn't pumping wildly, just steady and deep as I buried my face into her hair and tried to kiss her. She considered my kisses almost more of an intrusion and invasive than my dick in her cunt. Kisses were more personal and like carried the added emotional content and she refused to share that with me. She would not give up that part of herself at least not without a fight.

Page 21.

       She was tranced like.

       I raised myself on my hands, still pumping but very slowly, more like wiggling and riggling inside her and slapped her face hard. I pinched her jaw.

       'You with me? You still here? You feeling this?'

       She wouldn't answer to any of my questions.

       There was one sure way to find out.

       The nail was nearby within reach and I selected it up and got the point to her nipple tip. It was more like a nipple plateau, she was so big and flat and round.

       I twisted the point to indent her.

       'No. Shit no. What do you think you're doing?'

       'I'm waking you up. I don't want you drifting away from me while I hump you. I want you right here aware and accounted for.'

       'OK. OK. OK. Don't, OK. I'm here. I can feel what you're doing.' She whined.

       'I'll bet you can. I'll wager my dick you can now.'

       She let me ride her normal and after fifteen minutes I filled what I could of her tunnel. She was pretty big but not overly sloppy so I was sure I got some onto her cervix.

       I collapsed in bliss on top, staying inside her until the lust in me subsided.

       She laid there spent and assaulted.

       And she could officially join the exclusive club of rape victims. It wasn't that there weren't lots of them. It just was there weren't that many really beautiful ones. She was an upper one percent-er, like point zero, zero, zero, one from the top. That was her exclusivity

       I pushed up and looked down on her. Her eyes were closed tight and tears adorned her cheeks.

       She was a rape victim and nothing could ever change that.

       It was the new and improved her.

       'Time for the nail, bitch. Time for you to chose.'

Page 22.

       Her eyes popped open and she pleaded.

       'You can't. You cant. You can't. No, you can't be serious. You've just raped me and violated me. Let that be enough.'

       'You cunt. You cunt. You cunt.' I mimicked and mocked her.

       'In your dreams. In your fucking idealized dreams. Alice. Who you think you are? Alice in Wonderland?'

       Her real name was Naomi, like an ancient biblical name and she was a fine upstanding Christian woman laying flat to the floor on her ass with the Devil's cock up her cunt.

       And her Jesus prayers were proving useless.

       I went to pull out of her and she clamped down her vaginal muscles to keep me inside her.

       So wasn't that a delicious dichotomy?

       She didn't want my cock in her but she didn't want it out of her either.

       As long as our crotches were fused together, she figured I couldn't enlist the nail.

       And she was partly, pointedly right.

       It wasn't that I couldn't. I wouldn't. I wanted to see what I was doing. How it punctured the tactile strength of her skin, broke into and through all the tiny nipple erection muscles.

       She clamped on my shaft like she had teeth in her pussy and was determined I should stay stuck on her.

       I slid my hands under her ass and gripped vice tight.

       I drew back slightly, as much as she'd allow and rammed up knowing full well I'd bunch up against her cervix.

       I was still semi-hard enough.

       It startled her and her muscles reacted and I yanked my prick free from her cunt jaws.

       She glared up at me horrified and expectant.

       I leaned my one hand into her soft belly and she got the first of her cunt punches. Not a hay maker, not a clit breaker, but hard enough to pain her loins.

Page 23.

       Her mouth flew open in outrageous disbelief and I rose up and stood by and over her.

        How dare I? How dare me? How dare I punch her in her defenceless vagina. Who would have had the nerve? I think she over-acted it a bit like for melodramatic effect. It was all too sweet anyhow, how she milked it. She really thought she could elicit my sympathy. I was the one who'd punched her. Why should I feel sorry for her?

       I was the towering master and she was the shit-for-brains slave having mild convulsions. I still thought she was over acting the impact of my first fist to her cunt.

       Fist to her cunt.

       That had to be it.

       Just the thought of it, never mind the reality of it, was a supreme transgression against all womanhood.

       To me it was great boxing and sparing practice.

       She curled herself into a fetal ball and I felt like pissing on her or shitting in her face. I'd stuff her ears full of shit.

       I knelt down and touched my hand to the round of her shoulder and she flinched and squeezed into herself even tighter. At least she hadn't reacted like I'd burned her which wasn't a bad idea for later anyway.

       I could feel the notches of her curved spine. I picked a spot three vertebrae up from her tail bone and punched her a near paralyzing blow. She shrieked loud and up fast.

       Her body exploded open and she twisted to see if I was up for striking her again.

       I had my handy dandy knife in my hand instead.

       I held it above her chest like I was going to stab her.

       She begged ever so softly, and sincerely, pretty much a whisper.

       'No. No, God. No. Please don't kill me. Don't stab me.'

       She really thought that was what I wanted to do then.

       It would have been a merciful favor to her but, of course, she had no way of knowing that.

Page 24.

       I wrapped my arm tight around her head and placed the knife tip to the lower part of her eye socket.

       'What? No, what? What are you doing? Doing now? Don't.'

       'If you don't chose for the nail I'm gonna cut your fucking eyes out.'

       She was less than a fraction away from losing her depth perception. With one eye gone she could still see but wouldn't be able to judge where things were.

       It takes two eyes for the brain to triangulate.

       'On the count of three, bitch. I'm gonna jam your jelly. One.. Two..'

       'No. No. OK. Yes, you win. My nipple, my right nipple. Put your God dammed nail into my right nipple.'

       'Not quite right, sweets.'

       'No. Yes. How? Why? When, you said it, when?'

       'Through it. In one side and out the other. Hurts twice as much.' I seemed so satisfied to tell her that.

       She shuddered.

       'You still up for that?'

       I jabbed the knife ever so slightly to the white of her eyeball.

       'Yes. No, don't. Yes, OK. Do what ever you have to do, however you want to, just don't blind me.'

       'I'm proud of you. I really am. You're smart. I knew you were.'

       I leaned forward and gave her a solid kiss of appreciation.

       I flicked the knife tip to her right nipple.

       'So this is the one. This is the one you volunteered. The sacrificial lamb. Bah. Bah. Hah. Hah. Good on you. Bad on it. That was a joke, you know?'

       She wasn't laughing.

       Not even at me, how stupid and facile I could be.

       She was back to trembling and trying to escape outside of herself.

       'Oh God. Oh God. Take me somewhere else. Take him somewhere else. Make him be where I'm not.'

       She should have stopped there.

       'Make him impotent, like the goof that he is. Make him dissolve away into a puddle of goof crap.'

       Goof. Goof. Goof. How could she be so stupid not to have clued in from my previous reaction?

       But then again, maybe that's exactly what she'd done and she meant to antagonize me.

Page 26.

       Regardless, she'd misplayed her hand and God wouldn't lend her one to help.

       'Fuck you. OK. If that's the way you want it. Fuck you. OK, you'll see.'

       She hated the sound of that.

       I rolled her onto her side.

       Her ample right breast laid along the wood floor and her left breast flopped down along near on top of it. But her nipple, the one that mattered, wasn't positioned right for a sideways through and through puncture.

       I fired up and got me a scrap piece of two by four wood a foot long. They had it by their fireplace for kindling. I laid it under the underside of her breast and her nipple lay flatter along the wood. It looked like a fucking red-brown thimble on its side. It was pretty well that size too.

       I took the nail in two hands and laid the point half way along the tube her bud formed. She was erecter than an erector set.

       I pressed the tip in sideways and arced the nail up to be at a right (piercing) angle to its target.

       I pressed.

       She squawked.

       I pressured.

       She wailed.

       I turned and rotated the point.

       Her nipple squished out flat.

       She popped a tiny bubble of tit blood.

       I wiggled in down in.

       She leaked some milky white fluid that mixed with the blood bubble.

       It seemed all of her nerve endings were on fire, when for real, only a few million of them were.

       I drove in for serious.

       The nail was big and round and jagged. It had a rough coating of galvanized zinc on it.

       Galvanizing being a coating of zinc applied to steel so it won't rust. She was in for the metal poisoning.

       It cut and serrated.

Page 26.

       It was half way into her erection.

       Half way in meant half way still to come out.

       And that was the pointed rub.

       It hurt like ten times worse to come out than to go in. It had to break through the skin from the inside out and that pain was beyond excruciating and exquisite.

       I shoved her a hard, grinding twist and the point was at the point to exit. The nail was three quarters of an inch into her. The blood was minimal but a beauty to behold and she leaked more of the milky shit as the tiny tubes from her milk sacks, her lobules, got severed and punctured.

       I let go of the nail.

       It hung there like a spectacular javelin, an arrow to the heart of her milk factory.

       Everything about her body was clenched.

       I pulled her up by the face.

       I got her to standing up.

       'What? No. How? What are you doing? Why haven't you finished?'

       'I want you to finish. That's what I want.'

       'No, you're not possible. No, it's impossible.'

       She didn't mean because her hands were still tied behind her back, she meant because it'd hurt too much.

       Still she had to ask.

       'How can I like this?'

       She showed me her wrists.

       'I'm going to untie you. I'm going to free your hands and you're gonna finish the job yourself.'

       She perked up.

       She tried to hide it bit I saw her bit of hope.

       Was I really stupid enough to free her hands?

       That's what she hoped and thought.

Page 27.

       She didn't care what it cost her. If I did, she'd attack me. She'd annihilate me and drive one of my own nails through my balls, and not just one, all that I had. And she'd see how I liked to be blinded.       

       She was so ready to revenge me.

       'Over here.' I instructed her.

       She shuffled just barely.

       Why did I want to move her?

       'On the floor. Down on the floor. Sit down.'

       I helped fold her ass to the ground.

       'Lean against the table leg. Put the back of your head against it. Right there.'

       She looked all around trying to figure out my intent.

       I cut off a three foot length of the nylon line and encircled it around her throat and around the sturdy table leg. I pulled it tight, just about to choke her and tied it off. She could barely move her head without strangling.

       My strategy was obvious.

       There was no risk to cut her hands loose and I did so with ease.

       She made a feeble grab for me but her throat was constricted too much for her effort to matter.

       I slid away from her and got my chair, that was the one of her chairs, to watch.

       'Any time. Get to it. Anytime you want to start.'

       She tried to look down to see her nipple but more had to pull her tit up to get the nail into view. She got her hands onto the spiral part and tried to shove it forward.

       That was the problem for her. She knew as she was going to try and even though she steeled herself plenty, her nipple nerves screamed out and she just couldn't do it. The point was right there, set to break through and out and the skin was pulled white, stretched into a tiny hump. She tried to wrench it out, at least to get the hole broken through but that wouldn't work either.

       Each time she tried she cried out and let off her hold so her tit flopped and jiggled back down. Shit was she arousing me.

       I could have watched it forever because it seemed like forever she was taking.

       She needed more incentive.

       And that was my specialty.

Page 28.

       I got me another same sized nail.

       I displayed it to her face.

       'You know where this one's going?'

       She mewled and protested and could only say, 'No. No. No.'

       I supposed as in 'No, don't do it.' and not, 'No, I don't know where it's going. But I know you're going to Hell because it's where you belong since you came from there.'

       The Devil's spawn.

       How accurate.

       She tried to wrestle with me but all I had to do was pull out on her arms and she'd start to neck choke.

       I looked her dead in the eyes.

       She was still in there.

       Her mind wasn't fried, yet.

       'This one's going in there.'

       I pressed my knuckles to her labia.

       'It's going right into your clit.'

       She struggled harder which only made her choke harder and I stepped back to watch her fester.

       Her brain was near to frying and her resolve being eradicated.

       'OK. I'll do it. OK.'

       She took in a great big gulp of gumption and twisted the nail a fraction out the other side of her nipple. Like God and shit that had to hurt. I have to say it took super human feminine strength and resolve to do such a thing to her own breast.

       'Good girl. Fucking spectacular. Excellent excellence. Don't stop now.You go girl. You fucking go. You're almost there.'

       She gave a pitiful, guttural screech and drove the nail right through. It stuck out an inch the far side and the blood dripped onto her belly and ran down into her bush. It collected there like a mat.

       I had to get closer.

       I got up from my throne.

       I leaned in to fondle her.

       I raised her breast up and held her nipple a few inches from my stare.

Page 29.

       Fuck, was it the most beautiful sight I could imagine. The only better one would be the nail through her clit.

       She'd thought I meant I'd do her clit only if she didn't finish up on the nipple job. Then I'd do her only if.

       She was fucking delusional and wholly mistaken.

       The clit nail was for calling me a goof.

       It was her goof nail.

       I kissed her face.

       I kissed her eyes.

       And her open, wet mouth.

       'OK, take a deep breath. I want to push this another inch through.'

       She tried to plead with her face which was the sweetest and most sincere I'd ever seen her look.

       And her words failed her.

       What use was it saying, 'No don't' a hundred million times?

       I clamp pinched her bud and jerked the nail the extra amount I wanted. I pulled out on it and her tit stretched way out like a water filled elastic balloon.

       I let it flop lose and back down.

       I was pumped to fuck her again, the whole process had been so titillating and erotic. No part of her tit wasn't titillating.

       'I'm gonna tie your hands off again. You understand? Behind your back again.'

       Needless to say she didn't want that but choices were not hers to have.

       I got her wrists re-bound but didn't release her neck tie.

       Instead I wrapped another line tight around the lower part of her gut. I really sank it into her belly and I tied it off super tight.

       She was not amused and knew to be extra afraid.

       I sat on her ankles.

       My weight hurt her heels.

       I showed her the nail again, proudly.

       Like, look what I have, ha ha.

       That you don't have, ha ha.

       But I'll share it with you. ha ha, ha ha.

       She hated my stupid humor.

Page 30.

       I leaned on her knees and lowered my face into her crotch.

       She tried to buck me off her legs but it hurt and choked her too much.

       I pried her labia aside and thumbed the top of her crease.

       Ever so slowly, magnificently, she started to engorge. It was a reflex reaction she could not control.

       I knew just where and how to stimulate her.

       Nothing hard and cruel. Soft and gentle and flicky.

       Tease. Tease. Love.

       I could be an excellent lover when I wanted to be or needed to be.

       I pinch jabbed her expanding clit and laid my face into her lap.

       Her tits hung down above me and flopped onto my head. I twisted the nail already through her nipple, for fun, and she shrieked.

       She was so perfectly positioned and expertly restrained she knew she couldn't avoid the stab to her vagina.

       I licked her like a dog licks another dog's ass hole. I sniffed her and nuzzled her and readied the point.

       I touched it to the center of her spongy mass. It was grown the size of a small stunted cherry.

       How appropriate.

       Cherry. Cherry. Cherry.

       How many years and fucks since she'd lost hers?

       Everything was rigid.

       Everything was frozen.

       It was a spectacular moment in time.

       How often does a woman's clit, a beautiful woman's love center get lanced by an oversized construction nail?

       Only in America, you say?

       Hows about, only in Canada too?

       I indented the point into her, but no slippery skin broke.

       I pinched harder.

       And pushed harder.

       She thrashed  harder.

       And started to gurgle her protests. She'd been silent and too traumatized to squawk for a bit.

       Then she had to.

       The pain left her no choice.

Page 31.

       'Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. No. No, you cannot. No you can't. You can't do this to me.You cannot. It's not human. It's unhuman. It's inhuman. You have to have a soul somewhere.'

       'You know what sweets, you're right. I do have a soul. I have a sole mission and right now it's this.'

       I jabbed.

       Her clit blood spurted into my face. It near soaked my eye ball. I had to wink to see what I was doing the rest. But I could feel it good too. It's just that I wanted to see.

       I jabbed it a half inch in and turned to twist it headed in another direction. Her clit puffed up as I drove it the next fraction.

       You could have heard her screams in the next county. Luckily her ranch was isolated and no one was about to report me nor to rescue her. As I went to finish the puncture, she mercifully passed out.

       That was OK, just fine.

       That was nice. It gave me the opportunity to re-position her.

       Like better for better puncturing access.

       I cut the lines securing her to the table leg.

       They'd left deep ridges in her perfect skin.

       I dragged her to the side of the table and hoisted her up onto it. Her legs hung over the edge, at her knees, like I wanted them to. I tied her ankles off tight to each corner of the table. To each sturdy leg, separating her and exposing her cunt better. I released her wrist tie and re-tied her arms pulled tight way above her head. She was fastened mightily to the table top, like on a sacrificial alter, and had no where to move.

       Part of my standard rape kit was my little bottle of smelling salts, the reviving ones.

       I whiffed them under her nose and she came to protesting.

       'What? What the? No. No. God. What are you doing? What do you think you're doing now? To me?'

       'I'm gonna finish what I started and then I'm going to fuck you again and then, and then, then along came Jones, like in the song. I'm gonna give you a special treat.'

       She suspected I meant I'd be giving myself a special one.

       Something only I would enjoy.

       There was no good Santa in me.

Page 32.

       There wasn't much for her to do.

       She could holler and rail but she couldn't move but barely and everything of hers was way out in the open, her vagina spread and her tits not to be protected.

       I could not think of a better position for her to be in, unless it was hanging from her neck, titless, with my cock in her as I fucked her to death.

       I kissed her mouth lips and then her cunt lips and began to finish the clit puncture. It was immensely satisfying and easy to grab it just perfect and I drove the nail another inch into her swollen love mass.

       Then I did a truly vicious thing. A truly despicable thing even by my perverted standards.

       I twisted way around on the nail and drove it through and down into her vaginal walls. I stuck it right through her canal,  side to side, like puncturing a garden hose, side to side which meant when I'd fuck her, my cock would be sliding back and forth across it. And of course, that would be stretching her twisted clit with each of my glorious strokes.

       I could not think of anything more perfect as far as a cunt rape goes as I readied my erect dick and head.

       I had to use the salts three more times and finally got her to listen. Her face was lolling side to side and the tears squirted from her eyes. Her mouth was twisted in fear.

       'So looky here. Here's the deal. I'm going to fuck you now. Fuck you again and I'm going to be really hard, brutal. Really vicious. I know how to be, you know, I've had practice. If you pass out you get the surprise. If you don't you don't.'

       Her eyes were glazed and her mind addled but she sort of got it, my drift. She comprehended it. She had to endure the fuck, the violent rape and if she was awake at the end of it, whatever else I had planned she wouldn't have to find out.

       If she couldn't endure it, she didn't want to know what I had in mind.

Page 33.

       And she truly and for real didn't.

       Want to know.

       No fucking woman anywhere would have.

       I climbed up on the table to rejoin and enjoin her.

       I smacked my hand to her tummy and watched her belly button jiggle. I dripped a goober of my spittle in to it to see if I could fill it up. I half did.

       I showed her my cock, all majestic and powerful and quite average, and pulled myself up high on the table.

       What the?

       Where the?

       I was going the wrong way.

       I aimed my crotch for the nail in her nipple and lowered my hips onto her. I bore my full weigh onto her squished tit and arched my back. I jerked back and forth and gave her a two minute tit fuck. Man that felt good and I near to came as I could feel the nail under my boner.

       Fast like a bunny, I got down to her pussy and fed my boner knob into her. I was only two inches in when I felt the metal piercing her canal. It tickled my head like crazy fuck. The feel of the bloody steel was like nothing I'd ever felt before, because I'd never done it before. Needless to say, other women to come had it in store for them.

       I grabbed onto her tits to use as handles and ram shoved my way the rest of the way into her.

       I checked to see she was still awake.

       Her face was so contorted it would have made a great, scary Halloween mask of agony. But then somehow God gave her strength and she stayed with the program.

       I crashed my knob into her cervix.

       Again and again.

       And ram fucked her away like a crazed bucking bronco on oats laced with steroids or more like PCP.

       I was dusting her angel.

       I was trying to womb fuck her.

       To utilize her uterus.

Page 34.

       I was jack-hammer Jim, jamming away at her and her whole skeleton jerked back and up on the table.

       Arching my back even more, I threw my legs way up in the air, like an octopus waving its tentacles at the ceiling and gave out with the most primeval, holler and cry imaginable as I spunked enough jizz into her to make a dozen babies.

       I collapsed exhausted.

       I'd lasted fifteen minutes.

       I peered up at her face.

       She was conscious and triumphant.

       I laid on her, in her, five minutes more and extracted myself slowly. My balls and shaft were covered in clit blood and some even graced my knees. I was pretty sure my knob head had some cervix blood on it.

       I stood up almost unsteady, I'd expended so much energy and force but I managed to pace around pre-occupied.

       She waited for me to untie her.

       Shit and fuck and shit again.

       She'd earned her reprieve.

       But did it mean I had to grant it to her, like a parole board?

       That was the beauty, thus the intoxication, of absolute, discretionary power.

       I had all the choices.

       Discretion was solely mine.

       No way.

       No fucking way she was getting out of it.

       My surprise.

       I could change the rules to suit my wants.

       The cock wants what the pecker head wants.

       It was capricious and wanton and immoral and I didn't give a fuck.

       At least not another one right then.

       She could tell something was off.

       She could tell I was a reneger.

       A liar and a cheat.

       Besides being a fornicator and a low-life.

Page 35.

       Nothing smelled right and it was all about to go wrong.

       Wrong. Wrong. So completely wrong.

       I stood over her face.

       She had to look up at my balls.

       She tried to reason with me.

       She thought I was going to piss on her.

       The thought entered my dick but I'd pass for later when I could piss in her mouth too.

       I really wanted to kiss her and kiss her and break her.

       She tried to reason with me.

       'Let me go. Go. Go. Please let me. I did what you said. I stayed strong. I stood strong. I laid strong, so please, please just let me go.You've hurt me enough. So please.'

       More was never enough.

       Didn't the materialists know that? The consumers ever chasing the next big thing and little gadget?

       Nor the rape victims held by mutilating, psychopathic, murdering rapists?

       More was never good enough.

       'Look, so here's the deal dear. I'm gonna keep you. I want to keep you. You're too nice and special and sweet and a fabulous fuck to let you go, so I'm going to take you somewhere else to hold on to you.'

       'No. no, God no. No, you can't. I won't let you. No, for God's sake, you'll just abuse me and kill me. I know it.'

       I couldn't deny it and my look gave away the pleasure of my guilt.

       'Think whatever you want but you have no choice so that's the way it's gotta be.'

       She wailed more about the injustice of it all, me not keeping my word, and I tuned her out until she spent her outrage.

       'So OK, I got to get you ready. But there's one last thing, the surprise.'

       She thought the fact I was up for transporting her, kidnapping her, that was it, the surprise.

       It wasn't.

       She could only have wished it was.

Page 36.

       'I want my nail back, I want one of my nails back.'

       He brain fried.

       'Uh? What? No. No, you have more.'

       'I want one of the ones in you back.'

       She knew it would be unbearable removing either one of the imbedded ones.

       How could I keep upping the ante?

       She had no clue of an idea.

       Not even a hint of a clue.

       'Please. Please, no. No listen. I can't. You can't.'

       'Can't? Who can't? You have to know by now I can do whatever the fuck I want to and to you.'

       'No. No. No, you can't.'

       'Come on now. You know they can't stay in you forever. You know they have to come out some time so one might as well be now.'

       Somehow she'd gotten it into her head and hopes that God would see to her rescue and a surgeon, in a hospital, would remove the offending metal.

       She could dream in technicolor and black and white and even in stereo 3D.

       'No. God no. I need a doctor to remove them. No you can't be serious.'

       'Look, I'll be generous. I'll give you a choice. It's pretty elementary. I can kill you if you want them to stay in or I can let you live if you agree to let me have one back.'

       It was my first mention of murdering, the possibility of slaughtering her.

       She played the options over and calmly apprised me.

       'I don't want to die. I want to live. I don't want you to kill me or cause me to die. I love my husband and my grown kids. And my grand kids, so I have too much to live for.'

       I think she meant she has so much to live for, not too much but her brain wasn't working as well as it should have been.

       She continued, 'I don't want to die. I don't. I don't. Please. I just, just, just don't.'

       She was looking for justice amongst all her just's.

Page 37.

       She blurted and burst into tears.

       It was all pent up.

       The weight of her hopes had collapsed in on themselves.

       She sobbed uncontrollably and her shoulders and her breasts shook and trembled. She needed to stop that with the jiggling tits.

       I got the sense she meant it.

       I almost took pity on her and she must have seen it in my face, maybe even in my eyes.

       God was I an Oscar winner actor.

       'I can see it. I can see you understand. I can see you know I deserve to live.'

       I patted her cheek condescendingly.

       'Whatever you say. I know you're sincere and I know you're scared but I still want a nail back, so which one'll it be?'

       There was no doubt in my imagination she'd chose the nipple one.

       She paused and wavered.

       'Look, like I said, I'm being generous. I'm giving you the choice. I could chose or I could want both of them back.'

       She chose her nipple one.

       Everything was set.

       She was gathering her strength for the extraction.

       Everything was set.

       Almost.

       'You got any booze? Maybe you should have a stiff shot for this.'

       Of all things, they didn't drink.

       'You want some aspirin then?'

       What a stupid suggestion for a remedy but she really didn't know what was coming down the pike for her.

       She didn't want a pill.

       Not even a lethal one.

       She already had me to deal with.

       Without any sense of logic, I cut off a piece of the nylon line six feet long.

       She watched me like a horrified hawk confused in the smog, the dark, the dark of the abyss of my imagination.

       'No. What? What? What are you doing, now?'

Page 38.

       I approached her with the line dripping from my hand.

       It wasn't wet.

       She was greater than wide eyed, greater than saucer eyed.       

       She was a dozen full moons wide awake.

       I laid the line on her valley.

       I kissed the nail in her nipple.

       I kissed the one in her cunt.

       I licked the one in her nipple.

       I began to loop one end of the line around the nipple nail.

       I fed it under the nail on both sides of her nipple where it poked through and pulled the end off snugly.

       I was set to tie it off.

       I pulled harder and she cried out that I was compressing, pinching and twisting her nipple too tight to the nail.

       Like I didn't know it.

       She had no fucking idea.

       I knotted the line totally securely.

       I was finished tying the end off and got me my chair back and set it five feet away from her and fingered the loose end of the line.

       I took up the slack and tightened it and pulled on it a light tug and her tit pulled to the side towards me.

       I pulled harder.

       She started to strain at her wrist ties.

       I pulled harder.

       She screamed harder.

       'What in God's earth do you think you're doing?'

       'I told you I want my nail back so I'm going to rip it out of you.'

       She gave a sharp gasp and passed out from the impact of my words.

       It'd rip the whole end off her areola and how was she to abide that?

       I used the salts generously to revive her.

       'OK, sweets. Time to pull for real.'

       I truly applied the stretch.

       Two handed, I stood up for the task. I rose up to it and pulled smoothly on the line. The hole through her nipple elongated and the blood and milk rushed out to meet the table top but she wouldn't split right in half and it wouldn't come off.

Page 39.

       Talk about a rip off.

       She was being ripped off.

       If only the nipple would co-operate.

       I pulled fucking harder.

       She stretched fucking further.

       Her whole tit was almost a foot elongated.

       Or so it seemed.

       Her head thrashed uncontrollably from side to side and up and down and in circles. Hey eyes rolled wildly in their sockets.

       She didn't want to see the shape of her tit.

       I could feel it tearing.

       It was yielding.

       I could feel her nipple flesh giving up so I eased off the pressure.

       I went close up to study her, my progress.

       And what a progress it was.

       Her nipple had an oblong hole right through the side and the nail would have been loose in it except for the way the line was pinching it all together. And the thing was too, the blood enhanced the scene.

       I didn't have to rip it out.

       It was better left as it was, all the nerve endings on fire and they'd stay that way, especially... especially...

       I fingered the line and found a place to cut it. I had to use a scalpel from my rape kit and cut into her bud a little severing the line.

       She barely noticed.

       She should have noticed.

       I had no will power.

       I gazed at the torture in her face.

       She needed a kiss.

       As I touched her lips gently, I hooked my fingers around and under the nail.

       It was the nicest kiss I could have given her as I pulled out on it. I held the pressure steady.

       It completely surprised her.

       She mumbled, 'No. No, please, no. Don't.'

       Just the usual mundane shit begging.

Page 40.

       I pushed in, to bury her nipple and my knuckles into the full fatty meat of her breast.

       Her fullness engulfed my hand.

       I could feel her under ribs.

       I yanked out for real.

       For serious and for kill.

       The nail broke free and her nipple split full.

       Without the line all wrapped around it, it wasn't likely to come off and it didn't, much to my satisfaction.

       I still had two halves of a nipple to toy with and explore and, of course, tit torture.

       I even thought I might glue it back together with the Crazy Glue, or the medical stuff intended for that purpose.

       The possibilities were endless.

       So.

       So.

       And, so much for my good intentions to exercise self-control.

       She should have winced when the scalpel nicked her nip.

       The rest was pretty routine.

       Needless to say she'd passed out so it was easy to bundle her up to transport her to keep her.

       I scoffed quite a few of her clothes, the ordinary ones and the sexy ones and all of her undergarments.

       I found the cash and got five-thousand, six-hundred dollars for my effort.

       Like, I'd have to feed her to keep her alive so why shouldn't she pay for it?

       I left the house, her sanctuary, with her trussed up in my van the same way I'd gained entry.

       By the back hidden door.

       I was the back-door rapist and that had been mentioned in news coverage of my earlier exploits.

       Not the rapist nor killer parts, it was just, 'signs of a struggle and entry gained through a rear door'. That kind of general stuff.

       They were 'missing women', as went the media reports, not raped and murdered ones since no bodies nor clues had ever been found to link me to the disappearances. Yet the cops must have had their suspicions with all the missing undergarments and stuff.

       A clue that sex was in there somewhere.

Page 41.

       That was a clue they kept hidden from the press. Like something only the perp would know.

       I believe they called it 'intimate knowledge' and the term could never have been more apropos.

       So I was the back-door bastard.

       On the move again, with the most precious of cargos, as down the road we motored.

       Unnoticed and undetected.

       I never saw a cop car.

       Not even in two hours and over a hundred miles.

       Where was a cop when she needed one?

       Where was God in her world?

       Epilogue:

       I knew I shouldn't have, based on my previous track records, but I'd left her naked so I could look back and peek every so often.

       She'd regained consciousness after fifteen minutes and started to mouth off at me about how unjust it all was and how she didn't deserve it and, of course, that I should just let her go.

       I toyed with her and teased her and then saw a chance.

       She didn't like it when I pulled off on a deserted dead end road and fast fucked her, an hour into the drive.

       The sight of her dangling, split nipple made me do it.

       And she hated it more when I suckled on her deformity.

       And she couldn't believe it when I pinched on the two sides and pulled in opposite directions.

       That passed her out for another half hour.

       And she knew she didn't want to come to again.

       And when she did revive, she was starting to wish she was dead.

       All she could feel was fear.

       There was no room for anger.  I suppose it's not so unpredictable that one emotion can completely dominate the storehouse of feelings. One can overwhelm all other possibilities.       

       She was shitless scared terrified and in her entire, privileged life she had never had more reason to be so completely afraid.