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From: worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com (e. wolf)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 4 Jun 2002 14:01:58 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Crazy Jack's House - Chapter Three (M+/F+M+/nc, kidnap, torture, rape, mutilation)
Date: Wed,  5 Jun 2002 07:10:04 -0400
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Crazy Jack's House
By e. wolf

M+/F+M+/nc, kidnap, torture, rape, mutilation. All the good stuff. Do
not read this if you're easily offended or are under the legal age of
majority for where you live.


CHAPTER THREE - Training Begins

Lana's heart was racing as Crazy Jack dragged her into the bathroom, a
huge room covered in black-and-white tile. There were four stalls
along one wall, and a row of gleaming white sinks along another. Crazy
Jack opened one of the stall doors to reveal a young woman chained
against the wall. There was no toilet inside, and with horror Lana
realized that the woman was meant to serve as the toilet.
"Open your mouth wide, slave." Crazy Jack slapped her hard. "F99R-B
doesn't like her job very much, so I make a point of using her nearly
every time I have to take a shit. Don't worry, though, toilet bitch, I
only have to take a piss right now."
The girl looked relieved, and opened her jaw wide. Crazy Jack pulled
his cock out of his pants and let loose a long, golden stream into the
girl's mouth. Lana saw her neck muscles convulsing as she struggled to
gulp it all down.
When Crazy Jack had finished his piss he wiped his cock in the girl's
hair and gave her another slap, hard enough to leave a bruise.
"What do you say when I'm done using you, toilet?"
"Thank you, Master, for allowing your slave to drink your piss."
"Very good." He had a satisfied look as he gripped Lana's tits hard
and gave them a squeeze. "Now. Let's get started on your orientation."

Ten minutes later Lana found herself in a room more horrific than any
she'd seen so far on her tour. This was the training room - it said so
right on the door - and it was filled with whips, chains and
restraints as well as an assortment of ominous-looking instruments
that Lana felt sure she'd soon know the use of.
Crazy Jack led Lana to a set of what looked like gymnastics mats on
the floor.
"Let me tell you what's going to happen now, cunt. This is a two-week
orientation process. This is what happens on day one. I'm going to
assign you a trainer, and he'll be with you for the next twenty-four
hours straight. It'll be a long day for him, but that's fine. It'll be
an even longer one for you, though. Lie down on the mats, cunt."
Lana's entire body was close to convulsing from fear as she lowered
herself to the floor. Crazy Jack fastened straps to her wrists and
ankles, one behind her head and more around her back and thighs.
"Good start. I expect complete and instantaneous obedience from my
pets."
Somewhere a motor began to whir and Lana felt herself lifted off the
ground by ropes attached to the straps. Her bonds began to pull
outward, her arms and legs splayed until she was spread-eagled.
"W-what's happening?" she squealed, alarmed.
"We're going to hurt you now, Lana. We're going to hurt every part of
you. That will be your first day of training. We've divided your body
into twenty-four parts, and each part of you will be methodically
tortured for an hour. If you should happen to fall asleep - or, more
likely, to pass out - during any one part of this introduction, we
will wait for you to wake up before beginning that hour over again. Do
you understand?"
Lana's voice was weak. "Yes, Sir," she whispered.
Her trainer was Shadow, a huge man in his thirties with a shock of
thick black hair. "He's one of our longest-standing trainers," Crazy
Jack said. "His specialty is wringing screams from the throats of our
new recruits."
Shadow had a menacing look in his dark eyes as he approached, a huge
leather strap in his hands. He showed it to Lana as she dangled
helplessly.
"The first hour," he said with a grin, "I'm gonna spend on the bottoms
of your feet." He ran his huge leathery hands over her body, down her
legs, finally gripping her ankles and examining the soles of her feet
carefully. "Very nice. Not too much callus. Well, let's get started.
Feel free to scream as loudly as you like."
Lana tried to brace herself, but the first blow of the leather strap
cut into her left sole like a razor, and she let out a shriek.
"Very nice," said Shadow. He gripped her foot firmly in his hand and
brought the strap up across the bottom four more times before
switching to the other foot. Lana gasped with pain, writhed in her
bonds, tried to pull free, but there was no use.
Next her ?trainer' picked up a long, thin piece of metal that looked
like a car antenna.
"I'm gonna spend the next twenty minutes using this on your feet," he
said. "When I'm done you'll wish you were dead. But we'll still have
another thirty-five minutes to go in this hour, and another
twenty-three hours after that. What do you think of that, cunt?"
Lana was beyond words. The best she could manage was a long, guttural
moan.
Shadow didn't break his promise. The antenna tore into the soles of
her feet over and over again. After he'd finished beating both feet
with it Lana was dizzy with pain, screaming and sobbing hysterically.
She hyperventilated as he set the antenna down, praying for a moment
of respite, but it was not to be. There was a woodstove in the middle
of the room, and Shadow went to it and produced what appeared to be a
fireplace poker. It was red-hot.
"Have a look at this, cunt. We're gonna start with this on the bottoms
of your feet. Once on each toe. Once on your heel. Five times on the
ball of each foot. Then one time, right in the middle of each foot."
"NO!" Lana found her voice again. "NO! Stop! Please, no! What's the
matter with you? Stop hurting me!"
Shadow laughed. 
"Why exactly would I want to do that?" he said. "I'm rather enjoying
myself."
Lana's scream was ear-splitting, inhuman, as the poker seared into her
flesh. The smell of her skin cooking filled the room as Shadow burned
her again and again and again.
After an eternity he set the poker down in its rack again.
"Well. That was fun," Shadow said over Lana's screams. He checked his
watch, grinned as she caught her breath.
"I-is it over?" she gasped.
"That part is," he agreed. "Only twenty-three more hours to go."
With a moan, Lana fainted.

The author welcomes questions/comments/suggestions at
worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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