[darkstalker]

The man, a thin black individual with a strong build and great dark dome for his head, looks through his shaded glasses at the white meat placed before him. Beautiful and helpless, spread wide before him, her great mams rising and falling. All his to beat and destroy. He taps her own club against his palm and shakes his head, a shiver running through his body.
Normally he’d fuck the woman’s cunt, but stretched out already as it is, looking like a great wide pink cave, he thinks she’ll hardly feel his rod. But this...
He slams the club down, purposely smashing her clitoris, watching as her eyes bulge and her body arches, red swollen mammeries pushing up, swinging red and raw before him. This. This she can feel. He slams the plastic rod down hard on her body, watching her writhe.
“That hurt bitch?” he says, watching her pleading eyes tearing up, sweaty body twisting in its bindings. “How about this?”
He slams the rod deep into her cunt, ramming it in, making her grunt, head arching back, hips twisting before him. “Yeah..” he says, “bet that stings. Too bad for you.”
He’s surprised. Her cunt is barely able to hold its girth, meaning she’s not quite as stretched out as she initially was, her lips hugging the rod lovingly. He begins pumping her own club in back and forth into her stretching cunt, slamming it in deep. She screams as he feels the rod slam into resistance at the end of her hole. The stage itself is active with life.
He can hear the whispers in the background, different claps sounding out from among the audience. It amuses him, how people are entertained by another’s suffering. Under different situations it could be him in this cop’s place, but with enough money it never will be. He rams the baton one more time into her cunt until he feels her womb starting to give way and pulls it out, slick with lubricative ooze and blood.
It is so bright and red, dripping down the black shaft. It’s almost as if it were a black man’s dick in itself. He runs his tongue over it, tasting the thick iron flavor that comes off of it, and smacks his lips.
It isn’t until he looks up that he notices the woman staring at him, her eyes bulging. “You want some of this?” he ask, looking at her puckered anus, so ignored throughout the entirety of this ordeal so far. The little hole quivering. “Don’t worry, I’ll be getting to that.”

Allison stares wide eyed. Each blow he’d landed on her vagina had been brutal with a horrid pain rushing up her body, but when the man had rammed her own club into her cunt, she’d thought she’d pass out. Unfortunately, this hadn’t been the case and she’d had no choice but to endure the brutality as she’d felt her cervix slammed again and again by a hard and unyielding rod. No man had ever abused her this way before and it made her terrified to know such a one existed.
When he pulls out the rod slick with her blood and begins to lick it, her heart sinks. He is enjoying the destruction of her body as much as any criminal. He says something briefly that she does not understand and puts aside her blood encrusted rod. Then she feels his fingers against the edges of her anus and she shakes, trying to twist out of the man’s grasp, as futile as it is. No man has taken her anus before. As she feels the head of the cock against her puckered hole, she braces herself for the agony.
“Get ready bitch! Here it comes!” says the man hungrily and slams his girth into her tightened sphincter with brutal force, tearing it open in one savage blow. She cries out, her body instantly tightening around his manhood as her body arches, trying to pull away. It is no use of course and the man laughs, pulling out slowly, seeming to enjoy her agonies as he pulls out only to slam back into her once more. It hurts unbearably and she wonders for how long she must endure?

The man loves how tight her hole is, that little puckered hole squeezing his ramrod like a glove. He can feel her pain, how her body quivers with each blow he gives it and it amuses him to no end. His ramrod is getting harder with each shuddering cry from the woman. Even muffled as she is he can tell the pain he is causing her and it brings him great joy.
He feels the blood flowing more thickly into his phallus, the woman’s agonies making him want to take her even more, to abuse her. His thrust become quicker, her anus seeming to greedily suck at his ramrod as he pushes it in and out of her body, fucking her brutally. He piston fucks her, rutting her like a bull, his hips slapping against hers with wild abandon as he leans down and squeezes his hands around her neck, choking her.
He watches her eyes begin to bulge, her face seeming to go blue as he begins to squeeze down and he laughs. “Yeah.. Yeah... cunt. Take it! Take my ramrod into that fucking ass of yours! Take it!”
Her answer is to struggle, writhing underneath him, trying to kick out but unable to do so. He laughs and slaps her bruised tit flesh. “What? Can’t take it?” he says, slapping her luscious orb again. “Well... that’s too fucking bad!”
She sputters as he clamps both his hands around her neck again and begins to ream her asshole once more, slamming into it. He squeezes tight, no longer able to concentrate on her face as he pumps into her more vigorously, his thoughts lost. All he can think is how her anus feels, clenching around his shaft as it is, feeling so nice and wet with her blood.
He thrust roughly into her a few more times, groaning loudly before his heat brings him to climax, his seed spilling all over her insides. He leans down on her, thrusting quickly a few more times to finish himself off and licks the end of her right nipple, sucking up some of the blood. He takes the end and bites down, pulling on it as far as the breast will go before letting it snap back violently making the woman groan.
Slowly he releases his grip on her throat. She is in a fit of coughing, eyes wide like saucers. He withdraws his member, turning to the loud clapping of the crowd and bows, his manhood still erect. If he had this woman to himself he’d probably fuck her pussy too, but that would demand extra payment, and by the time they get around to him again she’ll be too torn apart to be worthwhile. He pushes his shades down so she can look into his eyes and blows her a kiss. The woman simply stares, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Just as he likes them, he thinks. Sad and broken hearted.

The woman strides down the stairs, her hips swaying, the large strap on against her hips dipping up and down and looks at the cop. Her pussy lips are spreading beautifully, the hooks tearing into the fat titted whore’s cunt in a wonderful manner. The cop’s cunt is nice and pink, blood running down the pulled holes that now strain from the hooks. But the cop just looks away, not even pushing the buttons anymore, letting them tighten and squeeze the life out of her. Stupid cunt, the woman thinks, she won’t even fight to keep her life anymore. To amuse me.
She takes out an empty bottle from under the rack of instruments, turning it, inspecting it and feeling satisfied, grabs the base, aiming it at the cop’s extended hole. She grins and slams the bottle deep into the cop’s cunt. The cops’s eyes grow wide, her voice groaning, hands now writhing over the panel. The woman grins.
She is not unattractive herself, but she has never been someone to be said to be beautiful. Her hips are too narrow, breasts too small, arms too thin, face too long. But this cunt.. The woman wonders how often this cop has spread her legs open wide, offered them up to her boyfriends or her superiors to get a promotion. It disgust her how easily women like this get through life. Well then, her promotion here is a come uppance.
She pushes the bottle in deeper, twisting it. “Plzz!” the cop begs, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Stp!”
The woman smiles. “Why?” she says. “Can’t take it? Thought cunts like you always liked men with big dicks? Always bragging about them. Well, here’s a nice big cock up your cunt hole bitch.” She twist the bottle in deeper, slamming the heel of her hand against the base of it so it thumps against the cop’s cervix.
The cop writhes, twisting back, veins on her neck bulging, sweat running down her body. “Stupid bitch,” says the woman, turning back towards the torture rack and picking up the blow torch from the top level. She flips the switch on, hearing the gas push against the nozzle, hot flame coming out in a long line. “Do you really think I don’t know you? People like you?”
The flame lights on the end of the torch as she twist the nozzle, the blue light a beautiful deadly hue. “Well now,” she says, turning around, looking into the girl’s big, wide eyes. “You’re going to see what I do to you big titted whores who are always looking down on me!”
And she lowers the torch, bringing it level with the base of the bottle....

Allison howls, the pain ripping through her body as the bottle heats up, the hooks on the ends of her vagina growing hot incredibly quick, making her flesh sizzle. She screams, bucking wildly, pulling and jerking at the bindings holding her down, spread and helpless. But no matter how much she struggles, how much she writhes, she can only manage to barely tug at the straps holding her, they doing more to hurt her appendages rather than loosen to any degree.
A wail rings out from her lips, Allison unable to comprehend how another woman is willing to put one of her own through such suffering. Neither of the men who had tortured her earlier had decided to put her through such awful treatment and she can only wonder what it is that pushes this woman to such atrocities?
Soon her mind fades, these thoughts replaced by agony. It is all that remains. This horrifying pain that sears through her entire body as her inner thighs begin to boil and blacken around the super heating bottle. Even after the flames die out her body continues to tug violently at the bonds, the bottle no less hot than when it was being heated, her cunt lips feeling like they’ve melted around the hot bottle.
She watches as the woman walks towards her and tries to pull away from her, straining against the binds. The woman chuckles and leans down, stroking her hair lightly with her hand, looking almost kindly, except none of it reaches the woman’s eyes.
“Ah, poor thing,” the woman says. “Maybe you haven’t fucked around with every single creature who has a stick between his legs?” the woman says, cupping Allison’s left tit painfully between two painted nails.
“Please...” Allison tries to say.
“And maybe you haven’t spent hours working on your nails either?”
Only now does Allison notice the pliers in the woman’s free hand, her other hand now running over Allison’s own, over the very buttons she needs to push to keep herself from dying. “Ngggg..” she says as the woman strokes her fingers, and Allison shakes her head in denial, fear making her jerk at the bond which barely gives.
“Poor thing,” says the woman with malice in her tongue. “It must hurt to be so beautiful.” The pliers dip under the middle finger and close down on the nail, the woman’s hand pressing down on Allison’s hand to keep it still. The pliers begin to pull up, the nail crunching beneath and Allison finds herself screaming.

The woman looks upon the cop with a dark mirth. How she has longed for this, to hurt one of these uppity sluts who parade their bodies around like so much ornamentation, sticking out their large asses and flinging out their large breasts like they are so much better than she. Now it is her turn to flaunt her power over one of these women. Now it is her turn to make them hurt!
She relishes how this tart now looks as she pulls up on one of the nails that’s supposed to keep the buttons to her torture pressed down. Purposefully the woman takes her time, pulling the nail up, enjoying it as each sliver of flesh slowly parts, the nail cracking audibly.
The cop strains in her bonds, shrieking, saliva splattering from her upturned mouth. While the pain from the bottle and blow torch were enjoyable for the woman they were also something minor in how little time she was allowed to use them. Sure, she could have kept the blow torch up longer but then she’d have had to pay extra and she’s already paid enough for what she is doing. She’ll just have to enjoy what she has.
The nail finally plucks away, the cop’s finger spurting a surprising amount of blood from the open wound, drenching the button and wood in red fluid. The woman turns the nail over, inspecting it, the red end still dripping and nods, pocketing the nail in a small baggie.
She generally prefers taking teeth to add to her collection, each representing a woman she’s tortured and put in her place, but with that gag in play, teeth aren’t an option. Still, the nails will do. She has a collection of those as well. She leans down, gripping the end of the second nail. “And this little piggy went to the butcher shop...” she whispers to herself, the cop shrieking into her gag through the whole process.
It really is amusing to have a woman like this under her power.

Allison is delusional with pain. Her mind is throbbing with it. She wants it to stop. How the woman has been slow and methodical in withdrawing her nail had been horrid, and now she repeats the process with the second nail. It is too cruel.
Her hips still radiate with fire, the bottle still lodged hot in her loins, hips burning. Compared to that this should be minor, but the woman is so slow, so deliberate in the twisting and tugging of the nail that Allison can barely think. Every pull, every twist sends a spike of pain racing through her nervous system, making her writhe futilely on the table.
Allison sucks in a breath of air to scream anew and finds something tightening on her throat. She forgot! The leather is still squeezing her neck and it has gotten tight enough that breathing is becoming difficult.
“Oh,” the woman says, with mock surprise now noticing Allison’s bulging eyes, shallow gasp escaping her lips. “It seems that neck brace is getting tight. How unfortunate.”
The woman strokes Allison’s cheek, smiling. “We should get started with the fucking then, before you expire, shouldn’t we?”
Allison stares, her eyes pleading, but the woman merely circles around, leaving the pliers where they are with her half pulled nail straining on the end of her finger. The woman strokes Allison’s neck, grinning, and jerks her neck back, thrusting the dildo on the strap on into Allison’s throat suddenly.
Allison jerks, the tightness on her throat such that she has no space to take the massive instrument into her neck without the insides tearing. The woman doesn’t seem to care. She thrust the thick device into Allison’s throat savagely and Allison feels as much as hears something crack. She wails against the woman’s strap on, drool and blood dripping down into her nose, her body thrashing on the table.

The woman grins, pulling out slowly, then slamming back in, then back out and back in. She repeats the process, watching as the woman struggles on the table, jaw stretching and neck bulging, her large breasts swinging back and forth, now purpling from the wire. She wonders...
Turning her lips into a pout, she sighs and calls over the man in the tux while keeping her plastic phallus lodged deep into the cunt’s throat. She tells him what she wants and the man grins. It’s expensive.
Sighing, she agrees and has him wheel over the table.

Allison gags against the woman’s strap on, buried so deep into her neck she can feel it against her collar bone, blood and drool slipping from her cracked lips and running down into her nose. She moans, trying to cry out around the strap on, the blood and leather making it hard to breathe. Her jaw feels dislocated on the right side and hurts with each thrust made by the woman. She wonders when the woman will stop fucking her mouth?
Then suddenly... she does.
She wonders why? What kind of torture does the woman have planned for her, for it can’t be mercy. She would not stop to help her if she is leaving that painful strap on lodged into her throat, each movement and twist making Allison squirm.
She hears whispering, but can’t define what it is. The pain in her throat is simply too much to allow her to think properly or concentrate on something so menial as whispers. Added with the pain that still radiates up her loins, it’s all she can do to keep from passing out. Still...
She hears something lifted off the table and feels as the woman touches her breasts, softly, almost sweetly. It fills her with dread, her body stiffening with the touch. Tenderness is always a prelude to pain. It always is. Then she hears the whirring electrical noise above her and she begins trying to scream.

The woman smiles, feeling her lips part and grin spread, her heart racing wildly. The cop’s tits are so large and soft, even after being abused as they have been. She feels them, holding the right, the nipple hard and erect. Fucking cunt is probably getting off on this, she thinks. Well, we’ll see if she can get off on this!
She raises the electric drill with the long nine inch end and flips the switch on, watching as the bladed point begins to spin quickly, making a loud grinding noise. “Now let’s get these fat tits of yours pierced, shall we?” she whispers. The woman beneath her is moaning, shrieking, but she doesn’t worry, leaning forward more to get better placement on her hips while being able to hold the breast in a more proper position.
The cop is shaking, crying, but with the woman leaning as she is the cop can’t really move. Pity for her.
The woman lowers the drill slowly, aiming it towards the upturned nipple and begins pushing the bladed point down. The effect is almost immediate. Bits of flesh and skin begin to splatter, chunks spraying with hot blood.
As the drill digs all the way down, the flesh sizzling around the base, the woman finds herself surprised at how the bag of flesh manages to hold together. True, the nipple itself was obliterated but the rest of the meat seemed to hold together decently. She withdraws the drill in reverse, eliciting another scream and wracked shudder from the cop. But she ignores it, instead entranced by the drill itself.
The long blade is covered in blood, dripping, hot and steaming with bits of flesh still clinging to the drill. The woman finds herself giggling, enjoying the reflections of color in the gore and takes hold of the second tit with a sweaty hand, her heart racing as she thinks of how she’ll tear this sack of flesh apart.

Allison cries. The woman has been nothing if not brutal. The strap on stretches her throat in unbelievably painful ways, her lower jaw moving in ways it should not. She feels it sliding around the strap on. The pain in her breast still burns. She fears looking at it. She’d felt how that drill had torn through it, how the drill had jerked and burned through it.
When the woman grabs her second breast Allison begins sobbing. The woman’s nails dig in savagely, ripping scrapes along it and the drill whirs to life, its voice a fiery demon. Allison begins to sob, unable to move, her body prone to these savageries.
The bit bites into her tip, like before, tearing flesh and nerve quickly. The length of the bit rips through her flesh, burning her tit at the same time it bores into her. As the bit hits bone it begins to waver. For Allison it makes her strain, her back arching as she tries to pull away, her body impaled by both ends and now a third. She feels the nail, half pulled, fall away from her finger. The pain from her fingers is inconsequential in comparison.
As her breast meat begins to form over the drill bit it goes back in reverse and she feels the pain all over again. The burning and tearing that rakes her body as all sense is ripped away from her. Then it is over.
The seconds tick by like an eternity, her chest heaving up and down, hot blood leaking down her chest, burning her skin. She no longer hopes for salvation, just an end to the pain. An end to the agony.
Then she feels her throat stretching, blood and bile coming up her throat as the strap on is jammed in and out at a furious pace in her mouth. She cries, wondering what god is it that punishes her so?

The woman relishes the feeling beneath her, the cop slut writhing in agony, her very life choking away as both the woman’s strap on and the choker on the cop’s neck cut away the air supply. It is too sweet, she thinks, all this violence.
She feels an orgasm beginning to build, the strap on coming with a reverse phallus pushed into her own vaginal opening so she may feel pleasure while she causes her victim extreme discomfort. This end now moves into her pussy, wetting her insides as the longer more brutal part continues to ravage the police woman. So it is with each thrust of agony for the police officer the woman herself feels a greater pleasure.
She continues thrusting rapidly, banging against the young officer’s face as the heat in her body rises, watching as those large breasts flop, slapping against the ribs as the barbs dig deeply into the meat, blood spraying forth from the wounds. All so beautiful, she thinks. So.... perfect.
Her thrust become more vigorous, frantic. Her nails begin to dig into the cop’s collar bone, lacquered plastic tearing thin lines into the officer’s chest. She beats fiercely against the officer’s face, the slapping of her lips and cheeks so beautiful as she watches the neck bulge and swell beneath her.
It all works to arouse her further, to push her to her limits until finally the orgasm hits her. Wave after wave washes over her, her body beating a few rough blows against the officer’s lips before she feels herself fully sated.
She pulls out of the limp mouth slowly, tracing a nail across the officer’s cheek, drawing blood. The cop doesn’t seem to notice, her eyes almost glazed over, mouth hanging open with a mixture of drool and blood dribbling down into her nose and eyes.
She lets the officer give her strap on one final kiss with her lips before drawing it away. The strap on is covered in red blood that shines against the burning lights overhead.