The woman frowns. The officer’s face looks almost as if dead. She does hope the cop isn’t dead yet. She’d not like to be the one to pay for killing her, but if so, then at least she put one more slut in her place.
Noticing the broken nail against the twitching fingers where she’d left the pliers, the woman picks up the second nail, turning it over and smiles. It broke off roughly, with the edges rippled and cracked. The woman chuckles and pockets her trophy with the first one. All in all, it’s been a good day for her.
The black man sighs, looking over the ravaged body of the police officer. Her face is slack, jaw hanging limply with bone protruding from the left cheek, her eyes glazed. She’s not even moving to struggle any more. Her breasts are two torn pieces of meat and walking around to the vaginal end he can see the bottle has made it so the hooks have torn away the flesh without properly spreading the pussy lips, the lips themselves seeming charred and boiled.
“Shit,” he hisses, looking back towards the rich woman making her way up the stairs back into the audience.
The woman has a fine backside and compared to what is left of this pig it would be far more preferable to fuck. He realizes he really can’t be turned on by this and simply expels his bowels on the officer’s face, letting his piss drain down over her. She does not even flinch.
“Shit,” he mutters, pulling out a long pole with a barbed end. “There’s not much left to this bitch,” he says idly. “So let’s see if this wakes her up?”
He picks up the blow torch, flipping the switch to light the flame and presses the fires to the barbed end.
Allison can barely feel anything anymore. Her whole body has turned into a massive bottle of pain and abuse. A great open sore that has been slit open.
Her mind is frenzied and she barely recognizes the torn piece of meat she sees on the mirrors above her. There is blood everywhere and moving at all just brings more pain. More agony.
She feels the choker at her neck squeezing, crushing the life force out of her and looks towards the buttons all now splattered red. Which one was it? The one on the left? Or right? It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks, turning away. It only delays the inevitable.
She lets her hand drop back, feeling the constricting pressure of the strap around her neck but can’t be bothered to care anymore. She’s going to die. She just hopes it’s sooner rather than later.
When she hears the blow torch light up she squeezes her eyes shut instinctively, awaiting the agony that is to come. But after several seconds she wonders what it is they are preparing?
The strap tightens more as she finds her breath wheezing through a small tube. It won’t matter much longer. She’ll be dead soon. She’ll be...
Then the pain comes. Something jammed in her rectum that is burning hot and Allison lets out a final, pained scream.
For the man he feels his member finally picking up as he jams the barbed poker into the cunt’s ass, watching as her body writhes and bucks, thrashing on the table. Her anus bubbles, splattering blood out from its opening, the girl managing to let out some tortured cry from beneath her bondage.
He continues pushing the poker in, driving it forward. He paid money to fuck and torture, but since fucking seems out of the question, torturing seems to be all he can do. He pushes the rod in further, taking time to turn it, her asshole smoking and hissing as the rod is driven deeper inside. All too soon though, it is over.
The body stops flaying, coming down and going into its final death throes, the bindings still tightens around her body crushing her throat and chest. The man sighs, tugging at the poker and then letting it go, leaving it lodged in the woman’s rectum. It could have been better.
The man in the tux smiles, watching as the woman dies. She’s brought in a good deal of money for he and his organization. A pity it had to end this way. But so is life.
At the end of the day they’ll prep the body and dump it in the river in another week, her body found mangled and even more befowled than it is now due to what a river can do to one’s corpse. If they find it at all. Many times the bodies are never found at all it would seem. Not that much would be recognized anyways, after it’s been burnt to ash. A skull there a femur there, it makes no difference in the end. None at all...
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