Chapter 1

Bea lay in filth as the ceiling above her creaked, dust cascading down from heavy footfalls. Master was home. Clamoring up, she knew he would open the door to look in on her any minute. With popping joints and clanging metal, she settled on her knees, presenting herself. There Bea waited. To her surprise it was not any minute, but several, nearly an hour by her estimation before the heavy metal door swung in.

Without words he approached, down old stairs to stand over her. His hand raised but Bea stayed still until his massive palm struck her just under her chin, knocking her flat to the dirt floor.

His face broke into a smile, but she did not see. She knew to lay still.

“eh Bitch, happy to see me?”

Bea answered quickly and loudly.

“Yes Sir”

He knelt next to her, tracing a finger along her gaunt, marred flesh. Licking his lips he grabbed the heavy gauge chain around her neck and pulled. Lifting her easily, she scrambled not to choke under her own weight. With a slow, steady motion, he brought her face inches from his.

“Your almost out of water this time, I’m sure your very happy to see me, and you’ve healed up too I see.”

With hot breathe in her face, his fingers slid over her exposed skin, moving up her neck. Along her face was a long scar his fingers traced, nudging her jaw and pushing her head.

“So pretty I’ve made you.”

“Yes Sir,” she repeated, shaking, but with the same intensity.

Procuring a small key from his pocket, he twisted her further, finding the shackle holding the manacle around her neck. Unlocking it, he let the chain clang to the floor, replacing the restraint with his hand at her throat. Grinning, he smiled and spat in her face.

“That’s my pretty bitch.”

Smacking her other cheek softly, he smiled.

“Now run upstairs, I’ve got a little present, and dinner needs cooked.”

Bea obeyed, moving quickly up the stairs, not touching what he’d left on her face. As she neared the top, she felt warm air for the first time in days. Looked back at him from the doorway, she put her hand on the heavy metal door.

“Sir.” she called down, her voice low, muscles tense.

Below, he had begun to pull a large metal table from the wall.

“I am glad you’re back Sir.”

Her head dipped as she spoke, eyes down at her feet. The shadowed man didn’t respond, instead turning back towards a wall of instruments as he dismissed her from his view.

Chapter 2

Sophie wrenched against her bindings, only stopping as Bea emerged. The sight struck her. A tall, nude, dirty woman walking from the doorway. Bea’s mangled, disfigured form was unnerving at first, but she hoped for an ally. Trying to draw her attention she screamed into her gag. This woman didn’t react, as if entranced, instead walking slowly past and out of view.

Sophie strained to listen, but her heart pounded in her ears. Driven to escape, she twisted against her restraints again, a thin rope around her arms and legs. She fought to slip a wrist, trying to free even one limb. The thin rope cut into her flesh as she worked them back and forth. Seeing a small fray, she used her teeth, gnawing wildly, trying to pull it apart.

She felt it give slightly, and then more. Just a single strand left, until finally - a free hand! Fighting the urge to scream in triumph, she quickly pulled the gag from her mouth, then began freeing her other hand, ankles, and knees. The knots were tight, but with one free hand she managed. Standing up for the first time in a day, her legs hurt, but she pushed, hobbling towards the door.

With her singular focus, she didn’t notice Bea. With one swift motion, she grabbed Sophie by the hair, using her leverage to toss the young girl, slamming her to the ground. With a knee, Sophia was pinned, her face against the hardwood floor. Trying to twist, she was surprised at Bea’s strength, holding her put with her thin, naked body.

“Sir!”

Bea’s shrieking voice pierced through the house, freezing Sophie in terror. A dreadful silence hung in the air until slow, heavy clunk of footfalls and creaking stairs echoed from below. Fear replaced the hope in Sophie’s heart as she slowly saw the man appear, his dead eyes locked onto her. In his hand the large manacle.

Bea grabbing Sophie by the arms, rolled and lifted her, as the man reached down and hooked the restraint around her neck. The collar locking with a bone-chilling click. Now shackled, Bea released her. Getting up without another word to kneel just behind the man, her posture arched in an extreme way.

The man reaching down grabbed Sophia.

“How rude to leave before dinner.”

The man closed his fist, striking her chest, knocking the air from her lungs. Sophia wheezed loudly, unable to speak, the room spinning. Overwhelmed, her arms became heavy. To heavy to lift and protect herself. Her legs felt like sand, and her chest burned.

“What a waste.”

Pulling a knife from his pocket, the man slid the blade under the bottom hem of her shirt. Pulling, the stretched material cut easily as he pulled the knife up. Thin lines of blood appeared on her chest wherever the razor sharp blade grazed her skin. Sophie wincing and tried to scream, but could only manage a wheezing, huffing noise as she tried to push air out.

Licking his lips, he dragged the blade under the straps of her bra, slicing it, and her again. With the young girls chest exposed, he slammed her again to the floor. His knife found her waistband instead, carving through her shorts and underwear in a single motion, stripping her completely. Visibly excited by her clean, bare flesh, he raked his nails along her body, eager to see her skin marked.

“I’m sure someone will miss a pretty one like this.”

His voice was deep, his breathing ragged. As he stood, his flesh pressed against his soiled pants. Sophie didn’t notice though. Her mind had fled, escaping through the door, leaving her body behind. Tears poured from blank, wide eyes. The man, using his boot, pressed her flat to the ground, his heel in her tit. With his other foot, he pinned her left wrist to the ground. Sophie, wincing, tried to pull away, but couldn’t get an inch under his weight.

“Cunt, take her thumb.”

The once motionless Bea jumped to life at his command. Taking the knife from his outstretched had, she notched it in the crook of Sophie’s open palm. With a clean motion, the sharp blade easily cleaved into the joint, separating tendons as Bea pulled the thumb free, tearing the last bit of skin remaining in her fervor.

Lifting it Bea presented the thumb to the man.

White searing pain ripped Sophie’s mind back, kicking and screaming. Her body tried to recoil, but she was helpless, unable to take even enough breath to scream. Laughing, the man stepped off her, letting her roll and clutch her disfigured hand. She writhed as shooting pain radiated and blood poured from the amputation. The man reaching out, picked the thumb from Bea’s outstretched hands, examining it. The perfectly manicured nail and soft, fair skin. The clean slice leaving almost no ragged sinew. Holding it out, deep red blood dripped from it onto Sophie’s golden hair.

“Good cunt.”

Ignoring Sophie’s yowling, He knelt in front of Bea.

“Spread.”

Jumping, Bea fell onto her back, her head resting against Sophie. Reaching down she grabbed her feet, pulling them wide, spreading her legs, presenting her bare cunt. Smiling, he pressed the thumb against her lips, forcing it inside easily, until the bloody end just barely hung out. Bea shuddered feeling the cleaved digit snuggly inside.

“Go back to work.”

Bea nodded as she clamored up, feeling warm blood drip down between her legs as she left the room. She didn’t look back, leaving him alone with Sophie.

Chapter 3

The man reached out to touch her soft, bare skin again. Moving closer, his long fingers wrapped around her. Rolling her onto her stomach, He licked his lips and spit between her legs. Even in her state of shock, Sophie heard the unmistakable sound of oh his zipper.

“Please.. no,” she sobbed quietly.

“Yes that’s it, do your part.”

Powerless she lay still, clutching her bleeding hand, helpless as he rubbed himself against her. She could feel his fingers, and something else pressing into her. What must of been his disgusting, unwelcome cock. Grunting, she felt him thrust, forcing it inside of her. His breathing was sharp, ragged, as he rutted into her. Sophie’s quiet whimpers were quickly drown out by his primal, guttural grunts.

“Let me hear you scream,”

His voice menaced from behind her as his intensity grew.

“Scream for me bitch.”

Sophie stayed silent, frozen in fear.

What did he want?

Grabbing the knife off the floor next to him, the man grew impatient, and ran the blade along Sophie’s back, opening her pale, clean flesh. She shrieked as she felt him slash into her, a line of fire drawn on her skin. Blood poured from the wound as she screamed and cried, sending the man into a frenzy. With immense strength she was held in place as she tried to buck him away, tried to stand and run. It was no use as he plowed into her with fervor, fucking her even harder than before.

As her screaming turned to sobbing again, he stuck the knife in her side, deep until his fist was against her. Twisting it, she shrieked, the knife deep in her guts. Her body tried to fight, hysterically but he put his weight on her, holding her down. Pulling the knife out, blood poured from her wound, slicking the floor. The pain was unbearable as she screamed. Much to his delight every hungry drive of his cock between her legs caused immense pain. She writhed and screeched under him.

“I’m nearly finished,” he barked in her ear, biting it, tearing her flesh, blood flowing into his mouth.

His eyes were nearly black in bloodlust as he thrust deeply into Sophie’s fading body. Blood covered both of them. Her clean, pale skin now painted in deep red. Her breathing was shallow, her screams losing their force. He could feel her withering spirit beneath him.

In a final frenzy, he grabbed her head, pinning it down as he orgasmed violently, deep inside her. Sophie felt faint as she barely acknowledged what he had done. His final violation. She thought back to her mother’s smile. A warm day walking along the meadow. A sweet moment from not long ago. With a smooth, practiced motion, the man pulled Sophie’s head back and pulled the blade along her throat. Gurgling, her eyes went wide as blood poured from the gash. He smiled as they spent her last few moments together, his hand on her cheek until she was still.

Epilogue

Bea, often guilty about her role in the deaths of so many girls, could never bring herself to disobey her Sir. She lived a very hard life, and eventually passed several years later, alone in the basement from dehydration.

The man, unmoved by Bea’s death, quickly went about conditioning a replacement. A mother and son he found wandering along a trail in northern Montana. Killing the son, he sought to break the mother, but she bid her time and eventually stuck him with an ice pick and ran from the house. When the police returned, they found him bled out on the couch, the pick in his neck, bible at his feet open to Jeremiah 31:22.