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Necrobabe's blog: "I cant..resist.."

created on 03/09/2009  |  http://fubar.com/i-cant-resist/b282928

100 DAYS OF RAPE


 
The car sped away from the crime scene, leaving the deserted section of road clean of all clues of the abduction. Inside, four boys were laughing and hooting it up as their trembling captive, sixteen year old Ashley Donaldson, lay distraught on the floor of the back seat. She couldn’t believe it. She’d missed her ride and was walking home from swim practice. She hadn’t even noticed the car stopping until it was too late. The snatch took all of five seconds, and now she was bound and blindfolded in the back of their car. The guys, they weren’t much older than she was, were having a grand old time of it at her expense.

They didn’t otherwise touch her during the ride, but an hour or so later they pulled up to the summer house. Tommy’s parents hadn’t been able to rent it out, so he and his friends had made the case for renting it themselves for the season. After some negotiation, the six of them had been allowed. Now, two of them waited inside for the delivery of their young package. They went outside when the car rolled up.

The trembling girl was dragged out and to her feet. They untied her hands and feet but left the blindfold on. “Please, who’s there?” she asked. “What do you want?”

“We’re going to have some fun with you,” Keith said. “Go ahead, Ashley, take your clothes off.”

“No. I won’t.”

“There are six of us, and no one can hear you scream,” Todd said. “Get ‘em off. Now.”

Ashley couldn’t believe it, but she knew she was trapped and would have to endure what they wanted. She’d hoped her first time would be something different. Something under control. With trembling fingers, she began stripping for them. She didn’t even hesitated with her bra or panties. They clearly wanted everything off. Soon she was totally naked from head to toe.

Frank gathered up her clothes and ran inside with them. He returned a moment later. Ashley was still standing there, uncertain of where to put her hands. She didn’t try to cover herself. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked. “If I cooperate, will you let me go?”

“All in good time.”

“Jake! Is that you?” she cried. “My god, why?”

“Eh, we needed some fun for the summer,” Jake replied. He’d been waiting all day for this. The only reason he wasn’t in the car was in case the grab went back. Ashley didn’t know the others, but she knew him. She’d even let him feel her chest once a couple months ago. Now she was fully naked for him.

“What? No, you can’t keep me here for the summer! Please! My parents will be terrified!”

“You said they were dorks,” Jake said. It was true. Both of them were always on her case about something. She’d never have a life as long as they were controlling her. But this? It was too much in the other direction.

“Look, Ashley. No one knows you’re here. No one is going to know,” Frank said. “We’ll have you back in your Barbie doll life before the school year starts. Until then, just accept that we need a sex slave, and you’re chosen.”

“You know what a sex slave is, Ashley?” Billy asked. Ashley couldn’t answer him. She’d never heard the term before, but its meaning was plain as day. It made her stomach turn over, and the butterflies in her stomach were replaced by angry woodpeckers.

“You won’t hurt me, will you?” she asked. “Please.”

“We won’t injure you. Don’t think it’ll be a picnic,” Jake said.

“But don’t even think about escaping,” John added. “Put it out of your little mind for good. You’re far from rescue here. Think about pleasing us. Maybe you’ll enjoy it too.”

Unlikely, Ashley thought, but when they suddenly lifted her blindfold off and she squinted through the bright sunlight, she realized they were indeed far out in the country. She saw her leering, grinning captors and they were all older and bigger than she was. She gulped hard as her young, terrified mind tried to imagine what hell awaited her.

“Come on, inside now,” Todd said. The guys surrounded her as she was made to walk into their house and down to the basement. She saw the metal frame bed with the chain and cuff already attached and knew that it was for her. She sat down without being told while John took the collar and wrapped it around her neck. The padlock was snapped shut and she was trapped.

They were standing back, watching her. Her breathing grew heavy. She stood up and tried to see how far the chain let her move. She could actually stand at the foot of the bed, but that was as far as it went. She turned to her captors with tears running from her eyes. “You won’t keep me down here the whole time, will you? Please don’t!”

“For now, this is home. When you’ve dociled a bit, we’ll see,” John replied. “Give it a few days. You’ve got a toilet here and everything.” He gestured to the bucket and roll of paper sitting by the wall.

“Alright, enough. We’ve got her, let’s enjoy her,” Frank said. He went to a table and picked up six straws, including one obvious short one. He mixed them up and held them out. One by one they began taking them away. It was Jake that pulled the fourth and shortest straw among them.

“Yes!” he shouted. Ashley couldn’t believe it. Her friend was going to defile her first. She’d already decided he wasn’t boyfriend material, but now he was going to rape her. The others slunk away in disappointment, heading back upstairs, leaving Ashley and Jake alone together. He was looking over her body, making Ashley want to cover herself. She didn’t try, though. She stood, enduring his gaze. At least it was better him than a stranger. She had, after all, once let him feel her up.

“Don’t worry, Ashley, it won’t be bad for you,” he said. “We won’t really hurt you. Just try to relax and take it.”

She began crying, and sat down on the bed. “How can I just take it?” she sobbed. He sat down beside her and put and arm around her.

“You’ll find a way,” he said. Then he pushed her down onto the her back on the mattress. She lay sobbing while he got undressed. He climbed on top of her, parting her legs, which offered no resistance.

“Please, don’t rape me Jake,” she pleaded one more time, but his cock entered her on the word ‘rape’. She gasped at the sensation of a cock inside her. It hurt like hell, and she felt her blood. But he continued sliding in and out, and her clit, which she knew had special feelings to it, began to act on her. She thrashed her head, knowing it was wrong to take pleasurable sensation. But there it was.

As he finished, which did not take very long, her cries changed in tone, despite herself. She was working her way to something, something special. She could sense it. But Jake stiffened and poured his cum into her snatch before she was there. She was still flustered and breathing hard when he pulled out of her.

“See how far you’ve come, Ashley,” he said. “Make it mental, and we can all have a fun summer.”

In the following week

Ashley lay on her bed, still chained. They hadn’t let her up, but they had put an old TV and VCR down there with her. She’d left it alone until then. There was no antenna, and the only movies were pornos. Violent pornos. But when no one was there, she got very lonely. She hadn’t worn clothes since her arrival, and the constant exposure was taking its toll on her. She’d finally, in the dark, quiet hours of the night, taken to touching herself for pleasure. She’d masturbated before, but now it seemed too dirty. Not while she was a captive. A sex slave. But urges overtook her.

And now she finally told herself she was bored enough to watch one. She didn’t know which title to choose. There were dozens of them. She didn’t look at the titles. It didn’t really matter. She put one in the machine and began watching from her chained bed. From the first scene she wanted to vomit, but she couldn’t take her eyes away. She was that bored.

The scene was four kidnapped girls in a basement. Stripped. Fucked. Whipped while tied spread eagled on their exposed vaginas. Ashley gasped at the sight of that, and held her own bare legs close together while watching it. Was this what the guys wanted her to endure? Was she supposed to learn to like it? They hadn’t actually hit her aside from a few face slaps. They had, however, made her cum. Just like the women in the videos. It had horribly humiliated her at first, particularly because she was loud at it. Now she just endured it and tried to hide her pleasure.

Watching the girls on the tapes, Ashley did realize one thing. They didn’t have to actively participate. They could be excused for just lying there and taking it. Ashley had been forced to be on top, to kneel and suck them off, to make an effort towards her own rape. Not a day had gone by in which each of the guys hadn’t raped her somewhere. Anal was the worst. And blow jobs were gross. She’d adjusted to both. Would she adjust to bondage and whipping if they forced it on her.

That same evening, left alone again, Ashley found herself looking at the tapes again, watching a women suffer horrible slapping, whipping, and stringent bondage. She allowed herself to masturbate while watching it.

Some vague number of days later

Ashley was flat on her back, her legs parted, and her wrists and ankles lashed tightly to the corners of her bed. Todd’s cock was in her cunt. John’s was in her mouth. She’d been taught, with some pain, how to lick and properly use her mouth, but her cunt was on its own. Was John going to let her swallow it, or would he put it on her face? There was no way to know. She felt him start to spurt. She could taste the warm, salty drink on her tongue. But then he pulled it out and dumped his load onto her face. She whimpered, trying to get her mouth under the spurt, and licking whatever she could.

“She’s a real cock slut now, aren’t you girl?”

“Uh huh,” she said, trying to hide her shame. Somehow she wanted to swallow their cum. Maybe she was hungry. She certainly was very hungry. They didn’t feed her much. Now she had to focus on the cock grinding away in her pussy. If felt so good she soon forgot about her lost cum. Her hips were grinding against Todd’s. As her captors watched her latest defilement, she found herself unable to hide her lust from them. It was tougher to try with each passing day.

“Yes, harder!” she finally cried out loud, then stopped, flushed with shame at her admission.

“Give up, Ashley, you can’t hide it from us. Jeez,” Todd said as he continued pounding her. “What are you resisting, anyway?”

Ashley began crying. What was she resisting? She was becoming something she didn’t recognize. She was liking too much of what they were doing. She was forgetting too often that she was their victim. They called her a sex slave, but she thought rape slave was a better term. It was more about what she was now. But still, at her core, she knew it wasn’t right.

She screamed with a bucking orgasm as Todd brought her to climax. He was still going, drawing out her own pleasure, but soon he came inside her. Keith took his place, giving Ashley no rest at all. She was passing some kind of threshold now that their treatment of her body was intensifying. She eagerly took Jake’s cock in her mouth when it was presented, and sucked at it to get what cum she could from it.

All six of them fucked her that afternoon. Ashley looked forward to being untied, but it wasn’t meant to be. Rather than untie her, they simply rolled the TV into her view and began playing a long video about enslaved girls in a castle providing not only sex but also all the naked hard labor around the grounds. Their scars and red welts testified to their harsh treatment.

Keith showed her something for the first time. It was the first sex toy she recognized, having seen vibrators in her mother’s dresser drawer. He put it into her sore but satisfied vagina and turned it on before they all left her. The long play video went on for almost six hours. The lithium batteries in the vibrator lasted even longer. But they left her lashed to the bed with cum on her face until the next morning.

The effect of that long evening on Ashley’s perceptions, lying there cumming and watching scenes of enslavement, was electric. She knew she would just do what they wanted. She would do anything if they let her off the bed and upstairs. They were going to rape her anyway. She may as well be upstairs. She’d rather do the chores and cook their meals and do their laundry and clean up their mess than stay chained and useless in the dark old basement.

She looked up eagerly, but tiredly when the guys came down the stairs in the morning. It had been a long, frustrating night. After cumming all evening, she couldn’t touch herself at all during the night, despite the dead vibrator in her reminding her of her pussy. “And how are you feeling this morning?” Jake asked.

“Please, let me get off the bed now,” Ashley said slowly. “I, I’ll be your sex slave now.”

“I think you already are,” Todd said.

“No, I mean I want to go upstairs. I won’t run away. I’ll do what I’m told. I’ll do all the chores. You don’t have to give me clothes or anything. I’ll be a real slave.”

They gazed at her for a while. “Alright,” Frank said. “On a trial basis. And we’ll keep you closely watched.”

“Yes, thank you,” Ashley said as they untied her. For the first time in weeks, since her arrival, she finally got the padlocked collar off her neck. They led her upstairs. She looked around and sighed. The place was a mess.

“In honor of your new status,” Keith said while John ran to the other room, “We won’t fuck you just yet today. There’s breakfast to cook, a pile of laundry to do. None of it yours, obviously, and a ton of work to get this place looking liveable.”

John returned with a pair of ankle cuffs, with two feet of slack to them. “We don’t want you running off,” he told her as he cuffed her feet.

“I understand. I won’t run off,” Ashley said. “I’ll be a good slave.”

“Maybe. But you’re not there yet,” Frank told her.

“When will I be there?” she asked. “I want to be there.” That was a lie. She’d still rather go home. But this was bearable.

“We’ll tell you when you’re ready,” Billy told her. “Now go cook my breakfast, slut.”

Ashley spent the next many weeks working around the cabin and fucking the guys. They were not particularly creative, but they were eager, and kept her cunt, mouth, and ass well used. Ashley cried herself to sleep more often than not, but with each passing day she found her enslavement less humiliating and more natural. Or rather, less unnatural. But she never lost the leg irons, and always slept chained in the basement. And she came at least twenty times a day, whether she wanted it or not.

One day, when she was sitting watching some new slave porn, she was struck by an idea. “Sirs, if you stuck that short handled broom up my ass and made me clean with it, I’ll bet you could make me cry,” she said casually.

“Hmm,” Billy replied. It was mid afternoon and they were all fairly sleepy. “What?”

“Make me sweep with the broom in my ass. A slave should be humiliated, right? A sex slave should.”

“Ashley, are you actually suggesting ways for us to mistreat you now?” John asked.

“Huh. Oh. Um. Yeah,” she said, flustered. She’d just blurted out the idea without thinking. It seemed like something they could try on her. She’d been watching the girl on the tape taking the butt plug off the floor, but there was a broom in the background and the idea just clicked for her.

“You want to be sexually mistreated, don’t you?” Jake asked her. “You want to be raped!”

“So what if I do!” she cried, suddenly embarrassed again.

“So, it means you’re finally a good slave. A good, sex, rape, pleasure slave.”

“I am? That’s the definition?”

Keith shrugged. “As good as any,” he said.

“So, does this mean I can sleep upstairs? Can I take off the ankle chains?”

“Of course not. Slaves don’t get that kind of freedom. Like you said, a slave girl should be humiliated. Now about that broom idea...” John said.

Ashley spent the rest of the afternoon as happy as she’d been since before her abduction. She felt as good as when she was free, as happy, and far more content. Of course they did the broom idea with her, and on prodding she came up with several other ideas she’d had but not shared. Of course some of the ideas were intense, and Ashley was still brought to tears and screams, but the mood over the next couple days was as happy as it had ever been. Ashley went to sleep in the evening thinking to herself. “I want to stay forever,” she thought. “I don’t want to get dressed.”

In the morning, she saw suitcases out in the living room. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“The rental agreement ends tomorrow,” Jake told her. “Our time is over.”

Ashley felt like a hammer had struck her. “But, no! It can’t be over!”

“It is. You’ve got school in a little over a week. We have to get back home.”

“Oh.” She stood there, dead inside. For the first time in a while, she remember that she was a helpless, nude captive. She was no longer even a passive participant. She was just a piece of fuck meat being discarded. “What happens to me?”

“Get in the car. We’ll take you someplace.”

“Can’t I please have a goodbye fuck?” she begged.

“I think we can manage that,” Billy said.

Two hours later Ashley was lying in the trunk of the car. She was still naked, but not tightly bound. Only her hands were tied behind her. The guys, her masters, hadn’t said where exactly they would take her. She only knew it was far from the cabin and close to home. They didn’t seem worried that she would report the crime. Of course the police would talk to her, but she wasn’t going to tell them anything.

The car stopped and the trunk lid finally opened. Jake helped her out of the car. They were along an empty stretch of road. It was a hot, early afternoon. “Please, don’t dump me out here,” she begged. “At least tell me which way is it to town.”

“Either way will get you to a town, Ashley. Have a great life, and maybe we’ll see you sometime,” Keith told her. Jake gave her a kiss, and then they were back in the car, driving off.

Ashley just stood there for a while, letting the hot sun soak her nude body. She couldn’t get free of the ropes. She would just have to walk and wait for someone to rescue her. She set off down the highway, wondering what she would encounter next.

Hunted


Leslie, twenty,  woke up slowly, with her head pounding and her limbs weak. She’d been at the club, but her memories grew hazy. Where was she? She looked around and saw that she was outside. Way outside. She gazed into the distance and saw only hills, mountain peaks, and fields like the one she was in. And she was naked. Her clothes were gone, and she’d been lying on the ground. She was cold.

“Good, you’re up,” the man’s voice said from behind her. She screamed and turned around, her hands flying to cover her naked breasts and pussy. The man was seated on a log, fully dressed, with a small pack on his back. He also carried several rifles. He was glaring at her with a cold stare.

“What? What happened? Who are you?”

“I’m not here to talk to you,” he said.

“Please, give me back my clothes!” she cried.

“Your clothes are in a trash bin three hundred miles from here. Now listen up, girl. See this?” He held up a rifle of some kind. Leslie gulped and nodded. “You’re allowed one hit with this. It’ll knock you out and allow me to enjoy you. But for the second, I use this one.” He held up another rifle. “These are ordinary bullets. If you haven’t escaped after the trank, too bad for you, huh.”

He pointed up in the sky. Leslie followed his gaze. “Look at the hawk on the far right.” Leslie gazed. They were low flying birds, but still hundreds of feet up. She screamed when the gun went off, and the bird came tumbling from the air.

“Stop thinking of yourself as an office worker, Leslie!” the man said sharply. “Now you’re prey. Be an animal, and you might live. Maybe. But no one has yet.”

“No!” she sobbed, shaking badly in terror in front of this psycho. He turned the gun towards her.

“You get ten minutes, then I come after you, Leslie.”

“Nooo!”

“Move it!” he shouted. Leslie jumped and began fleeing. She didn’t know where she was going, just trying to get out of sight. Her mind and body were overcome with sensations, mindless terror, naked flight from danger. She’d been naked in public, outdoors. Once. In college. But this helplessness was a hundred times more savage to her frightened mind. How could it be real? How could a man shoot her dead? The tears in her eyes blinded her, making her flight awkward and stumbling, but she reached some trees.

Her panic grew as she ran and ran until her lungs were burning and her heart was nearly fluttering. She was a good runner, and routinely did laps at the indoor track at the university. But what the killer probably didn’t know was that Leslie was badly agoraphobic. Cities were fine, but the countryside was not. She was not just fleeing from a sadist, but from the outdoors itself. Yet all the running got her nowhere, and the open sky and grand spaces of the mountain west burdened down on her like a weight on her chest.

When her body finally gave out and she crashed to the ground, she could only curl up in the tiniest ball possible, hysterically sobbing with her eyes clenched shut. “Help me!” she shrieked when she had breath enough for it. “Help me somebody!” She threw up, partly from terror and partly from exhaustion. Slowly, though, she gained enough control to run again, but not nearly as fast as before. Her legs were already sore from the extended flight. If she needed to, she couldn’t sprint away from the killer.

She came to a shallow river. She stumbled in, hoping he couldn’t track her over the rocks. She staggered along, slipping and sometimes falling. Her nude body was taking a beating from the rocks but she kept going, unmindful of the slippery terrain. Something in her mind told her to follow the river downstream.

And then she felt the twinge. She stopped cold, looking down to see a dart sticking out from her right breasts. The hole around it was turning red and swollen. She felt light and collapsed into the cold water.

Her face was submerged only for ten or fifteen seconds, but she wasn’t moving. She was barely conscious, enough to feel the water sucked into her lungs. Then an arm was around her waist, pulling her out and dropping her naked form onto the dry dirt. The killer stood over her. She only slightly comprehended the danger. “Forty five minutes. Not bad actually. I’ve had girls last a day without my catching them, but usually its more like ten minutes.”

She couldn’t even turn over. The drug that entered through her tit left her body immobile, but also left her mind in a haze. She was staring to one side, at the vast scene below the open field and the mountains below. Rather than raw terror she felt only the dull, persistent mental ache of a repeating scene in a bad dream that lingers near the time of waking. The killer was out of her sight for a time. When she felt her faculties returning to her, she was dragged and tied up, dangling by her arms and legs from four trees. She momentarily felt better. The foliage hid the sky and the sublime landscape from her eyes.

But only for a moment was she relieved. The killer was there, holding blades. She was hanging face up, spread wide, utterly helpless. She screamed when she saw the knives, but her struggles were no good. She only added bloody ligature marks to her otherwise already bruised up body.

“Trendy whore,” he said with a bit of a snarl, running the knife over her belly. “I told you to be an animal. But you had to be a girl. A whining, frightened, useless little girl.” The knife was pressing down hard on her skin. Leslie cried out as she felt it break the skin on her left breast. “Help me somebody,” he said in a high, mocking tone. “I couldn’t lose you with you screaming out your position to me.”

“Help, no,” she whispered. He suddenly slashed the knife hard across her chest, cutting a long gash over her right and especially her left breast.

“Yes!” he hissed at her. She cried out in pain from her cut tits. Then he began running the knife over her cheek. Leslie just whimpered pathetically in terror. Her brain kept saying that if she showed enough submission he would stop hurting her. It wasn’t working, but it had to work. Even when he cut her cheek and moved the knife down to her pussy it somehow had to work.

“Worthless whore!” he hissed at her, running the blade along her clit. With a flick of his wrist, the edge sliced into her most tender and sensitive flesh. She shrieked in shock and agony. Then the killer began to get undressed. She was hanging at his waist level. Moments later, she let out another anguished cry of pain and horror when he shoved his cock into her, rubbing along her cut clit and bringing forth a second, even more pitiful shriek of agony. His thrusts were harsh and rapid. Leslie’s pain was unbelievable as she bled over his cock. He only slowed when he took his hands off her hips and grabbed at her titties. His strong, thick fingers clutched and squeezed them before twisting at them, as if he could pull them from her body.

It lasted over forty minutes, and his control was excellent. Leslie thrashed her head about as he alternated between mauling and cutting her, but rarely taking his cock from her mangled pussy. He did finally unload his seed into her belly. If Leslie hoped it would sate his rage, she was mistaken. But it did lead her to her second chance at escape.

The sadist cleaned himself up first. Then he got dressed and approached Leslie’s dangling form again. Without warning, he punched her hard across her jaw. She spit out blood and two of her teeth, screaming in agony from the blow. He approached her crotch again. She flinched and wept hysterically, wondering what he would do down there. He picked up a rock, rough and irregularly shaped, but two or three inches wide. He opened her cunt lips with his fingers and then began to stuff the jagged stone into her cunt. She shrieked and thrashed about again, but to no avail as he used the butt end of a hunting knife to jam the stone all the way inside her, more than ten inches deep.

He released the ropes lifting her, letting her abused, naked form fall to the ground. He grabbed her, flipped her onto her belly, and then locked a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, behind her back. Then he grabbed the other rifle, the one that fired real bullets. “I won’t rape you again, Leslie. That’s a promise. I’ll give you ten minutes, and next time I see you I do my level best to kill you dead. Best run along now!”

Leslie sobbed and gasped, but managed to struggle to her feet without her hands free. Her flight into the trees was awkward and stumbling, but frantically fast. Her dizzy mind just told her to avoid obviously landmarks. Avoid rivers. Avoid any place he might think she would go. She set a moderate jogging pace, swerving and dodging, trying to be erratic. But when she burst out into a field again, her old phobic terror hit her like a hammer once again.

She was totally alone, totally lost, totally naked, and trapped in a vast, mountainous trap. She would have given anything just to wear something again, just to be less helpless, less exposed and vulnerable. Given a choice between clothing and getting the sharp rock from her cunt, she would have taken the clothes. She was so very, very exposed.

She sobbed openly as she fled, keeping her eyes to the ground, with no idea where she was going. But each minute that passed without a gunshot was a great relief.

Was he tracking her. She’d seen no sign of him for an hour. Or two. She didn’t really know. Was it still morning. She collapsed into the grass of the open field as a wave of agoraphobic panic over took her. She threw her head back, screaming in terror and shame. Then she collapsed to the ground, hoping the tall weeds kept her out of sight, and cried as quietly as she could for a while. “I don’t want this,” she kept sobbing, almost in a whisper. “I really don’t want this!”

In time she got to her feet again. She was able to look at the endless landscape without getting dizzy, but she headed a new direction, into higher, rougher land. It was her only chance of getting away. To survive the killer she had to avoid the killer. For the next hours she stayed low, even waddling on her knees to stay low and avoid noise. Her knees were banged up, scraped, and bruised with each step, but her rape and torture had made it more than clear to her just how much deadly danger she was in. She wept, but continued onward.

She hadn’t had a bite to eat since the day before, and no water since the river. As the sun grew low on the horizon her stomach was in pain and she was weak. The lower the sun, the cooler the air became, and Leslie found herself shivering and unable to go on. She was unfathomably miserable, shamed, terrified, and exposed. All she could do was lie down, make herself as comfortable in a small ball as she could with her chained hands, and try to wait out the night. It was an endless night, cold, barren, hard, and horrifying. The land made noises at night that made Leslie scream aloud, practically out of her own skin. And it was so very cold out.

She didn’t even know if she’d slept when she saw traces of light. When she could, she got up and stumbled onward. It was a never ending nightmare, and Leslie’s terror of being stranded outdoors had returned after being relieved by the veil of night.

She’d still not seen the sadist since her brutal rape. She hoped he was far away. She kept heading up to higher country, and when she crossed over the top of a minor ridge she saw a meadow ahead. She stifled a scream when she saw the campsite and the man seated facing away from her. But a moment later she cried out in relief. It wasn’t him. Clearly it wasn’t not him. She ran forward.

“Help me!” she sobbed as she stumbled forward. “Please, help me!”

The man turned to look at her. She had to be a sight, and she was certainly reminded by his presence that she was a naked, lost, handcuffed girl. His eyes seemed to penetrate her. She continued forward though, until she saw around him the sight that had kept his attention. Another girl, also nude, was staked down the ground, bleeding from a hundred wounds. Her jaw dropped and she tried to stop cold, falling to her knees to scream.

“I didn’t know Travis was up here hunting poon this weekend,” he said as he looked her up and down.

“No!” she shrieked. “No, it can’t!”

The man took out a large revolver and fired three shots into the ground in rapid order. “There you go, baby doll. That’ll get him here for you.”

“No!!” she cried one more time before turning to flee. It was inconceivable that her rescue should end up doubling her terror and danger. But it did. She ran in a blind panic, back exactly the way she came. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. And finally she saw him, her sadist. He was no more than a hundred feet away from her. She turned to flee, but went no more than two steps before the felt the hot pain of the bullet hit her right thigh. She fell forward, unable to move herself further. She managed to roll onto her back to see her killer walking towards her.

“Please!” she shrieked, trying to push herself back with her left leg. “Please! Don’t kill me! Please. I don’t want to die!”

“That’s too bad, Leslie. You had the thrill of erotic chase and injury. At least now you get to die in a way that few girls will get to. Try to focus on the sensual nature of your passing.”

“No!” she shrieked one more time before he shot her in her belly. The pain was unbearable. He peered at her. “I guess you get an hour or two to think things over,” he said. Then he reached down and removed her handcuffs. “Since your second chase was so surprisingly good, it looks like you’ve got one more chance,” he told her. “Get to a hospital in the next hour or two, and you can be saved. So long, Leslie.”

She screamed incoherently as he walked away. Her hands were free now, but she was bleeding too badly to move. And now, immobile, without the chase, she could only lie in the grass and ponder the vast, terrifying expanse of the Rockies spread out around her. That would be her final companion in life, because she was too weak to crawl for shelter in the trees a quarter mile distant.

She lay crying in agony for well over an hour, in fact. As her vision grew blurred, she saw a helicopter fly low over her. It turned back. Through her tears she may have seen the pilot wave once before leaving her alone. “Why me?” she gasped with her last words. Her last screams were silent ones, of a terror beyond human as the empty space around her naked, battered female body swallowed her up and coldness took her away.

WHO IS JACK SCHITT?

WHO IS JACK  SCHITT?

For some time many of us have wondered just who is Jack Schitt?

We find ourselves at a loss when someone says, 'You don't know Jack Schitt'!

Well, thanks to my genealogy efforts, you can now respond in an intellectual way.

Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt.   Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, who married O. Schitt, the owner of Needeep N. Schitt, Inc.   They had one son, Jack.

In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt.  The deeply religious couple produced six children: Holie Schitt, Giva Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt.

Against her  parent's objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout. 

After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced.

Noe Schitt later married Ted Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name. She was then known as Noe Schitt Sherlock.

Meanwhile, Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt, and they produced a son with a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Schitt. Two of the other six children, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt, were inseparable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony.

The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens nuptials. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg,  Byrd, and Horse.

Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world.

He recently returned from Italy with his new Italian bride, Pisa Schitt.

Now when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt", you can correct them.

Sincerely,

Crock O. Schitt

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You Scored as Jigsaw

You are Jigsaw. You dont enjoy killing people at all. You instead love to see how far people will go to live. However if it ends in a bloody death, you still sleep with a smile on your face. You are intelligent, and know how to outwit just about anyone. And that spells bad news for anyone who falls into your games of death and torture.

Jigsaw
90%
Pinhead
70%
Captain Spaulding
50%
Freddy Krueger
45%
Hannibal Lecter
40%
Buffalo Bill
40%
Leatherface
35%
Candyman
30%
Michael Myers
20%
Jason Voorhees
20%
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You Scored as Demon

Demon: Darkness is your sanctuary. Demons are many and are all different in appearence and rank. The most common are the ones that feed off of human souls. They love to make someone fall into their inner darkness. Blood, wrath, murder... You name it they love it. These beings don't care who you are, if they set their sights on you, let's just hope you know a good excorist. They kill any love within you and pull you toward their side. By any means possible. You wish for chaos and hate, you are the Demon.

Demon
100%
WereWolf
67%
Angel
50%
Dragon
25%
Mermaid
25%
Faerie
8%
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You Scored as Death Rocker

You are a Death Rocker. You think beyond the 80s (cause you really like zombies, psychedelia, and B-movies) and are into the colorful, twisted side of the goth culture (which is portrayed in all your lovely horror-rock shows). Click on my name to take my other tests if you liked this one.

Death Rocker
67%
Old-school Goth
63%
Industrial/Rivet-Head
58%
Romantic Goth
54%
Confused Outsider
38%
Fantasy Goth
33%
Anything-Goes Goth
33%
Perky Goff
33%
Understanding Outsider
25%
Cyber-goth
21%
Ethereal Goth
8%
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