EPILOGUE
When the doors to the elevator opened Roy herded the three teenagers he had
detain for shoplifting towards the mock security office far underground of the
shopping mall a evil smile spread across his face. Yep; Roy had though that he
would hate being a security guard at one of the nation's largest Shopping Malls
but no longer. But as fate would have it Roy wouldn't now give this security job
up for any other job on earth. After all what other job would he have a wide
assortment of playthings to select from. In the three years he had worked at
this mall he had acquired ten living sex toys.
There was Tricia O'Neil his first fucktoy. He had caught her shoplifting
items from the mall so she could pawn them to feed her starving babies. She
didn't last long before she died from a crush windpipe. Roy still roared with
laughter at the thought of Tricia's stepfather, (who he had framed) spend life
without the possibility of parole for her death. Then there was Wendy Hughes a
teenager who stole CD's and a CD-player from a mall music store after she was
molested by her own father in the shower. Not only did Wendy became his next
fucktoy but also Roy had tricked her mother Linda into becoming a fucktoy also.
He had resigned Wendy to being a bronco busting plaything and her mother to a
torturous life as a human-doggy. To be fucked by a real dog and suck a real
dog's pussy. Next came Donna Littleton, followed by Susan Knight, then Mary
Duncan, Peggy Knight, Brenda Lang, Sally Cook, and Beth Johnson.
Of the ten only Wendy, her mother Linda, Peggy and Beth were still alive. The
other six had died in one-way or another. Now he had three more fresh, succulent
teens to torture at his whim. A perfect backer's dozen. He was going to enjoy
torturing the three of them as a set. He wondered if any of the three would
survive the agonizing games he had planed for them. He didn't care the only ones
he wanted to keep alive as long as possible was Linda and Wendy. The Mother,
daughter dual. He knew that both of their minds has snapped long ago but he just
couldn't part with them. Wendy had been on the splintery sawhorse for over two
years. Each and every second being kept wide-awake by powerful stimulates with
nothing to eat or drink except for his piss and sperm. While the mother live
like a dog. A very ill treated dog that was constantly kicked with a steel-toed
boot directly to her battered twat.
Yep; this was the perfect life. An endless supply of twats to do with as he
please. Life couldn't get any better then this.
THE END
THE MALL OF TORTURE
