To Obey
by Fire-Bird.
Chapter 97 "Everybody HATES Bob"
Bob waited for the dull throb in his head to subside. He opened his eyes
a little and realised that the room was in total darkness. He took a quick
account of where he was and why. He remembered hurting Cindy and then
someone hit him from behind. Bob then noticed the ropes on his wrists and
ankles. He tried to move a little and was rewarded with a sharp pain in his
side. Possibly a bruised rib.
He waited there for what seemed like an hour. He resisted in calling out
as he didn't want his captives to accelerate their plans with him. Then
he wondered if they were coming back for him and he was simply being left
here to die from starvation.
Bob didn't like that idea. He ignored the pain in his side and rolled over
to his right. So far so good. The floor was certainly colder on this side
of his body. He wondered how long he had been there. He propped himself up
on one elbow and quickly lifted his head.
*Whack!* Bob's head bounced off the bottom of something metallic and he
resumed his unconscious state. A small bruise on the side of his temple
began to colour. Bob's last thought was, 'Idiot!'
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In the kitchen Cindy lay on the table. Her father Paul had called over his
friend Dave and they were inspecting her privates. Cindy winced a couple
of times as they stroked and rubbed her sore clit.
"Doesn't look too bad Paul, probably needs a couple of days rest. Can you
hang out that long? ... I can always send Melissa over if you want?"
"Thanks Dave, I'd like that. Cindy! Get up and have a shower. You smell
like shit. Dave and I are going to have a chat with Bob."
Cindy sat up, nodded to her father and went upstairs. Only when she was out
of sight did she smile. Bob had really hurt her and she was glad to be
getting some revenge.
Paul unlocked and opened the basement door. Both men went down and Paul
turned on all the lights in the room from the main switch. The yelp of
pain alerted the men to where Bob lay. Paul went over to the cabinet and
pulled out a syringe and was rummaging through a drawer while Dave ventured
over to their captive.
"Evening .. Bob is it? Okay Bob. This is what happened. You've been invited
into Paul's home and it's not even your second day and you've really hurt
his daughter. Now Bob, I think you can imagine we're none too happy about
this. I'll ease your mind at the fact we haven't decided whether to kill you
or not. So instead we're just going to do some stuff to you. If you survive,
good. If not, no big loss from what I hear."
Bob wasn't listening. He was too busy blinking his eyes furiously to adjust
them to the bright light. He tried to focus on Dave but his eyes were just
too watery. He felt someone grab his shoulders and helped him to sit up.
"Water." mumbled Bob.
Paul held up the syringe. Dave smiled.
"Sure Bob, open your mouth and keep it open. It might hurt a bit."
Bob opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. It was dry as a bone. Dave
held Bob's tongue while Paul inserted the needle into the back of Bob's
tongue. Bob was too out of it to even notice. Paul injected all of the
contents of the syringe into Bob's tongue. Dave released the tongue and
a few seconds later Bob started gagging and thrashing about in pain.
Dave looked to Paul. "Was that all of the Bee-Sting poison?"
Paul shook his head, "Not yet, if he survives this I'm going to let Cindy
inject this fuckers cock with the last of it."
Both men watched as Bob continued to thrash about on the floor.
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Ivy seethed at her step-daughter. Jenny just smiled. She twisted the whip
handle inside Ivy's mangled and bloody cunt again. Ivy yelped and sobbed.
Jenny had Ivy's blood on her hands so she wiped it across Ivy's face.
"How are we doing Mummy?" asked Jenny.
Ivy glared at her. She knew she only had a couple of days before she was
shipped off to the slave auctions and that Jenny was going to do her best
to break her spirit before then. The voice in the back of Ivy's head said
Jenny wasn't far off either.
Ivy was tied to the wall in an X formation. Her hands were bound up above
her head and she could no longer feel her fingers. Her skin felt brittle
and dry. Ivy had hoped her ex-husband John would come in and see her in her
condition. Yesterday he had, and the fucker hadn't said a bloody word.
In fact, he smiled.
Jenny motioned for the porters to put a spreader bar on Ivy's ankles. It
was then connected to a rope in the ceiling and lifted to Ivy's chest
height. The weight on Ivy's wrists was enormous. Jenny preferred Ivy this
way. The whip handle was still embedded in Ivy's cunt. The whip's tendrils
hung down between Ivy's legs.
Taking a serrated edged blade Jenny ran the tip teasingly over Ivy's bare
soles. Ivy grimaced. Jenny knew she was ticklish there. But her aim today
wasn't to tickle.
"Ready Mummy?"
Jenny didn't bother waiting. She placed the blade edge at the top of Ivy's
right foot and yanked downwards. Ivy screamed in pain. The deep gash in her
foot immediately bloodied. Jenny sliced again and again. Ivy's wrists were
bloodied from her frenzy to get away. Time and time again Jenny sliced and
dug deep into her step-mother's feet. A porter got to close to the action
and was knocked in the mouth by the spreader bar. Jenny responded to the
action by removing both Ivy's little toes.
Jenny moved to Ivy's side and jabbed upwards into Ivy's buttocks with the
knife. Ivy yelled in pain. Jenny kept up her stabbing for a good five
minutes. Jenny was intent on breaking her, before the slave auction.
_______________________________
John was busy himself with Priest, one of his oldest staff members. Priest
had betrayed John's trust and was unfortunately caught. John had been
torturing the old monk for over a month. Even John had to admit Priest was
a tough old bugger however a few days earlier John had made a decision and
that was Priest wouldn't see the end of the week.
Priest had to agree with him, anymore of this boredom and he would happily
'off' himself.
"Come on Johnny-boy." hissed Priest. "Give me your best. I haven't felt a
thing for weeks."
John ignored him and stoked the fire in which the branding irons were
heating up. John knew full well that Priest would close his mind to ignore
the pain. A fact that didn't irritate John in the least. He never had an
opponent who lasted so long. It was intriguing.
Hot flecks of coal swarm around the air over the fire. The branding irons
wouldn't be too far away. He walked over to Priest.
"Last time Priest. What did you tell your Order when you gave them the key
to the building?"
Priest rolled his head over to look at John, and smiled. John looked at the
Monk's toothy grin. Last week John had pulled out every second tooth. Priest
didn't even whimper. Not even when he extracted both eye-teeth.
John took hold of some fishing nylon which was dangling from the ceiling.
He stretched it's end to where Priest's cock was. On the end was a nasty barbed
looking fish-hook. John signaled a porter to come over. The porter took Priest's
cock and pulled it up to the fish-hook. Priest groaned as his body was stretched
upwards. John forced the hook under the cock-head.
John looked at Priest and thought, 'Yeah, that hurt didn't it.' Dribble rolled
down Priest's lips and onto his chest. It intermingled with the dried blood on
a cut on Priest's chest. John removed one of the branding irons from the fire.
It glowed menacingly.
"Last chance?" he offered.
Priest stared right through him with hatred in his eyes. John sighed and
placed the iron on top of Priest's cock. Immediately the skin sizzled and
burnt the pubic hair. Priest closed his eyes and hissed. The iron was already
burning away at his flesh. John didn't force it downwards, he just let the
iron do it's work. The smell of cooked meat filled the area and to Priest's
credit, he didn't scream.
John watched and waited. The iron was half-way through. The cock would no
longer be of any use now. The heat burnt the blood vessels and ripped through
the nerves. Yet Priest hadn't said a word. His whole body was taunt with
pain as he was stretched forward at a gross angle.
John knew Priest was in agony and was probably insane by now. Finally the
iron tore through the last of the cock-meat and Priest's penis swung away
dangling from the fishing wire. John lifted the branding iron and touched
it to one of Priest's nipples. There wasn't any response.
John knew Priest was now dead.
He turned to the porter, "Remove the heart and cut off the head. Send it
to his order. I'm sure the head-monk would like it for dinner. John threw
the iron onto the ground where it made a large clanging noise.
He was very angry.
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