Debauchery on Faculty Row

Chase's other hand came free just as the barbarian spread Abby's ass cheeks and roughly stroked her vagina. His disgusting tongue probed her puckered anus. She was thrashing around, fighting the bonds valiantly as he roughly shoved a massive dildo between Abby's flailing legs and forced it into her vagina, laughing a coughing, diabolic, evil laugh as he did. It was made a hundred fold more dreadful amplified through that infernal voice disguising nightmare cackling coming through the speaker.

The adrenaline rush was coursing through Chase's veins like lightning. He was twisting his foot slowly, wiggling his ankles to free his feet from the loose bonds: the last of the restraints still holding him.

As soon as he felt the coarse rope slide off his feet, he was ready.

He could barely breathe as he waited for the demon behind him to get in just the right spot.

It didn't take long. As the ringleader readied himself, fingering Abby's anus, preparing to slide a massive dildo into her backside, the animal behind him started rubbing Chase's shoulders again, running his course hands over Chase's cheeks.

In one fell swoop, Chase thrust his feet against the floor with every ounce of strength he could muster, rolling backward in the chair as he arched his back in a backward somersault. He knew he only had one shot and he was praying the element of surprise caught the behemoth behind him totally off guard.

With every ounce of strength he could muster, he kicked his legs up over the head of the animal behind him, locked his ankles behind the massive head and squeezed with all his might. He could feel his ankles digging into his greasy flesh, crushing the warped fucker's head. Pecker Breath was screaming out like a wounded animal. Thankfully, his caterwauling went unheard outside the soundproofed booth as Chase jerked his entire body, twisting his hips and legs in a crushing death grip. The animal's tortured cries echoed eerily off the stone floor and walls.

Chase applied every ounce of pressure his muscular legs could exert, feeling the animal's eye orbits crack under the pressure.

In a flash, Chase violently flipped over on to his stomach in the opposite direction, twisting the pig's neck savagely. The crack could be heard ringing sickly off the walls of the alcove, unheard by the demented perverts performing their sick, twisted show on the stage.

Chase flipped back in the other direction and effortlessly slung the behemoth to the floor, still twisting his neck as the thug flew ass over teakettle and landed on his face in Chase's earlier vomit puddle. Chase was certain after all the thrashing he'd just inflicted that he nearly twisted the demon's head off of his shoulders.

Chase knew beyond a doubt that he'd severed the bastard's neck. He wouldn't be causing any poor, unsuspecting woman-or anyone else-any further nightmares ever again. His buggering days were over.

It seemed like an eternity, but in reality it was over with in a flash. Chase didn't stop to see the damage. He was blinded by rage. Adrenaline coursed through him like a raging river. The sick, gurgling grunts coming from the demon, prostate on the floor, his face in the drying vomit, just confirmed it.

Chase bolted from the chair and barreled through the thick plexiglass door, breaking it off of its hinges, and steamrolled his way to the front, his swollen balls impeding his charge only slightly, just as the sick fuck was roughly forcing the dildo in Abby's rectum. She was thrashing helplessly against her bonds, her muffled cries tearing Chase up inside.

The psychopath was so engrossed in his sick, lurid activity that he never saw Chase jumping from table to table, coming for him.

The shocked, petrified gasp emitting from the electronic voice box echoed from the speakers as the devil gasped in utter shock as Chase flew from a table into a flying roundhouse kick, working strictly from a primal level he'd never experienced before. He caught the sadist squarely in the throat, dropping him instantly.

As he fell, Chase caught him with another solid, flying kick to his chest. The ringmaster flew back against the wall like a sack of flour, smashing against it with a sickening thud. Chase could hear the electronically enhanced whoosh of air as it rushed from the downed monster's lungs.

Two down. Chase was running on nothing more than raw, primal, lower brain stimuli. In reality, Doctor Chase Brandt wasn't in control. One of his prehistoric ancestors was directing his actions.

The minion, seeing the melee, scrambled for the stairs the instant he saw his master fly through the air.

Chase flew across the room, again bounding off of tables and chairs, and caught him before he reached the middle of the staircase.

Rage still at the helm, Chase grabbed him by the neck and the back of his robe and dragged him roughly down the stairs.

At the bottom, he lifted the puny little monster over his head and slammed him against the jagged stone wall with all the strength he possessed. A girlish scream, followed by a loud gasp of air escaped him.

Still blinded by fury, Chase picked him up by the throat and the leg, held him over his head and dropped him roughly over his knee, breaking his back like a twig. The gasp of horror and terror escaping the evil minion was cut off the instant his spine separated somewhere in the thoracic area.

He grabbed the twitching form by the collar and dragged him across the course floor and back into the chamber, piling him roughly beside the ringleader. He wasn't taking any chances.

Chase moved like lightening. When he got to the back of the room, the gorilla lay on the floor, motionless, his head at a precarious angle. The glassy, dead eyes and gray pallor Chase saw when he tore off his mask told the tale. He could no longer offer Chase, or anyone else for that matter, any further problems.

Chase bolted back to the ringleader who he was fairly certain wouldn't be moving anytime soon and, for good measure, kicked the sick, twisted fuck, squarely in the face through his demonic mask three or four times just because it felt good. Rage still coursed through his body. His normally docile demeanor and temperance flew out the window; completely against all his years of martial arts training for tempered balance. Even with the immediate threat quelled, Chase was still in an alien state at the same terrifying level.

"Sit tight, Girls!" Chase spun the frame back to an upright position. "I'll cut you lose in a minute."

He gently removed the anoscopes from Stephanie and Kay's rectums, and the disgusting, spiked dildo from Abby vagina. Thankfully, the devil hadn't had time to carry out his intended anal intrusion on the terrified Abby.

Abby was thrashing around, petrified. Chase's heart broke. Seeing the woman he loved so violently abused caused sheer anguish and compassion to begin to quell the fiery rage he was feeling.

Chase's concentration quickly focused on the potential for further danger from the situation they were in. He had no idea who might be lurking in the shadows, but the girls came first.

Stephanie anus was bleeding badly. Blood ran down the back of her bruised legs. Both Kay and Stephanie were out cold. Abby was incoherent.

A quick glance at Kay let Chase know that she'd been there for longer than the other two. She was badly beaten and abused. Bruises, welts and deep cuts covered her thighs, her breasts, her buttocks, her back and her arms.

He looked to the table. A nauseating display of sick and inhumane torture devices were spread out in meticulous order as if they were on an OR surgical tray. The red spot lights were shining mockingly from the unholy implements.

He found a scalpel among the urethral sounds, mouth clamps, tile nippers, a torch, and other, even more perverse gadgets that caused bile to run into Chase's throat.

A shiver ran down his entire body as he dared wonder just how far those twisted bastards would have gone if he hadn't gotten free.

He wrapped his arms around Abby's tiny waist, kissing her wet, shaking cheek over and over as he cut her loose, whispering softly to calm the terrified little woman.

Still whispering softly in her ear, praying she was ok, he settled her laying on her side on the floor against the creepy medieval set's stone wall. She was awake, but petrified and shocky as he tore off her gag.

"Breathe, Baby. You're ok. Breathe." He was gently easing her matted hair out of her eyes. You're going to be fine, Honey. We're safe. It's over." He leaned down and kissed her quivering lips. "I'll be right back."

"Don't leave me, Chase!!" Arms flailing for his embrace, totally out of her tormented mind. She was pleading with Chase to hold her. He did, but only briefly.

"I'll never leave you again, My Love, but I have to cut Kay and Stephanie loose. I'm right here. You're safe, Baby. I promise." He kissed her trembling lips, rubbed her cheek, and bolted up.

He wrapped his arm around Stephanie's waist and cut her loose. She collapsed into him like a poorly constructed house of cards. He laid her down on her stomach and moved to Kay. She, being taller, was a bit more difficult, but he managed to get her loose without her falling to the floor. She, too, crumpled in his arms.

Chase ripped blood red tablecloths off of the barbaric viewing tables placed all around the demonic theater and rushed back to cover the women. Abby was shivering from the dampness as well as from the nightmarish shock she'd just endured, but he could see the stoic determination on her pixyish little face as she fought to get control of her demons. She was one tough little shit.

Appalled, he reached down and gently removed the ghastly nipple clamps from Abby's bruised breasts, then moved to Kay and Stephanie, removing their nipple clamps as he covered each of them with the tablecloths.

Chase stumbled from the stage and felt along the jagged walls leading to the stairs until he finally came upon the light switches. When he turned them on, he nearly collapsed.

The massive, cavernous chamber looked like something out of the Marquis De Sade's most twisted imaginings.

The large room, once an innocent bowling alley filled with people out for a night of innocent enjoyment, was sectioned off into a veritable cornucopia of perversion to suit every imaginable sick and twisted fetish. It reminded him of the most horrid scene from Dante's Inferno.

Different, smaller enclosures housed an operating room stage, medieval torture chambers, shackling tables, a rack that looked like it came straight from the Inquisition, foot restraints, thumb screws, cages, and a whole host of other dark, disgusting paraphernalia.

Chase tried to ignore it as he tended to the girls. Every bit of him was aghast at the level of depravity those twisted animals had sunk to.

"Abby, Honey. Are you ok?"

"I...Ill be F...f...fine, Chase! Oh my God!" She burst into a hail of terror infused tears and fell into his arms.

"Easy, Baby. Shush, shush, shush. You're going to be fine. It's over, Sweetheart. Stay here beside me." He gently sat her up.

"Did you see where they put my clothes?"

"Back there by that chair." She was quaking. "They dragged you in here and set on you like vultures, tearing off your clothes. Oh my God!! I thought you were dead, Chase!!" She broke out in a crying jag of epic proportions.

"Easy, Sweetheart. You just sit tight for a minute. You're safe now. I'm just going to get my bag. We need to call for help, and I need some packing. Steph's bleeding pretty badly. I'm praying that sick fuck didn't puncture her colon."

Chase got his phone from his pack and shakily dialed nine-one-one. He frantically gave the dispatcher the crux of the situation, still fueled by the ebbing adrenaline flood, and begged them to get there ASAP before any of the dead pervert's cohorts showed up to join in the fray. Chase feared he'd used up the last of the fight he had in him.

The ungodly pain, temporarily forgotten in his quest to rescue the girls, was once again shooting throughout his body in waves of nearly debilitating agony.. But at that very moment, he knew that he'd give up his last breath before he ever let anything ever happen to Abby or his friends ever again.

Chase hobbled back to his bag and opened it, kneeling beside Stephanie. He dug out some KY.

"Check it while she's out, Chase," Abby bravely stuttered out through quivering lips as she checked Stephanie's pulse. "She doesn't need to go through that again awake." Abby was fighting to regain control of herself, her lower lip trembling. It appeared she was winning the battle. Only her pale, trembling lips and shaking hands gave her away.

Abby grabbed an anoscope off the tray of horrors, wiped it down thoroughly with alcohol wipes from Chase's bag, and handed it to Chase.

"Keep your eyes behind us, Abby. If any one of those bastards moves, holler." Chase kept the scalpel close at hand.

He lubed the anoscope and gently eased it in Stephanie's tortured backside. Abby handed him the headlamp from his bag. He slowly opened the bills and eased her inflamed, bleeding anus open, dabbed the blood away with sterile swab and inspected her closely. The bleeding was, thankfully, slowing. He gently packed her with some hemostatic gauze. From what he could see in the dank basement, it was coming from a small tear just inside in her anus. He'd need to reexamine her in better light to be certain.

He quickly removed the anoscope, hurling it against the wall as the last of his anger turned to anguish.

He moved to Kay. She was still out. He checked her pulse and respiration. Thankfully they were ok, but she was in deep shock. Her pupils were dilated. He needed to watch her closely.

He lifted her legs, spreading them gently and directing his headlamp light between them. Thankfully, his rushed, cursory exam showed no major damage from the indecencies she'd suffered: other than the all over bruises and a scratch on her swollen, nipple. He eased her feet up on an overturned chair to elevate her legs and hopefully reduce her chances of becoming even more shocky.

"How about you, Baby! Look at me!" He took her beautiful, tortured face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. She, too, was shocky.

He lifted her breasts. A small amount of blood trickled from one tiny nipple, but thankfully it was minor.

"Let me check between your legs, Honey." His heart was breaking. Abby bravely rolled over as he gently spread her bruised thighs.

He brushed away the disheveled hairs and shone his headlamp light down. Thankfully, while she was extremely red and, he was certain sore, there didn't appear to be any damage. He gently spread the raging red labia. No blood, but he'd need to check all three of them out more closely when they got to the ER.

Chase gently rolled Abby on to her side and directed the light's beam on her back. The whip lashes looked deep and painful. The one across her beautiful left buttock he knew would need to be sutured. He was trying to keep her talking and keep her mind occupied to prevent her from thinking too deeply about the horrors she'd just suffered. He pulled some gauze and tape from his bag and loosely bandaged her wounds.

Chase moved between the girls, his heart breaking, tending to their wounds. The more the adrenaline wore off, the more Chase's head and testicles radiated a blinding pain throughout his body. It was becoming so bad he felt certain he'd pass out. Between that and his exploding head, sheer determination was all that kept him going.

Satisfied that the girls were stable, he checked his handiwork.

As he'd already deduced; when he tore off the ringmaster's mask, Zeigler's bug-like eyes glared at him. It was him, the twisted, disgusting little bug man that so ruthlessly and heartlessly violated the girls. How the puny, sick little man managed such a deep voice during his sick and perverse show was shattered to pieces and embedded into his badly bleeding neck. Hearing the electrified voice, Chase would have never guessed it was him. But his slight build and claw-like hands brought about the startling realization of who he was in the last few seconds as Chase struggled in that infernal chair to release his bonds.

Chase roughly grabbed the monster's wrist. He still had a pulse, but his badly ravaged face caused his breathing, what there was of it, to come in short, gurgling rasps. Frothy blood ran over his lips and puddled on his accursed black robe. Fuck him!

"I hope you can still hear me, Zeigler! I'm not going to do anything to help you. Die slowly and painfully, you sick, twisted cocksucker!"

The ape in the back wasn't anyone Chase had ever seen before, but he was definitely dead. As expected and intended, Chase broke his neck and crushed his eye orbits in the brief struggle. One sightless eye oozed free of his crushed skull, hanging by the optic nerve and rested in the drying vomit. Chase felt no remorse. In a renewed flash of rage, he frantically kicked the behemoth squarely in the groin with his foot, driving his heel into the bastard's groin. Not surprisingly, the behemoth pissed himself in the initial scuffle. Chase took a scary, dark pleasure from the act, regardless of the fact that the bastard was long past the point of feeling any pain.

The third one, the evil minion, caused Chase to gasp in shock and surprise. It was Nurse Jenny. Her chest was caved in from the violent contact with the jagged stone wall. No pulse and no respirations. The speeding collision with the jagged rock wall must have driven her ribs through her lungs or her heart. If she even possessed a heart. Again, he didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse. He stomped her once more in her chest as the on and off waves of unbridled anger he felt continued to dissipate. The deep sorrow for the three women, and any others who'd been violated and tormented in the pervert's pavilion, once again tempered his anger.

"Chase, Stephanie's coming around."

Chase hobbled to Stephanie's side, Abby on the other side, both rubbing her back, speaking softly to her.

"You're going to be ok, Steph. Easy. Just breathe. Your backside's going to be a little sore for a while, but I don't think there's any serious damage. I had to put some packing in there to stem the bleeding, but we'll take it out when we get you to the ER."

"Oh my God! I thought we were all going to die!" She was crying, breathless. "How did we get free!"

"My Superman here kicked their fucking asses!" Abby chirped. She was still panicked, her entire body trembling as if she was chilled to the bone, but she continued to sound more lucid. She was thankfully regaining control. Chase wrapped another table cloth over her quaking shoulders to warm her.

"Abby, Honey, go through that curtained area over there. But be quick. The cops will be here any minute. That looks like an office or a storage room. See if there's any pictures that you, Steph, or Kay might want to keep to yourselves. Look for big mailing envelopes."

"Oh my God!" Abby staggered across the room, determination pasted across her tormented face as her tablecloth toga fell to the floor, unnoticed by her in her quest to end her nightmare. She ran the last few yards to the little room nude.

"Chase! There's a bunch of filing cabinets in here!" Her voice echoed eerily off of the walls of the now silent house of horrors.

Sit tight, Steph. I'll be right back."

He checked Kay again. She was still out, but her pulse and respirations were still good and strong. When he was certain she was stable, he rushed, bowlegged, in to help Abby.

Thankfully, the filing cabinets weren't locked. So much for the flawless security the anonymous source told Stephanie about.

When she flung the first one open, the door came off the rails, crashing to the floor with a loud bang that echoed noisily throughout the chamber. Stacks of envelopes, exactly like the one Kay's pictures were delivered in were cascading from it like a massive waterfall of manila.