The Evil Within Ch. 03

Cynthia could hear moaning, grunting, ecstatic whimpering and crying and the unmistakable sounds of flesh rhythmically slapping against flesh. Herbie was fucking Maggie doggy style beside Cynthia's paralyzed body.

"Cynthia, I think you can really appreciate the irony here. I named it - I know your instructions told me not to but I just couldn't help myself; I named her Maggie after the first golden retriever I owned. And Herbie, my husband - you didn't know he was so black and so big, did you - is fucking Maggie doggy style."

Cynthia recognized the sounds of Maggie's orgasm and heard Herbie's cock make an obscene slithering sound as he pulled slowly - and a bit reluctantly - out of Maggie's cunt. Herbie knelt beside Cynthia's head. His body and shiny, slick, softening erection were in Cynthia's peripheral vision.

"It's too bad what you and your nightmare household did to my Vette and that nice D.A. person, bitch," Herbie said conversationally. "You see, the only reason Yvette's a doctor today is because, well, partially because, I'm her shrink and when she was going through internship and residency she had quite an anger management problem. She almost killed a professor for trying to rape her. But, because she was either sleeping with most of the senior faculty or their wives, she got to stay in the program. I vouched that I'd help her anger problem."

Roxanne took two quick breaths in pleasure as she settled back against the wall of the pump room, Maggie lying on her belly, eagerly sucking Roxanne's cunt. "God, Herbie, I didn't know that. Is that why Yvette told me if I ever called here a whore she'd break both my hands slowly and she'd enjoy it too?"

Herbie laughed. "Partially. The Professor she almost killed liked to call her a whore, and not in a good way. Now, Vette, move that god damned mask and let me fuck the bitch's mouth."

"Sure thing Herb." Yvette gave several quick full pumps to the bag. "Take all the air you can take Cynthia. Herbie has a delayed orgasm problem. He may be a while."

Cynthia pleaded with her eyes, looking to Yvette. But suddenly the mask - and her only source of air - was gone. Herbie turned Cynthia's head toward him, opened her mouth wide with his fingers and jammed his soft erection all the way into Cynthia's throat. Cynthia couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't cough or gag; she was totally paralyzed. Herbie fucked her slowly and with each pump his erection recovered and he got harder and longer.

"Goddamn, Vette! Ain't never been able to throat fuck a bitch without her fighting and spluttering. This is nice. She's nice and tight. Damn!"

Yvette ran her hand lightly over Herbie's belly and leaned over Cynthia and kissed him. "Babe, her eyes are starting to roll back in her head and she's pretty purple. Maybe you better let me give her some air."

Herbie didn't comment; there wasn't any point with Cynthia being barely conscious. The whole exercise was to terrify her. He pulled out and sat back on his legs while Yvette placed the mask over Cynthia's mouth and nose and pushed fresh oxygen into Cynthia's starved lungs.

Herbie looked back over his shoulder at Christina. She was tied in a classic bondage pose: in the kneeling position, her thighs were tightly tied to her calves while her arms were tied at the elbows and her wrists were bound to her ankles. She was tied by the throat to a bar that held her head relatively immobile and a bar ran between her elbows. She also had a dildo gag firmly violating her mouth.

Stacy Masters was kneeling in front of her, an odd expression that frightened Christina on her face. Masters was slowly touching the girl; caressing her and pinching her nipples.

"What you think of watching this shit, Renfield? Are you having fun watching? Hey, we'll get to you shortly." Christina's eyes clouded with tears and she tried to shake her head 'no' but the bar she was bound too restricted her movements.

Masters shushed Christina, caressing her face, "It will be all right dear. Really it will," Masters whispered, the odd smile still on her face.

Christina wanted so desperately to scream, "No it won't be all right," but the dildo gag was so deep in her mouth that even trying to whimper risk triggering her gag reflex. Christina knew, from forcing other girls with dildo gags, that if she threw up with the gag in place she stood of good chance of suffocating on her own vomit.

Roxanne, after bending down and kissing Maggie on the hair and telling her to go slower, asked Herbie, "Why'd you call the little cunt Renfield? Who's Renfield?"

Masters answered, her eyes still fixed on Christina and that odd smile (Christina wondered if all the stress and pressure of being framed by Cynthia had made Masters lose her sanity.) "Renfield was Dracula's roach eating, groveling, pathetic excuse for a human, assistant. Don't you think it's appropriate, Rox?"

"Oh. I think it fits to a tee," Roxanne responded conversationally. "Remember me taking the little bitch's cherry three years ago? You were all righteous and tried to bust me. Of course, we now know it was Cynthia who gave me up, but I tell you Stace, Christina was such a fine virgin. She cried a little, bled a fuckin' lot and was just so little girl like. I thought I'd never have her again but somehow she wound up here and I had her regularly but Cynthia spoiled her innocence, made her into - Renfield."

"Yeah, I remember," Masters chuckled softly. "And I can see how you'd have such fun with this little piece of cunt meat. I just want to hold her in my arms and comfort her - but maybe, I'll feed her a roach or two first. "Maybe," Stacy's voice took on a vicious tone, "I'll just piss in her pretty little mouth."

Cynthia had been concentrating on Yvette squeezing the bag and giving her another breath of life but she took in the conversation between Roxanne and Masters. She was shocked that either of them knew so much and she couldn't figure out how they knew. They must of guessed, she thought but then she heard something that startled her and frightened her even more.

"Hello Cynthia. How are you? I want to fuck your throat with that big strapon you liked to use on me."

Cynthia had never heard Maggie speak before either. Her voice carried intelligence and that was what shocked Cynthia the most: she truly had believed that Claire/Maggie was developmentally disabled. She had believed the whole story about Claire's promiscuity and her being good for nothing but to be used sexually.

Cynthia's thoughts were rudely interrupted as the breathing mask was taken away and Maggie's hips pushed the soft latex dildo past Cynthia's lips and all the way in until Maggie's mons pressed hard against Cynthia's nose.

While Maggie was having her fun Yvette handed the mask to Herbie. "Be right back, lover." Yvette searched the cabinets along the wall of the room and found what she was looking for: the reciprocal saw with the dildo attached to it.

Cynthia's mind registered the familiar sound of the torture device - at least as Maggie knew it - right before she lost consciousness from oxygen deprivation. Cynthia came to once Maggie withdrew and Herbie pumped fresh air back into her lungs. Then she felt the dildo sawing in and out of her cunt. With no lubrication it burned horribly but Cynthia couldn't even cry.

Herbie, Yvette and Maggie established a rhythm of sorts while they waited for Robert, hanging above Cynthia to regain consciousness. Herbie and Maggie took turns at the bag as the other fucked Cynthia to unconsciousness while Yvette fucked Cynthia with the reciprocal saw. Finally Robert started to moan signaling his awakening.

"Cynthia, blink if you can hear me, baby," Yvette said, back at Cynthia's head. She could tell the paralytic was starting to wear off. Cynthia blinked. Frantically. "Bet you're wondering what's going to happen to you. Are we going to kill you or horribly disfigure you or," Yvette shrugged, "disembowel you so that you die slowly as your guts seep out of your belly on to the floor. Well, truth to tell, I haven't decided yet. In the meantime, girlfriend, right now, we're going to play with hubby.

"Herbie, you'd better take Renfield's gag out now. I think we're going to be moving along pretty quickly now."

Herbie went to the girl, Masters moved aside, and Herbie removed her gag. Christina begged frantically with him. "Please. Please. I'll do anything you want just don't kill me."

"Now Renfield, are you going to desert your masters? That's not very nice. But then, Renfield, I don't think you're a very nice little bitch, either."

"Please. My parents will pay you what ever you want."

"But you ain't for sale, Renfield. You're just a piece of meat. I think, despite your basic lack of character, you'd make a good breeder, you know?"

Christina hung her head - as much as was possible with her throat still bound to a bar behind her - and cried softly, mumbling, Please, over and over.

Herbie got down on his knees in front of her and took her by the chin. She thought maybe he was going to take pity on her. She was wrong.

Yvette, Maggie, Roxanne and Stacy all knelt around Cynthia's body.

"Rox, let's intubate," Yvette said with eagerness.

Again the paralyzing drug Yvette had given Cynthia was wearing off ever so slightly; Cynthia's eyes widen slightly and she barely was able to vigorously shake her head, "No."

Cynthia's husband started to moan louder. It made everyone jump when Maggie picked up a wooden mallet lying nearby and whacked him in the head again, silencing him.

Yvette looked up at Maggie. Maggie shrugged matter-of- factly and dropped the mallet.

Roxanne brought the intubation kit and the small portable respirator and set them down next to Yvette. "Are you going to do it, Vette?"

"Me? You're the surgeon, I thought you would."

"Fuck, bitch, I let anesthesia tube them. I haven't intubated anyone since my first year of residency. I wasn't very good at it either."

Yvette shrugged and looked at Cynthia, "Well, Cynthia, guess I'll take a try. Rox, give her some more curare." Cynthia guessed that Yvette would have less experience than Roxanne. Maybe they'll kill me now, Cynthia thought. It was the first time since this bizarre incident began that she felt death was preferable to their tortures.

But Yvette was good, having moonlighted right up until she and Herbie had moved to California, as a trauma physician. She inserted the breathing tube into Cynthia's upper airway almost effortlessly and hooked it to the respirator. Cynthia closed her eyes in what looked like relief.

Herbie pulled his cock from Christina's mouth and then drug her over near Cynthia and her husband by the bar between her elbows. After Herbie had removed Christina's gag he promptly sodomized her and came quickly, spraying her face with his cum. Then he stuck surgical pins into Christina's upper and lower eyelids, keeping her eyes wide open, making it so she could not close them no matter how hard she tried. And in the coming moments she would try and try hard to close her eyes.

Since Christina's fearful pleas didn't work, she decided to take another tack. Angrily (but with Herbie's cum on her nose, chin and lips and the pins in her eyelids her facial expression looked both bizarre and comical) Christina spit at Yvette - and missed. "You're doing all this because we partied with you a couple of weeks ago?! You're the insane one here!"

Yvette looked over at her, "You see, Christina, that's your problem. You have no sense of morality whatsoever. If it mattered any at all - and it doesn't now - my psychiatrist husband would probably diagnose you as a sociopath. If you had a proper sense of morality, you'd realize that you and your masters didn't "party" with me that day. You sick fucks drugged me, raped me repeatedly, sodomized me repeatedly, beat me, someone - it was you I think - pissed in my mouth and you all had a grand old time with me like I was a piece of meat and you did it without my consent!"

Christina was stunned into silence. Only when she heard Yvette recount that day's events did she begin to realize how they had truly treated her and how far from her upbringing her lifestyle had taken her. She felt some guilt and shame, but it was too late.

"Remember when I told you I would make you scream?"

"Y-yes. Please, Dr. Harriman, I realize now how bad things are. I'm really, really sorry."

"You know what, Christina? I actually believe you are sorry, but baby, it's judgment day. And you're going to scream. So, my advice to you is, if when you were a little girl back in Iowa you believed in Jesus, you better pray now.

"You see, Maggie here, she was kidnapped by a serial killer on the east coast and then sold to Cynthia to be an incubator for her and then be the household plaything. The serial killer was also a quite accomplished cannibal. As part of Maggie's training, he and his partner - Cynthia's "husband" here - made her help them with their work and then made her do some completely by herself."

"Do what?" Christina asked quietly.

"Girls; girls your age: Maggie had to make love to them to calm them down, then she stunned them with a mallet and then she'd hang them up like Robert here and butcher them like a pig."

Maggie turned around to Christina - Christina who loved to be incredibly cruel with Maggie - and spoke, "Christina, my first one was an 18 year old freshman from Rutgers. She looked a lot like you. I sucked her cunt, got her off then smacked her with a mallet, hung her up, bled her, skinned her, gutted her and then butchered her. I put the meat up in the freezer and cleaned up the room. Robert and his partner rewarded me by not raping me that night."

"Oh...no, oh, dear God, no, please no; please, you're not going to do that to me are you?" Christina's voice was beyond desperate.

Yvette said, "No, at least not today. Knowing what we know now, I thought I'd give Maggie a chance to avenge herself - and me - partly by carving up whatever the fuck this guy's name really is."

Yvette looked down at Cynthia, "That's right. We know he's not your husband; he's just that asshole's partner that you bought Maggie from."

Yvette turned her attention back to Christina. "So, you get to watch Maggie's artistry, along with Cynthia here."

Christina was as white as a sheet. She heaved suddenly and vomited on the floor.

"Well, if hearing all of this is all it takes to make you hork," Roxanne interjected, "wait till you see the full show."

"Maggie," Yvette said, reaching out to touch the Maggie's belly, "Do your stuff. We'll be out by the pool. You come to us when you're all finished. Understand?"

Maggie nodded. Roxanne held out her hand to help Yvette up off the floor. Herbie and Masters were already half way to the door. "I'm a psychiatrist. Blood makes me ill."

Masters said, "Me too - about the blood," and she went back and smiled down at Cynthia. "I guess this is gotcha, Dr. Knowles. We've worked out the evidence to clear me and implicate you and the soon dead Robert - after all, whether you knew it or not, Robert was practicing his cannibal craft the whole time he was with you."

Maggie suddenly produced a large butcher knife. "Um, please excuse me Dr. Harriman, I have work to do."

"Oh, certainly Maggie." Yvette kissed Maggie on the cheek and then headed for the door. "We are going to retire to the pool now Cynthia; get some sun. Enjoy the show."

Maggie knelt so that her breasts were level with Robert's face. She slapped him gently until he woke up and then told him, "Ordinarily I'd stun you real well and then bleed you as quickly as possible to minimize your suffering. You taught me technique so well. But not today, I think."

The man still was not conscious enough to appreciate his predicament. He struggled somewhat and made incoherent noises; Maggie picked up the wooden mallet again and gave him a light whack up side his head.

"Then again," Maggie said, "I can't have you squirming around like that until I make the initial cut."

Yvette and Roxanne stopped in their tracks; Maggie, in her spooky voice, sounded so - professional and so malevolent.

Maggie looked up at the women from her work. For the first time ever they had seen an expression on her face. It was a queer little smile. "Dr. Harriman, I'll make sure this little bitch screams really well, okay?" Maggie patted Christina on the head gently. Christina's whimpering increased and Yvette felt a sick fear in the pit of her stomach. "You'd better leave now," Maggie said, with that queer little smile.

Roxanne kept her eyes riveted on the waifish looking woman as if she might suddenly spring upon them and kill them. Roxanne grabbed Yvette by the arm and whispered, "Let's go."

Maggie stepped close to the man; her sex inches from his nose and mouth. "Breathe deep my scent. Maybe it will comfort you in Hell while the maggots writhe in your flesh and the demons feast on your rancid meat."

She caressed his face as he moaned incoherently then she bent low with her knife and made a small initial cut into the man's left carotid artery so that the blood spurted slowly - directly onto Cynthia's breasts and face. If Cynthia could have screamed she would have. Then Maggie made the full cut, from ear to ear, and blood pumped under high pressure from the man's frightened and wildly beating heart. The man struggled wildly for 15 or 20 seconds because of the blood pooled, under pressure, in his head and then went limp.

Christina screamed. An hour an a half later she quit screaming.

Yvette commented quietly, "She must be done."

Shortly thereafter, Maggie, her face once again emotionless, came to the pool side where Yvette, Roxanne, Masters and Herbie were lounging.

All conversation stopped.

There were splatters of blood on Maggie's face and in her hair. The splatters increased on her upper chest and shoulders and then from her nipples to her mid thighs she was solidly coated. Maggie knelt beside Yvette's lounger and laid her head on the lounger next to Yvette's thigh.

Yvette hesitantly put her hand on the back of Maggie's head, "Good girl. You rest a while. Uh, stay."

They all got up and walked slowly toward the pump room. Just before reaching it Herbie hung back. "I got enough demons running around in my head; I think I'll pass on the post mortem."

Yvette took his hand and squeezed it silently. Roxanne looked nervous. Stacy asked quietly, in a small voice, "Rox, would you hold me, please?" Roxanne took Stacy in her arms and without hesitation kissed Stacy on the top of her head. Yvette though was resolute despite the uneasy feeling in her gut. She pushed the door open.

The man no longer hung from the ceiling beam; he was no where to be seen. The floor was wet - but with water, except around Cynthia. Cynthia lay in a pool of blood, urine and feces and was covered from head to toe in the mixture. Yvette tip-toed to Cynthia's body and felt for a carotid pulse; she didn't find one. Despite the steady rise and fall of Cynthia's chest from the respirator, Cynthia was dead; most probably of fright.

"My God," Roxanne whispered. "She was, uh, certainly efficient."

"Yeah," Yvette said quietly.

Christina was splattered but not covered with the gore. Her face was contorted in abject terror; the surgical pins still holding the girl's eyes wide open. She was still trying to scream but her voice failed her.

Herbie had brought along a syringe filled with a powerful sedative. He stuck it in Christina's rump and in moments Christina slumped in her bonds. Herbie took the surgical pins out of Christina's eye lids and taped gauze patches over her eyes. Herbie and Stacy then untied her and stretched her out on her back. They each started rubbing parts of Christina's body at the bondage points to get the blood moving again.