[graheg]

Part 8 – The ordeal of Samantha continues.

Samantha was quivering, kneeling on the board of nails, weeping in a kneeling position. The albino was rummaging around, looking for his tools. Elder could see she was trying to control her pain, her body looked tensed, her eyes shut, sweat pouring down her face. She was biting down hard on the underwear stuffed in her mouth. “So here we are!” The albino yelled, returning with rusty garden shears. “Open your eyes baby see what I’ve got!” she barely opened them, fearful, panicking. “We got to get rid of your clothes right? One at a time…” she mewed into her gag as he stepped closer. “We need access to your lovely young flesh yes?” She started pleading through her gag, shaking her head. This excited him more. “But of course, we should really tie your arms down to the pole…” He moved to the back of her, she turned her head to follow him. She felt him fidgeting with the leather straps along the solid pole she leaned against. She felt him thread the straps beneath and around her bound arms then pulled it tight like a belt, hooking metal teeth into the holes. He did this thrice, once around her upper arms, another at her elbows and a third strap securing her wrists to the pole. Elder admired the device, it was well designed, the straps ran through the pole and hung out from each side. Made from thick leather, it was hard to break. There were many holes in the straps with heavy buckles so he could pull it as tight as possible, designed to fit different arm girths, crushing arms together to the pole. The pole was steady, driven and anchored deep in concrete so it was stable. No amount of struggling would budge it. The albino tightened her neck strap, forcing the back of her head to press against the top end of the pole. When he was done trying her down this way, he dragged a stool in front of her, adjusted the height and sat down, facing her.
“you all ready to go topless baby?” He laughed, handling the shears. “Say goodbye to your last piece of protection!”


He slipped the blades beneath the sweater and started to cut, slowly, upwards, from the side. He cut through ropes that bound the sweater to her body, ropes that didn’t need to hold her down anymore. She wept as he did this, she could feel the tension of her arms bound behind her to the pole and the loss of other ropes didn’t free her one bit. He cut carefully, so he wouldn’t damage her tank top. He wanted to strip her one garment at a time, to heighten her fear. “Bit by bit by bit.” He cooed as he snipped off the ruined sweater up along side her chest, past her neck a through the shoulder area. The sweater split open at the side to expose her tight tank top and the profile of her large breasts. The thin pink fabric was stuck to her skin, wet from all the sweat. Elder could smell her from where he stood watching. It made him hard. The albino also appeared more excited, not with fuck lust but with pain lust as he exposed more of her sensitive flesh. He stepped over to the other side and started snipping off the rest of the sweater, slowly cutting upwards, ropes falling away.
He was silent, suddenly, breathing heavy. He seemed calm, collected, focused. This scared her. She didn’t know exactly what was going to happen next. She dared not even make a sound as the shears finished off her sweater and it fell to the ground in ruins. She started heaving heavily, chest rising and falling, her lovely breasts stretching against the wet cloth hugging her body. Her arms were bound behind her tightly with black cable ties. Both mad men could clearly see the shape and color of her white bra through her top which was soggy. Without warning, the albino dropped the shears nosily then with his right hand, he pinched her right breast through her clothes, exactly at her nipples and twisted hard. She bucked against the pole and the sudden struggle shot renewed bursts of pain through her nailed knees. She screamed, long and hard before he let go of the twist. “You were getting too quiet my sweet!” The albino laughed and moved away to get his steel trolley. He ceremoniously brought it to the front of her, pushing slowly and excitedly, the contents of the metallic tray was covered by a black cloth. Her eyes widened, mind not daring to wonder what was beneath the cover.

“So,” he began, “let me introduce to you my toys…” He played with the ends of the black cloth, teasing but never really revealing the terrible array of pain instruments. She screwed her eyes, terrified. “Open your eyes bitch!” He yelled impatient, “unless you want me to glue them open!” she slowly opened her eyes and dread filled her like water in a tank. “I need you to use your imagination Samantha…imagine how I would use these tools on you…I’ve got your entire body to explore with these things…ha ha haaar…” His laugh was deep and menacing. “Lets start from your left,” he said slowly for effect, “and we move down the buffet of your inevitable torture…”


Very slowly, he flipped open the cloth revealing the first portion of the tray. “Section one….” He began, Samantha was already starting to weep noisily into her gag, “These are scalpels of various sizes. All stainless steel, they all get hot really fast under fire….all very sharp obviously, some serrated, some thin and clean. Some curved, some clawed and forked. Here you see some with needle like points, all different sizes, for piercing of course. Here is a rounded blade, the rolling kind. And here, “ he picked up one thicker than the rest. He pressed a small button at the bottom and the small rectangular blade started jerking up and down in a sawing motion, like a fucking machine, “Is one of my favorites…” Her mind reeled into the horrors of what would be done to her. Senseless noise escaped her.

“Second section.” He exposed a smaller compartment and picked up a silver nail clipper. “This one, I like too. Nice and slow, with small small cuts…” He grinned.
She could see that beneath each section, its corresponding number was printed in white bold fonts.

He unfurled the third section with relish, showing a collection of needles and thin black thread. She wept louder, “some parts of you need to be sewn up, some parts sewn open, can you guess which?” She was starting to feel nauseated with dread.

The fourth section scared her even more. Fishing hooks of various sizes gleamed against the black wood of the compartment, most of them were already stained with blood, some were stand alone hooks, others were small and attached to coiled lengths of fishing strings, at least 5 to 10 hooks on one string. There were small steel chains and balls of iron with different weights in an adjoining compartment. Small little silver clips with sharp teeth hung from the chains. There was also a roll of fishing string. “Imagine Samantha…” he reminded her with menace, “imagine what I can do with these little babies….” She let out a long despairing noise.

In the fifth section, he slowly revealed to her a staple gun and a stationary stapler. ‘Useful to attach things to your body I reckon…” There were boxes of different staple sizes.

There were matches and lighters in section six. “Fire fire burning bright! Cooking flesh is my delight! Scorching skin will be your plight!” he rhymed like a maniac against the sound of her garbled weeping. A small Bunsen burner attached via tube to a gas canister sitting on the second level of the trolley.

Section seven showed hot glue guns and glue tubes.

Section eight had an unplugged soldering iron…

Section nine had nails of various lengths and thickness, all rusty, and a small hammer. Scattered and mixed with the nails were thumbtacks and various safety pins. Elder wondered why he hadn’t group them with the needles.

Pliers and cutters sat in section ten, alongside tweezers and small tongs.

She nearly passed out just looking at the objects on display.

Samantha was making deep throated noises with every breath now, terrified. She started to pull and tug at her bonds, mildly at first, then quickly, almost ignoring her pain at her knees, desperate to break free from this madness before her. The albino stared at her into her eyes filling her with fear. He was holding up the nail clipper now….
He spoke with a deep slow whisper…”we need to remove your top….how can we torture you with your top on? How can we start our romance if you still have your bra protecting you? Hmm?” He chuckled, she started crying loudly as he pushed the trolley aside, pulled himself on the stool forward so he was very near her body. He touched her bare stomach under her top, she squealed, thinking he was starting to hurt her but no, he merely held the lower part of her top, feeling the thin fabric between his fingers and started clipping at it slowly, from the center near her belly button. Clip, clip clip, he purposefully and meticulously snipped. Her stomach was heaving in and out, faster with every second, heart pounding with horror. He grinned as he went on, clip, clip, clip, exposing her flat stomach, her solar plexus, ever so slowly cutting upwards, the bottom of her bra cups came to view, a white cotton bra. Elder could see her chest now, robust teenage flesh bundled tightly in her white bra as the pink top began opening up more and more like a curtain with every clip. The Albino resisted ripping apart the top, choosing to be patient, cutting through her chest and finally her neckline. The tightness of the top caused the two sides of the now maimed garment to spring open, exposing her well formed double D breasts in the tight bra. Slowly, the clip found its way to the left strap of the tank top. Clip. It fell away. Then the right. Clip. She moaned as her pink top fell and pooled around the back of her legs. Such a glorious sight. This young American teen in her white bra now, and black shorts, kneeling on a bloody board, body strapped to a pole.

Her tears streamed down over the leather pad over her mouth as she watched him pull the trolley near to him. He was watching her breast under all that cotton, wondering how he should start. She watched him through her tears, trembling, daring not to breathe. “Only your little bra left, between me and these…terrible tools…” he said, looking at the tools. “Oh what should we do to you first?” he studying his array, then pinched out a silver clip with jagged teeth, the one with a short chain attached to it.
“let’s test out your threshold hmmm? Shall we?” She shook her head in fear not defiance, the noise in her throat rising as he pressed open the clip and brought it close to her face, to show her exactly what it was, then he pretended it was a little creature, opening and closing the clips mouth playfully while lowering it to her right breast. He positioned the clip just over her nipples hiding underneath her bra. “here it comes…” She started screaming even before he clipped it on. When he did, her body jerked slightly at the sudden burst of pain. She tensed her body and fought against the burst, releasing a long gagged drawl. The clip pinched hard on her nipple but no blood came out. She had too much protection from the bra. She hummed a monotone to block out the pain. He gripped the clip and twisted it. She screamed some more, crying after the scream. Sobbing. Shaking her head. He released the clip, spat into her face. He picked out a lighter quickly, the type with a metal head. He lit it in front of her face and she flinched, taking deep breaths, afraid of what would come next. Her eyebrows arched up with fear. He let the fire burn bright, grinning in her face. “Hot, hot, hot…” he said. He let the fire heat up the metal. Then without warning, he released the gas killing the flame then tucked the lighter, burning hot head first into her left bra cup. Upon contact with fresh skin, she screamed and struggled and bucked, he pressed the hot metal against her left nipple, relishing her screaming and struggling. She was trashing her head left to right. He let it burn her, tilting his head, watching her face cramp up with pain. He pulled the lighter out, slowly dragging it against her young skin, staring at her. He yelled into her face. “This is nothing! Bitch! Nothing! Foreplay!” He appeared to be getting angrier, as if these mild tortures were irritating him. He was craving for blood now. His hand was trembling, her screaming subsided, catching her breath. She was sweating now, the drugs amplifying everything she was experiencing. He picked out a six sided dice and held it up to her face, adjusting his seat.

“You ready for a game Samantha baby?” He positioned his tray closer, tols gleaming in the bright white light in the torture room. He was getting started. He rolled the dice in his hands, cupped over it, then tossed it onto a small empty box on the tray, the dice bounced and stopped at four.
“Wow!” He exclaimed. “So early in the game, and you’re already at fishing hooks!”

He gently put both his hands on her rib cage, left and right. “You know what this means…” She started sobbing noisily. She started pleading again knowing it was no use, She tried to pull her body away, also knowing it was no use. “Time to unhook your bra…” He laughed at the joke, slipped his hands behind her back against her louder sobbing and half fear screams, “so that we can start hooking up your tender breasts…” He found the small clasp, gently undid it then ever so slowly, he held each open end and pulled it in opposite directions. Elder watched closely, the release of her white cotton bra and nearly ejaculated when he saw her large tits bounce free as the albino uncapped the bra from her body and pulled it over her head. Picking up the shearers that he dropped, he proceeded to cut the straps, letting her bra, mangled and forever lost, drop to the floor.
Elder stared at her round, soft breasts, her pink nipples and saw the red marks on the left breast where she had been burnt. The albino toyed with her nipples between his fingers, turning them slowly this way and that, delaying the inevitable pain that was to come. He held up his left hand, palms open before her like he was showing her a magic trick,” with this hand,” he said, “I’m going to pick out your first experience of sharp, acidic pain…”


She started heaving loudly, guttural, primal noises of NO. He started to giggle like a little child as he fished out the coiled fishing string, with the hooks tied upon it. He waved it in front of her terrified face. It pumped his blood watching her face turn into fear, knowing that she was all bound and topless now and he could start inflicting all sorts of pain upon her. With his right hand, he let the string of hooks dangle between her breasts. She jerked against her bonds, one last desperate attempt to somehow break free from this oncoming terror as he playfully allowed the small sharp hooks to slide and scratch against in the insides of her right breast. He pinched the lowest hook, the one at the end of the string, licked his dried lips from all that heavy breathing and carefully positioned the hook at the bottom, central part of her right tit, right at her ribs where the skin of her breasts joined the skin of her chest. He bent his head down a little to get a clearer view. “Here it comeees!!!” He gingerly pierced her tender flesh , the first sight of blood driving him crazy, the first sharp burst of pain sent shocks into her, it was like a sting that didn’t go away. He tugged the line upwards, hooking her deeper while he slowly hooked in the second hook into the side of her breast, pushing it into and under her skin. He tugged again and started circling her breast, slowly, deliberately pushing in the sharp little hooks as he went along the girth of her breast in a clockwise direction. Carefully, he released more string, mindful that at the end of the coil was another set of six nasty little hooks, to go around her left breast… Blood started dripping onto her torso and ribs, she was struggling and screaming and her crying was free and filled with pain. He pulled and tugged, some pierced parts started to tear a little, flesh ripping slightly. By the time he reached one full turn, the sixth hook had been cut and buried into her meat. Blood rolled down around her breast now from the little fresh holes. The albino was relishing this, the elder watched on fascinated, listening intently to the pitch of her crying, rubbing his erect cock. Samantha was shaking from the pain, which has only begun. The albino neatly circled the thin fishing string around her breast. After the third round, and without any remorse, he pulled the fishing line fast and tight, standing up to do this, he leveraged himself and tugged as hard and as viciously as he could. The hooks dug in deeper but did not break out. The string tightened considerably, biting into her skin, bulging out her breast. It was turning red from blood pressure and from the streaming crimson that streaked down her body like little red veins. He went round her breast two more times and paused when he had reached the point where the first hook was pierced. He carefully calculated the amount of string left. He needed to begin circling her left breast now.

He let the rest of the fishing line fall, studying the six hooks at the other end. He ran the line up through the valley of her breasts then circled it, anti-clockwise
Around her left breast.

After the third round, his fingers had reached the line of hooks at the other end. They were ready to be inserted one by one. He tugged mercilessly and hard on the fishing line, giving him a bit more slack. He pulled hard, never releasing the tension, the cinch pushing out her breast, cutting into her skin, the tension pulling against the hooks in her right breast, tightening, always tightening.

It was terrible, the tightness, the sharp sting, the prolonged pain of torn and hooked flesh. She was hysterical somewhat, swaying her body left to right, eyes screwed shut, sweating profusely. The albino reminded himself that the drug in her system was amplifying the pain. “Does it hurt Samantha? Hmm? Are you in PAIN?” He giggled loudly as his deft fingers began hooking her left breast. Like a meticulous model maker, he turned the hooks this way and that, slowly piercing her along the insides of her left tit, pulling the line after every hook had pierced. She was steadily screaming now, pauding only to catch her breath. The muffled quality of those screams, mixed with the crying noises, was such a turn on for the elder. He leaned into the albino’s ear and said, “I want to rape her…” The albino ignored him, he was focused on keeping the fishing line taut as he circled her left tit, piercing in the fourth and fifth hooks. He kept pulling, dragging and digging the hooks in, tearing slightly her skin listening to her screaming. The final hook reached just at the top of her left breast. He gave the line tension one last drag then carefully hooked it in. Both her breasts were bleeding now although not exactly profusely. Both her breasts bulged out, started to change color as blood flow was starting to show. Both her breasts appeared to be bunched closer to each other now, two melons touching each other, turning purple, thin hairline veins starting to show. The lower part of her heaving body, stomach contracting and tense, dealing with pain, looked like a work of art. Streaks and crooked lines of blood rolling down to pool and soak into the waistline of her soggy black shorts. Sweat streamed down her legs, her face was wet with tears and sweat. Small, signals of pain sounded from deep inside her gagged face and tense throat. She was extremely thirsty, throat sore from screaming. Pain still shooting from her knees and now sharp stings throbbed and pulsed around the insides of both her breasts. The taut fishing strings hurt her breasts from the inside, the pain concentrated and condensed in the core of her breasts. The albino sat back in his chair studying his handiwork. “Well done!” he grinned in her face. “Oh I’m not done yet sweetheart, don’t look so relieved. So much more flesh left to cover and see? He turned to the tray, “we still have so many hooks left! Bigger ones! And the weights! So much more we can do!” He laughed. She wept, disbelieving in the terror, disbelieving that more was coming. He suddenly grabbed both her breasts with his unruly paws and squeezed. New forms of pain shot through her chest like lightning, bursting into her head, she threw her head back, banging against the pole and screamed skywards, neck muscles bulging out, body swaying against her bonds. He clenched and turned her breasts, one clockwise the other anti clockwise, causing as much new damage as possible to her hooked points of pure pain. Her core felt like it was going to burst. He released his grip, fumbled for the small bottle of spray from the second level of the trolley and brought it out. “Now this!” he said with glee, “is filled with pure and thick salt water…” Her body shook with heavy sobbing, knowing what he was about to do. He purposefully moved the spray closer to her wounds…”bite down on my dirty underwear Sam, this might sting quite a bit…” He brought the nozzle close to her open wound and fired it off, close range, elevating the excruciating pain. The stinging shock made her jerk wildly as he fired off some more. The cries she made was almost inhuman, she nearly passed out but the drugs in her kept her wide-awake and alert to her pain. He sprayed some more; two, three bursts on each and every wound, taking his time to go around the 12 puncture wounds around her tits. He shot close, so the salt water was forced into her damaged flesh, seeping inside, stinging internally. Her body was dripping now with salt water and sweat and blood. He loved it. Her tits were turning slightly purple from the tightness. He put the spray aside and flicked his fingers hard against random wounds as if he was hammering in the hooks, plain and simple way of adding pain unto pain. He flicked her nipples hard a few times each, laughing as her nipples wobbled. He then dug the tips of his fingers into the thin, taut fishing line at the sides of her breast, and pulled, released, pulled, released. He was clearly enjoying this. She was clearly not. The pain was unbearable.

“Since you rolled a lucky four…” He said looking into the compartment on the tray for the right one, “let’s have four more hooks in your beautiful tits, one for each shall we?” She moaned and wept. “where’s mommy and daddy now hmmm?” He picked out a medium sized hook. It was new. Sharp. He held it before her terrified eyes. “ Do you think the police have any idea where you are?”
He pinched together the flesh around her left nipple first, then abruptly let go, as an idea hit him. “Let’s make this more interesting.” he said. He turned to face the tray and picked out a pair of pliers. He carefully used the tool to hold eye hole side of the hook. The sharp side jutted out from the tip of the pliers. With his free hand, he turned on the gas of the Bunsen burner. “Brother, could you please help me light this up? We’ve got a hook to cook for dear Samantha here…” He turned to the frantic girl, “silver is such a wonderful conductor of heat did you know? Your daddy ever brought you fishing Samantha? Hmm? ANSWER ME!” He slapped her breasts hard. She shook her head, crying. “Awwww what a pity…don’t worry, In a few seconds, I’ll show you exactly how to hook a living, writhing thing… like yourself…. Har har har har!! I AM YOUR DADDY NOW! And you deserve all the love you can get!” The fire burst from the burner and the albino brought the hook into the blue flame. “SO much love to give you pretty Samantha with your pretty braids and your pretty breasts with your pretty blood….” The hook was turning red fast. Samantha was getting more and more frantic. “Nice and hot, nice and BURNING hot!” He pinched her left nipple again to extrude the flesh then brought the freshly fired up hook close, turned the pliers to position the curved point then, against the backdrop of a deep throated scream of immense pain, he slowly punctured her skin along the rim of her light brown areola. She looked like she was having a fit but being bound kept her spasms to a bare minimum. Her struggling must’ve caused greater pain from her already injured knees. The burning silver hook sizzled as blood began to ooze from the wound. He twisted the pliers slightly and with more force, he dug the hook deeper into her breast, he turned the pliers a little again and pulled at it until the sharp tip pierced out from the other side of her areola. “There,” he said releasing the pliers to let the hook hang in her flesh. “And the finishing touches…” He picked out a fishing weight attached to a chain with a clip on its end. He clipped it to the end of the hook then let it drop. The weight pulled against the hook in her and he let it dangle and swing like a pendulum. The noise from her was a mixed mess of short sobbing bursts with intermittent sounds of screaming as she struggled to deal with the new onset of pain in her body and breast. “Just three more to go sweetheart!” He was already preparing the other hook.
It went in systematically just like the first, except through her right areola. The hook was heated up to a hot red and pierced slowly through her flesh, soundtracked by more hysterical screaming, sweating and body buckling. The albino spat in her face several times throughout his procedure. When he was done with the second hook, after chaining it to another fishing weight, he sat back to study his handiwork. Two dark grey weights on shining chains attached to medium sized hooks that pierced deep into her two tits. Blood and sweat dripping, she was getting nauseous again dizzy with pain. He pulled at the weights for fun just to hear her scream in different ways. He would never get bored with the sounds of gagged crying and mewing and despair. He loved it. He was hungry to hurt her some more….