Tag Archive: torture


Dionysus is here! Ring the alarms!


You’ve been lied to just to rape you of your sight and now they have the nerve to tell you how to feel. So sedated as they medicate your brain and while you slowly go insane they tell ya “Given with the best intentions, help you with your complications”…

“Open your mouth Walter. Here comes the chu chu train.. Chu Chu”
Walter was locked up in a care home for disturbed teens, an asylum to be frank, for the gruesome murder of his whole family.
Can you blame him?
Ever felt surrounded by people but still totally alone? Even around close companions, have you ever felt out of place, like you’ve evolved to a point where the past and the people in it are nothing but a big obstacle, a hindrance along your path and you’re forced to share the confusion and karmic reactions of their own fuck ups, not yours?
This is Walter’s tale.

“This can’t be right! I refuse to accept! I’d rather die than accept this! This is just pure wickedness.”
Walter talks to himself in the confines of his room, teary eyed not from pain but an unflinching anger building up, slowly eating away at reason, rationality and conscience. His room was the only place where his brain was not sedated with thoughts and feelings of people who didn’t understand him at all, his so called family members.
“I mean does anybody really care? God why would you allow such wickedness to happen, Why? Of what good is praying to You if you allow such people breathe rather than punish them for their evil ways. Just give me a sign Lord that you care and all my cries aren’t in vain! Please!”

Hate to twist your mind, but God ain’t on your side. An old acquaintance severed, burn the world your last endeavour…

The White family were so rich, they were almost considered royalty. They were the talk of the town; everybody envied them and wanted to be like them. They were charming, always smiling and knew the exact words to say to the public to get them ‘wet’ and craving their attention even more. All this was just a facade of course as the horrors that happened in the White household were a sharp contrast to their outward demeanour. Mrs Janice White tortures slaves as a form of entertainment, each scream of agony, widening the smile on her face. Mr White sees all but does anything to keep his wife happy. He is no saint himself, a secret paedophile. Peter, the first born and Mary, the second, share a love that is described in the outside world as Incest. Walter, sixteen years of age has to witness all these acts go on with no one to tell or turn to. They’ve hammered it into his head several times to lie to the public, beating him severely if word got out he was blabbing about the happenings of his household. Even if he did tell anyone, no one would believe, as having money and calling the name of God is enough to get plebeian man to consider you a saint. Any faux pas or irrational behaviour is easily forgotten with a shiny Rolex on the arm, a thousand dollar suit and a little ‘compensation’

Flesh is burning you can smell it in the air cause men like you have such an easy soul to steal. So stand in line while they ink numbers in your head, you’re now a slave until the end of time here. Nothing stops the madness turning, haunting, yearning pull the trigger!…

Walter lies on his bed, thoughts flowing in his head like a horror movie as he listens to the moans and the giggles of his siblings copulating, through his bedroom wall. He can also hear the wailing of a slave as his mother has her fun for the day.
“God, I’ve been patient and this patience is sucking out my soul. My soul is burning. I’m burning. Burning to do Your will. I’m Your son, the good one. Remember that. ”
With this, he gets up from his bed, eyes unblinking as if he was possessed by a certain maniac of a spirit, reality fading fast. He sneaks into his father’s room and picks up one of the fancy rifles hanging on the wall. He had seen his father use it before, shooting birds in their yard. He checks if its loaded and carries some more bullets in his pocket just to make sure he doesn’t run out of ammunition. He walks up to Peter’s room, door left ajar; the parents knew what was going on but gave up trying to stop them. He steps into the room to see his elder brother behind his sister, their backs turned towards him. Their frantic moans and giggles raises up a wave of disgust in his being. He walks closer, his siblings still unaware of his presence. Eyes wide open, shining with glare of the righteous, he cocks the rifle and pulls the trigger. The bullet passes through his brother’s neck, blood from severed jugular, splattering on the walls, the bed and on his sister. Peter’s lifeless body falls on top of Mary, his still-warm blood bathing her skin. Her moans became screams and she tried to push him off her back but he is too heavy. She looks into her younger brother’s face and sees the cold look in his eyes.
“Walter… wh….wh….co….”
He cannot hear what she’s frantically mounting and he doesn’t allow her to go on. He aims the rifle to her head and a second later, blood and brain decorate the sheets and walls some more.

The screams of the slaves have ceased as his mom heard the sound of the gunshots. She calls her husband, then the cops and locks herself in a room. She soon hears a knock on the door
“Mom! Mom! Its me! Open up! They are after me!”.
“Walt! Oh my God, Walt! I’m coming”
As soon as she opens the door, he aims for her belly and pulls the trigger, sending her sliding to the floor.
“Walt.. Wh.. Why?”
This time he really does cry as he loved his mother but hated the fact that she had to be so wicked.
“Mom. It’s God’s work. No more. No more”
The small pool of blood expands beneath her as life slowly leaves her body. He aims for her head and saves her from her misery. He looked outside the window and sees his father’s car enter the compound. He hides behind the door bidding his time, waiting for his father to come in. As soon as his father enters, he holds the iron end of the rifle and swings at his fathers head. A cracking sound, like smashing a coconut on concrete. Blood slides down Mr White’s head. He places the rifle at point blank range on his father’s groin and pulls the trigger. He leaves his father to scream and die in pain.

The cops finally arrived, finding Walter sitting on the couch, stained with blood, and the rifle in his hand, unblinking gaze into space, muttering about God’s work. He was termed insane and was sentenced to an asylum to live out his remaining days. The public considered him evil. How could someone that came from such a privileged family do something so sinister and cold hearted?


P.S- Just in case you wondered, the lyrics in bold comes from Nightmare-a7x, one of my favourite song of theirs!!!

Jane Doe: Trois

Dr Jerry Oakley paused and turned at the sound of the woman calling his name. He tried to place her face unsuccessfully. “How may I help you?” She came closer and his eyes widened a little at how beautiful she was. Long blonde hair, pulled back in a pony tail, sexy grey eyes, and what’s more, very large breasts. Just his type. He put on his best smile. “Hi! I was hoping you’d be able to drop me off just near Kender Street. My car broke down and I really cannot wait for the AA” She said in a soft sweet voice. ‘You betcha honey!’ he smile at his lascivious thought. “That wouldn’t be a problem my dear. How did you know my name by the way? You do not look like I’ve seen you before at my Practice.” He definitely would have noticed her with those amazing racks!’

She had to distract him. She slyly dropped her keys to the ground, bending over to pick them, giving him a full view of her twin peaks. She knew he was staring. The lecher. She straightened up, adjusting her low-cut top even lower, watching his eyes follow their descent unabashed. “So Dr., about the ride…”. He snapped back into the present smiling at her, question forgotten. “Sure! Sure! This way” Suddenly the gentleman, he ushered her into his car, almost bowing, then he ran to his side, and started the car, rushing off with the image of two big mammaries rubbing deliciously on his face.

She pretended to be interested as he gloated about his earnings and connections with the rich and famous, ‘ohing’ and ‘ahhing’ with perfect timing. ‘Just watch how I’d end you, asshole!’she thought merrily, images of his blood gushing getting sexually excited. Her erect nipples poked their heads through her bra, the two tiny men, excited to be excited. She looked at him through lowered eyes and saw him staring perfunctorily, visibly aching to touch. ‘The fool probably thinks he’s turned me on!’ she scoffed, cackling in her head.
Touching his thigh slightly, she rested her left breast near his arm, pointing vaguely to a building she claimed was her former apartment.

He lost control of the car. He was barely concentrating on the road, his thoughts going to what he was going to do with her at her home. The feel of her knobs on his arm, temporarily caused him to blank out, blood rushing to his groin. He quickly gained control, apologising profusely. “Its nothing” she murmured, sitting back. He silently prayed his hard on wasn’t visible through his cotton trousers. ‘Melissa! oh baybay! You’re gonna scream for me!

“Here. We’ve got a car park luckily so I don’t have to park across the street” she said and he slowed the car to a stop. She smiled shyly up at him as she thanked him profusely for the ride. “You’re a Godsend Sir!” she gushed and he smiled graciously.
“Please come in! Even just for a cuppa.”

They walked to her apartment and as she opened the door he stood behind her, appreciating her beautifully shaped behind. ‘Now or never’ With the pretext of helping with the door, he pushed his groin slightly into her. He was sure she felt his erect member. He tensed, waiting for an outraged outburst. None. He did a crazy jig in his head, as she welcomed him into her home. He didn’t wonder why she called it her lair.

‘Modest place. Probably lives alone’. He settled in on the sofa as she bustled to the kitchen.
She whistled a little tune as she made tea, opening one of the many kitchen drawers to find her ‘little tin’. She spilled the contents on the counter, and out pored different coloured pills. Some she knew the effects, others she didn’t.
“Which one would it be?” she whispered to herself. She picked a purple coloured, odd-shaped pill and slipped the rest back into their hiding place. She dropped it into his tea and watched it dissolve, her trademark grin, playing across her lips. “I’d be with you in a minute” she shouted to him. She had no idea what the drug did but she couldn’t wait to find out.

He took the proffered tea merely out of courtesy, and through a long-winded conversation about her job, finished his. He relaxed on her sofa and slowly sidled near her. He saw no objection in her demeanour and slyly stretched his arm around her shoulders. “You’re very beautiful” he whispered, watching her blush prettily. She didn’t resist him as he planted a small kiss to her earlobe. His hands quickly went to his object of affection, squeezing and pulling.

Just as he was about to lower his head to lap at her, his stomach revolted so painfully, he doubled over in pain. He felt hot and cold at he same time. Excruciating pain everywhere, concentrated mostly around his groin. He felt his penis pulsating strongly despite the pain, too strongly. He reached over to ask for her help, when he recoiled at the look on her face. Maniacal glee, glittering soulless eyes. Those sexy grey orbs suddenly weren’t sexy anymore. The hint of madness he noticed when she lowered her eyes in the car had become full-blown. With reptilian grace, she sat astride him, kissing and biting his lips, drawing blood. She roughly hit his hand off his stomach and laughed as he groaned in pain, panting, unable to stop her. She yanked his zipper down, grabbing hold of his hot member, squeezing and pulling . “How does it feel to be squeezed and pulled mm? How!”

He grimaced in pain, face turning red as tears trickled from his eyes. “Plea..please”. She grinned at him, sliding down his body. “Please? Didn’t you want me? Mm? Changed your mind too soon?” He gasped in pain as he felt her mouth on him, biting. ‘Like getting head from a crocodile’ he thought, his sardonic side ever-present. He weakly tried to push her off, dragging at her hair. It slid off her skull easily, revealing her short-cropped black hair.
He stared at the wig in his hand in horror.
Leaving his member hanging, she got up and with expert hands, pulled off the padding on her breasts. His eyes were ready to pop out of his head. ‘Bloody racks weren’t real?’ He willed his sardonic self to shut up. “Wh..who ar..are you?”
Smiling without a word, she held the sides of her face, pulling. To his increased horror, her skin came apart; a face mask. A face stared back at him. A face he knew. “You!” With a well-placed punch, she floored him.
He lost consciousness


He woke up to his hands and feet bound to a chair in a badly lit room, naked. He closed his eyes, willing his fogginess to disappear. Suddenly, the memories of what had transpired flooded into his memory, jolting him to wakefulness. Footsteps. She stood behind the light, obscuring her face. “Long time no see Jerry Oakley” the newly unveiled character said loudly in a voice pitched differently
“We can sort this out please. Don’t do this.” he whispered, voice squeaking tremulously.
“Can we? Can we really”
She walked out and wheeled in a gurney-like table to the light, in his line of sight, a teaser of what was coming.
Fear held his stomach in its strong grip as he saw the tools on the table.
He whimpered, losing control of his bowels.

She laughed harshly, voice made louder by the acoustics in the room.

“Now you see me…”

She picked up a tool, a hammer, from the table and swung it furiously at him, knocking him to the floor.

“…Now you don’t”

(All will be revealed in the next post!)

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