Chapter 5 - Prepping The Prey
Steel handcuffs were bolted to the top of a steel frame he'd constructed
in the back of the van. He hoisted her up and snapped the cuffs tightly around
her slim wrists. Karen dangled limply from the apex of the A-frame.
Fred didn't like his meat talking back to him. It frustrated the cunts
if they couldn't yap at him. He just wanted them to squeal and grunt like the
pigs they were.
While stalking Karen, he had overheard her remarking that she never ate
breakfast, couldn't be bothered. This had given him an idea. It's not good to
skip to skip the morning meal, so he had thoughtfully prepared breakfast for
her.
He pulled a tasty, urine-soaked sponge wrapped around a thick turd from
a ziploc plastic bag. He parted her lips and stuffed it into her mouth. He loved
thinking about the inevitable moment when the bitch, in a moment of supreme
panic and stress, swallowed the piss-soaked fecal sponge. Until she gulped it
down, Karen would spend her every waking moment sucking on it, feeling it
carefully with her tongue, tasting it, wondering what the horrid object in her
mouth was. Tiny bits of fecal matter and urine would be trickling down her
throat almost continuously. Most snotty bitches probably hadn't spent much time
eating shit and drinking piss, so Fred was happy to engineer some quality time
tasting a turd for Karen.
For now, Fred worked to seal in the goodness. He took a curved
sailmaker's needle, normally used for sewing canvas, and some stout black
thread. He knotted one end of the thread. Pinching her lips tightly together
with his fingers, he punched the needle through both lips and stitched them
together. He used big loops of the thick black thread, pulling them tight,
sealing in the yummy sponge. When he was done, he tied off the end and snipped
the thread close to the knot with a pair of scissors.
Fred wasn't too keen on the language of the eyes either. He liked his
bitches locked deep in a dark, sightless world of worry, anguish and sudden,
unexpected pain, not able to see what was going to happen next, unpleasantly
surprised by the brutal little games that were so dear to his heart. He pulled
out the needle and thick, black thread. He knotted the end of the thread.
Pinching her long eyelashes together with his fingers, he lifted them up from
the surface of the eyeball. He stitched each pair of eyelids together, using
rows of small stitches.
It was important to have the meat fully exposed, totally vulnerable. To
this end he tied two loops of clothesline around her dainty ankles and fastened
them to ringbolts set in either side of the steel frame, spreading her shapely
legs wide and exposing her pouty, 'split apricot' slit nicely.
Not wanting any messy accidents in the back of his van, he parted her
smooth, unresisting buttocks, exposing her wrinkled brown rectum. He poked in
his curved sailmaker's needle and stitched her rectum shut. It was no loss to
him. He wasn't a backdoor man anyway.
It was time to reward himself. He put some cushions on the floor of the
van so that, kneeling on them in front of her, his knees were comfortable and he
was hip to hip with his victim. Excited by his exertions, he pulled out his
thick dick, oiled it up with some baby oil for ease of entry, and encunted her.
Quickly, he bunny-fucked her unconscious nakedness, emptied himself copiously
deep inside her and withdrew.
Wiping his dick clean and pulling his pants back up, he stepped through
the curtain to the front of the van, hopped happily into the driver's seat and
drove off.
In the back, Karen dangled loosely, swaying with the movement of the
van, his cum dribbling thickly down her widespread inner thighs.
After a nice drive to the country, he pulled into a disused lane. He
turned off the engine and stepped into the back of the van. He could tell by the
moans and whimpers that Karen was awake. It was time to play with his new
fleshtoy.
