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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2010. Please
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Selected Images
Steven S. Davis (sd@magenta.com)
***
My "Images" (a term I stole from Suki) are short ideas,
images, and sketches written for the amusement of and
offered as tribute to my Liege and Lady. A few
selections follow. They are generally cruel and
nonconsensual and of interest only to sickphuxs, so
please read no further if such doesn't appeal to you.
(MF, bd, tor, nc)
***
Author Note: The Images are impurely the products of a
warped imagination, and should not be seen as a
reflection of the scene, nor should they be imitated by
anyone not interested in a protracted term as the ward
of the state.
***
Prisoner's Dilemma
This pretty young lady is walking down a street when she
suddenly finds herself hemmed in by some very mean
looking teenage boys with knives who hustle her off the
street and down an alley where a number of their fellow
gang members are hanging out.
After displaying her, sometimes by forcing her to strike
poses, sometimes by tugging her about and making her
stand on tiptoes by pulling on her long hair; and
feeling her up, roughly, they decide that this should be
shared with the rest of the gang.
So they make her sit in a cardboard box, blindfolded but
not bound, and tell her that they are going to find the
rest of the gang and bring them back so the whole gang
can train her. If she cooperates, they won't hurt her
more than they need to when they rape her, and they'll
let her go when they finish. Cooperating includes
staying in the box, keeping the blindfold on till they
come back, and keeping quiet.
But if they have to track her down, they're going to all
rape her, then they'll skin her alive, then pour alcohol
over her and set her on fire. She then hears the gang
leaving.
So what does she do? Is she being watched? Are they
waiting at the ends of the alley? If she stays she'll be
gang-raped, but she may - may, for she doesn't really
trust her captors - survive; if she leaves, or even
removes the blindfold or asks if anyone is there, and
it's observed, she's going to die a horrible death. They
will certainly catch her again if she or the alley is
being watched.
What does the lovely prisoner do? Take a chance that
it's a mind game and she can walk out unharmed, knowing
what will happen if she's wrong, or wait for them to
come back, with the certainty of horrible suffering and
a possibility of death?
Surrender, Dorothy!
Dorothy is working late one night, as she often does.
She's alone in the office, everyone else having left on
time. Her phone rings, and when she answers, a female
voice says "I have something you need to hear, Mrs.
Gale. It's very important that you stay calm. Now
listen." Next she hears her son saying "Mommy, this is
Ryan..." only to have the phone snatched away.
"He's fine for now, Dorothy," a male voice says. "He
isn't the one we want; you are the one we want. If you
want him to stay fine, you'll put the phone on your desk
and immediately go to your car. Don't stop for anything.
We want no one else involved; if you want your son to
stay healthy, you'll call no one and say nothing to
anyone.
"If you aren't outside in two minutes you probably won't
ever see your son again, and if you do see him, you'll
wish you hadn't. If you say a word to the anyone you'll
never see him again. There will be more instructions at
your car. Now get your pretty ass in motion."
She's panicky, but still in control, and drops the
phone, grabs her coat and purse and runs for the exit.
She's out the door barely in time and hurries past the
gate, rudely ignoring the guard's "good night." When she
gets to her car she finds instructions to drive to a
remote phone booth, and wait for a call. It will be a
long time. She's to stand by the phone but not touch it
until it rings. She drives to the spot and scurries to
the phone. It rings, and she pounces on it.
A third voice, also male, says, "Take your coat and
jacket off; we're going to be watching you and checking
for surveillance and tails for a while before we call
again, and we want something pretty to look at."
"Ryan..." she says, but the phone clicks. She leans
against the booth, trembling, her hands tightly gripping
the receiver, for a time, then walks back to the car and
deposits her grey raincoat and tweed jacket, and goes
back to wait by the phone in her light pink blouse,
short black skirt, and shiny black high heels (didn't
the nuns teach her about those; however, her feet move
too much as she stamps and turns and paces anxiously
around the phone for any of the binoculars or the rifle
scope following her to get a good enough look to prove
the point).
As the hours pass the pleasant autumn afternoon passes
to a chilly autumn night, and Dorothy stands shivering
in the chill, but dare not put anything on. The spot
where she stands seems to be the only lighted spot in
blocks; the moon is dark tonight, all the other
streetlights are out save the one above her, and this
desolate section contains nothing but darkened factories
and warehouses. So odd to find a working phone here; it
looks like it was recently repaired.
The hours passed with Dorothy alone in her tiny circle
of light, knowing that they were out there, knowing they
could be quite close, somewhere close by in the deep
dark that surrounded her, and still no contact, as
Dorothy's tension grew and her breathing became tight
and her heart pounded, and she started to cry in fear
and frustration, and the phone rang.
"Shut up, bitch," the woman's voice said. "You ask no
questions, you just obey if you want your son to live.
Drive into the park; there will be an envelope with
instructions taped to the pillar near the entrance." She
ran to her car and sped to the park, where she found the
instructions telling her to drive a distance into the
park, then get out and walk.
Following her directions, she drove to the spot, then
started walking through the park, which was empty after
dark, hoping desperately that she met no muggers or
rapists who would detain her. She came at last to a
public restroom, long closed but it's locked doors
busted open by the druggies who often came there to
smoke and shoot up. An unexpected light came from the
building, which had probably frightened off those who
would normally be using the spot.
Entering the space, she was struck by the filth and
odor, the building having several layers of dirt on the
walls and floors, the smoke stains and ashes of many
fires, and a considerable accumulation of piss, shit,
and jizz mingling with the garbage and needles littering
the floor. Save in one spot, where the garbage had been
swept aside (though the dirt remained), and four rings
placed in the floor, each with a cuff and chain attached
to it, with a black bag laying on the ground between
them.
There's a light hanging from a hook on the way, running
off a battery to which is taped another envelope with
"Dorothy" written on it.
She snatches the envelope and reads the instructions.
"We'll collect you tomorrow morning; you will wait here
until then. You will remove all your clothes, light the
fire prepared on the wall to your right, and set the
timer on this generator to ten minutes.
"You will then take the dildo gag out of the bag and
fasten it in your mouth, sit down, lock the cuffs on
your ankles, lock the left wrist cuff about your wrist,
put the bag over your head and pull the drawstrings,
then find the other cuff and lock it on your right
wrist. Once the light goes out the druggies will begin
to arrive; they probably won't try to help you, refuse
their help if they do. Some of them will try to rape
you; do not protest. If anyone asks to fuck you, say
yes.
"Don't worry about disease; when it's our turn to fuck
you we'll use condoms, so we won't catch any, and you'll
die when you no longer react amusingly enough to our
tortures, so you needn't worry about what you might
catch. It won't kill you. We will, if you stay."
"We are watching the building, but no one will interfere
if you leave; we'll even guarantee you that no
assailants will bother you on your way back to your car,
which we've been watching, so it will still be there.
You can leave safely and we'll not bother you again. But
if you leave, we will skin Ryan alive, cut off his
fingers, toes, and penis, then cauterize the wounds so
he doesn't bleed to death, and impale him on a spit,
then roast him. We'll send you his digits in the mail. A
Gale is going to suffer a terrible death; we'd rather it
was you, but you make the choice."
As she read the note, Dorothy slumped against, then slid
down the wall, oblivious to its filth. She sat on the
floor, trembling, curled into a ball knees pulled up and
head down, the note clutched tightly in her hand as she
wept and struggled with her choice.
The Walk
The woman walked down the empty streets on her way home
from work. Her second shift job kept her till after most
people in her little town are in bed. As she walked down
the empty street a van drives along, slowing slightly as
it passes her, then speeding up and turning at the next
corner. A few minutes later a van very much like the
first one passed her, very slowly, then turned a corner.
She was a little spooked by this, but when nothing
happened for the next several minutes she relaxed a bit.
Being scoped out is annoying, and sometimes a little
scary, but someone as pretty as her had it happen too
often to waste much energy getting upset about it.
Then she heard wheels on the quiet road behind her, and
turned back to look and her heart jumped to her throat
as she sees the same van stopping a half block behind
her and four men getting out. Four males actually, boys
rather than men, but each of them bigger than her.
She started walking faster; telling herself not to look
back, don't look scared, don't appear like an easy
victim, but she couldn't help taking quick looks back.
Two of them were matching her speed on the sidewalk
behind her; the other two ran across the street and with
dismaying speed were walking parallel to her.
The van drove slowly up the street, almost stopping as
it pulled alongside her, but then speeding forwards.
This time, before it turned the corner, two more
teenagers got out, and started slowly walking towards
her. Glancing at the others she saw that the two behind
her had sped up and closed the distance on her. She was
boxed in; God, how she wished she had a weapon.
When the two across the street started to cross it, she
saw they'd converge on her simultaneously. Six to one,
and all six bigger than her. What to do? No one would
answer a door at this time of night; if she screamed
long enough someone might call the police, but she knew
they'd be on her in a minute if she screamed and they'd
silence her before anyone would react.
No place to run, unless - yes, she was coming up on an
alley, they wouldn't converge on her before she reached
it, the little bastards had screwed up, she had a
chance.
Reaching the alley, she turned quickly and bolted down
the dark alley, running as fast as her feet would carry
her, so thankful she wasn't in heels, listening to the
echoes in the alley and surprised to hear only her own
footfalls. They weren't pursuing! She'd escape!
Then she was caught in the glare of headlights that
switched on in front of her, nearly blinding her, but
she could tell, to her shock and horror, that they came
from a van which blocked the narrow alley, and that it
had started rolling towards her. She looked back to see
the six boys advancing on her from the other direction.
Franticly she looked around; no doors, no way out - then
she saw a drainpipe, and ran to it and jumped up and
started climbing it, as curses ripped through the quiet
night air and running feet pounded the pavement and the
door of the van scraped against the wall of the alley,
but it was too tight and precious seconds were gained
before someone came out the back of the van and ran
across its roof to jump for the drainpipe, but she had
too big a lead and she was going to get away.
Until the drainpipe, unable to hold the weight of two
people, pulled away from the wall and lurched over the
alley, leaving her clinging to it as the boys below her
laughed and jeered and tried to look up her skirt, then
tugged on the pipe, causing her to crash to the
pavement, where she lay stunned as they gathered around
her and several removed their belts and she tried to
bolt but they caught her and soon had her on her back on
the ground, with a belt looped around her neck and
choking off her cries while her arms and legs were held
and other belts were tied around her wrists and
encircled her knees and abdomen, trapping her arms
against her body, then they picked her up and placed her
on her feet in the headlights of the van, the better to
admire their prize.
As they laughed and boasted of what they would show her,
she observed that none of them appeared more than half
her age, a bunch of ignorant drunken schoolchildren, but
schoolchildren who had raging hormones, and who had her.
As she stood there sickened, lost in her ugly
anticipations, they laughed loudly, and picked her up
and passed her over the top of the van and deposited her
behind it.
They pulled down her skirt, and took a rope from the
van. They tied it around her waist, the pulled it
between her legs, bringing it snuggly against her
crotch, then tied the other end to the van. They stuffed
a towel in her mouth and taped over her mouth, then
piled into the van and started driving away slowly, as
their prisoner, pulled along by the crotch rope,
shuffled her feet as quickly as the belt around her
knees would allow.
She followed the van down the alley and out into the
streets, where she walked for what seemed like miles.
The few cars that passed this illicit parade had no idea
what to make of it. None stopped. Some did call the
police after they got home; by the time anyone went
looking the van, had pulled off the road, and when the
police arrived at the address where the van was
registered was when it's owner first learned it had been
stolen.
The police quickly found the discarded van. The woman
was harder to find, until the buzzards showed the way.
The Plank
The woman (taken from her bed by silent abductors in
black robes and masks who had seized and bound her, her
furious struggles doing nothing to awaken her SO, and
brought her bound and blindfolded to an unknown place,
where she was closely chained to the walls of a pitch
black room and held for many hours) is taken from her
dark confinement.
Her wrists are bound behind her, a short hobble placed
on her ankles, and a bar placed below her elbows and
fasten to them, and her escorts hold the bar and force
her slowly forward, ignoring all her demands, questions,
and pleas. At last they come to an elevator, and go down
a floor to a large, dimly lit room with a long plank on
a swivel and a number of dark pits in the floor.
She's led on a slow circuit of the room, lamps used to
reveal the contents of the pits: ravenous dogs, sharp
spikes, snakes, boiling oil, acid, flesh eating insects
(the last two are demonstrated for her by lowering large
chunks of meat into the pits); several have nets at the
bottom, and one of those has a conspicuously open door.
The woman is brought to the steps that lead to the plank
and forced up them. Standing before the plank, her bare
feet are slipped into some very high spiked heels, and
ankle straps buckled to keep them there. Throughout this
event, hers has been the only voice heard.
Before being forced onto it, sharp spikes rise from the
floor under the plank, and she's allowed to watch the
plank make one complete revolution, and observes that
it's end passes over all the pits. Then she's
blindfolded and prodded forwards with long sharp pikes.
As she hobbles forwards, taking the tiny steps that are
all her hobble will allow and trying to keep her balance
in her ultrahigh heels, the plank begins to move,
aggravating the difficulty in keeping her balance.
She knows that the only chance of survival is to reach
the end of the plank and step off it into one of the
pits with the nets (though, as she thinks of what is in
some of those pits, the idea of falling onto the spikes
below her and to a comparatively merciful end is
alluring, but she fights it off). Keeping her balance
becomes even harder as she goes further and further out
on the wobbly plank.
Her tiny steps mean she has some inkling when her toes
have reached the end of the plank and now poke over
empty air. Now, if only she knew which pit she was over,
but the dogs are trained not to bark and the sudden
sound of eerie music blaring from unseen loud speakers
obscures any sounds the snakes or insects might make,
and she struggles to stand on the edge of the plank, too
scared to jump into an unknown and possibly terrible
fate but knowing she has no alternative, until fatigue
and the growing instability of the plank finally causes
her to fall, screaming into one of the dark holes.
Her fall is broken by a net, and shortly her blindfold
is removed to reveal a group of black robed people,
perhaps her abductors, she couldn't tell if it were
another set, surrounding the net in which she lays. Two
seize and hold her head, while another points to the
open door before a cloth is pressed over the woman's
face and blackness surrounds her.
She awakens trembling in her bed, her SO sound asleep
beside her, and dreadful images in her sleep clouded
mind. She stumbles to the bathroom to splash some water
on her face and try to shake the after effects of her
terrible nightmare. Leaning over the sink, she pushes
back her pajama sleeves to fill her cupped hands with
water, and stops in stunned horror as she looks at the
rope burns on her wrists.
Desert Decision
She knew better. The young woman knew not to drive with
her car doors unlocked. And yet she hard, and two men
had appeared from nowhere while she was stopped at a red
light and forced their way into her car. They drove into
the desert and laid her naked on the sharp sand and
spent the night repeatedly raping her, turning her over
again and again to use one hole and then the other,
nearly abrading a layer of skin before their lust was
spent.
Then they drove off in her as the sun rose car, leaving
her bound and naked under the scorching desert sun. A
few hours later two cars drove up to where she lay,
still bound despite vigorous struggles, and resigned to
her fate. Or she had been until she heard the cars
approach, and had looked up hopefully to see her own car
followed by another.
The police must have caught them, she thought
ecstatically, and were coming to rescue her. Her head
dropped to the ground as she wept tears of joy and
relief, and as footsteps approached her she opened her
eyes, and looked up into the faces of her captors, and
screamed in shock before her heart sank in despair.
"We didn't want to leave you without a sporting chance,"
one of them said, as they rolled over the helpless woman
and made cruel, deep piercings of her breasts, then put
thick rings through the piercings, before they untied
her legs and pierced her clit, and put a ring through
that piercing as well.
Then they slowly worked three rings into a large ground
rock and ran chains from her rings to those in the rock.
When done that, they took a torch and welded her rings
so they couldn't be removed, and when they revived her
(she had passed out from the heating of the metal that
now resided in her delicate flesh), she was no longer
bound, and they tossed her the keys to her car.
"It's full of gas; there's also plenty of food and water
and a chest of ice, and a first aid kit. If you can get
to it you'll live. If you can't, well, at no time of the
day will there be an inch of shade where you are now,
and the sun will kill you. Getting to the car is simple;
just tear out your rings. Without chain cutters there's
no other way to get free. If you're strong and brave
enough to tear them out, you'll survive, though your sex
life may not. If you aren't strong and brave enough,
you'll die, and you'll deserve to die."
With those kind words, the two men got in the other car
and drove away, and left the woman to make her decision.
***
Steven S. Davis sd@magenta.com
Homepage, vanilla: http://links.magenta.com/~sd
Homepage, pistachio:
http://links.magenta.com/lmnop/users/sd.html
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 66