By Geoffrey Merrick

( Illustations by Agnès )

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Even in her condition, Michelle couldn’t help but shudder at what she perceived there. A brass bed bolted
to the floor. An impaling pole. A wood block. Shackles in the wall, floor, and ceiling. A wooden “X.” A steel cross.
Straight back chairs with steel, wooden, rubber, and plastic penis-shaped prods attached. A hospital gurney with
hospital restraints and electroshock equipment. Lace, leather, rubber, and spandex clothes strewn everywhere. Straps,
cuffs, tape, and cloth everywhere else.

Outside the room, the blonde and brunette assistants unclipped Denise, Kerrie, and Stacy from their
corsets, but what they replaced them with was worse. A rubber coated wire crushed their breasts. Twelve-inch dildos
were jammed up their cunts and secured by belts between their thighs to belts crushing their waists. Then their knees
and elbows were cinched, and their wrists shackled and hung behind them from the ceiling -- so they were bent over,
cringing and crying, their high heels scraping the carpet like harnessed ponies.

“Shut up, bitch,” the host’s assistants said as they forced penis-prod gags into each of the abducted
girls’ ring-gagged mouths, locking them into place with a groove at the base of the prods. “Just be glad you’re not
in there, with super cunt....”

The jockeying for the next slot was lively, since they all knew Michelle had to be close to explosion from the vengeful model agency woman’s machinations. The less-endowed Asian won in a fever of bidding, knowing that this was his best possibility of satisfaction.

Her hair cleansed, her body washed, Michelle was hurled onto the bed, her wrists tied behind her to her waist, her ankles still hobbled. The Asian snaked between her legs, jammed himself inside and set to rutting as she writhed and shook -- trying desperately to gain release both internally and externally. Both were denied her as the Asian’s pathetic attempts couldn’t ignite the model agency rival’s fuse.

Sobbing in shame, contorting, her muscles spasming, Michelle was torn at by the frustrated little man, his hands finally clamping around her throat. The others watched, fascinated, as Michelle’s body stiffened and her face grew dark, then a sickly gray.

Then a deep voice said, “That’s enough,” and her kidnapper stepped up, swatted the Asian’s hands aside like gnats and plucked him off the strangling girl like a marionette. His tiny dick popped out of her as she coughed and shook.

The little man coughed and shook as well until the spiky-haired host took him aside with a profuse thank you. “It’s perfect,” he assured him. “Couldn’t be better. You’ll see.” Then he placed a gold whistle to his lips and blew it soundlessly.

To the gathered crowd’s amazement three small white dogs appeared, racing into the room like fast moving
clouds. Leaping up to the bed in a strictly and obviously trained formation, one went to each of Michelle’s breasts
and the other dug it’s head deep between her legs. Squealing, Michelle jerked back to full life, rolling and twisting,
trying to get away from their nipping teeth and rough wet tongues.

The crowd watched, astonished, for a few seconds at the roiling figures before the spiky-haired host said; “Well? Who wants her feet?”

The men raced forward, grabbing her ankles and pulling them wide along the baseboard railing. The kidnapper moved casually forward, wrapped an armful of Michelle’s honeyed hair in his fist and forced her head down to the pillow.

“Okay,” said their host. “Watch closely. Brandy, Scotch, Vodka? Now come.”

That was their code word. The little dogs went at her breasts and cunt like hyper machines. The one between her legs inserted her snout, nipping teeth, and darting tongue almost all the way inside the struggling girl.

The others watched, enraptured, as Michelle’s nipples hardened and seemed to inflate, her skin shone then grew deeply red, her thighs slickened, and she began to moan and cry, her head all the way back and her eyes screwed shut.

When she came, she almost exploded out of all their grips, nearly scalping herself. But somehow, through
all her shrieks and writhing they held on...and the dogs didn’t even slow.

“Okay,” said the host calmly. “Now let go.” Then he barked “Titan, Trigger, Tango. Fetch.”

Through the door came two pit bulls and a rottweiler. The tiny white dogs immediately leaped off the bed
and raced out while one pit bull went to Michelle’s throat, expertly placing her neck in its mouth, it’s teeth
clamping on without breaking the skin.

Michelle’s eyes popped open.

The other pit bull wedged itself under her ear, forcing up her hips.

Michelle’s blue-green honeyed eyes grew wider in amazement and dread.

The rottweiler placed its paws on either side of her tiny waist and jammed its haunches against her beaver.

Michelle screamed as the host’s assistants nimbly and tightly strapped her ankles wide to the baseboard posts. Then she was forced to watch herself be raped by the dog.

Outside the tycoon abused the student, the model agency owner fondled the waitress, and the Asian slobbered on the breasts of the cringing blonde, but inside the others watched as the “World’s Most Beautiful Girl” was fucked by a well-trained, surprisingly endowed rottweiler -- her throat held down by one pit bull, and her haunches raised by another.

Then her kidnapper slowly lowered his hand to rest on one of her ample, strong breasts. As the dog
continued to rut madly, he carefully squeezed, then began to twist. Then The Bitch lowered her hand onto Michelle’s
other breast, and started to maul that as well. The dog with her elegant neck in its mouth didn’t move, save for one
eye, which followed their hands’ molestations.

The show was spectacular as each of Michelle’s bones and muscles seemed to shift, and the expressions of horror on her defiled face changed by the second. First incomprehension, then confusion, then dawning awareness, then unacceptance, then total realization, torment, humiliation, and, finally, repugnance -- as the others, seemingly on a silent signal, began to unzip themselves and masturbate all around her.

Smiling, his dark eyes beaming, the host raised his hand. He didn’t even have to say anything. Everyone
knew what the lowering of his hand would mean....

For a few moments, the only sound of the room was flesh on flesh; hands on cocks, hands kneading her
breasts, the dog’s penis thrusting inside her....and then the host’s quiet voice. “Tango...?”

His hand dropped. “...Come.” The dog ejaculated inside her. Almost everyone spurted; on her face, chest,
stomach, hips, and legs. Michelle screamed in agonized frustration, bucking and writhing. But they all just laughed
and fell on her, the dogs scrambling aside.