Help Wanted
Chapter 8
When I returned to the hall where the gangbang had been taking place, I
found it deserted. There was no action, no Dina and of course, no Miranda as
well. I asked around and learned that the gangbang had ended close to noon,
meaning no record for Dina. I'm sure the poor kid was all upset over that.
Miranda and some Japanese guy had taken charge of Dina and whisked her away to
parts unknown. I kept asking around and another person let me in on the fact
that there was a Japanese video crew working somewhere in the area. It took some
doing, but I'm a persistent guy when I have to be, and so I discovered where
this little clambake was taking place.
I got the cold shoulder when I arrived at the rundown house located
maybe a quarter mile from the main buildings of the complex. First no one spoke
English, so I resorted to my trump card, threatening to go to the local police
to find out what the hell they were doing to the two women that were my
responsibility. For my trouble, I had the door slammed in my face. Now I'm a man
who abhors violence unless I have to resort to it for either my own protection
or to protect my interests. So I took a deep breath and kicked in the door.
That seemed to get their attention. Two guys came barreling out from a
room located within the house. Fortunately for me no one in the video crew knew
the first thing about self-protection, and they were either too dumb or on too
tight a budget to afford some muscle to prevent people like myself from horning
in on what they were doing. I made a feint toward the nonexistent gun I was
carrying and they turned tail and fled back into the room from whence they had
come. I followed, shouting threats in English and screaming out Dina and her
mother's names. I burst into the room and got the shock of my life.
Hanging by her big tits from a rope attached to a hook in the ceiling
was Dina. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back and drawn up to attach to the
leather collar around her neck. Those big bags of fun had turned an interesting
shade of purple, lilac I think, as she spun slowly in one direction until the
rope was fully coiled, then in the other as it uncoiled. She had the beginnings
of some major whip marks covering part of her naked body. Standing behind her,
looking like a pair of statues, were these two Japanese babes wearing some very
weird outfits. They consisted of studded leather tops that did a poor job of
hiding their tits, leather bikinis with enough zippers to protect them from the
most determined rapist, high-heeled boots that came up to mid thigh, spiked
wristlets and matching collars plus sunglasses that gave them an otherworldly
look. What really caught my attention were the whips these two carried. These
were very serious looking pieces of leather and it was obvious they were the
real deal based on the welts decorating Dina.
The next thing I homed in on was Miranda. She was seated on a wooden
chair, back arched and legs spread by a combination of straps, ropes and
manacles that held her naked body in a vise-like grip. Tape was holding her eyes
wide open and a battery powered dildo was churning away inside her drooling
cunt. She was positioned so that she could watch the two dominatrices destroy
her step-daughter's body with those cruel whips.
Huddled just beyond the harsh lighting that illuminated this strange
scene were a couple of people operating a pair of cameras and the director, who
turned out to be a thin, very intense Japanese babe in her late 30s, also
wearing dark sunglasses. "Wait please, we have permission to do this. Don't
shot, please!" The voice came from still another faceless silhouette who moved
towards me holding out a sheet of paper. As he approached he pointed at Miranda
and added, "She said this was fine to do. She even wanted to be in the video as
well. Please, read the script before doing anything that would harm the making
of this video."
I presumed this was the guy that Miranda had been seen leaving with
originally. I had the very funny feeling that this guy was telling the truth. He
turned to the lady director and said something in Japanese to her and she
muttered back at him in a high-pitched sing-song reply that seemed to indicate
that she wasn't exactly thrilled over this interruption in her shooting
schedule. I wondered how she'd feel with my shoe up her ass, but decided to take
a diplomatic approach with these folks. "You tell gorgeous that she better not
try anything funny until I get done reading this script and talk matters over
with Miranda." He pressed the slightly crumpled paper into my hands and stepped
back to talk with madame director.
I went over to Miranda to find out what the hell was really going on.
Somehow I wasn't surprised when she took full responsibility for this little
scene. It seems she and Dina had hatched this plan on the plane, already aware
that this video team was going to be shooting an S&M tape featuring local talent
for the Japanese underground market. It seems their customers would pay big
bucks to watch American women being tortured to within an inch of their lives,
as well as being totally humiliated in the process by those from the land of the
rising sun. Miranda then gave me a brief outline of what was to occur during the
first half of this sick little tape.
Miranda was supposed to be an industrial spy who was caught stealing
industrial secrets. In an effort to get her to reveal her corporate accomplice,
they would torture her daughter, played by Dina, in her presence until she told
them what they wanted. In the opening scene the two dominatrices were going to
whip Dina from neck to knee while Miranda watched helplessly. These two were
professionals and were experts when it came to using these terrible weapons that
could peel the skin from their victim's body. After whipping Dina until she was
a bleeding piece of meat they would interrogate Miranda, who would refuse to
cooperate. They would then beat her with rubber hoses to soften her up for the
next questioning period. Miranda admitted that the prospect of being beaten to a
pulp made her wet. It made me nauseous. Things got even worse after this sick
scene was finished.
Dina would be given the water cure, a fiendish torture that involved
forcing a hose down her throat so that her stomach could be filled with water
until it got so big that it pressed her lungs flat causing her to pass out. I
could not believe my ears when Miranda casually mentioned that Dina's dad and
his first wife had been using this technique to discipline their daughter ever
since she was ten years old. They liked it because it left no marks that
snooping people such as her teachers, the family doctor or even the school nurse
could use to cause trouble for them. Her new husband had a scrapbook filled with
pictures of his young daughter growing up. In many of these, as she developed
breasts and pubic hair, her belly would be grotesquely distended to the point
that she looked as if she were nine months pregnant with twins. He had pictures
of her bluish colored face before and after having her bulging midsection beaten
with a rubber hose to force her to involuntarily empty the contents.
I began to get a funny feeling that I was in deep doo-doo. My client was
a bit more than he had let on, and if I didn't watch my step, I might wind up
with a dead teen on my hands and a very poor alibi for allowing it to happen.
Miranda continued to breathlessly fill me in on what was going to happen next.
After giving Dina the water cure, perhaps twice, both times emptying her stomach
by beating it with rubber hoses, they would interrogate Miranda once again. Lit
cigarettes and a cattle prod would not be sufficient to make her talk, even
after they taped it in place, and let it run until she passed out from the pain.
She confessed that she was a bit worried about the prod, since she knew she'd be
soaked after the burning and zapping, which would boost the power that the prod
would deliver once it was buried deep inside her cunt.
From there, Dina would be gang raped, no big deal after what she had
just been through, except it would feature not only men, but the two
dominatrices and even the director, all equipped with huge pussy punishing
dildos. Not only that, the teen would then be forced to have sex with a trio of
dogs, large Akitas, a Japanese breed trained to have sex with humans. They were
being provided by a local kennel master who dabbled in bestiality as a very
profitable and private sideline. By now my head was spinning. I shook it hard to
clear the miasma that was forming inside it and decided to try to contact Dina's
father , who had left his number with me for an emergency only. To my way of
thinking, this qualified.
I went over to the guy who had given me the script, such as it was, and
told him I was leaving for about an hour, but I'd be back. I warned him that I
did not want any trouble from him or his friends, but if they gave me a hard
time of it I'd make sure that they never got out of the country with their
video. I also had him understand that I was responsible for the safety of the
two females, and expected to find both alive and in one piece when I got back. I
thought his head was going to fall off from the way he nodded it. Then I had him
walk over with me to where the skinny director was, so he could translate to her
my warning that her candy ass was dog meat if the two females were seriously
harmed while I was away. She stiffened noticeably when I made the throat cutting
sign, so I knew she was getting the message. My little buddy made sure that I
was OK with letting them do the first couple of parts of the scene in my
absence. I was sort of sorry I wouldn't see Miranda take a good beating, but
that was the price for being responsible.
As I hot-footed it back to the complex so I could call my client, I
tried to figure out what time it was in Tokyo, and gave up. I never could deal
with that International Date Line nonsense, but I guessed that it might be
morning back where he was. I dialed the number and fidgeted as I waited for
someone to pick up the phone. It was my lucky day, or perhaps it was Dina and
Miranda's lucky day, because I recognized the voice on the other end. I wasted
no time giving him the lowdown on what was taking place with the Japanese video
crew. For the next few minutes I got an earful from him about butting in on
things that were none of my business. I was told in no uncertain terms that I
was to be strictly an observer and let Miranda call the shots. "Unless one of
them is bleeding to death or about to have one of her tits hacked off, you stay
out of it! Don't bother me again with this kind of nonsense; didn't you learn
anything about these two yet? What the hell have you been doing down there?"
That last remark cut deep since I hadn't spent much time with either one of them
as a result of all the loose women and moppets that were floating around the
premises.
I took my sweet time getting back to the house; I was pissed and needed
to get myself together. Also I wasn't really up for watching those Japs turn
these two bitches into chunks of bloody, blistered meat. For all my obvious
failings, watching women being tortured, raped and degraded by a bunch of sick
freaks was not my thing in the slightest. I pushed my way past the kicked-in
door and entered the place. I could hear muffled screams coming from where they
were shooting this massacre, but couldn't tell who they were coming from.
What was left of Dina dangled from the ropes noosing her horribly
swollen, bleeding tits, which had now taken on an ugly shade of purplish black.
She was bleeding from dozens of places and her firm body looked like a barber's
pole that had started to melt. As she twisted and turned she presented a crazy
quilt of deep slashes, cuts, welts and gashes covering every possible area on
her body. She even had a couple of deep welts across her face; evidently the
whip artists now and then missed their target, or perhaps got carried away with
what they were doing. Her firm round ass was one solid lump of bleeding meat. It
was cross hatched with layers of deep cuts. From the looks of that butt the two
dominatrices must have stood on either side and taken turns cutting that
outstanding ass into shreds. In fact I realized that there were drops of blood
extending a couple of feet from where she hung. The teen was still breathing,
that was good, but the damage she had sustained staggered me, that was very bad.
I next located the source of the muffled screams. One of the sunglass
wearing babes was extinguishing her cigarette out on Miranda's nipple. From the
looks of her tits they must have already gone through at least a half pack of
cigarettes. I motioned for my little buddy to come over so I could have a little
chat with him. "How come the lady's gagged like that?" I asked. He grinned and
replied, "She makes too much noise. We dub in her screams later, make them sound
real good too." I had to chuckle to myself at this; poor Miranda couldn't even
scream properly. What kind of a future did she have in this kind of work?
It was then that I smelled the sickening odor of sizzling flesh and
heard an even louder scream come from her gagged mouth. They had just hit her
with the cattle prod! One of the ladies had poked it into her lower belly, just
above her drooling cunt, and pulled the trigger. There was nothing much I could
do except watch the prod send arc after arc of electricity into her bare flesh,
moving from her chest to her cunt and making plenty of stops in between. She was
in such a contorted position that every time she was hit with a jolt, her chest
stopped moving, meaning the pain was so severe that she couldn't breath while
the juice was jumping into her stiff body.
I had to admit that these two torturers really knew what they were
doing. They took turns giving her all the amps she could take. For a while the
two of them concentrated on using the prod on her thighs and then her calves.
She started sweating and her eyes looked as if they were trying to pop right out
of her head. The muscle cramps that she now was experiencing were unreal. I
could see the muscles actually knotting up as the sharp prong touched the
pebbled skin, the purple arc seeming to follow as the prod was removed to some
distance before it was broken. Finally they pulled the gag from her mouth and
took turns slapping her face and screaming into her ears. I guess that her part
would be overdubbed here as well since the audience for this stuff probably
couldn't recognize English from Urdu.
Miranda proved to be a trouper, shaking her head and yelling at the top
of her lungs that she'd never talk. That's when her big moment came. Back into
her mouth went the gag and then the prod was carefully worked deep into her
cunt. To make sure it was as far in as it would go, they tried jabbing it to see
her reaction. I guess having your uterus punched lke a bag would make the
stongest woman start begging for her mommy, which was probably what Miranda was
doing behind the gag. Satisfied that the prod was perfectly positioned to fry
her baby-making equipment, they hit the trigger and held it down as Miranda
began to piss all over herself and do her best to swallow her tongue. The
director was standing up and clapping her hands like a little kid playing some
game. This was freaky.
The stench of Miranda's insides frying was too strong for this cowboy,
so I retreated from the room to get a breath of what passed for fresh air. It
was then that I realized I was about to toss my cookies and I barely made it
outside before heaving my guts out. I thought I was a tough guy, but what was
going on inside had literally turned my stomach. By the time I got myself back
together and returned to the set, they were getting Dina ready for the water
cure. Miranda was unconscious, her body limp in the restraints. I wondered if I
was now going to be able to justify breaking up this freak show.
( To be continued)
