Dark Erotic Fiction

The Aftermath - Part V

By about two in the morning, Sheila and Gabrielle had completed their joyful romp in bed and were playfully squirting each other with the spray hose in the suite’s large Jacuzzi. Under their laughing forms, Mary and Shelly were miserably sputtering and sobbing as soap and water sluiced onto them from their betrayers” bodies. The two resistance leaders meant to clean up much more than just the urine on their fallen comrades and the sex musk on themselves.

Gabrielle finished up rinsing shampoo off Mary”s red, tear-streaked face while Sheila stood by the bathroom mirror, quickly patting her body down with an oversize, fluffy towel. The spray hose off, Gabrielle grinned up at her co-conspirator. Then, her smile froze and her eyes widened in terror in the final micro-seconds before the twin darts of Sheila”s taser jammed into her upper torso. Sheila cruelly fired high voltage down the coils of wire again and again until she was sure that Gabrielle was completely subdued.

“Sorry, honey,” Sheila whispered to her former best friend in the world. “It”s only business, you know. The revolution must live on and you are the only remaining link that could bring me down.” She lovingly rubbed the quivering face of her lover. “You understand, - don”t you?”

Gabrielle Crooks was far too disoriented from the multiple 450,000 volt shocks that had just coursed through her wet and defenseless body. Her overloaded muscles had become jelly-like as the lactic acid from the bone-jarring electric-fueled spasms, reducing her to a quivering, defenseless mass. Sheila had intentionally purchased the most powerful taser on the market; one banned by most law enforcement agencies as too risky for use.

Sheila picked up her discarded towel, wrapped it around her lush form, and picked up the phone. “Holly, honey,” she purred. “It”s that time. I want you to have my slavegirls picked up right now. Yes, - I know your concerns, - but we already covered this in great detail. Oh, - by the way, send a cart large enough for three. And, - I want them gutted and spitted within the hour, - after all, you know the consequences if you don”t get them roasting. You will follow my directions exactly if you don”t want to be linked to tonight”s events.”

While she waited for the kitchen staff to arrive, Sheila straightened up the room, adding Gabrielle”s things to the pile destined for the hotel incinerator. The easy tasks freed her mind for remembering the last time she”d seen Holly in person when she”d walked outside the glass lobby entry of the National Media Headquarters reserved for the exclusive use of the downtown office of Spellbook Slaves and Games.

“Holly had just walked outside with a woman who liked like she was some kind of Norse queen come to life. I was close enough in my recon to hear the poor idiot bemoan the way she”d been bullied by Darlene, the ex-owner she admired so much, to take her for some wild sex with that jackal Mike West,” Sheila remembered. The blonde Mistress became disgusted with Holly and left her there looking like she was going to vomit.

“I was wearing a blonde wig, that tight grey business skirt and jacket, decorative-top hose, and no panties, bra, or shirt.” She smiled at the memory of how easy it had been to get the attention of the huge-titted Mistress as she left Holly by the slaver”s building. “It was a target of opportunity. All I really hoped to accomplish that day was a preliminary survey of some target sites. Then, I saw those “double-Ds” and the Mistress outfit and it was too good a chance to pass up. All it took was a hand signal bring the van forward to the curb, warn Gabrielle what we were doing, get to the sidewalk before the Mistress, drop my briefcase, and point my ass toward her. The poor thing was putty in my hands; she had drool running down the front of her Mistress outfit before I even tasered her.”

“Holly doomed herself when she didn”t call for help after recognizing me. Plus, the camera that Gabrielle Crooks was running of the NMG headquarters clearly caught Holly”s look of recognition in the background behind where the tasered Mistress twitched on the sidewalk. Priceless!” Sheila muttered with real satisfaction. “We had to quickly get a program together to handle that huge Mistress, but it was well worth it. I hope to start releasing video clips of her humiliation soon.”

Sheila remembered that after lewdly exposing her crotch, she casually walked to the driver’s door as if nothing happened. “That”s when I saw Holly staring at me. I winked at her and left. Whatta hoot!”

“Since then,” Sheila continued to herself, “I”ve been periodically contacting the girl about once every five or six months using a special phone. She had no choice but to give us cash, Mike West”s habits and his office locations, and the access code to his office. Silly slut, - she”s mine forever now.”

When the kitchen team timidly knocked on the door, Sheila was ready with a grin because her plan was going so flawlessly.

A narrow spray of mace squirted between the opening door and the steel jamb, striking Sheila squarely in the eyes. Aggressively pursuing the attack, Holly stepped forcefully into the room, crouched into a batter”s stance, and two-handedly swung a heavy police baton across Sheila”s belly with the weight and power of her torso behind the blow. In rapid succession, thumping blows to legs, arms, and her back followed. At least one sharp crackling pop told of broken bones. Sheila ended up weakly writhing on the floor, unaware and unable to resist when Holly knelt down and used bright red nylon binding rope to secure ankles and wrists together. When she was finished, Sheila was a mass of pain contorted in a painful hogtie.

With a clatter of wheels, Holly tugged a huge laundry cart into the suite. She took care of the easy things first; bags, suitcases, and personal effects. Two sets of van keys were tucked into Holly”s pocket for later use.

The hotel kitchen was dark, cold, and completely deserted at two thirty in the morning. The early shift would arrive in less than an hour and a half. Gabrielle whimpered in horror when Holly whisked a beige plastic cover aside to reveal a Jessica 3000. Because she was working alone with dangerous slaves, and because she had a little compassion for two of the women she was murdering, Holly gave Shelly and Mary a strong dose of quickly metabolized tranquilizer suitable for livestock. Then, she slipped Gabrielle”s weakly resisting form into the Jessica 3000 cradle system while the drugs went to work on the two duped assistants.

“Normally,” Holly lectured to Sheila and Gabrielle as the Jessica 3000 sprang to life, beginning a merciless fucking motion into Gabrielle”s softly bucking form, “it”s recommended to let the machine fuck and shock the meat into prime tenderness for several cycles before triggering the pneumatic gutting and spitting process. Unfortunately, we”re in a hurry, so you and Gabrielle won”t get the full benefit of the torture you bitches so richly deserve. Instead, I”ll let Gabrielle feel the pain of an accelerated program where the cock expands bigger and harder and the shocks are much more intense. Plus, the nipple heaters and clit burner hurt like hell.”

After a few long moments of silence, she pulled down a Lexan shield. Then, with a thundering hiss, Gabrielle was gutted, sluiced clean with high pressure jets, and spitted, all in a matter of seconds. A splatter of blood, body parts, and water explained the shield. A moment later, Gabrielle was draped beautifully on a special cart, held up only by the long spit that entered her torso through her cunt and exited her mouth. Holly wrapped heavy cotton roasting twine in key spots to secure the head, elbows, wrists, knees, and ankles to the skewer. “I prefer cotton twine to the traditional steel skewers or baling wire which I think ruin the look of the golden skin once cooking is finished, Holly told Sheila authoritatively.”

At ten minute intervals, Mary Hess, and then Shelly Richmond joined Gabrielle on the cart. A grunting, whimpering Sheila Mull witnessed the amazingly fast process from the swivel chair Holly had bound her to. Finished with the first three carcasses, Holly rolled Sheila”s chair toward a section of wall. “Sheila, on the other side of this rollup wall is the back of our new glass-fronted rotisserie.” The wall clattered up noisily and revealed the backside of a faux firepit with a heavy steel rotisserie carousel above it. Holly slipped the cart full of the three lifeless carcasses forward and slid Shelly”s skewer onto the receiving clips of one arm of the rotisserie carousel. Holly slightly rotated the spit by pushing on Shelly”s soft ass until it clicked into position and then she closed the locking latches on the skewer mounts. With a whir, the rack rotated up and the next empty set of rotisserie arms were aligned with the cart. Mary and Gabrielle were quickly mounted to the carousel as well.

Holly turned to Sheila, “Once I open the opposite shutters, anyone at this end of the lobby will see today”s dinner entrees cooking.” She smirked at her blackmailer and added dryly, “I hope you noticed that our dinner special is half off on a Chef”s Special.” She gestured toward the three bodies already on the roaster and continued, “We all know that alternate meat like this isn”t really live roasted despite the label of “live roaster”. However, if you carefully examined our Dinner Special advertisement, you”d have seen that today we prepare a real delicacy, although I don”t especially enjoy the pungent wild-meat taste.” Holly took Sheila”s chin in a tight squeeze and added, “It”s one hundred percent, live roasted, unprocessed girl, - Sheila-meat.”

Sheila peed; the spattering of the smelly piss on the tile floor was loud in the quiet kitchen.

Holly picked up a heavy meat mallet and after an experimental swing or two said, “There”s more than one way to tenderize tough meat. Behave or I”ll make this especially painful.”

Holly stuck a needle in Sheila”s jugular and eased a tiny bit of calming sedative into her bloodstream in order to ease the mounting process for the traitorous bitch. Holly had no intention of mitigating the painful process of being roasted alive. She laid a special roasting rod on a stainless steel food preparation table and rolled Sheila atop it. She carefully aligned a one-inch diameter rectal shaft with Sheila”s tiny puckered rear opening. Holly sprayed vegetable shortening on the unyielding steel and then jammed it six inches deep into Sheila”s ass before tightening the skewer mount onto the shaft. With the lower torso rigidly attached to the shaft, she rolled Sheila onto her side. Next, she gathered up a quarter-inch stainless steel cables fed through a slot on the heavy shaft which she tightly wrapped around Sheila”s thighs before ratcheting the cable tight. A similar cable secured Sheila”s ankles to the shaft. The last cable was secured under Sheila”s ample breasts and tightened to attach the upper torso to the shaft.

After studying her helpless prey, Holly rolled the long pig onto her belly and bound her wrists behind her back. Then, Sheila”s wrists were ratcheted all the way up to just below her neck, dislocating her shoulders with discernable pops. The pain penetrated into Sheila”s lightly drugged brain and she whimpered as each wrist was dragged into position up against the thick rotisserie shaft. Lastly, Holly locked Sheila”s head tightly to the shaft.

Sheila came to full attention as something cold misted across her body. “Hmmph!” she cried. A little blood dribbled off her tongue where a skewer held it outside a ringgag locked behind her incisors. Holly didn”t want Sheila swallowing her tongue and dying any earlier than possible.

“Hush, you little baby,” Holly whispered. “You wanted your girls quickly prepared and I”ve done just that. The stuff I just sprayed on you is the same as each of them got; a thick coat of olive oil; it”ll hold a thick coating of spices on your skin and will brown everything nicely in the roasting pit.”

The rotisserie carousel whirred and began to rotate up and over the faux bed of coals. Each of the four pigs slowly rotated on their own skewers at the same time. As each girl passed by, Holly rubbed salt and herbs onto the glistening bodies, including Sheila”s. She made sure that each crevasse of their bodies was coated by the taste-enhancing additives.

“At this point,” Holly explained loudly over the softly whirring machinery, “the room is refrigerated. At six this morning, the lobby shutters will rise, - of course that”s when the gas coals below will ignite and the rotisserie will begin to rotate. This is a true slow cooking process so you”ll last at least three hours before rising temperatures in your inner core shut down your brain activity forever. I just wish you”d be awake when the chef does your final gutting before letting you finish cooking. Most of your blood will remain in your blood vessels, coagulated from the heat of roasting alive, and giving the special “wild game” taste. Goodbye, you cowardly and blackmailing bitch!”

Holly slammed the rotisserie panel shut and left the kitchen. Her next stop was at the hotel incinerator.

Hours later, in her office, Holly contemplated the computer disks, notes, cash, and the laptop on her desk. They were all that remained of the four women spitted and slow roasting over the now glowing coals of the glass-fronted rotisserie. Frankly, Holly should not have been amazed at the extent of the cash Sheila and Gabrielle had with them. It was clear from the cash bonanza that they placed a high value on their own safe escape. Their clothing and flammable gear had already fed the hungry inferno of the hotel incinerator and Holly planned to scatter their weapons, ammo, and cell phones in small, disassembled bits from a boat on the nearby river. She”d rented a small motorized skiff and would discretely drop everything at points between the two Eastlake oil refineries.

The most surprising discovery had been the unencrypted files on Sheila”s laptop computer. In addition to every possible detail about the organization, its membership, and their plans, Holly had made the chilling discovery of the identity of the power broker behind the attacks in Eastlake - the mysterious “Benefactor”. “No wonder Sheila decided to have Gabrielle act as the sole contact with him. He”d mercilessly kill off any possible connection tying him to a conspiracy against slavery. Holy merciful deities! If this is tracked back to me, - I”m way worse off than Sheila. I have to hope he never discovered that Sheila was the true leader of the cell with me as their blackmailed contact in Eastlake.” That sobering discovery had prompted Holly to attempt to end this matter forever.

By then, Holly had already heard the news that two of the escaping terrorists had been turned in by alert truck drivers after a widespread BOLO (Be On the Look Out) broadcast had been sent through law enforcement channels. The media had discovered the BOLO and rebroadcast the information through their public radio and television outlets. Further, the news was ridiculing the women as brainless twits for letting themselves to be led right back to the very truck stop where they initially fled from in Eastlake. Their capture had resulted in a frenzy of speculation about the New Underground Railroad Movement.

A chill went down Holly”s spine at the news. “Who else knew the identities of the escapees from BEACON Team?” She sat sweating in fear. “I have to be sure the last surviving member, Marcelle, is found and accounted for if I want to severe the line of evidence leading back to Sheila and then myself,” Holly told herself fiercely. “The problem is, - why hasn”t her identity been released? And, what about the other three pigs cooking downstairs? Why aren”t the authorities looking for Gabrielle, Mary, and Shelly? Marcelle couldn”t have exposed the two escapees on her team; there simply wasn”t enough time for that. Or, - was if it was the Benefactor that set this whole thing up?”