Amber did it for Janetta >:)

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She shook her black hair from its ponytail and it shined as it bounced against the leather spiked collar wrapped tightly around her neck. She pulled her black satchel from the passenger seat and locked and closed the door to her Blazer. Peeking over the house, her evening’s destiny, she sneaked a peek at the red moon high in the sky. It was already 9 p.m. and she was late, but she’d been told he’d be here., and here she was. There were no other cars in the driveway.

“Right address,” she spoke in a soft, yet confident voice as she compared the “2245” on the paper to the old, rusted numbers on the house. Removing the silver spiked rings from her left hand and replacing them on her right, she slid a set of brilliant brass knuckles )made especially for lefties). She pushed her finger to the doorbell. *booonnnnnng* She tapped her boot to the music inside the house. It was turned down. The door opened. Her eyes widened to the brow.

A very curious face crazed into a scowling, painful expression as the grinning girl cracked her knuckles to the man’s face. Quickly, she snapped her knee and upper-thigh upward into the man’s crotch, grabbing his shoulders as she followed through, thrusting her very powerful (and muscular, this girl was a thick beauty!!) thigh upward between his legs. He fell backward. She felt the warm, floppy sack of nuts squish over her stocking, and almost crackle as he buckled and began to cough.

She looked at the pathetic whore sprawled out on the ground whimpering.. How dare he even do what he did? Didn’t he know that Janetta was the most beautiful girl he could ever even think about jerking off to? Ugh, what a piece of shit. If only she were a lesbian, Amber would have tongue fucked that juicy wet cunt. With another grunt, she whipped her sharp-toed spike-heeled boot to his crotch again. He wore only cotton boxers, and was still crying on the floor with a very bloody broken nose when he jerked with the second powerful kick. Mm, she loved the agony on his face. He was helpless and was probably woken up by the doorbell. She walked around the dizzy and stunned man. A weeping, contorted body coughing on the floor, and delivered a final kick to his right temple. He lost consciousness.

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His eyes fluttered and his nose ached. Snapping his eyes open, he looked around for the short pale-skinned girl with the piercing. He hadn’t seen much else of her before he saw her fist flying to his face. He was still in his own house, thank goodness… in his own bedroom. He tried to shake his headache from his forehead as his eyes began to focus. He began to realize his situation. Panicked, he tried to get up, but he was totally immobilized. He attempted to jerk every limb from its binds, straining and yanking and ripping his body to move only a few centimeters. He could move only his jaw and fingers! No! He screamed loudly for help, or so he thought. His yelp barely cracked through his parched throat. He couldn’t turn his head to see why his hands were spread and bound to a hard, rugged feeling surface at each wrist. Couldn’t look down to see why the front of his thighs ached. He wiggled his toes, and felt a sensation on his lower buttocks. A few more wiggles and he found that his toes were touching his ass! His ankles were somehow bound to the back of his thighs, and he could feel he was naked. His attempts at screaming didn’t cease as he tried desperately to move his head from whatever kept it in its place. He knew he was bound to the bars at the head of his bed, but his knees weren’t touching the mattress below them. He swallowed hard and had trouble shifting even his adam’s apple. His neck, it was tied, too! “Oh, God!” he thought, “I must be fucking tied to my bed!!” He began to weep, thinking of why this happened to him and who would be the one to find him like this. There were no lights coming through the window and he hurt so badly, he was unsure if anyone would ever see him alive again.

Just then, the door swung open, and there she stood, holding a toolbox. “Ah, we’re awake!”

“you fat fucking bitch! Let me out of this now, and JUST maybe I won’t STRANGLE you!” He knew he’d fuck the hell out of her if he only saw her in a club or under normal circumstances. Her smirk simply seared through him.

The girl only laughed. “Fuck you, pig. How DARE you talk to me like that?” She walked toward him, and stuck a hand out. He struggled against his bindings with no luck. She grabbed his nuts, clutched them tightly and yanked down on them. He grunted a small whimper. “You SURE have balls, boy. At the moment…” She ended her sentence and pushed her face into his. He could only see the black paint around her eyes, yet he could feel her wide grin against his own lips. She smacked them roughly and opened the toolbox.

“let me go! You don’t know who the fuck you’re FUCKING WITH!”

“Oh yes I do, you piece of woman-beating dog shit! Janetta told me all about it. You cheating bastard! She had a right to slap you, you know.”

“I.. is that what all this is about?” he said with a frighten snivel to his lip. “God, look I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit her. I mean –“

“HIT her?!” She pulled a large black stick from a bag sitting on the bed and, clutching it tightly, swung it brutally to his side. The large bedroom echoed with the crackle of his bones against the wood and he screamed like a girl. Amber simply grinned. “Now, James… we simply MUST do something to assure me, you and all of the girls on this earth that you will not be able to shove that tiny little thing into them, or do anymore pathetic things to let women down with it. Surely, it will be a plus for womankind,” she said with a chuckle.

She looked between the bruised, already defeated man’s legs, and his cock and balls swung from where she’d hit him in the ribs. Totally suspended from any flat surface, dried blood still stained his face, and she pushed hers to it again, licking around his lips and nose, cleaning the blood from his cheeks and jaw. She forced her tongue into his mouth, sucking and licking at his tongue and lips. She smelled sweet, he noticed, and her hands were grabbing at his balls. He felt her fingers wrap around his cock. “Enjoy it,” she whispered into his face. “Enjoy it,” she repeated, over and over, she said it with more and more sensuality in her voice. He could feel his flaccid cock harden in her tight grip. She moved her hand up and down on it, moving her thumb over the now-bulging veins from his shaft. He hated this… he wanted it, but he’d rather die. God, how he wished for a glass of water. His lips cracked from thirst.

She shoved her tits into his face and whispered filthy things into his ear. About how her tight sweet cunt would gladly accept his cock into its juicy walls. About how she’d love to feel his cock jamming deep into her stomach. She jerked her hand faster, with more power and vigor. She reached down with her other hand and grabbed his balls. He could feel them swelling with anticipation, and he loathed this girl.

”Oh… oh shit…” he thought. “I’m… gonna fucking cum!” he said out loud into her full breasts, popping out from the lace lining the top of her corset. He felt her jerk back suddenly, taking his cock with her.

She looked down, and having practiced this before, it only took a split second for her to tighten the very thin wire just beneath the head of his penis, and twist it together tightly, usign all the force her forearms could handle. It immediately turned purple and his scream was the loudest yet!

“thought you were going to cum, you pathetic girl?” she spoke into his neck as she bit it. He could only squint his eyes and cry miserably in pain. She was already twisting another wire around the base of his cock to ensure a hardon until she was finished. And she wasn’t finished just yet.

“You know, you really don’t deserve any pussy ever again…” she said grinning. She kneeled on the bed and leaned back to look at the site before her. A man, his spread arms bound to the bed, his legs bent backwards and tied with leather belts so that his calves met the backs of his thighs, and his neck and forehead bound with another plain leather belt to the fixture she’d attatched to the wall minutes before he woke. She wouldn’t want him to see the bowl under his nuts. It would ruin the surprise.

She didn’t want to ruin his surprise.

Between the wires was a very purple, veiny bulge of flesh, and hanging below them were two very sore balls. She reached over the bed and pulled the black satchel from the side of the bed. She wanted to get started; it would be morning soon. She withdrew a rather large butcher knife, and held it up so that he could see. He continued screaming and crying, but upon seeing the knife, he grew hysterical. “PLEASE! Oh GOD PLEASE don’t cut it off!!”

Cut it off? It had never even occurred to her.

“You know what you are?” He cried and screamed. “You’re so fucking pitiful! Stop crying! You’re a piece of SHIT MALE!” She began to punch him with her free hand, and continued screaming at him. Shouting, she clutched his still hard, very purple cock, with wires wrapped around it simply for the torture value. She was rabid. Her eyes were wild with anger, and a grin tore across her face. He watched her intently, suddenly becoming silent. His jaw dropped as she yanked the belt down so that he could only face downward. He recognized his chest, stomach and bedspread… and a hand wrapped around a very violet fat piece of flesh. It was his cock! Upon realizing this, he saw a blur of shiny silver whiz past his right hip, and felt a thunderous pain shattering a flash of pain through every point of his body.

He could only close his eyes, but when he felt a sawing motion on his body, sharp metal teeth against his flesh, he opened them wide. He regained his vision just in time to see the last skin that held his cock to his body cut from his pad of pubic hair. Blood poured from his midsection, and Amber knew she’d made a mistake. Quickly, she grabbed the surrounding skin, and needle, threaded in fishing line, from the satchel. She was frantic, but she managed to jam the needle into one side of the skin, pull it tight, and jamm in and out of the other side’s skin. She criss-crossed as she sewed frantically, and pulled the flesh tight.

“oooh, shit,” she said to herself. She knew she shouldn’t have done this, and she almost began to cry simply from hearing the man’s whimpers of pain. He still bled through the very crude stitching.

“God… oh please at least...” he cried. His throat was very dry and felt as if it might stick and close his air valves from the mucus he brought from his lungs in attempts to scream. Eerily calm, he splintered a sentence. “Ahh, fuck.. please, get me something to drink!”

And the man’s face is frozen, fixed on looking downward.

Downward at his bloody cockless body. Downward, at the metal bowl filled with his blood, and a bloody, but still surprisingly hard cock, bobbing in the blood. He tried to faint… anything to erase this image from his mind. He was very sorry about what he’d done to Janetta and with her sister.

Amber almost had pity on this huge piece of maggot-shit. She grinned and threw her leg over his left shoulder, yanking his face toward the hood of her labia.

“Open your mouth.”

He did.

Warm spiraling sensations filled the inside of her cunt, and tinkled out onto the man’s chapped lips. Anything, anything for his mouth. For his throat. Her strong urine was hot as it dribbled down his tongue. It tasted like a sort of odd tea, and splashed around his jaw, chest, and cockless middle.

Finally, he passed out again as the frantic pale girl dressed in black applied pressure to the ruggedly sewed crotch. With the bleeding under control, Amber surprised herself. And she still had an hour before the sun came up to tell on her. She shook the man, slapping his still-wet jaw. He still hung from his bindings, whimpering in his sleep. Finally, she flicked her finger to the sensitive gash in his middle, and he jerked to consciousness.

“Now for what I came for…”

She grabbed his balls. “Watch closely, now.” Pulling them downward, she moved the knife to them. “This is for Janetta… and after this, you’ll probably die.”

“Please… God please, woman you CAN’T be serious!”

He had to look. He had to watch. She jammed the knife into the middle of his sack. Still holding it, pulling it tight from his body, she continued to jam the blade into his scrotum, until the repeated knifing finally severed his scrotum from his body. She attempted to yank the few strands of tubing from his scrotum, but it wouldn’t come from his body. Now, the man only cried. Wihmpered as he could do nothing but watch as the stranger mauled his body parts. He felt sorry for being a man. He wanted to live. He wanted to be free from whatever it was that got him into this trouble. In fact, it had been the driving force behind almost every bit of trouble he’d gotten himself into. “God,” he managed. “please… do away with it. Just take it off. Both of them. Oh.” He was dizzy and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“NOT yet!” She slapped his face until his eyes opened. “One last thing…”

Finally, she sawed through the last bits of flesh, and his testicles fell off. She knew he was dying, but she sewed him anyway. After he died, knowing the camera was still running, she did silly little things her demented mind had always wanted to do. She slapped him with his own cock. And drew an arrow down his stomach pointing to the gap between her legs in his own blood. She knocked his teeth out and giggled girlishly as she pretended to suck the severed cock.

She cut his left hand from the bed at the wrist, and his body swung over, his legs opened and his asshole exposed. Knife still in hand, she cut open his anus, and shoved his balls and cock into it.

She grinned. She almost vomited. Almost. I love you, Janetta.