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Introduction:

The prisoner and her friend get trapped by friends ex

Eddie heard Christine’s screams fill the basement like a chorus of banshees over the howling roar of the big chainsaw, her wild-eyed, terror-driven fear through the blue haze of smoke that poured from the saw. The chain sprayed oil on her bare abdomen, between her bare breasts, up her neck, into her open, screaming mouth and eyes. Her terror was palpable, alive; it coursed through Eddie like a heroin rush.
Swinging away from her so suddenly the tip of the whirring chain grazed her shoulder as she lunged up and away in a futile effort to break free from the police-issue handcuffs he’d used to manacle her to the overhead pipe. She shrieked from the sudden pain as he spun to face Sandy, Christine’s best friend, who was hung from a beam opposite her, just five feet away.
Sandy’s head hung dejectedly, terrorized for too long to have spirit to fight as Christine did, looking at him with eyes wide with fear, body rigid with fright as he passed the tip of the saw down slowly before her eyes, chain oil spraying her face, only an inch from the whirling cutting edges, gagging on the smoke that belched from the saw toward her.
She froze as he slowly moved the bar of the saw down her body, oil spattering her neck, the cleavage between her full breasts; down her belly that suddenly turned itself to water as she pissed herself, shitting involuntarily as the breeze from the big logger’s saw’s oil splash moved below her navel.
Eddie knelt on the floor in front of her. She could feel the hot oil spray on her parted labia, which Eddie had shaved bare the day before; when she’d come with Christine to get her things from his house after she’d left him and told him to get lost.

It was when she picked up several small boxes and turned to head toward the stairs Eddie hit her from behind with something heavy, knocking her down the stairs, unconscious. As Christine ran up from the basement to see what the crash was, he was behind the door waiting, and with a hard shove, knocked her backward down the stairs to the cold concrete of the basement.
When she came to hours later, she was naked, tied to Eddie’s bed. She didn’t require a doctor to tell her she’d been raped repeatedly, from the raw sensation in her crotch.
She’d been out about five hours and it was getting dark outside, though no one knew where to look for her and Sandy. She was the one who’d convinced Sandy to get out of the three year relationship and come share her new apartment... She hadn’t even opened all her things yet, her phone wasn’t getting hooked up ‘til next week, her mail wasn’t redirected.
Sandy had lived with Eddie in a big old house formerly belonging to his uncle. It was set way back from the road, a mile outside the town limits, with no neighbors for half that distance. Located right on the county line, Eddie paid a little land tax to both counties, each assuming the other collected for the house and barn. He had electricity from a metered pole near the road, phone wires that ran the length of the long drive-way. For all the world might notice the house, Eddie mightn’t exist at all.
The rooms at the front were barred up long ago, he used a few rooms on the main floor, a couple on the second and the basement. Someone would have to be looking for her big green Ford wagon to notice it sitting in the shadow of the house.

It wasn’t ‘til Eddie got bored raping her, shaved her crotch, raped her again, and dragged her to the basement she knew Sandy was still alive. As she watched now, Eddie knelt between Sandy’s wide-spread thighs and so rapidly she couldn’t grasp the reality for a moment, saw him brush the saw’s cutter bar between the cheeks of Sandy’s butt She heard her friend’s rising cry of terror an instant before he tilted the saw, pointing the tip of the cutter bar upward, oil splattering her friend’s shaved, raw mons.
With a deliberate, solid thrust, Eddie rammed the tip of the saw upward between Sandy’s labia, and her shattered scream split the smoky air in the basement as it tore flesh, muscle and bone from her crotch, as he pushed it into her. The machine clawed it’s way inward, throwing back shredded fragments of Sandy’s vagina, sinew, ligament, soft mucous membrane, bone chips in a shower of bloody gore and the viscera from her internal organs as the saw cut deep inside her abdominal cavity.
The saw’s sound deepened as it tore it’s way deeper inside her friend, inch by inch. Sandy’s head was thrown back, mouth open, her scream too intense to hear. The first several inches of the cutter penetrated, violating Sandy. It had torn her vagina and fallopian tubes out, and shredded her uterus to minced meat. As Eddie guided the big saw in, it tore into intestines, bladder, bowel, spat chunks of her pelvic bone it bit off out through the grotesque, large gash-opening between Sandy’s legs onto the floor, over Eddie’s jeans, hands, arms and saw - the two-foot long cutter bar was half-way in.
Sandy’s head rolled back as she went into shock, passing out as the saw cut through internal organs, severed her intestines in a shower of shit, gastric acid and semi-digested food, plunging through her stomach wall, into her upper abdomen, tearing her diaphragm, puncturing a lung as the body of the saw brought up against Sandy’s spread thighs. Blood streamed out with the fragments of her friend’s insides as the saw nicked or cut into veins and arteries.
Blood frothed from Sandy’s mouth. Her eyes opened wide one last time, glazed and wild, before her head fell forward. She died from shock, blood loss from a heart stilled as her femoral artery was cut by the saw and her pumping blood sprayed over Eddie, Christine and the whole room, which was heavily clouded with the smoke of the saw.
Christine wasn’t sure if it was the choking smoke or spattering from head to foot with bits of Sandy that made her stomach roll as she vomited violently, most of it splashing on Eddie’s back and the floor at his feet. As he gave the saw one final shove up into his ex-girlfriend, it stalled, her viscera tangled in it’s workings and choking the saw, causing it to stall... Eddie stood up, leaving the saw jammed in her body like macabre pop art. As he stood, he became aware of the puke down Christine’s abdomen, the floor, his jacket.

“Didn’t like the show?” he taunted her, “it’s okay, I’d never do that to you Chris. Come on, let’s clean you up, have some dinner before we go to bed and I fuck your brains out again.” Christine wanted to say something, but her throat was closed and burning from the smoke, acid bile, being sick and fear of what awaited her.
Eddie dragged her legs from the manacles, fastening them together so she couldn’t run, then undid the handcuffs, letting her arms down, shackling them behind her instead. He held her arm, steering her wobbly legs upstairs, to the bathroom. “I could really go for you right now if you didn’t smell like barf!” he said, “ bend over the side of the tub...” He pushed her forward so she was holding the far side of the tub with slippery hands. “Well, it’s a shame to waste that chain oil all over your cunt Chris, maybe I will bang you now.”
He dropped his jeans and plunged into her already rape-ravaged vagina, lubricated by chainsaw oil. He pounded her for a couple of minutes and pulled out, dragged his stinking jacket off, threw it in the corner, got something Christine couldn’t see from the cabinet on the wall and came back. He was moving, doing something behind her, though she didn’t have any idea what ‘til he thumped the jar of Vaseline down on the side of the tub just before he grasped her hips, pressing his erection to her virgin anus, then suddenly, violently ramming himself into her butt.
It wasn’t that he was larger than average, but the fact that Christine had never in her twenty-five years been fucked in the ass. Now she screamed, a drawn-out howl of pain as Eddie pounded her bum repeatedly, the gooey petroleum jelly giving her neither relief or lessening the burning pain as he buggered her viciously. After what felt like an hour he grunted and she felt him press hard as he came in her butt. She’d cried as quietly as possible while he raped her.

Now he pulled her upright and turned the bathtub taps ‘til the water poured into the tub. Still manacled, he sat her in the old tub as the water rose, shampooing her hair clean of blood, flesh and dirt, rinsed it and threw some bubble bath in the water ‘til it reached the level where it floated her breasts in the suds. He turned off the water, washed her face and breasts, pouring warm water on her shoulders and upper back, reached underwater to grope her crotch, finally leaving her in the tub to finish washing herself, her left hand cuffed to the chain that joined the shackles binding her feet.
“I’ll go fix something to eat,” he said, then stopped, “need to rinse your mouth?” She nodded. He ran water from the sink and held it to her lips, “gargle it, rinse and spit it on that old towel,” he commanded, and she did, the second sip got some moisture to her throat, the final one cleared her so she could scarcely taste the sourness. “Don’t even try to get up, let alone get away,” he cautioned. “I don’t like guns, but I’ll shoot you if I have to.”
He disappeared downstairs and she was left to clean herself. She felt dirty and violated, used and tainted; she was sure the feeling would never go away. She heard the noise of the saw in the basement, momentarily tried to get out of the tub, slipped and almost drowned herself. As the waster was getting cold, Eddie returned. Looking at the pool of water, he commented, “I told you not to try and climb out. What’s wrong, need to crap?” She nodded. He lifted her from the water and sat her on the toilet until she peed, expelling Vaseline and come from her bloody-raw anus. He pulled her up, wiped her rear and flushed.
Re-cuffing her conventionally, he led her downstairs after he dried her off. She was still naked and feeling the chill in the old house. In the small dining room by the kitchen he sat her at the table. He went in the kitchen and returned with juice, poured some for himself in a glass and hers in a tin cup which she held between her hands and drank deeply. “Dinner will be ready in a minute,” he said flatly. “Something I have to ask... it was you who got the idea of leaving me in her head wasn’t it? Christine hesitated as her mind raced. Eddie repeated the question louder. Christine nodded slowly, looking down. “Now I don’t have her anymore, so you’re going to take her place... oh not every way, not going out to work earning money for us, not driving me places, or doing things, going on dates, dancing, out for dinner, but you’ll be here.
“Here to suck, fuck, or keep me warm at night, to put wood on the fire in winter, sweep the floor and serve me. You’ll take her place that way. You look better anyway, you’re a better fuck, so you’d better suck cock good or I’ll knock your damn teeth out!”
He went to the kitchen, returning with two plates, instant mashed potatoes, tinned vegetables and fried meat, cut into bite-sized pieces and some gravy and a jug of water. “Gravy?” She nodded yes. He poured it on sparingly and gave her water in her cup.
When she’d eaten, he removed the dishes, washed them in the sink, the door to the kitchen left open. When he’d cleaned up, he took her arm, guided her to the hallway and switched off the light. Leading her upstairs to his room he cuffed her to the bedpost by one hand and one foot, parted her thighs with his hands before he knelt and went down on her. In spite of herself, her inner resistance wasn’t powerful enough to overcome her own body’s responses and she came, crying out, bucking and twitching. He moved up, fucked her ‘til she climaxed again and he came in warm torrents she felt inside her.

As he turned off the light, he said, “get used to this - every day and night, as long as I keep you.”
She tried to shift to take some strain off her manacled arm and leg, as he said quietly, “she tasted good didn’t she? I cut up her right tit. I cut it off, skinned and de-veined it, before I fried it and we ate her tit! We’re fucking cannibals now Chris! Tomorrow for breakfast you’re going to eat more of her, because she’s fresh meat in the freezer for 3 or 4 months, maybe longer. Her bones will be in every corner of the county by Christmas...
G’night Chris... don’t do anything to piss me off, will you?” Christine shivered under the blanket and fell asleep just before dawn, exhaustion pulling her into a rest she feared.
“Come on woman, up and at it!” Eddie called as he undid the cuff from the bedpost, clicking it on her right wrist again, did the same with the leg restraints. He pulled her to her feet as he propelled her to the bathroom and the toilet. “Do it,” he said, “there’s work to be done, and you’re helping.” When she was done, he wiped her awkwardly, pulled her to her feet and led her to the kitchen. He made toast and coffee, with a fried egg on each plate. “Eat,” he grunted as he shoveled the food into his mouth, belched and got more coffee. As soon as he’d done, he pulled Christine to her feet and pointed at the stairs to the basement.
She balked. “We’re sweeping and mopping and using the hose to clean up the bits of filth left behind from my last damn lazy whore!” he shouted at her. “If you don’t want to join her, you help me with the cleanup!”
Christine stepped carefully down the wooden steps in her bare feet and shuddered as she saw the fragments of bone, skin, flesh, pooled, dried and drying blood among the mess of the basement floor. Eddie thrust a broom in her hands and pushed her onto the killing floor. She plowed the mess into a pile that Eddie shoveled up and dumped through a gap in the brick wall Christine hadn’t noticed yesterday. She swept and pushed the residue of her friend’s body together with the broom; Eddie shoveled it through the hole ‘til the floor was clear of solid materiel.
Then Eddie took the hose in the corner, screwed it on an overhead spigot and turned the rusty tap on. The hose gurgled and he put his fingertip over the end of the hose, making it spray along the floor ‘til the pools washed into the seams of the broken concrete, the dried patches began to dissolve and washed down through cracks into the ground beneath the house. Christine noticed Eddie spraying the wood near where the two girls were manacled when he’d killed Sandy.
Just a bit to one side was the old fuse box, it’s cover open and as she swept the pools of water into the cracks that served as floor drains, she faked slipping and fell against Eddie, causing him to spray water into the fuse box. There was a flash and sparks and the sound of Eddie cursing as he fell back on top of her.
“Thundering fuck!” shouted Eddie, “you stupid cunt, what are you trying to do? Electrocute both of us? Good thing that’s only the one for the garage and not the house or the water down here’d have grounded and shocked the life out of us, barefoot on a wet floor. Get the mop and try to dry it up. On the other hand, let it dry itself.” He turned off the water, disconnected the hose, gave her a shove toward the stairs as he took a last look and followed her.
Christine thought she’d rather be electrocuted than trapped as Eddie’s slave for years. She dreaded the next time he raped her butt, or decided he wanted oral sex. He wasn’t a clean person. He always reeked of sweaty sourness. His clothes were dirty, his hair was greasy and shaggy. All of a sudden, a plan began to form in her mind.

As they sat at the kitchen table having coffee and a donut from the bag she and Sandy brought to snack on while removing Sandy’s stuff... was it only thirty-six hours? Yes, here one afternoon, trapped and raped while Sandy hung in the basement, then last night. The clock on the stove said it was ten in the morning.
“Where’s the washing machine or laundry tub?” she asked him. Eddie looked up, questioningly, surprised. “Obviously whatever laundry Sandy did at the laundry in town, she didn’t clean up your stuff,” she said matter-of-factly. “I guess if there was a washer, she’d have washed it here.” he shook his head. “Is there a laundry tub, maybe a scrub board? Those jeans of yours could crawl away by their self, and your shirt isn’t any better. We could take the tub up to the bathroom and I’ll wash your clothes while you have a bath. You’re stronger, so I’ll wring out as much water as I can, then you get the rest... If we hang them in the hallway, they’ll be dry by tomorrow... I’m sure you got something else to wear ‘til then...” she said hopefully.
He went into the hall, opened a door and brought back a tub and scrub board. When they got to the bathroom she was running water in a jug, pouring it in the wash tub as he stripped off his clothes and tossed them to her to wash, putting his wallet and the ring of keys on the side of the sink. He shaved as the water ran in the bath, made her sit on the side of the tub and shaved her crotch again. As she began soaping his shirt, scrubbing it, he seemed satisfied and got in the bath water. Christine put his socks and underwear in the sink to soak before washing and rinsed his shirt with another couple of jugs of water and wrung it.
She took the soap and jug, dipped it in the bath water and wet his hair, soaped and scrubbed it; after the third try it lathered. She rinsed it with clean water and washed his upper back. She froze momentarily as his wet hand touched her bare breasts and slid between her legs. “You’re a lot better than Sandy,” he said gruffly, “she never did any of this.”
“Well, I guess that’s why you were angry at her...” she said as she scrubbed his jeans, which had been soaking in the washtub. She felt the handcuff key as it slid from the pocket to the bottom of the tub and she palmed it as she bent and scrubbed, hiding it in her hair for the moment. After scrubbing his socks and underwear, she dragged the wash tub to the toilet and dumped the soapy water, refilling it part-way with fresh water to rinse the clothes. “That’s more like it,” she said, “jeans should be blue, not grey and shorts should be white, not yellow.” she wrung the stuff out and when he climbed out of the tub, he gave it another twist. She hung it over the stair railing when they left the bathroom. In his bedroom, he pulled on a pair of old dress pants and a sweater, wool socks and stuffed his wallet and key ring in the pants pocket.
“Let’s have dinner,” she suggested. He nodded, and when he gave her the dish of meat chunks to cook, she almost gagged. Sandy’s nipple was still attached to one piece. She held her breath as she fried it and served him, eating only bread, cheese and coffee herself, while he ate the breast-meat with gusto.
When she washed the dishes, he took her wrist. “Come on,” he said, “I got to go out for a few minutes. He walked her to the bedroom and manacled her foot to the leg-iron when he stopped and went out to the hall to check his pants. Christine set the key under the edge of the mattress where she’d be able to reach it with her free hand. Eddie came back, “did you see a small key, like a cash-box key when you washed my pants?” She shook her head no. “You sure?”
“No, nothing like that, just bits of paper an’ stuff that was stuck to them,” she lied.
“Fuck!” you dumped the wash-water down the toilet too,” he cursed, “oh well, I’ll send away for another set. Lie down and rest ‘til I get back. He looked toward the handcuff on the headboard and said, “if the key was in them pockets, it’s gone out under the yard now. I’ll get more after the weekend. If I lock your arm on now, you’d be stuck for a few days.” He laughed and tested the leg shackle. “Oh well, at least I got that one on my key ring...”
When he returned, about an hour later, he released her to use the washroom and he stood outside the door. When she came out, he took her to the bedroom and fastened the leg manacle to her and dropped his clothes at the foot of the bed.
“Just as well you have both hands free,” he said with a leer, “I’m going to let you suck my cock since I’m nice and clean.” he laughed coarsely, “on your knees Chris!”
“Slow down lover-boy,” she said gently, “I’ll do a better job if you let me get in the mood first. She stretched upward, kissed his chest, neck and face, her hand gliding over his stiffening penis. Eddie moaned as she ran the tip of her tongue down his front from his throat to his crotch and kissed the tip of his erection wet for an instant. He was almost begging as she licked back up to his neck, her hands holding his, pushing his right arm behind his head; suddenly lunging across, grasping his left arm, clamped the handcuff to his wrist as she started to lick down again... “don’t worry, I found the key after... you dropped it on the bathroom floor when you took off your jeans... relax and enjoy it.”
She lowered her head to his crotch, felt his right hand grasp her hair as she ran her tongue along his length, heard him gasp as she took the head in her lips, his hand letting go as she made a downward suck on his hard flesh. He was grasping the bed sheets tightly with his hand as she moved to his left side, driving her head down for her mouth to engulf about half his length, tickled the head with her tongue. When he was blissfully unsuspecting, she bit him, hard. Her perfect front teeth and incisors closed suddenly with all the power in her jaw muscles, teeth grinding as she bit. Eddie was too shocked to react for the moment it took her to tear through the tender skin, muscle, blood-engorged vessels and urethra of his penis, severing the top half from his cock totally.

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