Shredder - part II - Sex Stories

Shredder - part II

... Sandy’s clothes, put on the best of it, threw a blanket over Eddie as he lay on the bed, the couple of headache pills woefully inadequate for his throbbing crotch. “See you later Eddie. Don’t go anywhere.” Her laughter echoed in the hallway as she left the house. Two days later Christine returned, came into the room with the second pair of handcuffs Eddie used to secure Sandy, fastening his left and right hands together before she unfastened the one attached to the bed, pulled him sitting and undid the leg shackle that was fastened to the bed and cuffed it to his free leg. She carefully pulled the towel off his crotch, glanced at the dried-blood black of his swollen penis stump, yanked him to his feet, spinning him to face away from her as she pushed him to the bathroom. He started to turn back, found himself looking into a snub-nosed 38 caliber handgun. “Don’t piss me off Eddie,” she muttered, “I don’t leave loose ends like you did amateur... I don’t take chances on leaving trails or storytellers either.” Eddie used the toilet sitting down, wincing as he pissed, wiped his ass awkwardly when Christine made no move to help, stood up as she ordered him to the stairs. When he tried to turn and reach toward her, she kicked him in the face, knocking him down half the stairs to land with his head striking the post at the bottom. “Still full of yourself, huh?” she said, “lucky I grew up on a farm out west. We learned to do the damndest things that come in useful. She threw a ...

... loop of strong nylon cord around his neck and pulled him up from behind, shoved him through to the kitchen and sat him down. The food was on his plate. “Here’s some of Sandy’s ass on a bun,” she identified his meal, the coffee in a plastic mug lukewarm. As soon as he’d eaten, she grabbed the loop, led him out onto the back step. It was raining, a cold, bone-chilling drizzle. “We’re going to the stable,” she announced; “yeah, I replaced the fuses, it works now...” Inside the door, she released the cord a moment and when he twisted around, the barrel of the 38 was an inch from his nose. “Going in the front, it tears the bottom off your grey shit and goes on out the back from this distance,” she said, “these are hollow-point magnums with the tips cross-cut to spread open when they hit... Illegal as hell, like dum-dums, but fuck the mess they make! A cop in a little town in Ohio got his head blown to fuck with one of these when he came in on a ‘crucial evidence’ scene that would have sent me away for a lethal injection, so I had to make it look like he was just one more victim. Stand there back on,” she waved the gun, motioning to the side of a stall that was cut down by a couple of planks. Eddie remembered it when his uncle leaned him on it to beat him as a kid. He remembered that same uncle was buried behind this building under the shit pile. Christine had his hands secured with a rope hooked to the cuffs, tied to a post, pulling him into position to whip him. He gave a sigh of ...