story_jack

Hi

Here's a story I have been working on. It's not finished, but here's how it currently stands...

If this is the wrong newsgroup to be posting this too, sorry, but could you tell we where would be more appropriate.

Constructive feedback would be great.

Mike

--

JACK --------

'The time, 1996. The place, the good ol' US of A. Well, at least it would have been before. Not no fuckin' more.'

Jack sat on the edge of his bed, diary in hand. He read back what he had just written. Yeah, that was about right. In the year of our lord, Nineteen hundred and Ninety Four, Freddie came back, looking for more. And did he get what he wanted or what? Oh yes. Freddie got what he wanted.

A bell sounded, bringing Jack back to his senses. The work bell. Time to play. As a hero of his had said, "Prime Time Bitch!"

Opening the room's door, he stepped out into the bustling corridor. People pushed passed him, hurrying to return to their workstations. All trying to impress, to gain that all important promotion. A change of uniform, big fuckin' deal. A few more privileges, wow! Jack enjoyed what he did, and he did it well. He allowed him self to be swept away in the sea of people.

Everyone around him had their colour. Tech's had green, Medic's had blue. The coldness of black signalled the Overlords. Best to keep out of their way, never knew what their fucked up minds were thinking. Never knew what they might want you to do. He had red. The colour of blood. At least he didn't need to worry about looking dirty during the day. It weren't going to show on this shirt!

Pushing through the throngs of people, he stepped up to the door. Corridor 666, that had meant something once. Something spiritual. Now it was fear. Fear that, once you entered, it was probably better to come out in a pine box, if you had rank, than alive. But then again, if you had rank, you weren't going to be sent here as a prisoner. Jack was real good at what he did. He swiped the card that was clipped to his uniform, the green light flashed and he stepped through the door.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Jack rammed the nail deep into the thigh of his prisoner to a resounding scream. He laughed. Jack loved to inflict pain and this was the ideal job for him. His prisoner begged. He would have told him anything he wanted right there. How many times he had wanked as a kid or how he made fun of the fat bastard in his class at school. Jack didn't give a shit what he knew though, he just wanted to hurt him.

Picking up the pair of pliers that rested on the table next to him he smiled. The look of sheer terror on the prisoner said it all, and Jack loved it. Grabbing the prisoner's left hand, Jack stretched it out. Jack spoke, "Should have cut your nails. Never know what damage they could do to some bitch. Here let me do it for you!"

The Prisoner, Larry, wet himself for the second time since the interrogation had begun. Images flashed in his mind. His family, his country and his unit. But right now that meant Jackshit. His terror was obvious in his girgled plee, as Jack locked the pliers onto the nail of his forefinger and pulled. Blood oozed from where his nail had been just moments before.

Jack was now beginning to enjoy himself. The interrogation had begun as always with the pointless questions. He knew the kind of answers that he would get. Name, Rank, Number. Over and over this would usher from the prisoners lips. Then the pointless bullshit would be over and he would get down to the good stuff. Jack loved his job.

One by one, each of Larry's nails were ripped from his fingers, falling noiselessly to the ground. Blood covered his hand. Tied to the chair he had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Slowly the pain would overcome him. Jack stuck his hand into a paper bag and pulled out a glass jar with a screw top lid. In the gloom of the room, Larry could not see what it contained.

Jack spoke again. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but, isn't the best way to stop bleeding to rub salt into the wound? Well let's find out shall we?" Unscrewing the lid, Jack began to slowly pour the salt onto the fingers of his prisoner. Larry screamed as the salt made contact with his raw fingers, and, instinctively pulled his hand back. The salt began to fall to the ground.

"Still some fight left in you eh? Well we'll see about that you little shit." With one hand, Jack ripped off the last remaining piece of clothing covering Larry's loins, while with his other hand grabbed a large knife. Larry again began to beg and cry. "Someone has been a busy boy! Maybe you need some diapers, or maybe not." Jack grabbed Larry's cock and with a quick motion sliced it off. Blood gushed forth and everything went black.

"Almost done." remarked Jack as he finished cauterising the wound. Larry would still have been screaming had he not had a ball gag applied tightly. Now the most he could do was whimper.

Time was running out and Jack new it. This little fuck was about to escape from him. But no quite yet. Massaging gel into Larry's blood and sweat matted hair, he began to chuckle to himself. But that would have to wait. The hand had come back into his thoughts. He picked up his hacksaw and positioned it over Larry's wrist. His eyes were so wide, Jack was sure that they would burst. That brought another idea into his mind but there was no time. He began to saw.

The hand fell twitching to the floor. Blood was everywhere. The floor slippery before this interrogation and begun had worsened. Larry had little notion of what was going on, as the pain enveloped him like a coat. Jack stepped back to admire his work. He pulled out fag and lit up. After taking a few drags he spoke again. "Need a light old chap?" He plunged the match into Larry's hair.

Two minutes later a bell sounded and a guard walked in. He untied the prisoner. "The guy who passed the torture bill was a genius. Torture once a week for all the dissidents. They soon come fuckin' round!" Jack remarked. The guard just laughed. As he hauled Larry out of the door Jack spoke again. "Send that bitch of a wife of mine in here. I wana fuck her in the blood!" The guard just laughed again.

What a life! Torturing in the morning. Fucking at lunch and then more torture. Life was easy. He lived in seventh heaven. He undid the zip on his overalls, and the pulled his arms out, letting the top half fall around his waist. His hands were still covered in blood, Larry's blood. He sucked his fingers, revelling in the ecstasy, as the blood made contact with his taste buds.

The door opened. Jess stood, holding herself up high. Jack began to look her over, starting with her feet. Her knee high black leather boots made him feel all tingly inside. He loved her like this. Looking higher, he made contact with the fishnet stockings, a rare commodity these days. They cost him a bit. The short mini skirt, black of course, just above the ends of the stockings. Was she wearing panties? He couldn't tell from where he was looking. Higher. The first bare skin of navel. A little higher and the black lace bra that he had acquired for her, just about covered her breasts. Well it wouldn't soon. A little higher and her face became visible. The shining silver lip studs, three of them, contrasting with the bright red lipstick. Four nose rings, two from which had chains were hanging. The lovely eyes. Blue. The ten or so rings in each ear. More chains hanging. The black hair spilling down around her face, and behind her shoulders. Beauty incarnate.

She spoke, softly, seductively "He said you wanted me Jack. You want to take me right now. Are you horny baby?" The bulge in his overalls answered he question. "Oh yeah, oh yeah! I'm ready for you." Jess began to unclip her bra.

Jack stayed where he was. The blood oozing out from between his fingers and toes. Other peoples blood. It felt good! He was covered in it, his hair matted as it dried, his face a deep red. Jess had left not long after they had fucked. She had other stuff to do. She had rules to follow to. Not as fun as his, but rules were rules.

It's so easy to follow the rules when they suit you. Before they locked him up for not following their rules. Now it was different. He did what came naturally to him, and he was rewarded. What a system. Jack couldn't think of anything better.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@