The following story is copyright 1995 by the author.
No redistribution allowed.
By possessing this file, you state:
1 - you do not work for the government
2 - it will be used solely for your own personal enterainment



The Zoo, part 1
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The suited man knocked on the bare wood door in the center of a dark 
smelly ally three times, then two more, than three more times. There was 
a pause, then the lock on the door slid open with an audible clack. 
Tentatively, the man opened the door and walked in.

The interior if the building belied its poor exterior. The carpet was a 
dark purple, and the chairs were all real leather. There were several 
plants and an Escher painting. Very tactful.

There was no one else there. He closed the door behind him -- three 
thick deadbolts snapped automatically into place. He noticed the door 
was thick and hard - not actually wood; probably an inch or two of steel 
wrapped with cheap wood. Very strong. Very sound absorbent. Since there 
was no on else there, he sat down on one of the chairs and was surprised 
to find a copy of Playboy on the table next to it. He looked at the 
pictures.

The wait was almost ten minutes, but then the inner door -- just as 
firmly made and locked -- opened and a man stepped into the room, 
closing the door behind him. This man was older, maybe in his mid-
fifties, thin but strong. His fingers were long and delicate, like a 
violinist's. He did nothing to try to conceal his virtual baldness, but 
his soft halo of white hair bespoke of lost elegance. He, like the man 
who had entered, was wearing a grey, conservative business suit.

As the younger man stood up, the older greeted him, extending his hand, 
"Hello, sir. My name is Samual. And you are..?"

"Uh... Mike. But you already know that..."

"Perhaps. Do you have the note!"

"Yes!" said the young man, fishing out a folded-up piece of stationary 
in his jacket pocket. He handed it to Samual. Samual glanced at it, and 
put it in his pocket.

"Mike, before we go inside, I must tell you this: if you elect to come 
in with me, you can never come out again - mentally. You must be ready 
to accept everything I show you. Are you?"

There was an eager look in Mike's eyes as he said, "yes!"

"Then come."

Samual opened the door and led Mike down a long, winding staircase. It 
must have gone down at least three stories. "Here," explained Samual, 
"is what we call the Zoo. Any man in our club can rent one of the twenty 
rooms to be used in torturing or raping a woman. They either pay to have 
their target kidnapped, or they don't, in which case, after they're done 
with the cunt, we get her. Here we are, ground level. You'll see what I 
mean. All these windows are one-way. Don't worry. No-one can see you..."

...

1: Two girls forced to kneel on a platform. Their ankles are attached to 
leather cuffs on the platform, as are their knees, thus keeping them in 
the knelt position, legs stretched wide. Their arms are stretched high 
above them, cuffed to the chains holding the platform up. This forces 
their breasts up. They are completely naked, of course.

The one girl is a tall Italian woman, with long curly hair reaching down 
to her ass. She was mounds for breasts, large but with small dark 
nipples. Her skin is darker than the other girl's, whose is very white. 
This bitch has blond hair, as long as the others but straight. Her 
breasts are smaller, but her nipples really stick out, begging for 
attention.

"The Italian," explains Samual, "is Amy. The other is Irene. Both worked 
as bank-tellers at a local bank before we took them. They have been here 
for only one week. This is the second day they've been hanging like 
that. Karl, who doesn't like his bank, decided to take them... there he 
is now. My, what a whip! spiked leather. This is the girls first 
beating. Let's turn the volume on and listen..."

"what what..." babbled Amy. "no, please, no, who are you? don't hurt 
me..." babbled Irene. it was obvious both were terrified. Carl reached 
down and pinched one of Irene’s nipples. Then he reached up and stroked 
the hair out of her face. "So soft..." he muttered. One at a time, he 
lifted up both girls hair and knotted it into the chains. the girls were 
still babbling, begging him not to hurt them.

Karl said," I would never hurt you, Irene..." then suddenly flailed her 
back hard with the whip. As the thing broke her soft flesh, leaving a 
stripe of blood, Irene howled in agony.

"I would never hurt you, Amy..." and he whipped her to. He whipped them, 
each one in turn. The whip drew blood from the kidnapped cunts; he 
applied it to their pert asses, adding stroke after stroke. He was a 
musician. The bitches' howls blended together. Amy's was lower but 
faster than Irene’s. he mixed the two sounds together freely, eliciting 
the music with new stroked of the whip. This continued for several 
minutes until both girls backsides were raw and bloody, as were their 
asses. Then Karl put down his whip and began molesting the four tits in 
front of him, as his toys sobbed and wept...