Mandy’s Mommy

BIG FUCKING DISCLAIMER: Some people thought my tone was a bit dickish in this disclaimer, so please bear in mind that that’s not my intention.

First: this story is EVEN WORSE than its predecessors, although it’s a much shorter and far less descriptive. As usual, expect scat, but this time expect EVEN MORE COLD-BLOODED torture and abuse.

Second, this is a work of FICTION, and I in no way condone ACTUALLY DOING any of these things! The people who made Die Hard aren’t bank robbers in real life, it’s JUST A STORY.

Third, and I really can’t emphasize this enough: while all the tags are accurate, this is primarily a SNUFF story! It features MUTILATION, MURDER, and TRULY HORRIFIC IDEAS ABOUT TORTURING PEOPLE. Please, PLEASE only read on if you’re convinced that only the most DEPRAVED and utterly BRUTAL SEXUAL VIOLENCE will satisfy you!


Kevin locked the basement door, and walked back downstairs. He flicked the wall switch, and the lone, bare, 100-watt bulb dangling from the center of the ceiling came to life, illuminating his handiwork.

It had been a long journey to this point. His highschool girlfriend, Jennifer, had been slow to have children with her husband, forcing Kevin to wait longer than he would have preferred. He had amused himself in the meantime, but he had never lost sight of his plans; indeed, they had only grown more elaborate and well-defined over the last six years.

But now, finally, the daughter had been born. He would have had to drastically change his plans if there had never been a daughter, but he had left little to chance. He had visited their home many times with chemicals and syringes in the dead of night, forcing two miscarriages before he got the child he needed.

The baby girl lay in a crib on the floor, her skin pale and silken-smooth, her hair already almost black. But the child was on display for her mother’s benefit, not his – infants held no interest for him. He turned his attention to Jenny, who was fastened to the wall, her face bruised from the blow that had incapacitated her and allowed him to bring her here.

He looked her over, lamenting the damage done to her by the intervening years. When they had been thirteen, and in love, she had been a goddess – now, she was a housewife. Still fit, still attractive by most standards – but not the sweet Lenore of his memories, not the pale-skinned beauty who had awakened his first stirrings of lust. Her pale skin showed signs of age and strains of childbirth, and her near-black hair had somehow lost the lustre of youth.

Faking her death had been an elaborate and time consuming affair, and he still secretly wondered if he had truly gotten away with it – but it had been three days, and there had been no police. He was finally beginning to relax, to allow his victory to simmer in his mind.

Jenny stirred, squinting her eyes open in the harsh light. The body was an amazing thing – three days of passing into and out of consciousness, and she had only soiled herself once. Pulling a pair of scissors from his pocket, he cut her jeans off, then snipped her stained panties at the side, allowing the small pile of involuntarily expelled shit to begin sliding out onto the floor. Eager to begin now, Kevin pulled them off, carefully keeping the majority of the waste inside, wadded them up, and forced them into Jenny’s open, drool-marred mouth.

She choked and tried to spit them out, but he was quick with the tape, and soon she was securely gagged – and violently gagging, to boot. He slapped her in the face, hard, to wake her up, and waited while she finished vomiting into her own mouth, unable to expel anything, her cheeks bulging.

“Better swallow, Jenny,” he said, relishing each syllable of the command. She had always hated swallowing cum, even when they were children. She screamed at him, muffled by her own vomit and excrement as much as by her wadded, soaked underwear. Eventually, choking on her own fluids, caught between impossibly disgusting horror and painful, spluttering death, he saw her swallow the mess down, vomiting back up a bit with each gulp, until she finally managed to keep it all down. Her breathing was ragged and strained, and her nose had run down to her chin. She struggled a few times against her chains, but Kevin was confident in their installation.

He cut the rest of her clothes free, revealing her disappointing body. Childbirth had been relatively kind, but her tits had still swollen with milk, and her stretch marks were still evident. She finally turned her head to look around, and found the surprise to her left: her husband, chained just as she was, but with a few additional straps for Kevin’s safety and a sturdier leather gag.

The two lovers locked eyes, and Kevin smiled – he had waited years for this moment. As they stretched their wrists against the restraints, trying to hold hands, Kevin brought the scissors up in a smooth arc, slashing cleanly into the burly man’s throat. The aluminum washbasin below him caught most of the blood, but plenty spurted onto the floor as well, looking like nothing less than thick black tar under the yellowish light.
Jenny screamed again and again as she watched him spasm and struggle, and Kevin savored every moment of her despair, watching the hope fade from her eyes as the life faded from her love’s.