I found Charlie waiting for a cab outside the strip club where she danced. It was two fifteen in the morning. The parking lot was empty. The club had closed at two. I had a scanner
in my car and heard the cab company dispatcher’s conversation with the driver. Charlie’s cab wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes, but I was only five minutes away from the club.
Pulling over, I removed the magnetic cabby sign from the trunk and attached it to the roof of my rental car.
Pulling into the club’s parking lot, Charlie, thinking I was an actual cab driver, hopped in, closing the door behind her. She gave me her address, and I casually replied, “That
would be a problem. You see, I have a different agenda.”
The surprise on Charlie’s face was priceless as I raised the dart gun and fired a tranquilizer dart into the side of her neck. She tried to open the car door but collapsed unconscious
across the back seat before her fingers reached the handle.
...
Smiling behind my distinctive face-concealing mask as Charlie slowly regained consciousness, I switched on the cameras and picked up that ominous-looking cattle prod. With an unwilling,
abducted victim waking up in uncomfortable bondage, a prominently displayed torture instrument always helps to set the proper mood. So, after stripping Charlie of everything but her
stockings and high heels, I’d secured her to the latest torture implement I’d recently acquired, one that was obscenely uncomfortable.
At first, I don’t think Charlie noticed me, but as the tranquilizer quickly wore off, that changed. Her awkward, uncomfortable bondage and the sight of that ominous cattle prod I was
holding transformed her look of confusion into something more expected, a delightful mix of fear and terror. I could feel her eyes following me as I walked over to the wall-mounted switch
and pushed the handle down to its first notch, activating the torture stand’s small but powerful winch. The winch slowly tightened the rope passing between Charlie’s upper thighs, its
mounting tension against her crotch forcing the tall heels of her shoes to lift off the floor before the winch shut off.
“Comfy?”
A brief look of recognition appeared on Charlie’s face, “Actually, Ghost, it wasn’t. Truthfully, it was quite painful.”
“So, you know who I am.”
“Yes, my last lover is quite the fan of your work. I’ve watched over a hundred of your snuff films. And honestly, whenever I watched one, I secretly fantasized about being that doomed
damsel in distress. I just never imagined that it would happen for real.”
“Well, Charlie. I have to admit, this is a first. I’ve finally abducted someone who turns out to be a fan. I mean, what are the odds.”
“I know. Really, what are the odds of something like this happening? So, will you still do all that gruesome torture before gutting me in your signature explosion of blood and gore?”
Rather than responding, Ghost lowered the cattle prod until its two prods rested on the rope, pressing upward against Charlie’s crotch, then switched it on. Charlie’s body stiffened as
fifty thousand volts of electricity surged through her body.
As Charlie struggled to catch her breath, Ghost said, “I think you already knew the answer to your question. Fifty thousand volts is enough to cause every muscle in your body to convulse
in agony. You can’t breathe and certainly can’t scream.”
“Oh, my god. You’re for real! That also hurt way more than I imagined it would! I know many of your fans think the torture, the blood, and the gore are all produced using CGI. Still, my
ex-lover, a computer graphics developer, told me that the realism in your films far exceeded anything that even the most advanced graphics tools could produce.”
Pausing momentarily, Charlie added, “So Ghost, seriously, do I really get the chance to star in one of your snuff films? You may also want to gag me before we get into any serious torture.
I’m a bit of a screamer.”
Setting down the cattle prod on a nearby tray of surgical instruments, Ghost opened the cabinet, selected a large black rubber ballgag, and, turning back to Charlie, forced it deep into her
mouth before clinching its strap uncomfortably tight. Then, picking up the cattle prod, he changed its setting before lowering it so that its two prods rested once again against that painfully
taut crotch rope.
“If you thought fifty thousand volts hurt way more than you imagined, let’s see what one hundred thousand volts feels like.” Smiling at Charlie’s entertaining look of horror, he pressed the switch.
...
Hours later, as Ghost dumped the last of Charlie’s dismembered corpse into the acid, he had to admit that, even as an initially unwilling damsel in distress, Charlie’s gruesomely torturous demise
would become one of his favorites. He wondered if her ex-lover would think the same when he saw her being disemboweled...