It’s another rainy night in a quiet, fog-shrouded fishing village on England’s North Sea coast.

Getting home this evening, Rachel paused to change into something more revealing. After opening a bottle of wine, she watched “The Mutilator,” a horror movie with a rather dark, erotically disturbing scene.

“In the film, a young woman named Sue searches for her missing boyfriend when the film’s fiendishly creative killer grabs her. Lifting her by her throat, he raises a medieval battle axe and is about to behead her when he has a change in plans. Dragging her into the garage, he clears off a workbench and lifts her onto it. Holding her by her throat, he sets aside the battle axe and picks up the massive fishing gaff hook, a large gleaming steel hook with a sharp, barbed tip. The same intimidating fishing gaff terrified her earlier in the movie when she’d first seen it hanging on the cabin’s living room wall. Raising the gaff, he pauses to hold it before her terrified eyes. Then, she stared in horror as he slowly moved it down along her body until the hook’s barbed tip rested between her upper thighs, directly beneath her crotch. Pausing to briefly savor the delightful look of horror on Sue’s face, he roughly pulled the sharp, barbed tip of the gaff deep into her crotch. Taking several more powerful tugs to fully seat the hook’s curved base deep within Sue’s lower abdomen, he rotated the massive steel hook inside her until the barbed, blood-coated tip came out through her lower belly. Lying there, grasping the bloody hook protruding obscenely from within her belly, Sue stared with pain-filled eyes as he raised the battle axe and brutally decapitated her.”

“Of course, that was just a movie. My nightmare is considerably more erotically gruesome.”

“In my nightmare, once the hook protrudes from my belly, the killer clips the gaff’s handle to an overhead, track-mounted chain hoist. Ignoring my desperate screams of agony, he grabs the hoist control. He hoists me up, raising my hook-pierced pelvis upward until only my shoulders and head remain supported by the workbench. Then, using the hoist control, he moves the hoist along the overhead track until my upper body slips off the workbench to hang inverted. Pausing as I slowly sway from the hook, screaming, he takes a leather strap and secures my ankles above me to the chain that I’m hanging from. Then, grasping my wrists, he roughly pulls my hands behind my back and straps my wrists together.”

“Annoyed by my high-pitched screams, the killer roughly stuffs a ballgag within my mouth to stifle my desperate cries. Grasping the hoist control, he moves me along the track toward a set of swinging doors at the back of the garage.”

“I notice that the room on the far side of the swinging doors is far colder than the garage, as he pauses to switch on the overhead lights. Blinking as my eyes struggle to adjust to the bright lights, I notice the glass door of a walk-in freezer against the far wall, its frosted shelves filled with white paper-wrapped packages of meat. Staring at those neatly wrapped packages of meat, I felt a sudden chilling sensation that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature as I realized that I was hanging upside down by a steel hook through my pelvis in the middle of an underground butcher shop.”

“I continue to move along the overhead track only to stop over a blood-stained plastic bucket. With my long blonde hair dangling down into the bucket, my killer grabs a handful of my hair and roughly pulls my head painfully back. A moment later, he raises a razor-sharp knife to the side of my neck and brutally cuts my throat from ear to ear. I finally lost consciousness, listening to the obscene sound of my blood spilling into that waiting plastic bucket.”

Pausing to refill her wine glass, Rachel contemplated her disturbingly dark nightmare. To be brutally tortured like that, only to end up as nothing more than white paper-wrapped meat packages.

“As I took another sip of wine, I allowed my hand to slide across my firm, flat belly. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be painfully hanging inverted over that blood-stained bucket, with my body suspended from that steel hook protruding obscenely from my belly. Helplessly bound and gagged, watching in agony as my killer smiled with eager anticipation while picking up that razor-sharp knife to end my life.”

“Honestly, my only disappointment with my nightmare is that my killer could have had the diabolic decency to leave me hanging like that overnight before returning in the morning to cut my throat. Torture this brutal and obscenely agonizing deserves to be savored, not rushed...”