This lovely thing is Bridget. Bridget came here tonight, even knowing what would happen. She knows that once she secures her wrists and slips the chain
linking those steel cuffs over the hook hanging before her, her agonizingly torturous doom is assured.
Activating the overhead hoist, I raised Bridget’s bound wrists upward until the toes of her high heels could barely reach my abattoir’s floor. Then, pausing just long enough to put on my face-concealing metal mask and forcing that jaw-straining, oversized ball gag deep into her sensuous mouth, I ripped off her thong. I’m reveling in that look of fear and pain in her lovely eyes as I take that cattle prod and shove its thick metal shaft upward into the tightness of her anus, through her rectum, and painfully deep into the depths of her colon before switching it on.
Tonight, Bridget is mine to do with as I wish, and more importantly, she’s mine to do with as she also desires. I watched in sadistic delight as Bridget’s corset-clad body convulsed erotically as the cattle prods voltage coursed through her helplessly bound body. The oversized ball gag stifled her desperate screams of agony as I stepped back to enjoy her willingly deserved torment.
I waited until the cattle prod’s batteries fully drained before activating the overhead hoist to lift Bridget’s high heel clad toes off the abattoir’s floor. Pulling the cattle prod out of her guts, I marveled at the amount of blood coating its thick shaft. Clearly, Bridget’s request to forgo any anal lubricant had its darkly desired effect, not that I cared.
Selecting a knife from the table, I stabbed it deep into Bridget’s lower abdomen. Its razor-sharp blade, facing upward, I cruelly pulled the knife up through her corset compressed guts, disemboweling Bridget in an inverted version of my signature blood and gore finale.
Still, when my knife reached the underside of Bridget’s ribcage, she was still conscious. Angling the blade up, I sliced through her diaphragm, and reaching upward, ripped out her heart. Bridget died, staring in horror at her still-beating heart in my blood-soaked hands.
Ripping open the top of her corset, I cut off Bridget’s breasts, harvesting her magnificent implants for my growing collection before dismembering her corpse and dumping her remains into that tank of acid out in the back room of my abattoir.
Bridget, just another beautiful woman, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances. On just another Saturday night...