Torture Is My Business

Chapter 1: Video Tape and Nails

In a room with no windows, the sounds came in pairs. First there was the thud of a hammer hitting a nail, and then the scream of a woman in pain.

The walls of that room were thick concrete blocks with earth beyond that, for the room was deep underground. The shaft descending to it had a massive door at the top and another solid, sealed one at the bottom. No matter how loudly the woman screamed, not the tiniest sound would reach the outside world. So the man had left the gag off when he tied her to the metal chair, a chair with its four legs set in the concrete of the floor. Extremely tight ropes pulled her arms behind the chair and held them there. Other ropes wound around her legs to hold them squeezed together, and then more to hold them down to the chair’s seat. He had wrapped rope around the chair back and her chest before pulling her hands back and binding them, with the results that she could not move her torso, not even a fraction of an inch. In fact, so tightly was she bound that she could only shake her head from side to side in negation of the horror that was happening to her.

After securing the young women to the chair, the man had taken care to set up his equipment just so. There was a wooden table that was pulled up until it was over her legs and against her chest just below her breasts. Then he adjusted the light and the two video cameras to record the event in full-color detail. When all that was in position, he removed the gag from her mouth and tossed it into the corner of the room.

Immediately she began to plead. There were pleas to not kill her, followed by pleas to let her go, along with the usual promises not to go to the police, not to tell anyone about him. When she saw the tools he was setting on the bench, she gasped loudly and began both crying and pleading that he not use those instruments of torture on her.

With a professional’s detachment, he ignored her pleas as he set a number of 12 penny nails and a hammer on the table’s surface in plain sight of the young woman and one of the video cameras. He paused for a moment to allow the cameras to record her desperate but hopeless struggles against the ropes. He also enjoyed the way muscles in her body tensed and strained in hopeless effort against ropes applied with all his male strength. The tiny wiggles and bounce of her large breasts were fun to watch, too, but they were not nearly as pronounced as they would have been had she not been tied down so tightly.

When her violent struggles subdued, he calmly picked up one of the nails. His intent was very clear, both to the frightened girl and to anyone who might watched the video being recorded. The young blonde sucked in air and a faint flash of hope danced across her face. He was just teasing her! He would not really do this. It would be too horrible to contemplate.

Moving the nail over to the edge of the board, he pounded it with the hammer, driving into with two sharp blows into the wood. Then he put down the hammer and stepped back.

For a long while he contemplated the young woman, he gaze flicking between her body, the nail in edge of the board, the hammer and the as yet unused nails. He reached forward and picked up the hammer and a nail.

The young woman shrieked, her eyes wide with fear as she watched him position the nail and raise the hammer. It came down, but it was only a test swing. Then it went up slowly, paused, and came down hard.

Her first scream echoed off the concrete walls. He backed away and waited for her reaction to run its course.

The cameras had been positioned so that one covered her from the hips up to the top of her head. That one would show her reactions to the torment. The other was set for a close-up on the wooden bench, showing that this was serious torture.

He worked slowly. Thud! Scream. Thud! Scream. Five times more that was repeated. Then he stepped back again.

He sighed with pleasure. He did so enjoy his work! The tear-stained face, so young and so lovely, shook wildly. He did enjoy working with the younger ones; they were stronger and tended not to faint so often. It takes a lot of the fun out of the work if the woman keeps fainting and escaping the pain that way. This one, a girl named Marie if he remembered correctly, was only nineteen with the firm, slender body of that age. Later, he would have to devise some kind of torture for her legs; they were so long and shapely that it would be a shame to ignore them. But for now, he wanted to finish the video he was making.

Careful not to obstruct the view of the camera, he took a box of wooden matches out of his pocket. They were only about three inches long each, not the bigger ones called kitchen matches. Pipe smokers preferred this kind. He knew she was watching what he was doing. And watching in disbelief, for it was not hard to imagine what was coming next - just hard to belief it was really happening to her.

The scream was most satisfactory. Most satisfactory indeed.