LAMI PI PRODUCTIONS 1 – 2 by Regis

Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults.

Feature Writer: Regis

Feature Title: LAMI PI PRODUCTIONS 1 – 2

Published: 13.02.2024

Author’s Notes: Inspired by “Kidfight Club” by Midwych — This story is not written to entertain the faint-hearted, and will not. It is, in the grandest sense, entirely written as hard-core kiddie lovers’ literature. In the heat of battle, the little girls frequently lose continence, producing both pee and poo. That is the nature of little girls in distress. They just can’t always hold it back. I’m sure you know Moms should never get their daughters naked in front of strangers, or even friends, and certainly not encourage them to fight each other. That’s hardly civilized, at least as things are now. Moral and cultural norms change, and this is a direction things could take if we aren’t careful. Who knows, we might get lucky so this becomes the norm. Worse has happened. This story tells how serious things could get if things were allowed to get out of hand, and I’m sure that at least most of us would be shocked to see this ever happen, anywhere. I’m pretty sure most of us understand that things are not perfect in our world and that things like this do happen. We can only stamp it out if we understand the dangers. Be alert, and keep your kids safe. That’s about all we can do as individuals. Or if it gets out of control, just enjoy it — Beware: There are bad people out there!

Warning: In addition to all of the other sexual violence, realistic scatological descriptions, and pornographic smut, much of it involves minors, including an inordinate amount of fights between naked little girls, organized by their mothers, sometimes ending in minor/minor girlie snuff, this story contains racial epithets, designed not to offend sensitive readers any more than other content of the story will certainly do, but to provide an accurate atmosphere consistent with that in which the protagonist found himself. And likely still does.

Lami Pi Productions 1 – 2

NEWS ITEM: (International Press) Moscow – The verdict was announced this afternoon after a lengthy trial in which the parents of two young girls were found guilty on all counts in their murder trial. Their crime was so heinous the courtroom was sealed. Now that the verdict is in, the court has released the non-redacted transcript of the complete verdict to the press. The decision includes the release of all photos put into evidence, taken by women at the party, and images of the naked little girls fighting that are so graphic we cannot print them, but if you insist on seeing them, we have put them online.

The crime occurred seven months ago in a small remote Siberian village and was intended to be a simple fight between their little girls to settle a simple dispute over a fishing boat. The two couples arranged for a special party and invited their friends to attend. Their daughters were stripped naked to increase sexual titillation for their friends. Kiddie fights are all about sex. After drinking for hours, the two mothers brought their six-year-old daughters out of their bedroom where they had been playing, stripped them naked, tied one hand behind their backs to a tight belt around their waist, and then forced the nude girls to fight in a ferocious punching, kicking, hair-pulling, scratching, and head-butting slug-fest.

When the results were less than inspiring, the intoxicated fathers gave each little girl a butcher knife and told them to continue. The two good little girls did as they were told. The incredibly savage bloody brutality that followed resulted in the two six-year-old minors dead, butchered alive by their opponent. The court ruled that at the age of six, the children were too young to understand a knife fight was illegal, had no sense of what was too much and that neither was culpable in slaying the other.

All four parents were found guilty of induced murder and were all sentenced to death. In Siberia, murder convicts are hanged, but because this crime was tried in Moscow, the court determined the four convicts would go before a firing squad. The sentence will be carried out Friday, before official witnesses and select invited dignitaries. As is usual in such circumstances, the public will not be admitted to witness the execution of the four guilty parents.

CHAPTER 1 – Diabolical Execution

“Those are pretty balsy parents,” Jackson thought as he read the details of the bizarre Siberian story and sipped his martini, “Fucking shit, little six-year-old girls knife-fighting naked at a party! Each spurred on by her parents! I’ll bet there’s a way to turn that kind of event into a real money maker.”

He was always on the lookout for innovative ways to develop new enterprises. This idea had his full attention.

He was in Berlin on business and realized how close that was by air to Moscow.

“Damn,” he thought, “They’re killing those convicts this week. If I could arrange for an invitation to that execution of the four by firing squad, that would be something to see. The fucking Russians are known for the brutality of killing their criminals.”

The client he was here to see was Baron von Krudd, who he knew to have some close connections with Moscow oligarchs.

This was Wednesday afternoon, and he wanted to check out the possibility of an invitation to view the execution. He called the Baron, who chuckled when he heard the request.

“There’s no way you could witness the execution, Jackson. That’s the official version you read,” the Baron said, “Never confuse the authorized line with reality.

“The truth is the real execution was carried out Monday. I attended. A few powerful oligarchs took care of it privately. That’s how it’s done in Russia, and that’s the power of the oligarchs. The official pronouncement was just for the public, and as is most often the case, had nothing to do with what happened.

“They always have private parties to take care of things like the death sentence. As far as I know, they always have. This one was special because these two couples had committed such a heinous crime by forcing their little daughters not only to fight nude but as things progressed, to eventually kill each other at a drunken party.

“The organizers made sure the punishment for the crime was a horrific slow death, but not for the parents. After the trial, they were sent back to their Siberian village, with instructions to hold another nude child fight party each month, always in a different village.

“The offending fishermen and their wives were further required to send a video of each event, always featuring naked little girls and butcher knives. The oligarchs had only read about it in the papers and wanted to watch such an outrageous fight happen. It would be safer if on video, from a remote village in Siberia. They promised to provide some protection from prosecution if the coupes complied fully.

“I’ve had the pleasure to attend a few of these special private executions, and they’re always extraordinary, but this one was definitive regarding what punishment and execution should be about. For the extremely wealthy oligarchy, prolonged pain and raw suffering of their innocent victims are minimum requirements.

“The Russians have a rich history of incredibly destructive and creative torture to call upon, and they regularly build upon that background to design new horrific ways to put their victims to death. I can’t believe how far they will go to shock each other, at the expense of incredibly cruel, outrageous treatment of their victims. That’s what makes them so spectacularly evil and worthwhile to attend.

“I was not the only one who attended Monday’s proceedings as an invited guest. The President, the Prime Minister, the judge who had endured the lengthy and disgusting trial, and a few other high level business and government officials were in attendance. This was to be a singularly distinctive occasion, and I felt very honored to be included.

“To ensure the crime was properly punished, they had quickly rejected the parents, because they were ordinary looking peasants, a couple of young fisherman and their quite ordinary looking portly middle-aged wives. Those charged with planning the event required classy looking urban women and men to execute, and selected shapely, fit fashion models for their private killing party.

“As long as two women and two men would die an inhumanly brutal, cleverly designed death, they were completely satisfied justice would be done. From everything I witnessed, it was. The organizing oligarchs made a video of the event for the record, and to hand down to their grandchildren.

“The women they selected were tall, statuesque, and were both outstanding beauties. One was a ravishing blonde and the other an equally beautiful redhead. Both had their hair coiffed, piled high on the top of their heads, revealing their long gorgeous necks. “I had grown instant boner when I saw them enter the execution room, knowing I was going to see these gorgeous creatures killed.

“This hair arrangement had the effect of also making them appear to be taller, and their curls swung down beside their bright, enticingly made-up cock-stimulating faces. Looking at them would not only inspire erections, but for some, I believe un-stimulated ejaculation.

“Male models were selected for their physique, handsomeness, and in particular for the impressive size of their erections, as well as their ability to quickly produce and maintain a rigid cock. For the oligarchs and their wives, the size and rigidity of the subject’s genitals are important.

“Both ladies had voluptuous figures and ample breasts that had yet to show any sign of sag, standing proudly outward on their own. Like all models, theirs and the two men’s groins had been fully waxed, the totally hairless Brazilian style, fully displaying their genitalia.

“The ladies they procured wore only spike-heeled red stripper shoes, the favorites of the oligarchs. One pair of the fashion models had been chosen and brought to Moscow from the high fashion district of Hamburg, the other couple had been selected for this execution in St. Petersburg.

“These oligarchs preferred to execute innocent people, and these 4 had never had so much as a parking ticket. The men were very fit, with tight abs and perfect faces. They would be the first to go so that the women could watch in horror. With mixed executions, they had long ago determined that killing the men first was the most interesting way to proceed.

“Two pairs of very high scaffold towers had been erected, with a gap in each pair of about three feet. The men, wearing only black boots, stood straddling the gap. They had each been fed a fistful of Viagra, and their upward-curving penises stood rigidly at attention. Their arms were spread wide overhead, bound to ropes from anchors bolted to the high ceiling.

“The wife of one of the oligarchs suggested they spike the men’s feet, right through their boots, to the plywood top of the scaffolds, but another wife intervened, saying it might be much more interesting to watch them kick high, swinging by their wide-stretched bound arms, revealing more of their wildly waving penises, large swinging testicle sacs and their puckered winking anuses.”

This erotic display would be most pronounced as pain racked their bodies, and the first withdrew her suggestion, agreeing with the second to speak.

“You’re right, darling,” she said, “You know how I love the sight of spread male groins and swollen wrinkled rectums. Perhaps the anus of one of them will open, and in his extreme distress he’ll produce a firm lump of his excrement for us.”

“A thin wire was looped over their left shoulder,” the narrative over the telephone continued, “Running down the side of their stomach and tied in their groin on the left side of their gender indicator. It formed a noose. The same was done on the right side, dividing the lean muscular torsos of the men into left, right, and center. Their penis and balls were between the wires at the bottom and their head between them at the top.

“Each of the women stood with tight leather bands around their wrists and elbows, knees and ankles the lower portion of each limb vertical, their arms and legs widespread, cuffed to large rings around a pair of greased poles for each, placed about four feet apart, stretching the bodies of the buxom nude ladies wide in a vertical squat.

“A stout rope was tied around each woman’s chest, under her arms, and above her large breasts, and used to pull her up until she swung by it, her groin suspended six feet above the floor. A stout sharpened pole, six feet long, with a four-inch girth, was placed beneath each of the young women, and the tip of the post was entered securely into the blonde’s rectum and the redhead’s vagina.

“These posts were sufficiently thick to ensure the ladies slid onto them quite slowly, even though they had been liberally greased. It would never do to have them run through and die too quickly. The ropes around their chests that had been used to raise them were now removed, and no longer needed. The ladies were entirely supported by the posts gradually working their way up into their lovely torsos.

“Now the gorgeous young ladies’ weight began to pull them gradually down onto the posts, with every little movement, and this is how simply the slow impalement of the horrifically screaming women commenced. Delightfully naked little girls danced with outrageously degenerate moves as they served us drinks.

“We stood around enjoying the sight of the men and the naked ladies, all with their limbs widespread, providing fully public views of their privates. Both women, no longer suspended by the stout ropes, began their slow slide down the length of the unforgiving impaling posts, gradually taking the greased shafts into their lean torsos.

“In the meantime, electric wires were attached to the bottom of the slender tight wire loops that vertically bound the muscular torsos of the male models. Now a heavy lead weight was attached to the bottom of these wires for each man, swinging between their legs and putting severe pressure on the thin line wrapped over their shoulders.

“Their death would be comparatively rapid, and would also be exceedingly painful. Even so, the sexual experience enhancers coursing through their systems kept their upward arching penises at full attention and visibly throbbing. I believed there was a chance that they both might ejaculate before things became terminal for them, for the enjoyment of their small but appreciative audience.

“The two female models, with the stout posts working their way further into their invaded groins as they gradually slid down, watched in abject horror as the electric current was applied to the wires binding the men. The big lead weights were also doing their job, and as the wires heated more they began to gradually burn their way into their men’s muscular shoulder meat.

“The electric power was increased, and as the wires became red hot, smoke began to rise from the sizzling burns they made, the glowing wires scorching their way into their shoulders increasing the depth by the moment, aided by the lead weight slung below their swinging testicles, tightening the hot wire loops.

“The wires to left and right were like lasso loops, tightening steadily by their burning progress into male meat and the unyielding tug of the large lead weights. They were slowly being cut into three vertical chunks by the heinously ingenious device that clung to them.

“The two tortured men quickly proved to their appreciative audience of men and women that they could scream as loudly and as shrilly as the equally innocent female models, whose slow execution was concurrent with their own. Their fuck organs somehow remained firm and pulsing, regardless of their astonishing distress.

“As the wires were cooking their way into the bound men straddling the scaffolds, and threatening to divide each of them into three, they realized their death was imminent. The two raging erections startled most as they began to spout semen in flying arches, drawing cheers from their murderous audience of high-placed and very wealthy dignitaries.

“The searing hot wires as they progressed, cauterized the deadly deep wounds they made, limiting the bleeding even as they cut down inside the men’s torsos to scorch their vital organs. It was an entirely diabolical scheme that worked perfectly. Still, the slicing and burning by the wires progressed in a maniacal, murderous advancement as we watched, the end approaching precipitously.

“The rate of burning now rapidly increased, and in moments, one at a time the wires burned right through them, the fine steel loops closed completely, and the V-shaped midsection of the men, from their heads down to their penises, scrotums, and rectums, dropped to the floor. It was an insane sight, and all the men found it necessary to pull out their penises and to masturbate to ejaculation.

“Left behind at the top of the towers were the side portions of both men, suspended by their wrists, the departed mid-section completely gone, their side bacon holding their legs up. It was a mind-bending sight. The male fashion models had died heroically, fulfilling the death sentence for the good of justice, and had expired precisely as planned,

“The women took much longer to die, and the guests got to enjoy several drinks served to them by the naked children before the first of the ladies, the German blonde, stopped quivering and sighed in death. She was fully impaled, followed only a few minutes later by the St. Petersburg redhead. The naked beauties sliding down the poles gave the audience a spectacular show, both of the magnificent bitches pissing grandly during their final moments alive.

“Heavyweights were placed around the waist of each woman as she breathed her last, increasing her rate of descent. The pole the blonde was riding internally at last emerged through the side of her neck, and she continued the gradual slide down until her buttocks spread on the floor.

“The other woman, the Russian, remained upright so that the point of the pole went up through her brain and poked a hole in the top of her lovely skull. Neither of them did the classic thing and threw her head back to allow the spike to emerge through her gaping mouth. She too, driven downward by the weight strapped to her, at last also sat on the floor. That ended the remarkable evening.”

Jackson thanked his friend for the thorough description of the occasion and expressed his sorrow he had not been able to attend. These events added richness to a person’s experience not easily found elsewhere. His penis had been pulsing as the Baron described the proceedings, and he got it out just in time to avoid ejaculating inside his pants.

The nature of the crime by the Siberian parents, forcing their little girls to fight naked in front of friends had got his juices stirring. One hand tied behind their backs was inspired. But then setting the little girls up to kill each other with fucking butcher knives, that was right over the fucking top.

He recognized this kind of diabolical performance was so sexually stimulating that it had potential as a moneymaker. He wasn’t yet sure how it would come to be, or how it would unfold, but it was unquestionably worth pursuing. If it got him turned on, it would turn on others. Jackson trusted his instincts.

CHAPTER 2 – Building a Concept

Jackson Avery was a winner and was always expanding the diversity of profitable enterprises. Some of them were not listed on his corporate portfolio. He did not decide to get into the private nude cunt-fight business without having developed a thorough knowledge of what he was getting into.

He had no idea where it would lead him, or that he would soon be the producer of extremely violent competitions between apparently innocent little girls. He always gave his valued customers whatever they requested, and they in turn always paid him handsomely for satisfying their most bizarre requests.

Jackson was in every regard an entrepreneur’s entrepreneur, who knew how to make any opportunity into a paying venture, and never initiated an enterprise without first doing his due diligence. He had loved schoolyard fights when he was a kid, and knew that kind of enjoyment would be general, and not fade. Kids fighting nude was an amazing idea.

At the time he formed his concept for his new business, he had no idea of the very young age of the competitors he would feature in naked girl fights, or of how far he would allow their battles to go, for the thrill of the gamblers, but it would all have to be about the gamblers and their money, not about the safety of silly little girls.

He had always developed a comprehensive background on whatever industry he was about to engage in, particularly one so perilous, due to its highly questionable legality. He would have to think of every angle, and everything that could go wrong, and then work out a perfect antidote to protect himself and his other businesses.

The legality of what Jackson had in mind was not in question at all. In truth, he understood it was entirely against the laws of any country, as well as fully contravening almost any sane person’s sense of morality, but he had discovered offending the moral code was what attracted the wealthy people he targeted as his audience.

What he produced could not be prosecuted if never discovered. That was what made the entire concept so delicious. He loved working in the open but below the radar of the law. Jackson was in the transportation business, specializing in container transport, with a burgeoning international business.

His company was known for transporting everything from electronics to large appliances to bulk goods, to the secret movement of contraband. Containers transported everything his company moved. It was the modern way and suited perfectly the most rewarding as well as profitable side of his business.

The firm’s excellent reputation was for the secure movement of goods and prompt delivery, from and to anywhere in the world his clients required. He owned a fleet of transport trucks on every continent to get products and commodities to port, and seaside warehouses for temporary stowing.

He operated a large fleet of container ships to move goods between continents, and these were constantly busy. His business had flourished, and he was constantly looking for new opportunities to expand into new and exciting areas. Jackson was an entrepreneur’s entrepreneur, in that he not only gave new businesses a start but also operated and grew them successfully.

Show business was new to him, but he had a flair for taking on new projects and making them successful. He was always watching for new concepts and was open to any ideas that could make him money. Jackson was by nature attracted to any activity that involved high risk and pushed the limits of moral acceptability.

His first real exposure to designed sexual violence for show entertainment were unusual for the genre, but the diverse sexual entertainments got him thinking about building a new profitable enterprise. One of these was about total domination of females, and abusing them as sex objects. The other was about nude fighting, resulting in an unusual form of extreme sexual mutilation.

D-Ring Casinos had been doing this for years, but Jackson saw an opportunity for a new niche, by using minors, sometimes quite young naked little girls, to engage in ring fights, with the option open to have some of the bouts extend to continue until they became fatal for one of the combatants.

This was just a rough idea forming, but as it took shape he saw the possibilities it presented to make a great deal of money. Death fights between nude women were daily events at D-Ring, but he saw an opportunity to open a new niche where the girls who went into the ring to fight naked were all much too young to exercise their right to vote. Kiddies.

Unknown to his major clients, he had built his legitimate shipping empire on the illicit transportation of human cargo, while remaining removed from the reasons the people he conveyed had to be shipped, bound and drugged, in his specialized shipping containers.

For the past twenty-five years, he had taken his primary business in a new hugely profitable direction, transporting white slaves (a term that covered all races and skin pigmentation) without risking his legitimate shipping activity. An Australian woman he had met at a cocktail party in Singapore had set up and fine-tuned the process.

He had hired her to put the system in place, which required a large number of special shipping boxes, shipping containers designed to carry them, packing crews to administer strong sedatives to keep them asleep during shipping, and a myriad of other details to make the system workable.

Jackson then arranged that the magnificent Australian beauty mysteriously disappears, only to be found a week later naked, headless, and waterlogged, floating in the harbor in Bangkok. Her head was never found, but Jackson was certain it was safely stored on a shelf in a bottle, pickled to display among other similar souvenirs collected by his trusted woman-disposal agent.

His system for illicit transport of contraband and human cargo was designed so well that he was able to move women and children regularly without fear of discovery. That was critical because the unearthing of his secret would have pulled down his entire transportation empire. His was a big and respected name, and any kind of scandal would prove to be disastrous to Avery Transport Inc.

He made sure he did not know his human passengers’ end destination and end usage. That was information it was important he not know. He was certain it was better that he had no idea he was moving slaves, people of all ages from around the world destined to serve in the sex industry or probably worse.

He had a good idea of what ‘worse’ involved and knew it could create complications for him and his clients if he could be tied to the end use of the people he transported. If he were ever connected to knowingly transporting people into a show ring to die for the entertainment of violence-lusting audiences, he would be complicit in murder.

Jackson was careful in serving only select clients who had their hands clean, with no criminal records or having any known connection to organized crime. On the other hand, having had many meetings with them and having served their human transportation needs for years, he was certain some of his clients were Mafia Dons.

After all, the slave trade, whether it be white or international cunts, would be a fundamental moneymaker for the Mafia, and Jackson was certain the mob-controlled all of the areas where the quiet movement of humans would be valuable, such as prostitution and the production of violent and probably deadly child pornography.

Two of his special customized containers bearing restrained and anesthetized human cargo were due to arrive in San Francisco from the Philippines. They contained a fresh shipment of 48 beautiful young females of various ages, about half of the shipment consisting of delightful pre-teens, age eleven and younger.

His packers had informed him that six of the girls were American, eighteen were Europeans, all taken captive in either Manila or Jakarta. The remainder of the girls were classic young Filipino beauties, several of them children as young as six years old. Jackson knew the consignment would end up at a private country club, one that with good reason privately referred to itself as the “Cuntry Club”. It was a club all about cunts.

Their destination would be at the Club’s private resort in the hills of Southern California, just over one hundred miles northwest of Los Angeles, west of Bakersfield. Jackson had been a guest there at an event a couple of years ago, an experience in which he got to practice his horsemanship.

It was incredibly rare that anyone was ever invited to attend an event at the Cuntry Club, as it was necessarily very private, but because of the services he provided, Jackson had earned special standing with a couple of key members, including the Club’s president.

The invitation surprised him, but he was happy to accept. The man who had invited him arranged for Jackson to be picked up at the Bakersfield airport and taken to the Club’s estate by his chauffeur. He was given a riding outfit and joined a group of a dozen Cuntry Club members on what they called a Doe Hunt. Only members got to carry rifles.

A tall, lanky fourteen-year-old girl, as pretty as any such child Jackson had ever seen, naked except for a deer tail stuck to a post in her rectum, light antlers and long short-furred ears clipped to her head, and a pair of slender black boots that ended in dainty hooves, was sent running, with a five-minute lead. On signal, the hunters, with Jackson as observer, set off, galloping in the direction she had run.

The girl was athletic, fearing for her life, and it took them almost ten minutes to spot her. The ground was uneven, but there were only small pine trees growing in the area, with no ground cover of shrubs to hide her. Once they spotted her they let their horses walk, as there was no way she was going to escape their view.

These were all experienced horsemen and were in no hurry. They were enjoying her panic and had all afternoon to kill their youthful human deer — their primary objective. At one point they surrounded her, and one of the hunters in his riding jodhpurs and red serge jacket dismounted, leaving his rifle in its sling.

He pulled out his penis, pressed the distraught girl, who was screaming at the top of her lungs, back against a tree, thrust his large erect shaft into the vestibule of her unprepared clean-shaven vagina, and gave the gorgeous young bitch a powerful doe fucking. This was the kind of action that made the long trip to the estate worth the time and effort.

During this interval, Jackson was once more impressed at how young and beautiful she was. She had been in a shipment made up entirely of girls taken from a private school in Denver. This lovely naked middle school American cunt was receiving a powerfully injected load of fresh semen into her internal gonads from a very powerful American businessman.

The pretty young girl was not stupid. She had seen the serious rifles these men carried and was completely aware she was considered by them to be nothing but wild game. She knew her destiny was to be shot one bullet at a time by several of the riders, all of them competent riflemen before the afternoon’s sport doe hunt was completed. It was hateful and disgusting, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She was quivering in the certain knowledge she was going to die for their entertainment within the hour. Her shapely young body would become the recipient of several carefully fired bullets, all of them intended to painfully wound her before they finally decided to kill her.

She ran as fast as she could in the amazing little boots once the man who had raped her against the tree finally released her, and as she rapidly moved off he tucked in his penis, zippered his fly, and leisurely remounted his horse. This was a time of freedom and enjoyment, not a time to rush.

The naked girl had nowhere to go, and she knew it. The grounds were extensive, and the square mile of land was fully surrounded by a twelve-foot-high stone wall, topped by an electrified razor wire fence. A dozen sharpshooters were stationed atop the wall, with a mandate to shoot to wound, not to kill.

The killing of the human game was a pleasure reserved for the hunters, and they alone would decide when that would occur. She had been wrong in guessing it would happen soon. It was nearly three hours later when, after she had again been surrounded and treated to two more power-fucks, one of these a gang rape, the lovely young human doe heard the first shot. She now knew she was dead meat.

The sound of the rifle disgorging a bullet came when she was at some distance from the hunters, and in a fraction of a second, she felt the sting of that bullet. The first had nicked her upper arm, the second her buttock and another pierced her side, going cleanly through her.

When they failed to fall her, the girl realized these were skilled and fully intentional shots, not lucky for her. Jackson was thrilled at the brutality and heartless nature of the action and was pleased to see that the fly on his riding pants opened easily so that his penis could lay on the saddle, ready to spout when that became desirable.

The walking action of his mount gave pleasant stimulation to his cock as the horses walked continually toward the injured doe, who was still bravely running. One by one the gentlemen aimed and fired another round into her, each one drawing blood and further weakening her.

At last, the horses were reigned in, and the leader of the group stood in his stirrups. He raised his rifle, leveled it at her, took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger. His well-placed bullet went into her right leg just below her buttock and smashed her femur, the largest bone in the human body.

She went down screaming for the last time, severely injured and effectively immobilized with fractured bones in her limbs, but fully alive, as they intended. The horsemen rode up to her, the leader dropped a rope over her raised head and he pulled her upright.

He fixed the rope to a ring on the front of his saddle so that she hung, her feet not touching the ground, and on the ride back to the stable the kicking and wriggling young beauty, pissing and shitting appropriately as her life ebbed, was slowly hanged to death before they at last arrived.

It was a fitting conclusion to an enjoyable afternoon’s cunt hunt.

“The butcher will be drawing and cleaning her,” the group leader said, “If anyone would like to re-familiarize yourselves with the peculiar inner workings of the female body and watch her viscera being spilled. Otherwise, we’ll be retiring to the drawing room, to enjoy some sherry and the spectacle of some of our six- and seven-year-old girls performing in a pigeon egg-laying competition.”

Jackson would have stayed for the disemboweling had the girl been alive, but chose instead to join most of the group to enjoy the sight of naked little girls competing in laying eggs.

The sherry sounded good, too. He loved watching the obscene exhibition by the naked children eagerly trying to see which of them could give birth to her dozen little eggs onto the hard slate floor first, without breaking any. They were giggling self-consciously, as children do when doing something so naughty in front of an audience of admiring spectators.

When all of their little eggs had been laid, several of them accidentally broke in the attempt, a woman put the girl with the most broken eggs over her lap and gave the screaming naked child a sound spanking. When she was done all of the lovely little girls were required to produce three sausages each from their colons.

Their pert little rectums bulged as they pushed to expel the sausages. Most of the giggling girls gradually ejected four long lumps, the first three being the sausages they carried in their colons, all but the first being smeared with their bowel product, and the last consisting entirely of their feces, the child turd that had pushed the first three out.

Because the children had all been properly housebroken, the delightful naked little girls were deeply embarrassed at having exceeded the bounds of their specific instructions, having all produced real shit in front of strangers. The little imps climbed down off the table when permitted to, and scrambled out of the room, those few who had not been spanked first giggling with glee. They had escaped punishment this time.

Two of the naked teens wearing only spike-heeled shoes brought paper napkins and a bottle of deodorant. One cleared the mess from the table, and another sprayed it clean with a disinfectant deodorant before wiping it once more. Fresh tablecloths were put over the cleaned hardwood, and the table that had served as the children’s impromptu stage was set with fine china.

The entertainment after a sumptuous meal of beautifully prepared venison, involved a nude French woman in her thirties and a pretty little seven-year-old French girl. The young girl’s head had been shaved clean. The large dining room table had been cleared once dinner had been completed, and the two female entertainers, mother, and daughter, both completely naked, climbed up onto the center.

The woman was introduced as Lacy, who had given birth to ten children in her productive career, the first at the age of twelve, sired by her father, and the eight-year-old was introduced as Lynda, her third oldest. The man beside Jackson explained she had earlier in the year performed a similar show to what they were about to see with her oldest two daughters, and was gradually working her way down.

All of Lacy’s offspring had been girls, thanks to gene therapy prescribed by her physician, a prominent member of the Cuntry Club. The other children were seven, twins at six, four, twins at three years old, and a two-year-old. All were destined to die well before the age of ten, to entertain Club members with their outrageously orchestrated deaths executed by their merciless mother.

The woman in her early twenties carried a short length of cotton rope, and she used it to bind her daughter’s wrists tightly together behind her back. She then sat down on the table, spread her legs, and pulled the girl down with her. What followed was as bizarre as anything Jackson could imagine.

The woman’s vagina was entirely prolapsed, thanks to the attention of her physician, and with a great deal of effort, she stretched her cunt open and gradually pulled it over the wagging head of the frantically struggling Lynda. This was going to be an incredibly inhuman infanticide show, with the mother killing her daughter by suffocation inside her womb!

The naked child heaved, twisted, and bucked, desperate to escape, but her mother was equally determined to succeed. She intended to suffocate the little eight-year-old cunt, her eldest surviving daughter, to death by stuffing her head back into the womb from which she had emerged.

Stretching her nether lips over Lynda’s ears and nose, Lacy gradually worked the besieged little girl’s head right into her womb, from which the child had begun her life as an infant to gulp her first breath of air eight years earlier in an indecent birthing show on this very table!

With the stimulation of the struggling child’s head wriggling desperately in her womb, Lacy’s enormously stretched cunt began to contract, effectively trapping the child’s encapsulated head in place. Jackson had no idea how the Club had coerced this beautiful young woman to murder her children in this grossly barbaric way.

This was not the first, and would definitely not be the last time Lacy performed obscene atrocities in this room, on this very table, and clearly for some reason she did it willingly. There were more young girls in her brood waiting their turn. They were certain to die at their mother’s hand or cunt before long.

Jackson made a mental note to research how he could coerce young girls to do such decadent, degenerate things in public. He was certain there was some public taste and therefore demand for this level of human depravity. He would want to be able to meet that need, for a price.

From where he sat Jackson could see Lacy was not enjoying her work, but her determination indicated she also did not find this task as repulsive as it should be. This was a mystery to him, and one he might never resolve. He was respected for his service to this Club but had no close friends here with whom he could discuss this bizarre phenomenon.

THE END OF CHAPTER TWO

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.