Revenge (nc, blood, magick, semi-snuff, revenge, tg, torture)
			      "Revenge"

			     Chapter One

Tom Peterson stopped at the entrance to his home, frowning. Why was
the door standing open? Setting his briefcase down, he pushed it open
enough to slip inside. What he heard froze him in his tracks.

"Yeah, bitch, suck it good. Suck it good and maybe I won't hurt you
too much. I'm gonna fuck you, you know. I'm going to fuck you up the
ass. You're going to bleed, bitch, and squeal like a pig. An' I'm
gonna enjoy it."

Shit, Tom thought to himself. I don't believe this is happening. He
quietly moved towards the bedroom. Why hasn't Marie stopped him yet?
As he got close to the door, he stopped, then began inching
forward. As soon as he had a clear view, he cleared his
throat. "Ahem." The man spun half way around, then crumpled to the
floor under both his and his wife's mental blows.

				 ***

As Tom finished arranging the man inside the circle, he asked his wife
the question that had been on his mind since he first stepped in the
door. "So why didn't you just stop him as soon as he tried something?"

"I tried. But he was so focused, so full of lust and anger, that I
couldn't touch him. His single-mindedness worked as well as a
shielding spell."

Tom nodded. "And when I cleared my throat, something he was totally
unprepared for --"

"It broke his concentration, and either of us could have taken
him. Exactly."

Tom grinned nastily at his wife. "Well, he'll soon learn that this was
a mistake."

The redhead nodded, but didn't return his grin. "He saw Nat's picture
on the wall, Tom. He threatened to make me call her and have her come
over. I want his balls."

Tom stopped what he was doing. "What? Oh, no, you can't have them, I'm
afraid. I've got. . . another use for them." He told her what he had
in mind, and by the time he was finished she was grinning along with
him. Oddly enough, neither grin was very friendly. . . .

				 ***

John opened his eyes. God, his head hurt. What had happened? Where was
he? Then he remembered the bedroom, the unexpected sound behind him,
and a flash of pain. A stun-gun. Shit. The guy got hom early and had a
stun gun. He thought for a moment that he was lucky it wasn't a real
gun, until he realized he was tied down. He had a sudden sinking
feeling he was worse off than if it had been.

"I know you are awake," a woman's voice said. "Don't bother
pretending."

"What are you doing? Let me go, dammit. I got rights. I know it. You
can't keep me here--" Sudden crushing pain to his balls silenced him.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, asshole. You weren't exactly
concerned about my rights, now were you?" He felt a sudden streak of
pain down the crease of his crotch, and a knife blade, slightly
bloody, entered his field of vision. "One more sound and I'll cut your
fucking dick off and gag you with it."

He nodded to show he understood. Shit, this woman was crazy. And
pissed at him. . . . He tested his bonds, but they were too tight for
him to even bend his knees or elbows.

"I'm ready, my love," said a man's voice. "Are you?"

"Oh, yes. Just explaining a few things to him, like he's going to keep
his mouth shut."

"Well, for now anyway. I have some. . . plans for that mouth." The man
chuckled, and John nearly pissed himself. He was slowly beginning to
realize just how much trouble he was in.

He heard a squeaking noise, as of wheels that needed oiling, and a
mirror was moved into place above him. He could see the line where the
knife had cut him. . . quite deeply, he realized. He was bleeding
quite badly.

The woman reached out and brushed his dick. "Like that?" she
asked. "Better enjoy it. It's the last time you'll ever feel it." She
began to stroke him, slowly, trying to arouse him. She leaned over,
and he saw that she ws naked. Her large breasts pressed against him as
she trailed her tongue along his neck, hre breath warm in his
ear. "We're going to take your manhood away from you. . . forever. And
I'm going to cum while we do it. So will you. . . ."

Despite her words, and the fear he felt, his cock began to
harden. Distantly, in the background, he could hear the man chanting
something, but it didn't seem important. The only thing that ws
important was the hand on his cock, the lips on his neck, and the
voice in his ear.

"Look in the mirror. Imagine the most beautiful woman in the
world. . . you can see her there, can't you? Imagine her. Look at
every part of her body, her ass, her cunt, her lips, her breasts. you
can see them, can't you?"

He could. Somewhere, some corner of his mind was screaming that
something wasn't right, but he ignored it, focusing on the image of
the small asian woman in the mirror, imagining her sucking on his
cock. 

"You want her to suck your cock? She can do that. . . ." The voice
crooned. "Close your eyes. . . you can still see her. . . imagine her
sucking your cock as you lick her pussy. . ." The woman shifted
around, so that her cunt was over his face. He could smell
it. Instinctively he reached out to lick it, and as he did so he felt
her take his cock in her mouth. Somehow he could still hear her
voice. "You want to cum, don't you? You want to fill my mouth with
your cum. . ." And he did. . . he felt it rising, felt it traveling up
his cock. . . and just as it reached the end he heard, "NO!"

He whimpered, as something stopped his cum in his cock. It hurt, but
he was still coming, pressure building up inside painfully. The woman
above him shuddered as she came on his face, and he screamed in pain
as fire lanced through his balls. She got off of him, and in the
mirror he saw his balls. . . in her hand. She'd cut them off! She
grabbed his jaw and forced it open, pushing one inside. "Here. Don't
spit it out."

He tried, but couldn't. His mouth wouldn't obey. He felt like he was
wrapped in cotton, even the pain between his legs distant. He smelled
some kind of smoke, and the tip of his cock burned; looking in the
mirror he saw that it was pressed up against a red hot coal. "Ok, you
can come now," he heard, and he did, again, this time the cum spurted
out painfully onto the coal, where it hissed.

Some noises from behind him drew his attention, a clinking sound. Then
the man walked up to him. "Open your mouth." John did so, unable to
resist. The man poured something in his mouth, then took the coal and
placed it on top. Despite the pain, John couldn't move, couldn't do
anything to relieve the burning.

Both the man and the woman were chanting now, and he felt the mixture
in his mouth begin to heat up. Then he felt a tingling, and the heat
began to spread outward from his mouth, and slowly there seemed to be
less and less in his mouth, until it was empty, and his entire body
felt like it was on fire. The chanting rose to a peak, and a flash of
cold swept over his body. Suddenly he didn't hurt anymore. . . and the
mirror showed him whole and intact between his legs. 

Was I hallucinating? John thought. Then the woman caught his eye. She
was holding a small scrap of skin. "You weren't hallucinating," she
said. "We just don't want the autopsy to find anything unusual."

The autopsy? Oh shit -- they were going to kill him. 

"Yes, we are," said the man. "But don't worry, you'll still be
alive. Or, rather, you'll be alive again in a few days. Now, go play
in traffic. Get hit by something large, a semi or a bus."

John found himself free, and he ran for the door as fast as he
could. He didn't know why they didn't kill him, but he wasn't going to
stick around and ask questions. He ran several blocks without
stopping, until he came to a major street. Stopping to catch his
breath, he noticed an oncoming semi. The man's words came back to
him. "Go play in traffic. Get hit by something large, a semi or a
bus."

John barely had time to scream before the semi hit him.