{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil\fcharset0 Times New Roman;}{\f1\froman\fprq2\fcharset0 Times New Roman;}} {\colortbl ;\red255\green0\blue0;\red0\green0\blue0;\red0\green0\blue127;} \viewkind4\uc1\pard\nowidctlpar\sl240\slmult1\cf1\lang1033\kerning28\b\i\f0\fs32 FOR GROUP MEMBERS ONLY. THE FOLLOWING \par MUST NOT TO BE FORWARDED OR POSTED IN \par ANY OTHER PUBLIC FORUM.\cf2\b0\i0\fs28\par \par \ul\b\i\fs32 WARNING! ADULTS ONLY!\cf3\ulnone \cf2\i0\fs28 The following is an extreme work of erotic horror fiction that \par graphically describes the brutal sexual killing of a thirteen-year-old girl. All persons, places and \par events are fictitious, and as such their depictions are protected as free speech under United States \par law. However, if you are offended by this type of adult subject matter -- DO NOT READ BEYOND \par THIS CAUTIONARY DISCLAIMER! Most importantly, this story must not be read by or knowingly \par forwarded to anyone under the age of eighteen or whatever the age of majority is in their country of \par residence. To do so would be irresponsible and may be illegal.\cf3\par \par \cf2\fs32 THE CHAIR\cf3\b0\fs28\par \cf2 by Mao Se Tongue \cf3\par \par \cf2 The pretty little blonde bound to the large wooden chair was alluringly slender and extremely young. She \par had the fantastic look of a frightened little girl. Yet she occupied a delightful nodal point between two states \par of physical and sexual maturity, and both the proto woman and the thirteen-year-old majorette were terrified. \par Her adorable face was wet with tears that partially resulted from her shame at being nearly naked. Only a tiny, \par lavender silk, string-bikini bottom stood between me and a wonderfully tight virgin quim. Debbie Malone was \par petrified because she naturally assumed I was about to rape her. I had no such plans, but the girl would not be \par comforted in the least when she learned what I intended doing to her was going to be infinitely worse.\cf3\par \par \cf0 \cf2 Being a relic of the inquisition, the massive chair in which she meekly sat had a long, dark history. Its ancient \par oak frame exuded\cf3 \cf2 the lingering psychic auras of more than one young lady\rquote s death agonies. I alone had ended \par the lives of three beautiful teenage girls in this sinister device. None over the age of fifteen; they had all been \par slender and irresistibly feminine like Debbie; and as I knew Debbie would, they had died exquisitely. With the \par hint strange powers of its own, the chair seemed to ensure this. Superficially resembling a traditional electric \par chair it held its young victims\rquote bound wrists down against its thick, flat arms. Leather straps tied their slender \par ankles to square legs. Being such a huge chair, a small girl like Debbie seemed lost in its ominous embrace. \par With her legs and thighs spread painfully wide, the chair kept her young body open and vulnerable all \par possibilities. However, this was a garroting chair, and the cruel death it was about to inflict on this sweet young \par thing would be slower, more intimate and ultimately much more painful than electrocuting her.\par With tears streaming down her innocent young face, Debbie pleaded, "Please, sir, let me go! I won't tell \par anybody about this place! I promise!" Smiling down at the desperate schoolgirl, I silently went on with the \par simple preparations for torturing her to death. \cf3\par \cf2 Debbie's head and neck rested uneasily against a hard, vertical oak plank. I reached down, my hands moving \par behind her neck on either side of her trembling body. As the terrified girl squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for \par the rescue that would never come, I found what I wanted, lifted it up and then lowered it over the girl\rquote s head. \par There wasn't much to it, just a loop of coarse hemp with a wooden handle affixed to one end. Debbie \par immediately understood what it was and what it was about to do to her. "Please! Don't choke me!" she begged, \par looking younger than ever. "Pleeease! I don\rquote t want to die!\rdblquote\par "I know, my dear," I agreed. "That's what makes this so beautiful.\rdblquote\par She was sobbing uncontrollably as I pulled her long blonde hair free of the loop. While her body was \par underdeveloped she did have budding breasts, small, firm and hinting at the promise of womanhood. Naturally, \par no bra marred the view. Her waist tiny, her hips narrow, like many beautiful young girls whose bodies haven't \par quite happened yet she had something of the model about her, lithe and Lolita-like, and very, very arousing. I \par paused to savor both her exquisite body and the moment, and then began to turn the wooden handle. The rope, \par which was firmly attached to the wooden plank behind Debbie's head, began to tighten around her delicate neck. \par This was the basic garrote, the simplest of mechanisms, a tried and true method for torturously separating a young \par female from her breath, and her life. I continued to slowly turn the handle until I could see that little Debbie had \par developed severe breathing problems. Then I stopped and held the choking pressure on her constricted throat \par steady. This was the space I loved to explore; the place where the girl\rquote s breathing was painfully difficult for her \par but still possible. The garrote gave me prefect control over the little majorette's respiration, and I meant to use this \par to keep her alive for as long as possible. I prefer strangling young girls to death, not only because of their arousing \par unspoiled beauty. Debbie was my youngest victim to date, and I fully expected the thirteen year old\rquote s youthful \par endurance would make it possible for me to enjoy torturing her for hours before I finally took the ultimate pleasure \par of killing her. \par "Please...it hurts," she gasped almost inaudibly as the rope squeezed a little tighter.\par "I'm pleased to hear it. Garroting a girl is supposed to hurt her very badly in deed." \par "Can\lquote t...breathe...oh, God...so scared..." These would be her pathetic final words. I twisted again, and her \par hopeless pleas became liquid gurgles. Language, the thing that made her human, was choked out of her by a few \par inches of hemp. Only a five hours ago Debbie Malone had been strutting and prancing her skimpily clad little body \par across a junior high athletic field -- now she was nothing but an delicious piece of girl flesh, and I couldn\rquote t think of \par a single reason not to enjoy strangling her to death as such. \par Her pain and desperation put fantastic tension into Debbie\rquote s beautiful limbs and torso. As she franticly fought \par for her life, I reveled in her taught belly and subtle thighs with their young muscles seizing and straining in protest \par beneath her flawless skin. Here was a delicate yet resilient female physique, vibrantly alive and incredibly responsive \par to inflicted pain. Her pert little tits quivered appealingly as she struggled in the garroting chair\rquote s remorseless grip. \par Seeing a schoolgirl\rquote s pubescent breasts with their fear-hardened little nipples was more than enough to keep me at \par full erection, especially since Debbie\rquote s twitched so invitingly while her superb little majorette's body writhed in \par torment. \par I studied the girl\rquote s lovely face as I strangled her. Sometimes her crying eyes were closed, but mostly they were \par open, mirrors of her pain silently begging me for mercy. Sensuous red lips quivering in terror and softly curled hair \par framing her angelic countenance completed the sublime vision of doomed innocence. \cf3\par \cf2 I played Debbie\rquote s squirming body like the fine instrument it was, taking her on a hellish journey through the \par varying degrees of pain and terror suffered by all properly strangled girls. My previous kills had given me an \par excellent sense of how much a slight young thing like Debbie could stand without loosing consciousness. I \par modulated the rope\rquote s tightness accordingly, allowing her a breath here and there, making her torment last but \par most of all not letting her die. She was in constant agony without ever quite reaching the point of no return. The \par little teenager\rquote s tanned skin shone with a gloss of pain sweat that highlighted her jiggling little breasts and heaving \par chest. Her cheeks glistened with a constant rain of tears -- and still she struggled. I dragged out my adorable \par victim's torture for hours, during which I spontaneously ejaculated half a dozen times. I was delighted by her \par adolescent body\lquote s amazing endurance -- and by my own sexual stamina, when I felt myself about to orgasm for \par the seventh time\cf3 .\cf1 **\cf3\par \cf2 Using the greatest care, I kept the beautiful junior high majorette in unbearable pain while balancing her on a \par knife edge between life and death. But regardless of my diligence, all good things come to an end. Almost four \par hours had passed since the rope had first tightened around the girl\rquote s slender neck. No longer pleading for mercy, \par her sad eyes now begged me to let her die. It was time to force little Debbie up to the most intense level of \par strangulation trauma a young girl can suffer, before she lost consciousness on me and died from sheer \par exhaustion. I released the handle and let her breathe.\cf3\par \par \cf2 Debbie\rquote s entire body shuddered. Her chest expanded dramatically. Then she began to claw the wonderful \par life-giving air into her aching lungs with panicked inhales and exhales. After a minute or so, with normal color \par returning to the girl\rquote s pain-flushed face, her head dropped to her chest and she began sobbing uncontrollably. \par I didn\rquote t interfere. I needed the little thing to recover some of her strength.\par Five more minutes passed before her bitter sobs as last quieted to whimpers, and Debbie raised her head to \par hesitantly look about. When she did I caught a glimpse of the deep, angry bruises on her graceful young neck, \par the sight sending a fresh charge of sexual energy through my loins. Then the girl peered up at me, and I could \par tell from the look in her eyes that she was beginning to hope against hope that I was going to let her live. This \par was the perfect moment!\par I grasped the handle and quickly turned it. Her neck was jerked back against the vertical board, giving the \par horrified little girl just an instant to scream, \ldblquote Nooooo!!!\rdblquote before the rope grew lethally taut, choking off all \par sound but a few faint gurgles.\par The terror stricken thirteen year old instinctively knew I was about to kill her. She began to buck and jerk \par even more violently than she had earlier, her still energetic young body desperately fighting against the renewed \par pain and her approaching death. I gave the handle an extra twist, locked it in place, and stepped back to \par masturbate while I watched my pretty little majorette die in agony.\par Debbie\rquote s pink tongue was protruding from her gaping mouth in a continuous gag reflex. Her crying eyes \par were open wide with a look of absolute terror that sent waves of indescribable pleasure through my throbbing \par member. The cruel rope was squeezing the girl\rquote s little neck so tightly, her delicate throat tissues were certain to \par have been crushed beyond saving.\par A minute passed, and Debbie\rquote s eyes began to noticeably bulge out of her head. A trickle of blood mixed \par with the saliva that dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. Well into the second minute of her lethal \par strangulation it became difficult to distinguish the girl\rquote s futile struggles from her involuntary convulsions. By \par the end of the third minute Debbie was staring blankly into space, her weakening body's writhing reduced to \par an occasional spastic shudder. Yet the doomed girl was clearly still alive and in excruciating pain, and I was \par having great difficulty in delaying my fantastically building orgasm until the moment of her death.\cf3\par \cf2 Finally, at the end of four and a half incomparable minutes, Debbie\rquote s gorgeous little torso began to twitch \par and then convulse in her agonizing death throes. Approaching the moment of her extinction, disconnected \par from everything but the bind-bending pain, the dying girl involuntarily arched her back as if offering her small \par breasts to me in some final supplication. At this instant I ejaculated with an orgasm so explosively violent, I \par couldn\rquote t be sure of who was dying. When it was finally over and my vision cleared, I saw the girl\rquote s limp body \par was motionless except for a few feeble post mortem twitches. Then I noticed that her tiny bikini bottom had \par been stained dark by a vaginal discharge so massive it still was dribbling out of her in little spurts, leaving me \par to wonder until the end of my days about what had really happened\cf3\par \par \cf1 **What the hell, it\rquote s a fantasy\par \par \cf2\f1\fs24 reformatted 8/14/03\par \par .\cf1\f0\fs28\par \par .\par }