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THE
BOOK: Robert and his victim Marianne, two characters with nothing in common, face each other in a life-or-death struggle a few metres below the streets of London. The man is an obscure office worker who has decided to take control of his own life. The woman is an independent business-like young woman who already controls her own destiny and has no qualms about exploiting her physical beauty to manipulate and even ill-treat those who cross her path. This is the story of a strange, aberrant, relationship that changes the lives of a criminal and his victim. The darkness the oppressive solitude, and fear – fear of her capturer and fear of being unable to withstand so much indignity – hang over young and pretty Marianne, imprisoned in a gloomy basement in a London slum. Her capturer, Robert, is an immature psychopath whose mind is clouded by fear of facing his own victim and by panic at the thought of being discovered. This causes Robert to take it out on his prisoner. Marianne Crawford knows this better than anyone. For two weeks she has been in his power and subjected to his totally paranoid arbitrariness, his phobias, his extreme cruelty and above all his aberrant sexual habits. She keeps a secret diary and describes the hell in which she lives ...
Towako Tamura is unquestionably the leading figure of "Japanese Gutter GORE", a not entirely respectable genre which is nevertheless popular in that country and is rarely published in the West. She is also author of "Hell" and "Captured", both of which will be available in this collection soon.
FROM THE BOOK: After
supper that night I lay on the bed and connected the camera. She was on her knees, tied with her back to the post with no food or drink and with the video of her first time with her owner at full volume in front of her eyes. She
was lovely… She
still had her mouth forced open by the ring, with her elbows stuck up her back
and her shoulders pulled back. She
had her thighs together with her ankles tied to the tops of them and her shoes
tied to her bum. I love tying her
shoes by the heels; it’s a trick that immobilizes her foot and keeps it
decoratively pointed. Delicious! I
zoomed in on her: her eyes were tired and weepy and her saliva was sliding down
her chin … The cord that went under her arms to tie her to the post was
sinking into her flesh and it was stretching her breasts irresistibly.
Her nipples were erect! I
have always said that behind her girlish face, Marianne hides her real nature,
that of a nymphomaniac. She would pay for that too… I decided to go down... The
disguise … The siren … The hosepipe… I remembered that Marianne would be thirsty, very thirsty. When
I was satisfied that she was clean enough and awake, I put a chair in the cage,
I removed the ring from her mouth and tied a coarse rope around her waist, then
I put it between her legs letting it bite cruelly into her sex. I
also put a ruler under her knees. This
seemed to upset her a lot, because she immediately began to twist against the
post in an absurd attempt to ease the weight on her knees… Maybe
the cord and the ruler seem cruel to you, but don’t be fooled, everything was
necessary. It was essential for
Marianne to pay attention to my words … I had important things to say to her
and one way or another she would focus her mind and not be distracted by her
girlish nonsense. I
sat down and pulled the cord to open her cunt. Marianne
whimpered. She always does when I
do that. It seems it’s very
sensitive. ‘Pay attention because I’m not going to repeat what you are about to hear,’ I said solemnly, pulling harder on the cord. ‘Until
now I have tried uselessly to make you understand and accept your new situation.
You are here because I decided to make you my woman, my female, to be my
partner so to speak. But the months
have passed and you still try to not be what I want.
Tell me … What do you think I should do with you?’ Marianne looked imploringly into my eyes. It excites me when she does that… ‘I
am sorry Sir.’ She said with her sweet voice.
‘I love you, I want to serve you, adore you, but I need to rest and eat
… I can’t go on like this, abused and chained all the time.’ ‘Enough!’
I interrupted. ‘If you really
loved me you wouldn’t moan about this nonsense.’ ‘I
promise you Sir. I would do
anything for you. Whatever you
want; but I can’t. I don’t have
the strength!’ I
looked at her, letting my scrutinising gaze cynically wander over her.
Marianne was still trying to get support from the post for her arms …
Just seeing the ruler biting into her knees made mine hurt. I
showed her the needle… ‘If
you would really do anything for me, ask me to stick this on your nip…’ She
looked at me disconcertedly. ‘I’ll
tell you what I have thought of, you and me we are going to make a deal.
Coincidentally Sunday is our anniversary; we have been together for six
months exactly. Marianne
couldn’t avoid pathetically saying ‘My God.’
I went on without paying her any attention. ‘You’ll
be with me one more year, no more no less.
But during this time you will behave how I expect you to.
Because you know what I expect from you, don’t you?’ I asked with
another savage tug on the cord. Marianne lifted her head and looked at me with her tormented eyes. It was pathetic to watch her twisting … The ruler in the knees was a sublime invention… ‘You
… Sir … Sir … expects me to serve … how you … how my Master … likes
it…’ She offered with far too much respect for her to really mean it. ‘That
was before, darling,’ I answered. ‘Now
and first of all I want obedience. You
will do everything I say. What it
is, isn’t important. I will
accept no excuses from the most blind and instant obedience.
Rule number two is respect. My
superiority to you as a person is evident and so you will only speak to me when
I ask you and when I invite you to reply, and you will do it in the third person
and always using my correct title: Sir. The
rest of the time you will bark like the bitch you are.
One bark means yes and two means no.
You need no more to serve me. The
third commandment is loyalty: you will never try to escape or hurt me or betray
the confidence I may have shown in you. And last, but certainly not least, the fourth commandment is
about surrender. You will do all I
ask and you will enjoy it, you will do it pleasingly, complacently.
I will not accept half measures, most of all when your master decides to
cum, do you understand?’ ‘Let’s
try it.’ I
showed her the needle again. ‘Do
you know what this is?’ ‘Woof’. I
gave her a loud slap. ‘Don’t
you know how to talk like a person, stupid?’ She
swallowed… ‘Yes
… Sir…’ She replied her cheeks aflame. ‘That’s
better. And now I’m going to
repeat the question … Do you know what this is?’ ‘A
nail, Sir.’ It
surprised me that she called it a nail, in fact it was big and very thick. ‘You’re
a clever little puppy…’ I congratulated her, ‘and as a prize you’ll ask
your master to stick in your nipple. Don’t
you think that’s great? It will
be irrefutable proof of your obedience … Pain through discipline.
Control of your own emotions…’ Marianne
started to cry disconsolately. I
love it when she cries, it’s … How can I put it?
So womanly … So feminine… ‘Please
… No…’ She sobbed. I
gave her a back-hander this time. Who
did she think she was? ‘Are
you thick? Didn’t I just tell you
that a bitch doesn’t speak it only barks?’ ‘Noooooooooooo!’ I
pulled her nipple outwards holding it between my thumb and forefinger.
I squeezed harder than necessary to sensitise the flesh … I eased in
the nail, just the tip, just the point. Marianne
writhed in her bonds indifferent to the pain in her knees for the first time.
I squeezed more and pulled more, a lot more … I bit my lips until they
bled… ‘Ask
for it or you’ll get fifteen more days locked up in here!’ It
worked. Through sobs and tears, but
it worked… ‘Yes!’
she shouted simply. I
was about to slap her for daring to speak but my hands were busy. ‘AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!’ The
scream was really pathetic and the pleasure, the feeling of liberation that I
felt when I stuck the nail in was something else. There
she was, her breast trembling, her nipple swollen, her face drenched with
tears… A
rivulet of blood was running down her torso.
I crouched down and licked it up. Being
careful not to prick myself… Believe me, owning a slave-girl is a responsibility, but it’s also a real pleasure... A most fascinating and
horrifying story |
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