CHAPTER 1 - Saint Patty's Mishap

It was the morning after our first Valentine's Day together. Megan and I were showering after a long night and an early morning roll in the sack when she blurted it out as a point of fact. "I want a Tattoo." She looked me straight away, her legs spread, her hands to either side of her clit, she was peering over her natural D-Cups. "Right across here where only you and I can enjoy it." She motioned with her hands starting at the center above her clit and ending at the edges where her tan line started. "Nothing too huge, two little colorful metal spinning tops like we had when we were kids growing up." She looked at me jokingly. "Well maybe like YOU had when you were a kid. I have seen them in museums and they made me think of you." She laughed at herself taking an obvious dig at our age difference. "Then maybe or or maybe centered between the tops." I wasn't sure if she was joking or not and she looked at me as I was trying to act surprised. "Come on, don't act so surprised. I am not that naïve. I am just over five foot tall, I weigh 110 soaking wet and I have monster tits." I sat there still acting innocently. "I have heard the bathroom talk. Don't deny that you have never called me that before." I was definitely guilty of the crime but had no intention of admitting it. "What EVER!"

"Okay so let's say you get the tat. It's there for life, not like it's going to go away when you turn forty or have three kids." I felt compelled to act like her Dad for a moment. Her real parents died unexpectedly a few years ago in a plane crash. I never met them, but wanted to make sure she had the guidance needed to avoid regretful decision that we sometimes make early in life. I sometimes felt that is why she was dating me instead of some other twenty something. She always claimed a strong relationship with her Dad. Although we had no physical resemblance, she seemed to take my advice in life matters over anyone else's.

"Absolutely! It's probably a horrible idea." She mused listening to every word I said. "But you are only young once and it's not like it's taking up my entire back. Besides, I am young, hot, gorgeous, and skinny like Barbie. If dynamite comes in small packages, this body could take down a whole building. Maybe getting it now will give me the incentive to live up to the tattoo when I turn fat and forty and spend my days eating BonBon's like Peg Bundy watching soap operas all day and banging the pool boy while my bald hubby toils away at the office."

We both laughed a bit. "That's a pretty picture, makes me want to get hitched right now. Lets fly to Vegas tonight you little minx." I slapped her on her ass as I stepped out of the shower to grab a towel. "So you wanna just run down to the tattoo parlor and have random guy throw down a little ink this morning?"

"Nawh, too easy. It's probably going to be my one and only. And it's such a private one, so I want it to be special. I couldn't stand the thought of voluntarily giving a complete stranger access to my pussy. I was thinking maybe like a bondage scene. Tie me down kicking and screaming while the needle riddles my body with colored dots." She was becoming visibly flushed just talking about it. "If it went down like that, I could always deny it. Give me an automatic way out of an embarrassing situation." She was rubbing herself through her towel. "Think you could set that up Hunny?"

"So that's it. Discussion over; I just need to tie you down and ink you up. I could do that myself right now if you wanted me to. It won't look pretty, but I could do you in the garage this morning, prison style." I slapped her hand away from her crotch. "That's my toy, stop playing with it!"

"My birthday is coming up in June. That will give me time to think it over and chicken out." She was wrapping the towel around her head to dry the rest of her hair as her naked body walked to the bedroom. "Think of it as my Birthday Present. You can tie me down and have your way with me and then mark your conquered territory."

That should have been the end of it, but I caught her a few days later sketching out some designs while watching TV and pressing them up to her panties comparing the size and testing different arrangements. The next day I was playing Poker with my buddies and started talking to David. He ran a tattoo parlor downtown but I only got to hang with him on Poker Nights because he was always running the shop like twenty four hours a day. Consequently Megan had never met him or knew that I had a friend in the business. I told him about her bondage surprise attack on her birthday idea and he thought it was fantastic. That's when Mark piped up about the acreage he just bought outside of town. "I close on it at the end of the month. It literally has no neighbors. There is an old barn set back from the road. We can abduct her, hold her hostage, convince her she is in mortal danger, ink her body and torture her, after a few days when nobody makes her ransom. We let her escape and she gets her little fantasy." It sounded like an easy plan in theory, but I was certain if we pulled it off we were all going to jail.

It was St Patrick's night and we were downtown partying like the Irish do. It was Megan and I and a half-dozen other people from the office. We were drinking green beer, buying shots of Jameson and making royal fools of ourselves. In other words we were having a grand old time. Megan was busy chatting up this cute little art student and her assistant who was meandering through the pub face painting little green leprechauns and pots of gold all over the drunken patrons. She was half way through some leafy four leafy clovers with some old world looking gold coins when I got back to our table. Megan was in her element speaking fake Irish with the best of them as I returned from the bar with a fresh round of drinks. "So how much?"

"How Much? My treat. You get the next round. Who's your new friend?" I pointed to scantily clad co-ed that was painting half of Megan's face with an airbrush, and glitter and various colors to complement the green."

"Thank's Luv. Say hi to Kelly." Kelly looked up from her work and nodded and went right back to her painting. "She's awesome. I was just going through her portfolio; look at some of the stuff she's done." I started thumbing through the pages impressed by the volume and types of work. She had done motorcycles, cars, railroad graffiti, sci-fi make-up, even airbrushed a couple PlayBoy models, although she had snipped out their faces from the before and after so we couldn't see who it was.

"So ask her again." Joe grabbed his drink and motioned to me like it was my turn to speak.

"Ask her what?" I hated feeling lost in a conversation.

"How Much?" Her friend Trina egged me on.

"How much what?" I was thoroughly confused. "I'm sorry did I interrupt your game of Who's on First?"

"Exactly." Joe spoke up again.

"She wants Kelly here to paint her body in true St. Patty's Fashion." Trina spoke up again. "I told her she's drunk but she won't drop it."

Megan then turned to look at me and showed me her painted face. "Look at her work. She and her two friends are working the crowd for tips and would be unlikely to cover the cost of their supplies alone. I want to get up on stage and have them do me from head to toe. If that doesn't earn them some tips. I don't think anything will."

"Naked?" I fired back. Seemed like a logic question.

"She would be in her panties and bra." Kelly corrected me as she returned to finish the right side of Megan's face.

"Panties only." Megan retorted. "I want my tits done to."

"Oh boy, you are drunk." I laughed. You could always tell when Megan was drunk; we were already past the laughing uncontrollably stage. Apparently her inner truck driver showed up as I returned with the latest round. She was probably four drinks from her inner pirate making its appearance. Then it was normally time for a few rounds of shots. Then the inevitable tripping over the nonexistent object on the way to the bathroom where she would normally pass out with a bottle of aspirin spilled on the floor next to her. At least she was predictable.

"Three Hundred." Once Megan set her teeth in something she wasn't happy till she won.

"Megan honey please. You're drunk let it go." I tried to talk some sense into her, but I was no match for her Inner Trucker.

"I am not even sure we have enough materials." You could tell Kelly was flattered but a bit unsure they could even legally do it.

"Four Hundred." Megan kept raising the ante. She wouldn't be happy till she came out on top.

"Dollars? Seriously." I thought this had gone too far but knew it was a mute point.

"And it's late, if we start now I can't even guarantee we can finish before the end of the night." Kelly was salivating as Megan kept raising the bar.

"Seven Fifty and you can keep all the tips." Megan reached in her wallet and pulled out a handful of hundreds.

I went to speak up one last time to put this nonsense to rest. I mean who carries that much cash just to go to the bar. Before I could even open my mouth Kelly beat me to the punch. "SOLD - I will go get the girls and make the arrangements." Kelly swiped the cash from her hand and went to round up the other girls leaving her small tool box of supplies behind. The table was stunned and everyone looked at their watches at once. We had skipped out of work early to get a jump on the crowd and it looked like we were in for the long haul whether we were planning it or not. Next thing we know the Old Man McDougal was up on stage introducing a special feature tonight as the Irish band cleared some room on the stage. Kelly returned to the table to get her box of tools as Megan was being called up on stage. She walked up to the stage as two of the band members lifted Megan to center stage and then helped Kelly, Tracey and Samantha next to her. The three painters were dressed in green T-shirts and tight jeans that had paint stains and smudge marks all over the thighs from wiping their hands or cleaning the tips of the airbrush guns during a paint job. Megan stood between them wearing her four inch sparkling heels that she bought for a costume party a few years ago. The buckles were broken on them, so she had to use a silver chain cut to length to lock them onto her ankles. She would have bought a new pair, but couldn't find a pair that fit as well as these. She had a bright green short skirt and a tight fitting white blouse that accentuated her bust line. Not to mention a few hundred beads from random guys that had been peering down her loosely buttoned top.

When McDougal finished explaining what the girls were going to do tonight, the tip jar started filling before she had even removed her top. The crowd was buying her drinks and kept egging her on and soon she had ripped off her shirt and skirt and was standing on stage in her bra, panties and four inch glittery heels. The girls snagged a couple bottle caps from behind the bar and filled them filled with quick setting glue. They pressed them onto her tits and let them cure while her bra held them in place. Soon all three girls were spraying her with green paint discussing the various details and figures they wanted and where they wanted them and dividing the work between the three artists. When the women removed her lacy bra her nipples and areoles were completely covered by the heavy metal caps. It took the girls right up till one in the morning before they finished. They topped off her outfit with a couple layers of clear coat to make sure the paint would not begin fading too quickly. By the time they had finished their six hours of hard work, the four girls had drank free of charge the whole night and the big antique looking moonshine jar had been emptied at least eight times.

I must admit that Megan looked hotter than ever and was hornier then usual after a fun night of drinking. I congratulated the girls on the incredible paint job and asked them how long it would take for the paint to wear off. "We laid it on fairly thick because we were rushed. The clear coat should help sustain it and keep it from smearing until it soaks in. I am guessing a minimum of a week, no longer than a month." Megan never even thought that she wouldn't be able to simply wash it off in the morning and she was too drunk to realize that she could be stuck as a Saint Painted Day spokes model for up to a month. It didn't matter; Megan was in seventh heaven and was prancing around the bar like a supermodel. There was no way that we were going to drive home that night so I called a Taxi while Megan ran to the restroom. As the bar was starting to empty out Megan realized her house keys and cell phone were still in her car. So she quick dashed out to the car with just her blouse wrapped around her painted body. As she ran out to her car she fumbled with her car fob completely oblivious to the beat up black van that was parked next to her. As she steadied herself against her car door still struggling with her keys the sliding door on the van opened behind her in the dark poorly lit parking lot. She didn't even have a chance to scream as two men reached out and covered her mouth, pulled her into the van, and shut the door and drove off.

Her captors had easily abducted her and delivered her unnoticed to their secret hangout. They had purchased a strong steel cage that had an opening for her head to stick out one end. Her wrists were locked to the bottom corners and her legs were protruding out the back with her thighs shackled to the back of the cage just above her knees. They had stuffed a black rubber inflatable anal plug in her ass and partially inflated it inside her. The drain tube was placed in a metal bucket behind her and the squeeze bulb was lying on top of the metal cage. The partially inflated balloon was held deep inside her and there would be no forcing it out till they removed it. Megan continued sleeping it off for nearly sixteen hours before starting to wake. As she tried to wake from her drunken stupor; she shook her head slowly catching her neck on the grid of bars that encircled her neck. Her head was pounding and she was puking into whatever was in front of her. She was crouched down on all fours with her arms and knees spread wide beneath her. Her face felt sweaty and her eyes were completely blinded. She tried reaching up to see what was blocking her face when her wrists clinked against the cuffs holding them in place. She immediately began to struggle and panic pulling hard against her wrists and legs. Her knees and shoulders ached from supporting her body all night long and she had an incredible urge to take a massive shit. She immediately felt sick and puked again as the alcohol from the night before splashed onto the dirt floor in front of her.

She started low at first and slowly started screaming. "Hello? Hello. Helloo!! Can anyone hear me? Is anyone there? Where am I? Someone? HELP!! PLEASE! Is anyone there?"

"SILENCE!" Her screams were met by an electronically synthesized voice that sounded more intimidating then it should. "Nobody can hear you. We've made sure of that. You can scream all you want and no one will hear you." Megan didn't want to believe them and began screaming again at the top of her lungs. She screamed until she puked leaving a vile taste in her mouth. The voice calmly replied. "I said Silence." Then it slapped her across the face. The slap shook her back to reality and she was soon starting to breathe heavily. "You are mine now bitch. Disobey me again and you'll get much worse than a slap on the face." He slapped her a second time to her other cheek. Her whole face was burning beneath the heavy black rubber mask that they had pulled over her skull.

"What do you want from me?" Megan meekly replied feeling defeated and trapped blindly inside some type of metal contraption that she could not see.

"I want money. And you have it. You were tossing it around like confetti in the bar last night and I want it all. Your ransom is set to $500,000 you better start thinking quickly who can get it here the fastest cause we aren't known for our patience." He slapped her a third time to make sure he had her attention. "This isn't our first rodeo, the sooner you can arrange the cash the more likely you are to escape with your fingers, your hands, your feet, your life." He slapped her a fourth time; turning her into a sobbing mess."

She started piecing together the details from the bar the night before. Standing on stage. Getting painted green. Running out to her car basically naked. Then it all went blank. She could feel the cool breeze blowing through her crotch as she rattled around in her shackles. She must be locked in this cage naked in front of this pervert crawling around like a dog. All she could smell was the strong scent of rubber that was stretched around her head. "Five Hundred Thousand Dollars? That's half a million! That's more than my condo. Five times as much! I can't get it. I still have a year of college left. Where am I going to find that kind of money?"

"It's not up to you to find the money. It's up to you to know someone who can find the money. You really have the easy job here. All you have to do is stay put and think of a millionaire." He squeezed the bulb inflating her ass a little more to help emphasize his control over her. She shrieked at the odd sensation between her cheeks having never experienced anal before. "If you don't find somebody in the next 24 hours who thinks you are worth half a million dollars, I will find somebody willing to buy you for half a million. I have done it before, you won't be the first." He gave another squeeze as she shrieked again and pounded her fists on the floor in response to the pain in her butt. "You have ten days. Each day you fail. I take a finger and I will even let you chose the finger. Perhaps you will give up your ring finger first since nobody will want to marry you once I get through with you." As he said this he pulled on one of her fingers and dragged the dull back edge of a knife over her finger as if he was cutting it off. She screamed louder as he pressed into her finger harder not even leaving a mark on her delicate flesh. Trapped like she was; no vision and limited senses made every threat seem real. She literally thought she could feel the knife slicing through her flesh as she screamed and begged for her life. As if on cue her phone rang. "Who is Blake?"

Megan was in tears and sobbing uncontrollable. She could barely speak and mumble the words as she frantically felt her fingers checking for a missing digit or a trail of blood. "That's my boyfriend. He'll know what to do. Give me my phone."

Her face was smacked hard yet again as the phone continued ringing. "Learn some manors bitch." He slapped her again. "Your existence here on this planet is optional. Not mandatory. We can cut you up and bury you alive and nobody will ever find you. Now, care to rephrase?" He squeezed the bulb again to emphasize his point.

Megan was in shambles now. "Yes sir. I am very sorry." She moaned and tried to collect herself as he pumped the bulb again. "Can I please talk to him? I just want to help you get your money." Her body tensed as he pumped the bulb again. "I promise." She shuddered as the increasing pain inflating her ass was preventing her from concentrating.

"No funny business or it will be the last phone call you ever take." The electronic voice held the phone to her ear as she sobbed into the phone.

"Blake. Oh thank god it's you. I've been kidnapped, at the bar last night. They want money! They want to chop me up or sell me for sex. Please you have to help me. Please Blake Blake!" He took the phone away.

"Blake my boy, is this your pretty little bitch I have here?" The voice waited for a few then continued. "The price is half a million undamaged. If you want to bargain for limbs, I can knock off a zero for the cost of maybe a wrist. Two zeros will cost you an arm and a leg - LITERALLY! If you want to settle for fifty bucks I can drop her hands and feet in the mail tonight." Blake could hear Megan screaming in the back ground as he heard another male voice yell in the background. "SHUT UP SLUT!" He pumped the bulb several times before a loud resounded through the room as screams turned to crying.

"I'll get the money, please don't hurt her." Then the phone went dead. Twenty four hours had past. Megan was over her hangover but was still stuck in a crawling position as she was forced to drink water and some type of tasteless slurry substance. They had been grinding up food in a blender and mixing it with ExLax to help loosen her stool so her enemas would go easier. Her cage was sitting on the dirt floor of the old barn and she was forced to piss on herself as they kept her trapped in her cage. As the laxative worked its magic she could hear and smell the contents of her ass splash into the shallow metal bucket. My phone rang right at six o'clock, it was Megan's.

"Day one Blake. When can I get my money?" No informal greeting. No Bullshit. The electronic voice went straight to business.

"I don't have it. But I can get it. I know I can. I just need more time." I spoke into the phone frantically to no avail.

"Time is one thing you don't have. She is already up for sale on the international scene. A beauty like this will be gone in no time for high dollar. If you don't have the cash, I will find someone who does before I have to inflict too much damage. She'll be in a box on a cargo plane bound for Egypt by the week's end. Well not all of her. I will send you a finger to remember her by." Click. Megan was in the background yelling. Her fingers were clenched in a ball as she begged for more time. The voice came over to her and struggled to pry open her hand so he could begin removing one of her fingers. Her begging got worse as her fingers grew weaker. Just as she was about to lose the struggle another man crept up behind her and sat on her legs forcing her feet into the dirt. He grabbed her heel still locked on her feet holding it into the dirt. "Maybe we should just cut your Achilles? Could you still walk in heels without an Achilles?" She could feel the metal blade the back of her ankle as he began sliding the blade back and forth. She could feel the dulled edge of the serrated blade dig into her flesh. "After a couple days of being cut, that poor little tendon will slither back up your calf and you may never walk again." He used the tip of the knife and dragged it slowly up her calf as if the tendon was already shrinking. "Your poor foot will just dangle off the end of your leg like a water balloon."

"No please no, please. Don't cut me please. Beat me. Shave my head whip me raw I'll do anything." Megan was desperate. The thought of losing a finger or an arm and being left to bleed out in this dirty cage had frightened her beyond all limits. Suddenly her ass rang out in pain again as her mind shut down and she had to focus on the pain to avoid passing out.

"Everytime you talk, I squeeze. This inflatable devil has ripped girls twice your size in half with hardly a second thought. It could easily split a hot little number like you clear up your spine so shut it." He let his words sink in for a bit then continued. "Very well. Anything it is. You are worth more selectively damaged anyways." She could hear him undo his zipper on his pants as he stood in front of her. "I always like to test out the goods before I sell them. If you so much as leave a mark on my penis I will pull every tooth out of your mouth and you will drink soup and jello for the rest of your days. I will cut off one of those lovely tits of yours as well for good measure." He reached through the cage running the back edge of the blade harmlessly around the base of her breast. Megan felt certain he had cut a deep slit around her tit as the beads of sweat felt like blood dripping off her nipple. "Let's call it n eye for an eye so to speak." She couldn't stop crying but dared not scratch or bite his penis despite how much she loathed this bastard that kept her trapped like an animal. He pounded her face in and out as she gagged on his cock and rammed her head and shoulders hard against the bars around her neck. The rubber mask around her face was filling with tears after he shot his load into her mouth. "Suck it all up and swallow it whole. Perhaps we can save a little money and keep you alive on cum alone and we can stop wasting time blending last night's leftovers. Maybe we can cut that worthless shithead Blake a discount." The electronic voice backed away from her face leaving Megan gagging and gasping for air. As she tried to catch her breath she couldn't help but notice that her pussy was dripping wet. She had been kidnapped, locked up, had something crammed in her ass, her face was just raped and somehow her body found pleasure in it all. "Boys; Megan here needs cash and she's willing to work for it. She's good, she swallows, but she needs more practice. BJ's are twenty bucks a piece. Price is half a million if you want to take her home." She couldn't tell how many guys were in the room, but by the time nightfall came and everyone went to sleep, she would have earned at least three hundred bucks towards her release. Her jaw was aching and she had trouble sleeping without strangling herself on the walls of the cage.

The boys were up early the next day and they all stopped in to check on their captive and gave a complimentary squeeze on her anal plug to make sure she was wide awake. She heard at least three voices in the conversation, but they all had the same synthesized sound to them. They could have been male, female, Chinese, German, they all sounded the same. The phone rang several times throughout the day. They kept giving details of her body, describing her in the most intimate of details. They must have been offering a price, because he was counter offering and haggling with them and would eventually hang up. After every few calls the ring leader would come over and jam his cock in her mouth insulting her that she wasn't worth the cell phone minutes and ramming his penis deep down her throat while racking her shoulders hard against the metal cage walls. Occasionally she was forced to blow the other captors as they continually inflated her ass while he haggled on the phone over her future. Her life, her very existence, it was all being tossed around like used car parts on EBay.

It must have been late in the day as the ring leader finished in her mouth yet again. "Let's see what your boy Blake has come up with to make you a free woman. Actually, since you have been locked up here doing nothing you've actually earned a tidy thousand dollars towards your release." She couldn't believe that she had sucked off these bastards fifty times in the last 24 hours. She had lost count by lunch time, but she was certain her jaw ached like she was a five dollar whore. "A thousand bucks should spare you a fingernail. Ever had your fingernail ripped off? Boy does it hurt. It hurts worse than death! Takes years to heal and it never looks right even decades later." Megan kept her fingers clenched tight into a ball. She loved painting her nails and generally kept them trimmed to just under an inch long. The thought of having twisted gnarled unhealthy fingernails was unbearable. "Blake, about God damn time you picked up! Don't you want to talk to your baby? Ask her what kind of day she had? Find out what she had for Lunch? Breakfast? Midnight Snack? It's Day Two Asshole, she's getting a lot of hits on Sex Slave Dot Com. It's not very often that an all American Blonde bimbo body painted to the hilt shows up on the scene. I have taken over twenty five phone calls from interested parties. I got three maybe four rich pigs out there that I think have the funds to go the distance. Should I add your name to the list? How much money you bringing to the table?" He put the phone on speaker so Megan could hear Blake whining over tough economy and overdue credit cards and bank loans. Soon Megan started begging to talk to him only to be told to shut up. They pumped her ass several times reminding her of their rules, but she couldn't stop. She started yelling for her boyfriend and begging him to hurry up. She certainly didn't earn herself any favors, but she did garner another slap across her face to keep her quiet. The electric voice took Blake off speaker and interrupted him. "Blake, Blake, Blake. It's your first kidnapping isn't it? I can tell; I'm an old pro at this, don't you worry, you're in good hands. Even your little slut here has been making money on the side. She's getting better at it. She's made about a grand. I will mail you the finger nail she just paid for so you can keep it safe since you can't keep your girl safe." The electric voice paused for a minute. "Calm down my brother, listen up. Now is not the time for irrational behavior. How much have you got your hands on?" He listened as Blake tried to explain to him. "A hundred? A hundred! Between your hundred and her grand you guys are a fifth of the way there. Tell me you mean a hundred grand and not just bar money for the night!" The voice paused again and interrupted Blake. "Excellent. You have one-hundred grand. That's a tidy sum of money. That will get you an Arm and a fingernail. Yo' Guys, fire up the chain saw! Blake my Boy, you want the Left arm or the Right?" Megan started yelling for Blake as she could hear someone behind her trying to pull start a gas motor. Soon the engine fired up and she started screaming at the top of her lungs. The sounds and smell of a two-stroke chainsaw is unmistakable. The voice turned off the cell phone as Blake was screaming for them to stop from the other end.

She could hear the saw getting closer as one of the henchmen moved it to her ear so she could smell the gas and hot exhaust fumes near her rubberized head. He revved the motor several times so she could hear the chain running along the cutting bar of the saw. She was screaming for him to stop. She was begging for them to spare her body as he brought the chain to her back side. She could hear the metal teeth catch on the bars as they tried to insert it thru the top of the cage. She could feel the hot exhaust on her back as her voice was raw from yelling over the sound of the saw. Henchman One spoke to Henchmen Two instructing him to open the cage. She could hear the key in the lock as the saw returned to idle. The exhaust was wafting in her face as she was hyperventilating at the thought of losing an arm. He lifted the cage top and let it slam to the sides of the cage. She was free, sort of. Henchmen One revved the motor while he stood on top of her in the cage with her ribs between his knees. "Left or Right?" Megan was sobbing at the idea of being forced to chose the arm she was about to lose. "Left or Right? Answer me Slut!" Her mind was spinning. She wouldn't chose. She couldn't chose. "TELL ME WHICH ARM TO CUT OFF OR I AM TAKING THEM BOTH!" He revved the chainsaw louder and louder grinding the chain on the cage showering her back with hot sparks. It was all part of the show. This was a special saw in which they had replaced the toothed saw chain with a harmless bicycle chain and had no sharp edges at all. It couldn't cut through butter let alone take off an arm. The most it would do is leave a narrow rug burn type scar that would sting and burn for days. She finally caved and whispered feeling totally defeated. "Tell me like you mean it!" she said slightly louder but still exhausted. "I can't hear you wench! WHICH ARM?" she couldn't believe she could even mouth the words. "Too late bitch, I'm taking them both, maybe you won't hesitate next time." She screamed as the blade of the saw came down and was ripping into her skin on the back of her right shoulder blade. They used a special solution of honey mixed with red dye, Cajun sauce, itching powder and diluted acid. It wouldn't hurt the skin; much, but it would look and feel like real blood and burn like Hell as if they had actually cut open her flesh. Her screams were real, blood curdling, and her panic was beyond belief. Her arm was getting cut off, she could feel it. Suddenly the phone rang and the Ring Leader shouted to "SHUT IT DOWN!!"