Whippett's 3rd assignment

[Dragon's muse]

Craft a scene/chapter/story within the following paramaters.

*2 characters -- gender your choice.
*Set in a doughnut shop at three in the morning.
*Discussing the execution of a plan that is immoral/unethical/illegal, that also has dire consequences if they fail.
*Written in dialogue only.

Happy writing and smooches!:wave:

[Mad Lews]

And they said Dean was mean....

[Dragon's muse]

And they said Dean was mean....

Not mean, challenging, encouraging mentees to strive for the highest.

:284:

[Whippett]

dear grammar muse - the word is protege - mentee is an abomination created by the popular press - kiss and spanks - :D

[Whippett]

tough one - lol - lets see how the muse strikes :D

[Dragon's muse]

dear grammar muse - the word is protege - mentee is an abomination created by the popular press - kiss and spanks - :D

i prefer mentee. i call myself a mentor, therefore those for whom i am mentor, are my mentees. Which is infinitely better than being a manatee.

[H Dean]

Being a mentee is better 'n' being a Newfie, at least.

[Whippett]

Hmmmmm - this one is going to be nasty :D - not the assignment - got a rough outline already - but the story - the little midnight beast deep inside likes the assignment - a lot :D

[Whippett]

Being a mentee is better 'n' being a Newfie, at least.

Lol - gotta teach you to Screech Dean - that'll change your mind about The Rock.

[Whippett]

i prefer mentee. i call myself a mentor, therefore those for whom i am mentor, are my mentees. Which is infinitely better than being a manatee.

Language is a living thing - but you Americans really do come up with some abortions and pass them off as words - lol.

Protege is a perfectly fine (and established) word. And the root word gives the correct feeling for how a mentor behaves (or should behave) as well. Ah well.

I'll wait until I become a mentor myself - then crucify anyone who refers to him/herself as my mentee. Dean can hold the nails.

mentee, prioritize, even heard one broacaster talking about broadcastize - abortions - lol - right up there with ez (for easy) and nite (instead of night). Samuel Webster must be spinning in his grave ***weg***

[Whippett]

Hard payback


"Hey Fred, wazzup" Jack growled, letting the glass door bang shut behind him. "Lemme grab a coffee and a doughnut."

Fred looked up from the dregs in his cup, nodded "No names, bro," he hissed, glacing at the two old men sitting at the doughnut shop counter, talking with the counter girl.

Leaning on the counter, Jack flirted with the counter girl "Hey sweetcheeks, got milk in those jugs? Hows about a large double double with your fresh milk? And a cruller, babe."

The tired, used-up blonde sneered her reply, "Crawl back into the gutter, lowlife. That'll be three-fifty."

"Can't blame a guy for trying, sweetcheeks," he flipped back, and slapped the change on the counter. Picking up his coffee and doughnut, Jack ambled back to the table.

"So bud, what's the hairy deal. Whydya get me out here at three-fucking-a-m for a fucking doughnut and coffee?" Jack shot.

"Keep your fucking voice down, man." Fred snarled, looking around. He leaned forward and hissed intently. "Got an offer worth big bucks for us if we pull it off. Lotta risk, but, man, the pay is good."

Jack sipped his coffee, grimaced at its bitter taste, and whispered back, "Okay, risk I can handle for the right payday. How much we talking about?"

Fred paused, thinking for a minute how much he could undercut Jack's share... "Fifty grand. Each," he replied softly.

"Woof!" Jack leaned back in his chair, "that's some payday. Who we gotta ice?" He took another sip of his coffee, and leaned forward, intent as Fred spoke.

"Not that kind of ice, bud, much sweeter deal this time," Fred whispered. "You know those two little blondes who moved into Lenny's old place?"

"What, the 16 year-old twins?" Jack spoke thickly, "Yeah man, always parading their sweet tits and cunts with the blinds up."

"They're 18, shit-head" Fred responded flatly. "I checked them out. Yeah. Them. You ain't the only dude who wants to fuck their brains out. Stupid ice-maidens teased the wrong dude. Laughed at him when he made an offer they shouldn't have refused."

"Who?" Jack asked quietly.

"No names, ass-hole!" Fred spat back, "But he's got the money to make 'em pay, and pay real hard."

Jack nodded, putting on his business face, "Okay, what's the deal? Rough em up? What?"

"I said pay real hard, shit-face." Fred snarled, "Pay with their bodies for the rest of their lives." He sat back, eyed Jack intently for a moment, then leaned forward again. "Dude's leaving the details to us. He doesn't care what condition the bitches are in when he gets 'em. He just wants 'em broke so bad what he's gonna do will seem like heaven to 'em. He's gonna use the little cunts, train 'em and sell them. We get to break 'em and deliver them to him."

Jack whistled, then glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. He leaned forward, smiling, "We get to do anything, anything we want?"

"Yeah!" Fred leered back. "Any fucking thing we want. And we get paid too!"

"Oh man," Jack said thickly, his eyes hard and bright, "I got just the place for that. You know the old packing house on Elm? Just got hired to watch the place, keep the street people out. Dude wants me to live there, make the place look busy." He smiled, like a shark with dinner a bite away. "It's big, it's empty, no one goes there. And no-one will hear them scream!"

"Perfect," Fred hissed. "Here's the plan. Most weekends the sluts go away. I dunno, home to the country maybe. If we grab 'em Thursday night when they have the Friday off, no one will miss 'em for three days. Gives us time to get 'em and stash 'em before anyone starts looking for 'em." His voice coarsened with lust, "Dude don't care how long it takes us to break 'em either. Waddaya figure? Three months of fucking with the little cunts?"

"Oh yeah man," smirked Jack heavily, "Give 'em time to heal from the beatings too. I want to beat 'em til they beg to be fucked just to get away from the beatings. Turn 'em into total pain and cum whores." He smiled, a predator with prey in sight. "Okay, man, I still have a key to Lenny's place. Landlord's cheap, won't replace locks between tenants. I can watch 'em to see when they have their next Friday off. If it's this week, we gonna have to wait two weeks to snatch 'em." he licked his lips in anticipation. "That gives us time to prepare the place..."

Fred cut in, "Yeah, we need a couple of good cages. Something cramped, thick bars. And we need some staples in the walls, chain, shackles, toys." He laughed softly, bitter edged, hard and spiky. "Lenny still works for that welder. He owes me. I can get him to make two cages. Saw a nice design in a vid last night. Chick's butt was up against the bars, with a dildo up her ass and cunt, and her head through a hole in the front so she could blow her trainer."

"Get Lenny to put 'em on wheels," Jack rode over Fred's voice intently, "We need a van to move the whores. Grab 'em, stuff them in the cages for transport. Can you get a van? My wheels are too recognizable to use." Fred nodded. "We get into their apartment before they get home from work. I still have a bit of chloroform from out last job. We knock em out with it. Keep 'em out til it gets dark and quiet. Then cage them in the van." Jack leered, "We can play with 'em while they're out."

"Park the van a couple blocks away," Fred interjected, "Go get it when it's time to move 'em to the packing house. You sure no one's gonna go there?"

"Yeah," Jack nodded, "Dude bought it to redevelop into condos, gonna be a year before they start. Okay, we got cages and a van. I know just where to keep 'em in the building. Nice thick concrete walls. I'll get the hardware for the walls, and the chain. Say, does this guy cover expenses?"

Fred nodded.

Jack went on, "I can get the staples fitted in the walls and floor this weekend. I got the whips and crops covered too. Pick up some buggy whips, ok?" He paused for Fred's assent "We need a couple cases of dog food and a couple of bowls. Heh, saw two in the pet store that are perfect. Got 'Bitch' printed on 'em."

"What about crapping and pissing?" Fred interjected.

Jack sneered "There a big drain where they going, and water. They can fucking shit and piss in their cages. We just hose 'em down when the mess gets too bad." He leered, "Humilate 'em, treat 'em like cattle. Beat them daily. Make 'em fuck each other. And fuck 'em ourselves whenever we want!"

Fred and Jack both sat back, exchanged hard smiles.

"Break 'em down so far they never find up," Fred smirked. "Okay, here's the plan. I get the cages and van for the next time they have Friday off. You get bowls, cases of dog food and set up the dungeon. Staples in the floor, walls. Any pillars we can stretch 'em between?" At Jack's nod he went on "Okay - so staples in the pillars too - so we can spread-eagle them. Make the installations permanent - chain already in place. Fuck - we need a bunch of locks all keyed alike too. I'll get 'em. I know a place.. Thursday night we do it..."

Jack interjected intensely, "you get the van and park it a couple blocks over. We meet at noon. I let us into their apartment. We toss the place - grab some dirty panties to use to knock 'em out and gag 'em. Better have some rope to tie 'em too. We chloroform them, strip 'em, tie 'em tight and hard. Mmmmmm always wanted to throat-fuck a knocked out cunt." Jack licked his lips in anticipation, shook himself.

"When it gets quiet, you go get the van. We cover the sluts with something - sheets maybe - haul 'em down to the van and stuff them in the cages. We'll keep 'em gagged. What say a dildo in ass, cunt and mouth?" Fred nodded, as Jack went on, "We try and time it so they come to when we get to the packing house. I want those whores awake when we wheel their cages in. Give 'em a hard ass fucking each and leave 'em caged. Maybe all day." Jack smiled again.

"No speech, " Fred added. "We don't speak to them at all, ever. Just use 'em like meat. First day, let 'em see the dog food put in their bowls..."

"Piss on the food when we put it in the bowls. They'll eat when they get hungry enough, piss and dog food will taste great when they get hungry enough. Let 'em know they're just dirty little cunts - fit to be used and nothing else." Jack said flatly.

Fred nodded again "Yeah," he breathed, "Lock a long chain around their necks while they're caged. Drag em out - do one first - chain her up - whip her - fuck her - make the other watch. Then do the same to the second. Leave 'em chained and spread."

"Take turns," Jack grunted, "keep 'em awake for a couple of days, maybe a week, only taken down to eat - spread and whipped and fucked whenever they start to nod off." he leered. "Break their fucking minds with pain, with humiliation. Fuck their cunts and asses till they beg for it. Make 'em learn to beg to fuck each other."

"Make 'em learn to beg to hurt each other," Fred hissed, "Take 'em to where they want to use each other as we use them. Make 'em want to do the other just to get away from the pain herself. Man, make sure they can see each other when you set up the pillar positions - so they can see the shit dribbling down each others legs, can see the whipping and the pain the other feels. Can see the humiliation!"

Both men leaned back, smiled, the darkness behind their eyes alive with malice. "Yeah, man, lets do it. I got some ideas for those two bitches. After a week of being spread-eagled and used we can get creative. Heh, turn into fucking pain and fuck toys. It'll be a sweet three months, man, maybe longer." Both men grinned silently.

"Man," Fred added quietly, "we better make sure no one traces the van to us, or to the girls. They gotta disappear completely. With my record, yours too buddy, if we get caught we gonna be someone's bitch in the pen for life." He thought for a few moments. "you still got those clean tags from Arizona?."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, never used them. They're clean. They'll be good. Put those tags on before you drive into the neighbourhood and park. We can change back to the real ones after we get away from there. We can ditch the other tags and the keys in the river after we dump the sluts at the packing house. And if we go in and out through the back way, no one's gonna see us enter the building. Or leave. No one knew Lenny had a key to the back door of the building. Fuck, the dumb cunt didn't know he had it either, and he's forgot I got a set of keys."

"Ah fuck it, we'll get away with this. It's worth it to mess with those two bitches. And we get paid too," Jack added, standing. "Sweet! I'm goin' home man, gotta get my strength up for those cunts."

"Gimme a ride, will ya man, my wheels are broke right now." Fred asked, pulling on his coat. "We can clean up the details when we know the sluts' schedule."

Both men smiled again, and pushed through the door into the darkness.

[Dragon's muse]

Language is a living thing - but you Americans really do come up with some abortions and pass them off as words - lol.

Protege is a perfectly fine (and established) word. And the root word gives the correct feeling for how a mentor behaves (or should behave) as well. Ah well.

I'll wait until I become a mentor myself - then crucify anyone who refers to him/herself as my mentee. Dean can hold the nails.

mentee, prioritize, even heard one broacaster talking about broadcastize - abortions - lol - right up there with ez (for easy) and nite (instead of night). Samuel Webster must be spinning in his grave ***weg***

Are you aware -- please understand i mean this in the nicest possible way -- of how much of an anal retentive, control freak you Brits and Newfies seem like when you have these agonies over a simple difference in spelling.

Americans pronounce and spell things differently. Get over it. It's been over two hundred years since independence; we won it fair and square. That gives us the right to spell things any way we damn well please.

Just because you lot are rigid and resistant to change, doesn't mean that's the best way to be. Adaption is necessary to survival.

*end of rant*

Thank you for your kind attention and the use of the hall.

*stepping gracefully off the soapbox, hips swaying gently from side to side*

[Whippett]

Are you aware -- please understand i mean this in the nicest possible way -- of how much of an anal retentive, control freak you Brits and Newfies seem like when you have these agonies over a simple difference in spelling.

Americans pronounce and spell things differently. Get over it. It's been over two hundred years since independence; we won it fair and square. That gives us the right to spell things any way we damn well please.

Just because you lot are rigid and resistant to change, doesn't mean that's the best way to be. Adaption is necessary to survival.

*end of rant*

Thank you for your kind attention and the use of the hall.

*stepping gracefully off the soapbox, hips swaying gently from side to side*

you may have beaten the Brits 200 years ago - But we whipped your Yankee asses and sent them home again in tears in the war of 1812 - lol! And it was Canadians who pulled the pan out of the fire for you Yanks at Omaha Beach.

I figure that gives us some bragging rights!

Besides - if you insist you speak English, then it should be the language used by the majority of English speakers around the world ***weg***. Now, if you want to concede you speak and write Usian, not English, I'll concede your right to butcher your language any way you see fit!

Hehehe - don't you just love language nazis Rose :D

[H Dean]

USA=Superpower. We own English and the world if we want to. It's by our grace that Canada even exists. Don't make me invade, man!

[Dragon's muse]

you may have beaten the Brits 200 years ago - But we whipped your Yankee asses and sent them home again in tears in the war of 1812 - lol! And it was Canadians who pulled the pan out of the fire for you Yanks at Omaha Beach.

I figure that gives us some bragging rights!

Besides - if you insist you speak English, then it should be the language used by the majority of English speakers around the world ***weg***. Now, if you want to concede you speak and write Usian, not English, I'll concede your right to butcher your language any way you see fit!

Hehehe - don't you just love language nazis Rose :D

No territory changed hands in the War of 1812, so it really doesn't apply.
We speak American English.
You don't see us getting our lingerie in a half-hitch because you spell 'honor' and 'favor' most inefficiently. Keystrokes, my good man, we must conserve keystrokes.

[Whippett]

ummmmmm - up the page Rose - you skipped right by the story :D

[thrall]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!

I .........KNEW..........that there was a writer in there!!!!!! *wink*

[Whippett]

thanks sweets :D

[Mad Lews]

I'll wait until I become a mentor myself - then crucify anyone who refers to him/herself as my mentee. Dean can hold the nails.

mentee, prioritize, even heard one broacaster talking about broadcastize - abortions - lol - right up there with ez (for easy) and nite (instead of night). Samuel Webster must be spinning in his grave ***weg***

Dearest Whippetted one,

Don't count on Dean to hold the nails, he gets squeamish at the sight of a little blood.

As your mentor might say. "L A Z come, L A Z go."

His Madness

[Dragon's muse]

ummmmmm - up the page Rose - you skipped right by the story :D

i'll get to it first thing Monday morning. i take weekends off from reading and reviewing writing assignments for my real world mentees, and i see no reason to make an exception for online mentees.

[thrall]

OK, Whip.......now you have to finish the story..........*weg*

[Aussiegirl1]

I loved it, even if you did go to a deep, dark place!

Well done and I think it won't be long till I have you up with me in level 2, that is if Rose can bear to let you go! lol

[Dragon's muse]

Nicely done. Dialogue could be punched up a bit to give more distinctive characterization, but even for me that would be a second draft thing. A couple of minor nits, but mostly just that whole archaic punctuating quotes you Cannies cling to.

i'm done with you. Off to level II with you for Aussiegirl to have her wicked way with you.


Hard payback


"Hey Fred, wazzup?" Jack growled, letting the glass door bang shut behind him. "Lemme grab a coffee and a doughnut."

Fred looked up from the dregs in his cup, nodded "No names, bro," he hissed, glacing at the two old men sitting at the doughnut shop counter, talking with the counter girl.

Leaning on the counter, Jack flirted with the counter girl, "Hey sweetcheeks, got milk in those jugs? Hows about a large double double with your fresh milk? And a cruller, babe."

The tired, used-up blonde sneered her reply, "Crawl back into the gutter, lowlife. That'll be three-fifty."

"Can't blame a guy for trying, sweetcheeks," he flipped back, and slapped the change on the counter. Picking up his coffee and doughnut, Jack ambled back to the table.

"So bud, what's the hairy deal. Whydya get me out here at three-fucking-a-m for a fucking doughnut and coffee?" Jack shot.

"Keep your fucking voice down, man." Fred snarled, looking around. He leaned forward and hissed intently. "Got an offer worth big bucks for us if we pull it off. Lotta risk, but, man, the pay is good."

Jack sipped his coffee, grimaced at its bitter taste, and whispered back, "Okay, risk I can handle for the right payday. How much we talking about?"

Fred paused, thinking for a minute how much he could undercut Jack's share... "Fifty grand. Each," he replied softly.

"Woof!" Jack leaned back in his chair, "that's some payday. Who we gotta ice?" He took another sip of his coffee, and leaned forward, intent as Fred spoke.

"Not that kind of ice, bud, much sweeter deal this time," Fred whispered. "You know those two little blondes who moved into Lenny's old place?"

"What, the 16 year-old twins?" Jack spoke thickly, "Yeah man, always parading their sweet tits and cunts with the blinds up."

"They're 18, shit-head," Fred responded flatly. "I checked them out. Yeah. Them. You ain't the only dude who wants to fuck their brains out. Stupid ice-maidens teased the wrong dude. Laughed at him when he made an offer they shouldn't have refused."

"Who?" Jack asked quietly.

"No names, ass-hole!" Fred spat back, "But he's got the money to make 'em pay, and pay real hard."

Jack nodded, putting on his business face, "Okay, what's the deal? Rough em up? What?"

"I said pay real hard, shit-face." Fred snarled, "Pay with their bodies for the rest of their lives." He sat back, eyed Jack intently for a moment, then leaned forward again. "Dude's leaving the details to us. He doesn't care what condition the bitches are in when he gets 'em. He just wants 'em broke so bad what he's gonna do will seem like heaven to 'em. He's gonna use the little cunts, train 'em and sell them. We get to break 'em and deliver them to him."

Jack whistled, then glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. He leaned forward, smiling, "We get to do anything, anything we want?"

"Yeah!" Fred leered back. "Any fucking thing we want. And we get paid too!"

"Oh man," Jack said thickly, his eyes hard and bright, "I got just the place for that. You know the old packing house on Elm? Just got hired to watch the place, keep the street people out. Dude wants me to live there, make the place look busy." He smiled, like a shark with dinner a bite away. "It's big, it's empty, no one goes there. And no-one will hear them scream!"

"Perfect," Fred hissed. "Here's the plan. Most weekends the sluts go away. I dunno, home to the country maybe. If we grab 'em Thursday night when they have the Friday off, no one will miss 'em for three days. Gives us time to get 'em and stash 'em before anyone starts looking for 'em." His voice coarsened with lust, "Dude don't care how long it takes us to break 'em either. Waddaya figure? Three months of fucking with the little cunts?"

"Oh yeah man," smirked Jack heavily, "Give 'em time to heal from the beatings too. I want to beat 'em til they beg to be fucked just to get away from the beatings. Turn 'em into total pain and cum whores." He smiled, a predator with prey in sight. "Okay, man, I still have a key to Lenny's place. Landlord's cheap, won't replace locks between tenants. I can watch 'em to see when they have their next Friday off. If it's this week, we gonna have to wait two weeks to snatch 'em." he licked his lips in anticipation. "That gives us time to prepare the place..."

Fred cut in, "Yeah, we need a couple of good cages. Something cramped, thick bars. And we need some staples in the walls, chain, shackles, toys." He laughed softly, bitter edged, hard and spiky. "Lenny still works for that welder. He owes me. I can get him to make two cages. Saw a nice design in a vid last night. Chick's butt was up against the bars, with a dildo up her ass and cunt, and her head through a hole in the front so she could blow her trainer."

"Get Lenny to put 'em on wheels," Jack rode over Fred's voice intently, "We need a van to move the whores. Grab 'em, stuff them in the cages for transport. Can you get a van? My wheels are too recognizable to use." Fred nodded. "We get into their apartment before they get home from work. I still have a bit of chloroform from out last job. We knock em out with it. Keep 'em out til it gets dark and quiet. Then cage them in the van." Jack leered, "We can play with 'em while they're out."

"Park the van a couple blocks away," Fred interjected, "Go get it when it's time to move 'em to the packing house. You sure no one's gonna go there?"

"Yeah," Jack nodded, "Dude bought it to redevelop into condos, gonna be a year before they start. Okay, we got cages and a van. I know just where to keep 'em in the building. Nice thick concrete walls. I'll get the hardware for the walls, and the chain. Say, does this guy cover expenses?"

Fred nodded.

Jack went on, "I can get the staples fitted in the walls and floor this weekend. I got the whips and crops covered too. Pick up some buggy whips, ok?" He paused for Fred's assent "We need a couple cases of dog food and a couple of bowls. Heh, saw two in the pet store that are perfect. Got 'Bitch' printed on 'em."

"What about crapping and pissing?" Fred interjected.

Jack sneered "There a big drain where they going, and water. They can fucking shit and piss in their cages. We just hose 'em down when the mess gets too bad." He leered, "Humilate 'em, treat 'em like cattle. Beat them daily. Make 'em fuck each other. And fuck 'em ourselves whenever we want!"

Fred and Jack both sat back, exchanged hard smiles.

"Break 'em down so far they never find up," Fred smirked. "Okay, here's the plan. I get the cages and van for the next time they have Friday off. You get bowls, cases of dog food and set up the dungeon. Staples in the floor, walls. Any pillars we can stretch 'em between?" At Jack's nod he went on "Okay - so staples in the pillars too - so we can spread-eagle them. Make the installations permanent - chain already in place. Fuck - we need a bunch of locks all keyed alike too. I'll get 'em. I know a place.. Thursday night we do it..."

Jack interjected intensely, "y(Y)ou get the van and park it a couple blocks over. We meet at noon. I let us into their apartment. We toss the place - grab some dirty panties to use to knock 'em out (How on earth will they use dirty panties to knock them out?) and gag 'em. Better have some rope to tie 'em too. We chloroform them, strip 'em, tie 'em tight and hard. Mmmmmm always wanted to throat-fuck a knocked out cunt." Jack licked his lips in anticipation, shook himself.

"When it gets quiet, you go get the van. We cover the sluts with something - sheets maybe - haul 'em down to the van and stuff them in the cages. We'll keep 'em gagged. What say a dildo in ass, cunt and mouth?" Fred nodded, as Jack went on, "We try and time it so they come to when we get to the packing house. I want those whores awake when we wheel their cages in. Give 'em a hard ass fucking each and leave 'em caged. Maybe all day." Jack smiled again.

"No speech, " Fred added. "We don't speak to them at all, ever. Just use 'em like meat. First day, let 'em see the dog food put in their bowls..."

"Piss on the food when we put it , piss in the bowls. They'll eat when they get hungry enough and dog food will taste great when they get hungry enough. (You used the phrase 'hungry enough' twice in the same sentence, vary it a little or simplify the sentence) Let 'em know they're just dirty little cunts - fit to be used and nothing else." Jack said flatly.

Fred nodded again "Yeah," he breathed, "Lock a long chain around their necks while they're caged. Drag em out - do one first - chain her up - whip her - fuck her - make the other watch. Then do the same to the second. Leave 'em chained and spread."

"Take turns," Jack grunted, "keep 'em awake for a couple of days, maybe a week, only taken down to eat - spread and whipped and fucked whenever they start to nod off." he leered. "Break their fucking minds with pain, with humiliation. Fuck their cunts and asses till they beg for it. Make 'em learn to beg to fuck each other."

"Make 'em learn to beg to hurt each other," Fred hissed, "Take 'em to where they want to use each other as we use them. Make 'em want to do the other just to get away from the pain herself. Man, make sure they can see each other when you set up the pillar positions - so they can see the shit dribbling down each others legs, can see the whipping and the pain the other feels. Can see the humiliation!"

Both men leaned back, smiled, the darkness behind their eyes alive with malice. "Yeah, man, lets do it. I got some ideas for those two bitches. After a week of being spread-eagled and used we can get creative. Heh, turn into fucking pain and fuck toys. It'll be a sweet three months, man, maybe longer." Both men grinned silently.

"Man," Fred added quietly, "we better make sure no one traces the van to us, or to the girls. They gotta disappear completely. With my record, yours too buddy, if we get caught we gonna be someone's bitch in the pen for life." He thought for a few moments. "you still got those clean tags from Arizona?."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, never used them. They're clean. They'll be good. Put those tags on before you drive into the neighbourhood and park. We can change back to the real ones after we get away from there. We can ditch the other tags and the keys in the river after we dump the sluts at the packing house. And if we go in and out through the back way, no one's gonna see us enter the building. Or leave. No one knew Lenny had a key to the back door of the building. Fuck, the dumb cunt didn't know he had it either, and he's forgot I got a set of keys."

"Ah fuck it, we'll get away with this. It's worth it to mess with those two bitches. And we get paid too," Jack added, standing. "Sweet! I'm goin' home man, gotta get my strength up for those cunts."

"Gimme a ride, will ya man, my wheels are broke right now." Fred asked, pulling on his coat. "We can clean up the details when we know the sluts' schedule."

Both men smiled again, and pushed through the door into the darkness.

[Mad Lews]

you may have beaten the Brits 200 years ago - But we whipped your Yankee asses and sent them home again in tears in the war of 1812 - lol! And it was Canadians who pulled the pan out of the fire for you Yanks at Omaha Beach.

I figure that gives us some bragging rights!

Besides - if you insist you speak English, then it should be the language used by the majority of English speakers around the world ***weg***. Now, if you want to concede you speak and write Usian, not English, I'll concede your right to butcher your language any way you see fit!

Hehehe - don't you just love language nazis Rose :D

Ah to be lectured on arrogance by an Englishman, perhaps that’s a redundancy.

But an Englishman with such a peculiar recall of history? True the diplomats ended your attempt to reclaim the lost colonies back in 1815 but if New Orleans was any indication, you could ill afford a victory.

You dithered about in the 1860s until your erstwhile ally had been thoroughly starved, and beaten.

You trundled to a standstill in the Great War until we yanks threw our weight in.

You begged , and borrowed from us through the early years of the second Great War (BTW Lend/Lease implies repayment) and if we had followed that strutting peacock Monty’s advice we might still be attempting to strike at the Germans ‘soft underbelly’ as our tanks lumbered up the Italian peninsula and attempted to cross the Austrian alps.

Still I suspect your worse sin to be this. You dreamt of Empire and then you retreated without regard for the vacuum you left behind. I’d say you were no better than the French but I’m not that cruel.

As to the story, I’ll review it once I’ve calmed Mr. Lews down.

Respectfully yours,

Mad

[Whippett]

Ah to be lectured on arrogance by an Englishman, perhaps that’s a redundancy.

But an Englishman with such a peculiar recall of history? True the diplomats ended your attempt to reclaim the lost colonies back in 1815 but if New Orleans was any indication, you could ill afford a victory.

You dithered about in the 1860s until your erstwhile ally had been thoroughly starved, and beaten.

You trundled to a standstill in the Great War until we yanks threw our weight in.

You begged , and borrowed from us through the early years of the second Great War (BTW Lend/Lease implies repayment) and if we had followed that strutting peacock Monty’s advice we might still be attempting to strike at the Germans ‘soft underbelly’ as our tanks lumbered up the Italian peninsula and attempted to cross the Austrian alps.

Still I suspect your worse sin to be this. You dreamt of Empire and then you retreated without regard for the vacuum you left behind. I’d say you were no better than the French but I’m not that cruel.

As to the story, I’ll review it once I’ve calmed Mr. Lews down.

Respectfully yours,

Mad

Lol - Mad (and Lews)

Well, as a Canadian and NOT a Brit - I take exception to your linking the fiasco at New Orleans with the thorough drubbing your invading army suffered at Queenston Heights.

The userous repayment rates the US set on lend/lease (and requiring the Brits to honour broken commitments made by allies added to that) had a lot to do with the collapse of the British Empire - that and the loss of a large proportion of two generations of young men.

Yes, Lend/Lease was the only option open to Britain (and her allies) since the US was doing a land-office business with Germany supplying munitions initially. Indeed American industry had a strong lobby for the US to side with Germany from the early days of the Third Reich - it saw greater profit in crushing Britain. Britain finally did pay off the debt - in 2006. The US borrowed heavily during the War of Independence and again during the American Civil War. In both instance the US reneged on it's repayment commitments, making it the only modern world power that got there (in part) by declaring bankruptcy - twice.

The US flirted with joining the second world war on the side of the Axis until Japan attacked. Had Germany and Italy NOT sided with their axis ally (Japan) and declared war on the US when the US declared war on Japan it is likely the US would never have entered the European Theatre. Based on how badly the Germans were doing against the Russian winters, and the high command's insistence that Russia must be taken at all costs, it is likely that the war would have dragged on longer, but ultimately with the same outcome without US involvement. Indeed Patton's disasterous plan for Omaha Beach nearly cost the American Army it's soul.

Popular misconception to the contrary, the American involvement in WW II was a factor, but not the deciding factor Hollywood tries to portray.

And while the British did have an Empire and acknowledged it - the US has played at having an empire and denied it vociferously. I highly recommend Naill Ferguson's "Colossus: The Price of America's Empire" if you doubt me.

Yes, Mad and Lews, I am also a student of history - and some of the history published in the US is heavily "adjusted" to match what 'ought' to have happened rather than what did happen - historiography coupled with a touch of propaganda.

But we're off topic - lol - and this is an argument best taken with a nice glass of chablis before a roaring fire.

[Whippett]

revised to address Rose's comments:

__________________________________________________ _____

"Hey Fred, wazzup?" Jack growled, letting the glass door bang shut behind him. "Lemme grab a coffee and a doughnut."

Fred looked up from the dregs in his cup, nodded "No names, bro," he hissed, glancing at the two old men sitting at the doughnut shop counter, talking with the counter girl.

Leaning on the counter, Jack flirted with the counter girl, "Hey sweetcheeks, got milk in those jugs? Hows about a large double double with your fresh milk? And a cruller, babe."

The tired, used-up blonde sneered her reply, "Crawl back into the gutter, lowlife. That'll be three-fifty."

"Can't blame a guy for trying, sweetcheeks," he flipped back, and slapped the change on the counter. Picking up his coffee and doughnut, Jack ambled back to the table.

"So bud, what's the hairy deal. Whydya get me out here at three-fucking-a-m for a fucking doughnut and coffee?" Jack shot.

"Keep your fucking voice down, man." Fred snarled, looking around. He leaned forward and hissed intently. "Got an offer worth big bucks for us if we pull it off. Lotta risk, but, man, the pay is good."

Jack sipped his coffee, grimaced at its bitter taste, and whispered back, "Okay, risk I can handle for the right payday. How much we talking about?"

Fred paused, thinking for a minute how much he could undercut Jack's share... "Fifty grand. Each," he replied softly.

"Woof!" Jack leaned back in his chair, "that's some payday. Who we gotta ice?" He took another sip of his coffee, and leaned forward, intent as Fred spoke.

"Not that kind of ice, bud, much sweeter deal this time," Fred whispered. "You know those two little blondes who moved into Lenny's old place?"

"What, the 16 year-old twins?" Jack spoke thickly, "Yeah man, always parading their sweet tits and cunts with the blinds up."

"They're 18, shit-head," Fred responded flatly. "I checked them out. Yeah. Them. You ain't the only dude who wants to fuck their brains out. Stupid ice-maidens teased the wrong dude. Laughed at him when he made an offer they shouldn't have refused."

"Who?" Jack asked quietly.

"No names, ass-hole!" Fred spat back, "But he's got the money to make 'em pay, and pay real hard."

Jack nodded, putting on his business face, "Okay, what's the deal? Rough em up? What?"

"I said pay real hard, shit-face." Fred snarled, "Pay with their bodies for the rest of their lives." He sat back, eyed Jack intently for a moment, then leaned forward again. "Dude's leaving the details to us. He doesn't care what condition the bitches are in when he gets 'em. He just wants 'em broke so bad what he's gonna do will seem like heaven to 'em. He's gonna use the little cunts, train 'em and sell them. We get to break 'em and deliver them to him."

Jack whistled, then glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. He leaned forward, smiling, "We get to do anything, anything we want?"

"Yeah!" Fred leered back. "Any fucking thing we want. And we get paid too!"

"Oh man," Jack said thickly, his eyes hard and bright, "I got just the place for that. You know the old packing house on Elm? Just got hired to watch the place, keep the street people out. Dude wants me to live there, make the place look busy." He smiled, like a shark with dinner a bite away. "It's big, it's empty, no one goes there. And no-one will hear them scream!"

"Perfect," Fred hissed. "Here's the plan. Most weekends the sluts go away. I dunno, home to the country maybe. If we grab 'em Thursday night when they have the Friday off, no one will miss 'em for three days. Gives us time to get 'em and stash 'em before anyone starts looking for 'em." His voice coarsened with lust, "Dude don't care how long it takes us to break 'em either. Waddaya figure? Three months of fucking with the little cunts?"

"Oh yeah man," smirked Jack heavily, "Give 'em time to heal from the beatings too. I want to beat 'em til they beg to be fucked just to get away from the beatings. Turn 'em into total pain and cum whores." He smiled, a predator with prey in sight. "Okay, man, I still have a key to Lenny's place. Landlord's cheap, won't replace locks between tenants. I can watch 'em to see when they have their next Friday off. If it's this week, we gonna have to wait two weeks to snatch 'em." he licked his lips in anticipation. "That gives us time to prepare the place..."

Fred cut in, "Yeah, we need a couple of good cages. Something cramped, thick bars. And we need some staples in the walls, chain, shackles, toys." He laughed softly, bitter edged, hard and spiky. "Lenny still works for that welder. He owes me. I can get him to make two cages. Saw a nice design in a vid last night. Chick's butt was up against the bars, with a dildo up her ass and cunt, and her head through a hole in the front so she could blow her trainer."

"Get Lenny to put 'em on wheels," Jack rode over Fred's voice intently, "We need a van to move the whores. Grab 'em, stuff them in the cages for transport. Can you get a van? My wheels are too recognizable to use." Fred nodded. "We get into their apartment before they get home from work. I still have a bit of chloroform from out last job. We knock em out with it. Keep 'em out til it gets dark and quiet. Then cage them in the van." Jack leered, "We can play with 'em while they're out."

"Park the van a couple blocks away," Fred interjected, "Go get it when it's time to move 'em to the packing house. You sure no one's gonna go there?"

"Yeah," Jack nodded, "Dude bought it to redevelop into condos, gonna be a year before they start. Okay, we got cages and a van. I know just where to keep 'em in the building. Nice thick concrete walls. I'll get the hardware for the walls, and the chain. Say, does this guy cover expenses?"

Fred nodded.

Jack went on, "I can get the staples fitted in the walls and floor this weekend. I got the whips and crops covered too. Pick up some buggy whips, ok?" He paused for Fred's assent "We need a couple cases of dog food and a couple of bowls. Heh, saw two in the pet store that are perfect. Got 'Bitch' printed on 'em."

"What about crapping and pissing?" Fred interjected.

Jack sneered "There a big drain where they going, and water. They can fucking shit and piss in their cages. We just hose 'em down when the mess gets too bad." He leered, "Humilate 'em, treat 'em like cattle. Beat them daily. Make 'em fuck each other. And fuck 'em ourselves whenever we want!"

Fred and Jack both sat back, exchanged hard smiles.

"Break 'em down so far they never find up," Fred smirked. "Okay, here's the plan. I get the cages and van for the next time they have Friday off. You get bowls, cases of dog food and set up the dungeon. Staples in the floor, walls. Any pillars we can stretch 'em between?" At Jack's nod he went on "Okay - so staples in the pillars too - so we can spread-eagle them. Make the installations permanent - chain already in place. Fuck - we need a bunch of locks all keyed alike too. I'll get 'em. I know a place.. Thursday night we do it..."

Jack interjected intensely, "You get the van and park it a couple blocks over. We meet at noon. I let us into their apartment. We toss the place - grab some dirty panties soaked in chloroform to use to knock 'em out and gag 'em. Better have some rope to tie 'em too. We take 'em down, strip 'em, tie 'em tight and hard. Mmmmmm always wanted to throat-fuck a knocked out cunt." Jack licked his lips in anticipation, shook himself.

"When it gets quiet, you go get the van. We cover the sluts with something - sheets maybe - haul 'em down to the van and stuff them in the cages. We'll keep 'em gagged. What say a dildo in ass, cunt and mouth?" Fred nodded, as Jack went on, "We try and time it so they come to when we get to the packing house. I want those whores awake when we wheel their cages in. Give 'em a hard ass fucking each and leave 'em caged. Maybe all day." Jack smiled again.

"No speech, " Fred added. "We don't speak to them at all, ever. Just use 'em like meat. First day, let 'em see the dog food put in their bowls..."

"Piss on the food when we put it out, piss in the bowls and let 'em see it. They'll eat piss and dog food when they get hungry enough. Let 'em know they're just dirty little cunts - fit to be used and nothing else." Jack said flatly.

Fred nodded again "Yeah," he breathed, "Lock a long chain around their necks while they're caged. Drag em out - do one first - chain her up - whip her - fuck her - make the other watch. Then do the same to the second. Leave 'em chained and spread."

"Take turns," Jack grunted, "keep 'em awake for a couple of days, maybe a week, only taken down to eat - spread and whipped and fucked whenever they start to nod off." he leered. "Break their fucking minds with pain, with humiliation. Fuck their cunts and asses till they beg for it. Make 'em learn to beg to fuck each other."

"Make 'em learn to beg to hurt each other," Fred hissed, "Take 'em to where they want to use each other as we use them. Make 'em want to do the other just to get away from the pain herself. Man, make sure they can see each other when you set up the pillar positions - so they can see the shit dribbling down each others legs, can see the whipping and the pain the other feels. Can see the humiliation!"

Both men leaned back, smiled, the darkness behind their eyes alive with malice. "Yeah, man, lets do it. I got some ideas for those two bitches. After a week of being spread-eagled and used we can get creative. Heh, turn into fucking pain and fuck toys. It'll be a sweet three months, man, maybe longer." Both men grinned silently.

"Man," Fred added quietly, "we better make sure no one traces the van to us, or to the girls. They gotta disappear completely. With my record, yours too buddy, if we get caught we gonna be someone's bitch in the pen for life." He thought for a few moments. "you still got those clean tags from Arizona?."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, never used them. They're clean. They'll be good. Put those tags on before you drive into the neighbourhood and park. We can change back to the real ones after we get away from there. We can ditch the other tags and the keys in the river after we dump the sluts at the packing house. And if we go in and out through the back way, no one's gonna see us enter the building. Or leave. No one knew Lenny had a key to the back door of the building. Fuck, the dumb cunt didn't know he had it either, and he's forgot I got a set of keys."

"Ah fuck it, we'll get away with this. It's worth it to mess with those two bitches. And we get paid too," Jack added, standing. "Sweet! I'm goin' home man, gotta get my strength up for those cunts."

"Gimme a ride, will ya man, my wheels are broke right now." Fred asked, pulling on his coat. "We can clean up the details when we know the sluts' schedule."

Both men smiled again, and pushed through the door into the darkness.