Chapter 11
During the days that followed, Priscilla's degradation made even Dante's descent to the inferno pall by comparison. Seemingly possessed of an unlimited imagination in spite of his small brain, Hognose humiliated her in ways that would have made De Sade himself wince.
Tired of dallying with mere sex, he moved onto the headier pleasures of sadism. Besides, such were Priscilla's sexual appetites that he found it difficult to satisfy them without incurring permanent damage to his prick. The more she got, in the way of sex, the more she wanted. Her craving became more than a mere cock could handle, monstrous though his was. To remedy the situation, he resorted to the whip.
Having been a farm boy all his life (during his incarceration, he even worked on the prison farm), he had a well-developed right arm that was fully capable of wielding a bull whip with ease. But even it grew weary from all she required, yes even demanded, before being satisfied.
Then one day after he'd flogged her so hard he'd thrown his arm out of joint, it suddenly dawned on him. What the fuck am I killing myself for if she gels all the fun out of it? That girl-likes being whipped too much. It's not healthy for a girl to think like that, it really isn't.
He looked down at her bleeding back and shook his head. Here, he'd done everything possible to make her suffer and in the end she'd begged him to continue.
"One climax is enough for you!" he announced, tossing aside the tattered whip.
"Please whip me some more. Hognose! Humiliate me, piss on me, shove your dirty dick in my mouth, let me lick your shitty asshole
"Shut up, you filthy-minded slut!" Even he was shocked by the sordidness of her requests, though it was he that had caused her transmogrification into a trollop.
Deciding that something must be done, he tried tying her to a dog chain for a few days in hopes this might domesticate her sex drive. But all that happened from her spending this time in the doghouse was that she began to bark and picked up a pack of fleas. She became so mangy that even he considered it beneath his dignity to diddle her.
"Please fuck mc, Hognose, please!" she begged, while groveling at his feet. "You don't know how bad I need it." To show her devotion to his dick, she licked the spaces between his toes with more enthusiasm than a dog could muster, Hognose having a terrible case of toe jamitis.
That day the best he could do was piss on her upturned head and once he saw she was swallowing the stuff, soon found himself incapable of continuing.
"You're disgusting, you know it?" he sneered, then stormed away to get a drink of white lightning.
What kind of monster have I created? he thought, while watching the Frankensteinian female finger herself with a dried up dog turd. That girl has got a problem and so do I-her. How could a nice, decent girl, like Priscilla used to be, turn into the scum she is today? I mean, she's so scummy I bet even the pigs wouldn't touch her. Not that I'd let 'em near her either; any girl that diddles herself with dog dung is bound to have picked up something, maybe even rabies.
Although abstaining from sexual indulgence himself as a result of qualms about her sanitary habits and a sore cock on his part, he amused himself by turning the dogs loose on her. How she loved having those canines hump her little cunny! Why, she even howled along with the hounds when they came inside her. After a while she began to identify so closely with the dogs that she quit talking and started barking.
When Hognose came to feed her her daily portion of pig slop, she bared her teeth at him and snarled ferociously. Not wanting to get bitten, he backed off and respected her territorial rights.
Even the other dogs feared her ferocity, until she came to dominate their ranks. This took many fights on her part, from which she got many scars. Strangely, she even began to grow fur, perhaps as a matter of biological necessity, since she wore no clothes and had to keep warm somehow.
Every night she kept Hognose awake with her howling and carrying on with the other canines. Strays from miles around came to mount the legendary she-bitch who so closely resembled their female masters. As with everything else in the way of sex, Priscilla began to demand increased dosages of dog diddling. Soon it took a whole kenned of well-hung canines to satisfy her. She began to look elsewhere in the barnyard for more suitable mates, her sex life having gone to the dogs.
Hognose was happy to see her desires change, as he was getting tired of sleepless nights and having dog turds all over the place.
Aside from this, he also worried that some irate mongrel owner would come to retrieve his mutt and find him mounting that missing heiress he'd been reading so much about in the papers. Now the reward had been increased to a hundred thousand dollars, and then; were rumors it might reach half a million before the kidnapers were caught. The girl had been gone so long many people naturally now assumed her abduction to be the work of an organized gang, possibly the mafia-though Harry held out for the Communists, as did Zoltan-that both the F.B.I. and C.I.A. had been called in, with the Army a distinct possibility in the near future. Scores of newsmen from the major wire services of the world had converged upon Hog City. A command headquarters had been set up to correlate the work of the different criminal agencies at work on the case, but not a single clue had been found to confirm Harrys assertion that Hognose was behind it all. Needless to say, everyone who worked at Mannlicher Meatpacking believed him, though the newsmen were dubious. But then their kind is known for being cynical. The eternally hopeful cops were sure a break would come soon, even in the face of constant failure.
A fortunate side effect of the kidnapping was that Harry and Melissa Mannlicher began sleeping together for the first time since their honeymoon. As a result, they grew closer to one another than at any previous time in their marriage. The loss of Priscilla made them realize how much they missed her carefree ways and unselfish devotion.
"She was such a good girl," sighed Harry, "how could anything like this happen to her?"
Melissa remembered the adage, "Only the good die young," but thought it best not to tell Harry. But her daughter had been so long even she was beginning to give up hope that the girl would ever be found, except as a rotting corpse.
Zoltan was beside himself with sorrow for having lost such a good lay. If she'd perished as a result of his careless lovemaking, he'd never forgive himself. Alternating between his conscience bouts and genuine concern for the missing girl was a desire to diddle her once again. Cod, but she was a great piece of ass! he'd muse, while imagining, in his minds eye, her beautiful, naked body next to his. I sure hope she lives to fuck me again, I really do. Lucky Priscilla, should she survive.
Meanwhile, back at the barnyard, Priscilla continued her downward moral plunge. Reduced to an animal level by an overdose of libidinous behavior, she now lived for sex and nothing else. No act of depravity seemed beneath her doing. Her pleasure became purified by excess and the more she bad the more she needed. There seemed no end in sight to her dementia. A lesser girl would have either given up long before or died from sexual overdose, but spunky Priscilla kept at it. Even callous Hognose, who'd first started heron the road to ruin, was shocked by her unabashed lewdness. To restore her to the path of righteousness, he decided to again employ the whip.
One day when he found her feeling up a turkey's cock, he decided to teach her another lesson. Laying into her with the leather with all his might, he missed and hit the turkey right across the gobbler. Boy, did the feathers fly after that!
Strangely, as she watched Hognose protect himself from the outraged fowl, Priscilla felt jealous because the bird and not she was being flogged. Deciding to remedy the inequitable situation, she lay down in the dirt and begged Hognose to beat her.
Only too glad to comply with her request, after his earlier mistake had ended in the death of a turkey, Hognose had at her with the whip in the most savage way imaginable.
"I'll teach you to make sport of dumb animals, you little slut!" he yelled, laying info her bare back with a fury. "My farm was a nice happy place before you eame here and ruined it with your filthy ways. Now the animals all look to you as their mistress, instead of to me as their master. I shoulda known better than to let you get near those simple creatures. How'd I know you would corrupt 'em with your cunt?"
There were tears in his eyes as he related to her the havoc her very presence had caused in the pig pen, how the boars refused to breed because their one lucky brother bragged about licking girl pussy and whetted their appetites for it. "And you haven't helped matters much, parading at the end of your tether past the hog pen. If I were you, girl, I'd be ashamed. Tempting pigs with your twat, that s disgusting!"
He look our his wrath on her skin, splaying open the flesh with a brutal scries of lashes that left her bloody. Still she demanded more, but he was too tired to continue. Hurling aside the whip, he hunkered down and cried like a baby.
"What have I done to you, girl, to make you the way you are? Where did I go wrong? he sobbed.
"You made me what I am today, Fatso," she sneered. "After what you made me go through, I doubt if I'll ever be the same." She flashed her PIG-festooned ass-cheek at him to make her point.
Seeing him flinch when he saw his sign, she said, "Don't be afraid to look at it, Hognose. After all, it's your artwork and you should be proud of it."
"Girl, you must be in league with Satan, you're so evil!" he retorted, her wanton behavior causing him to backslide from paganism into the fundamental religion of his childhood.
"I guess so, if I work for you, Fatso."
"How dare you suggest that I'm a friend of Satan's! Why, I ought to thrash you for saying that, you naughty wench! As a matter-of-fact, I've half a mind to wring your neck if you don't shape up pretty damned soon."
"Hit me, Hognose baby, hit me! I'll love every moment of it! You don't know how that turns me on!"
"Oh, yes I do, and that's why I m not going to do it, I now realize that the best way to make you suffer is to deny you what you want. From now on, slut, I'm going to see you get absolutely no sex, period. I'm even going to fix it so you can't play with yourself. And don't tell me you don't. I've seen you fingering yourself more than once-and in full sight of the hogs. There'll be no more of that, I assure you."
Shortly thereafter, he isolated her from the rest of the animals and fitted her with a makeshift chastity belt that insured the end of autoerotism. Still chained to the doghouse, she was not allowed to mingle any more with man's best friend, and forced to lead a life of total abstinence for the next two weeks. During this time her mange went away, as did her fleas and frothing at the mouth. At first she complained constantly of being denied dick, but after a while her desire apparently lessened. By the end of the first week she had grown sullen and introspective, refusing to communicate, even with Hognose, who almost felt sorry for what he'd done. Still, he decided to keep up with the project, if only because as she regained some of her old beauty he regained some of his old horniness. Not since he'd seen her diddling herself with dog dung had he indulged in sex, not even with the sows, and he was beginning to feel it. Soon he hoped she would be fuckable again, but he kept her quarantined for another week before deeming her decent enough to diddle.
By then she was looking like a girl again, instead of like some filthy, field animal. A flush had come back to her formerly pallorous cheeks after he'd put some additives in the pig slop and her body had put on poundage so she didn't look like skin and bones, as she had.
To show his appreciation for her improvement, he undid her dog collar and dragged her by the hair into the shack just like it was old times again. Being treated thusly, she too perked up and began to bitch how her hair hurt.
Hearing her complain brought a big smile of gratitude to Hognose's lips as he recalled the wondrous first days of her capture. Once again she was the protesting symbol of purity and he the sex-crazy brute, instead of the other way around. Their sexual roles reestablished, perhaps they could relive some of their wild times together, he hoped, as he dragged her screaming loveliness into the bedroom. Perhaps in this semen-and-blood-soaked scene of earlier escapades he could recapture some of his ardor for sex and sadism.
"Please don't hurt me, Mister, please!" she begged, being careful to shield her nakedness from his venal view.
Aha! So she is just as she used to be! Hot damn, it looks like I'm going to have me a time with this lovely, he thought, while kicking her hand away from her twat.
"What kind of girl do you take me for?" she asked, as he threw her onto the bed and covered her undraped torso with slobbering kisses.
"Just the kind I want, Honey chile-a nice, fresh, decent sort of girl who's repulsed by the-likes of me!" He licked his way down to her downy blonde puff and planted a sloppy kiss thereon, thereby repulsing her completely.
She slapped and scratched and bit to keep him away from her box, but all to no avail. Hognose's strength was tremendous, and he didn't hesitate to use it to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was a taste of her juicy pussy. Burrowing past all obstacles she placed in his path, he finally stuck his snout into her snatch and sniffed the heady smell of young cunt.
"Hot damn, hut that sure do smell good!" he exclaimed, as he routed around in her luxuriant hush.
Despite all her objections, she soon fell victim to his tongue. Lashing her loins into a lather, it quickly aroused her to the point where she was willingly spreading her thighs. Once again Hognose fell like the horny conqueror he used to, before she became obsequious and ruined it all. Now with her spunk back, she proved a fitting adversary, well worth fighting for a fuck. After all, he thought, while avoiding her pummeling fists, half the fun of a fuck is fighting to get it.
Priscilla too, after backsliding from prodigal ways, began to see Hognose in the same old light. No longer was he the sop to her sexual desires, but rather the Hun rapist at her girlish gate. The same animal magnetism that had attracted her when she was demented again repelled her completely. She wanted nothing to do with him sexually, which was just the way he wanted it. No rapist wants a willing victim; that spoils ail the fun.
Unwittingly aiding him in his unjust cause, she fought back with every ounce of strength she could muster. Almost as if her virginity was al stake, she invoked Divine authority to save her from this evil man, whom she alleged in tones loud and clear, "Should be struck dead on the spot for his wickedness."
Accepting the challenge, Hognose backed off for a moment and taunted the All Powerful: "All right, you almighty pig fucker in the sky, if what I am doing is wrong, strike me dead this instant!"
He waited and, nothing happening, decided he had the Lord's official stamp of approval and proceeded with the rape.
Priscilla, on the other hand, saw things somewhat differently. In her eyes, Hognose was no longer just a Hun rapist, he was a Heathen Hun rapist and therefore twice as evil. So now she fought back with twice the effort she had before-, hoping the Lord would intercede in her behalf. Somehow, he failed to, perhaps being too busy waging war with sin on other, more important fronts. As a result of His deserting her cause, she soon fell victim to the horrible Hognose.
Prying apart her slender legs with seeming ease, he slid between the trembling thighs with his battering ram, ready to penetrate the puffy, pink lips of her little pussy. Still she protested too much, but alas it was too late. For the Heathen Hun was not only at her gooey gates, but breaching them in his usual bestial way. Her cunt quivered in pain as he rudely pushed his thick way inside, but in a short while it was sopping with sexiness.
"I hale you!" she kept saying, over and over, until she said it in unison with his stroke. Every savage thrust of his heathen spear brought her closer to Valhalla, but still she continued to protest the invasion of her pussy.
"You'll burn in hell for this, you heathen bastard!"
"I certainly hope so, Honey chile. Al least there I'll be among friends, care to join me?"
"I'd sooner die!"
"Good, then it's settled. Say what you will now, little girl, soon you'll be sliding down into the murky depths with me-and liking it!" lie bent down and bit her hard on the neck.
"Tomorrow there will be a mark there to remember me by, in case you forgot about the other one down below."
"I'm sorry, pigface, but I don't know what you're talking about."
Ska really has forgotten, he realized, as he rutted his way into rapist ecstasy in her still-protesting pussy.