The Depraved

ROLLERCOASTER

Suleiman grabbed my right bicep and shoved me into the end of the dead end street. The clatter of my stilettos on the cobble stones echoed off the walls of the narrow street, which slowly rose into the distance. The walls were so high, the lane was so narrow, that the street was shadowy except for a narrow beam of sunlight smeared along halfway down the walls on the right side of the street.

I stood there naked except for my shoes, the cold metal hand cuffs pressing the back of my hands to the back of my ass and the small silver bells dangling from the clamps the beasts attached to my nipples.

There's no one in the street. My body, mind and soul felt like a beach after being pounded by a storm. My world has turned upside down, my earth has broken its orbit around the sun and is now hurtling through deep space. I'm under the control of the mafia? this town? the police?

I heard the posse step out onto the street and slammed the door shut.

It's just the five of us now.

I had no tan lines because I never sunbathed. No nude or topless beaches for me. No way.

The street was quiet except for the tinkering of my bells rung by the heaving of my tits.

The street was hot and stuffy. Drops of sweat fell off my forehead and my melons. Drops off the hit team's cum dripped out my tenderized cunt. And my ass too. I was exhausted. Stretched to the outer limits.

I didn't if know if I was coming or going. Each tremor, each shock wave was overcome by another in rapid succession. I was a rabbit being hunted by a pack of rabid self-righteous werewolves.

From the door of the house to my left came the clangor of a large bolt sliding then stopping with a thunk, then another sliding bolt and then one more. A lock was loudly opened. The door slowly creaked open.

A burning sensation stung my face and chest in a spiral pattern. I flinched.

A young man and woman, in a black Sunday's best suit and dress respectively, looked at me passively. I stared at them my flesh crawling with shame and desperation. I silently mouthed the words "Help me" to them.

Their eyes lowered to my bush and then they smirked!

It was a punch to the gut.

"Start walking cumdump!" barked Don Khaldun rabidly.

I nearly jumped out of high heeled red shoes and swerved unsteadily on my feet. The Incorruptible took me by the shoulders and steadied me.

He ordered me to start walking.

Every clattering step I took made my ass wiggle and my tintinnabulating tits jiggle.

After six steps forward two houses ahead to my right, a door opened and I had to walk pass a murmuring middle aged couple dressed like the villagers who smirked at me. Their eyes said it all. I cringed.

I abruptly came to a halt when two houses ahead both doors on either side of the street swung open and sun-burned stocky peasants wearing black caps or scarves peered from their door ways at my tinkling tits.

"No one told you could stop walking bimbo," snapped Don Volpone.

With a shuddering gasp, the handcuffs forcing my shoulders back and my ringing melons to jut out, I started walking slowly trying to look straight ahead.

More and more doors opened ahead of me down the street I was slowly climbing. More villagers came out on the street, some silent, others murmuring, oblivious to my cringing, my trembling shoulders, my gasping. Some seemed to be pleased by my growing panic. I had walk naked pass villagers after villager, paraded by my defilers, by a mafia jackal who had set me up, by a corrupt cop with a horse's cock, by a vengeful Arab who had fucked my fat ass.

I was mortified.

Whenever we came to a fork in the way the Incorruptible would direct traffic: "Go left slut" or "Go right bitch". And there would be more villagers I'd have to clatter past. More smouldering eyes prying into all my secrets. Smirking. Deriding. Laughing. Shaming

And then I walked into the light.

Squinting I found myself in the village square. To my right at one end of the square was a run down church. To my left a short distance away was a big crowd!

"No one gave you permission to stop walking, moved towards the jury cumdump!"

Burning with humiliation under the blazing sun in the clear blue sky I hobbled across the grimy cobble stones of the square towards the murmuring mob, my jiggling bells heralding my arrival.

When I reached the edge of assembly the Mayor yelled something in a language I didn't understand and it parted like the Red Sea.

"Keep walking!"

With each jiggling ringing bouncing and bobbing step passing through the gauntlet more of the mob laughed...at me! Catcalling. Mocking. Berating.

I was abased.

Coming into view was a wooden platform. When I emerged from the crowd I saw the wooden platform twenty feet long, ten feet wide and ten feet high. There was eight feet high posts at each end connected by a cross beam on top.

The bastards pushed me up the six stairs behind the platform. The aroma of the fresh timber smelt good.

Don Volpone and the Incorruptible presented me to what must be nearly every adult in the village! They fully exposed my naked body to a mob of leering in-bred monkeys under the burning high noon of Sicily. When I tried to turn my back to the mob in embarrassment the Don and the Incorruptible laughing straightened me out. The eyes of men and women dressed all in black--including their caps and scarves--were all over me; the mob was hooting, hollering, humiliating, hectoring.

A tall thin figure stepped forward from behind me. It was wearing a long black robe like a monk's, with a pointy red hood that covered its head except for two eye holes.

It pointed at me and a man's deep voice exclaimed: "Behold the whore!"

The Hydra-headed mob bayed for blood, shouting to the echo. Where did those words come from?

"What say you good people?!" shouted the executioner.

Almost as one the villagers raised their right arms and gave me the thumb's up. Then all as one, roaring contemptuously, they gave me the thumb's down. It was only then did I see in the front row standing next to the Mayor and Don Khaldun, Donna Volpone wearing a red dress--and Franky in an Armani suit! And both of them were giving me the thumb's down, grinning maniacally!

Franky you SOB snitch! I was drenched in sweat, my heavy panting making the bells clamped to my nipples ring like an electric chair turned on.

The orgiastic onlookers berated by body. The serpents gave my tits, my belly, my thighs, my bush, my totally fucked pussy a severe tongue-lashing.

"COW!"

"BITCH!"

"SOW!"

"DUMB CUNT!"

"ASSASSIN!"

"PIG!"

Each curse word pricked my flesh like a tattoo artist's needle, indelibly staining me with shame. I cowered until their storm of abuse.

The hooded figure turned towards me. He had black eyes. He slowly intoned: "Evelina Lisa Proietti, you have been convicted of the crimes of murder, the attempted assassination of a State Police officer and whoring (including sodomy); for which crimes your punishment is to be hung by your neck until you are dead: God will have no mercy on your soul!"

The villagers gave my verdict a big round of applause. Some of the circus animals pumped their fists in the air.

How does he know my real name?

"What about my trial?!" I begged, squirming in my handcuffs.

"You were tried in absentia a month ago." The hangman stepped behind me.

"A MONTH ago! Where's Absentia?" Still restraining me, the Don and the Incorruptible couldn't restrain themselves from laughing at me.

"I promised you'd get a suspended sentence," purred the Incorruptible into my ear.

"What about my lawyer?!" I wailed. I saw a shadow cast on the ground before me of the rope flung over the crossbeam.

As he slipped the noose around my neck and readjusted my hair the man in the red mask played to the audience: "I'm your lawyer."

Everyone roared with laughter--except me. All these pigs are here to watch me die.

"Don Khaldun demanded you not get the long drop," Don Volpone stage whispered in my ear.

Behind my back the executioner proclaimed: "I'm going to string you up, slowly; by my calculations you'll strangle for twenty minutes."

They all roared with approval. They all wanted me to die.

I suddenly remembered catechism class.

"Please no, no, no, please--let me have a priest, last rites, absolution!"

The Don laughed fiendishly: "The women of the village sent its only priest on an all-around-the-world cruise two weeks ago to guarantee you'll..."

An unseen voice called out back of the crowd: "Have fun getting fucked by demons for eternity whore!"

The mob smiled like sharks. They roared the fans of the winning team of the World Cup.

Now Don Volpone played to the audience: "The Devil will surely bless me for sending him such a fine piece of ass." Then he slapped my ass, hard, and stomped heavily down the stairs.

"You fucking pigs!"

The Incorruptible caressed my belly and pressed his lips against my right ear: "I set you up; during pillow talk with Donna Bianca she expressed a desire that Franky settle down; I told her I would conduct an experiment on her behalf; after meticulous research I used my influence on Lucretia to inspire her to throw herself at Franky and that set the dominoes in motion; Bianca and I wanted you to know."

The Incorruptible then he slapped my ass for one last full good measure.

I was too demoralized to react.

Soon he was in the front row with the Volpone, Don Khaldun and the Mayor. Why are the Dons and the Incorruptible wearing matching white suits?

"Perhaps your utter depravity will be revealed for all to see during your last dance?" asked the tall hangman from behind my head.

The Incorruptible smiled knowingly and called out: "X sends his condolences."

The mob went silent, licking their chops.

I was so close to the front row I could the growing bulges in the front of the two Dons', the Incorruptible's and...Franky's pants! Monsters!

I started to blubber.

I remembered the nuns and started praying to Saint Vitalis.

My now uncontrollable heaving made the ringing of my bells sound like breaking glass.

I saw the Mayor nod with a smirk.

The pounding of my heart in my ears became deafening.

I felt the rope start to tighten.

Then the sun was blotted out of the sky.

It was all over so fast.

A blustery breeze blew through the village's square as darkness covered the mob, flinging a few caps and scarves harum-scarum, blowing up the front of Donna Bianca Volpone's red dress, momentarily revealing her red stockings and garters and black thong.

Some of the babbling peasants craned their necks looking upwards. Other pointed wildly to the sky. Then lightning and thunder broke out over their heads, followed by a shower of tubular smoky brassy hail stones.

It was sensory overload, everything went crazy, haywire. At the same time the front row of the mob--including the Volpone, Don Khaldun, the Mayor and the Incorruptible--were mowed down like grass in a bloody mist and the platform shook and the rope above my neck went slack.

I twisted my head around to look over my left shoulder and was happy to see my hangman splayed out spread eagle on his back, a cloud of red starfish on his chest; his robe was up to his knees: he was wearing white tennis shoes and no socks.

The herd of swine before me scattered howling in all directions.

I looked to above. Hovering above me, length-wise, is a large black rectangle, which was in the center of a large red metallic oval, which in turn was under a thick off white cloud.

I can't understand what I'm seeing.

From the rectangle hung two strange humanoid creatures, all-black, with short snouts and big round flat eyes and lights flashed from their fingertips. Rat-tat-tat--Rat-tat-tat filled the air with ear-splitting cracks.

The two guardian angels fell quickly to the platform with a resounding thud. They flanked me standing and sprayed the square with Uzi sub-machine guns propped against one of their hips. While the bulky creature on my right cut down panicking pigs, the one of the left let go of the rope he used to rappel down out of the black rectangle, slid the Uzi on to his back using its sling, pulled out the biggest knife I'd ever seen from his belt, strode next to me and pushed up my left melon after sliding the dull edge of blade under it.

I gasped in a trembling voice: "Please--no."

The creature said in a muffled voice: "Nice tits."

It was a man! A man wearing a black uniform, body armor, combat boots and one of those gas masks I'd seen in that vid about that ancient war Italy won.

He reached above my head, quickly cut the rope, rammed the huge knife into its scabbard hard, wrapped his left arm tightly around my waist, pulled me close to his chest, grabbed his rope and yanked on it twice.

My heart leapt up to my throat as I found myself soaring through the air like a super heroine in peril towards the black rectangle in the sky. My red four inch stilettos flung off feet and crashed earthward.

In the blink of an eye we entered the darkness and were enveloped in shouts and hands reaching out to us. I was yanked out of the arms of my guardian angel and abruptly put on my ass on the smooth floor of a narrow room with curtain-less windows on each side of it that stretched about four meters in each directions. At one end sat two men in white short sleeves who sat before what looked the controls of a motor boat.

Looking down the rectangular hole in the middle of the floor looming like falcons were five men, including my angel, all wearing gas masks, body armor, black uniforms. Above was a...gallows. Two winches were attached to a mental frame bolted to the ceiling. A meter of black rope dangled from one of them. The other rope twisted down into the darkness that was making a sleek zzzzzzziiiiiipppp sound. A big eyed head with a big snout popped up and his comrades pulled the soldier in.

One of them yelled: "Forza! Forza!"

Another one shouted: "Shut the bay doors!"

KWA-CHUNK! KWA-CHUNK!

"The doors are jammed!"

It dawned on me that the pounding in my ears was partially caused by the beating of the giant propeller hanging outside the window at the back end of this oval shaped room.

"Get this blimp back to base!" barked one of the masked men.

"I told you before squad leader, the Shrike is a dirigible, not a blimp." That voice made my flesh crawl.

"Pardon, your Royal Highness."

He stood on the other side of the rectangular hole wearing tiger stripe camo. His hair was still wondrously thick but it was all silver now. The Grand Duke of Corisca's mustache and goatee remained jet black. He radiated virility.

Someone took the noose from my neck and threw it down the hole.

"No scum of the earth will ever be permitted to hang one of my concubines, that is a prerogative of the aristocracy only."

"How did you find me?" I could see the top of the rocky countryside roll pass below the rectangular hole.

"When we discovered you were gone the morning after our last night together I put a bounty on your head; I'd intended to complete your parents' punishment by breeding a bastard grand child into you, but your scorning of my hospitality dishonored my good name and you will pay the price: Soldiers, to reward your courage and celebrate our successful adventure, upon our return to my Castillo this whore will out with a gang bang." The men started bouncing about like baboons.

I've been pulled out of the firing pan and thrown into the firing squad!

"Should I cut off her cuffs?"

"Yes, she's not going anywhere, but leave the bells on, it's a sound Oriental tradition."

One of the soldiers used a giant, red bolt cutter and snik-snik my wrists were free and the pieces of the cuffs were thrown down the hole.

Downcast I slowly massaged my sore wrists unable to process everything.

Suddenly the windows on the left side of the gondola shattered, shards of broken glass flew everywhere, chunks of the wall under the windows ripped apart, two soldiers fell down the hole!

The crashing noises were smothering.

"How could that rabble get a helicopter?" the Grand Duke shouted in rage, pointing his finger through one of the broken windows. There was blood on his sharp features. I don't think it's his blood.

"That's a State Police 'copter!" yelled one of the pilots.

The infuriated Grand Duke started pounding a pale wooden box with one jack booted foot.

"There used to be--a time--that when you bribed the police--they stayed bribed!" The box shattered, stringy confetti burst out on to the blood drenched floor. Two soldiers were on the floor, screaming, thrashing around.

The berzerk Grand Duke pulled out of the broken box a long, thick stick and big metal diamond shaped thing. He started screwing the diamond shaped thing onto one end of the big stick.

"They're making another sortie!" yelled one of the pilots looking straight ahead.

The Grand Duke pointed the stick out the window, his face filled with...panic!

Someone shouted: "Your Majesty don't fire the RPG INSIDE THE GONDOLA!"

A mysterious instinct inspired me to throw myself face first onto the floor and cover my ears. A second later I thought I was inside a storming thunder cloud during an earthquake on the side of an erupting volcano! I was tossed around like pink lingerie in a laundromat dryer.

The wind was howling through the thick smoke-filled shuddering shattered gondola. I could see the sun spangled sea spinning under the hole in the floor. The acrid smoke stung my eyes and my nostrils; it hurt my throat.

The gondola was spinning! Then it lurched upwards catapulting me through the rectangular hole!

The shimmering water was rushing towards me faster than the blink of a one-eyed man. Just before I hit the sea feet first, toes pointed down (that mysterious instinct had kicked in again) the giant silver sausage that spat me out spinning like a top belly flopped a hundred feet in front of me.

After a breath-taking clap of doom I plunged into a tunnel of coruscating bubbles foaming at my mouth, swirling twisting around my body. I tried to keep the light on above me. I can't breathe. A shock wave roils the water hurtling toward me like an aquamarine avalanche.

I felt like one of those numbered balls tumbling inside the bubble of a lottery draw drum. The underwater sonic boom exploded me out of the waves like spume from a Sperm Whale's spout. For a bright shining moment the ringing bells on my melons caught the sunlight. I felt the heat of the sun on my cheeks.

Then I belly flopped into watery darkness.

***

A warm, wet pleasant pounding on my pussy woke me up right. A bright light blinded me when I opened my eyes. I shielded them with my right hand, blinking painfully. I was laying on something soft and hot. White sand slipped through my left fingers. I looked down between my spread thighs under a blazing sun to see a gentle blue tide pounding my damp thick bush. The prow of the small, wooden boat beside me cast a shadow across my wet breasts. The bells were gone.

"I'm alive!" I shouted. The Grand Duke must be dead. What a rush!

My legs felt heavy; I had a pounding head ache. With great effort I got up on my elbows and gazed away from the boat. I seemed to be on an endless beach of such white, powdery fineness it looked like cocaine, under a clear blue sky almost indistinguishable from the blue surf.

A bass voice boomed out like Big Ben in London: "Look brother, I was telling the truth, I did rescue a mermaid!"

I leapt up like one of those moles in Wac-a-Mole onto my feet to find myself confronted by two men standing on the other side of the boat. Big men. They were identical twins.

"That's no half woman brother."

Wearing nothing but tight faded jeans, each man was six feet, six inches tall, with broad shoulders, killer abs, muscular swimmers' bodies. They were identical in every way: caramel skin, their hair an aureole of jet black ringlets with the impossibly painfully handsome face of the Italian male lead, accentuated by well-trimmed beards. Their faces seemed somehow familiar.