Daddy's Girl : An Extreme Psychological Horror

by Anton Palmer

  As the pain momentarily subsided, she retrieved the marker pen, desperately scribbling.

  “Ambulance. Hospital. Please!”

  Victoria stroked Anna’s hand and brought it up to her lips, planting a gentle kiss on her slender fingers. “There’s no necessity for a hospital, Anna. The Lord will take care of you.”

  Anna yelled again as another contraction hit her. Victoria watched, impassive, as a gush of bright red blood poured from her hideous vagina, pooling in a shiny wet puddle before slowly soaking into the already saturated mattress beneath her. She remained calm, smiled, and dabbed at her brow with a damp sponge.

  “Doctor!” Anna was sobbing now as she pleaded for medical help via the whiteboard, her tears mingling with the sweat of several hours’ fruitless labour. Victoria already knew things weren’t right. Anna had almost no chance of delivering her baby vaginally. Her birth canal had been too badly damaged with the blowtorch – her insides virtually fused together so there was no real passage for a baby to come out of any longer.

  She stood up from the small stool she had been squatting on and stretched, the bones of her spine cracking in a satisfying manner as she did so. She looked down at Anna, wet and glistening with sweat, on the blood-soaked mattress that had been lain on the dirt floor of the basement. She spoke slowly, carefully, “If something is not right - then it is God’s will. You are being punished for your sins.”

  She bent down and mopped the woman’s brow once more, the anger suddenly leaving her voice. “Don’t worry Anna…the child will be safe. I’ll see to that.”

  Anna looked at her quizzically, fear in her eyes.

  Victoria glanced at her wrist-watch in the gloomy light of the weak bulb hanging from the joist above her head. “I’ll give you a few more minutes – any longer and I fear for the baby’s wellbeing. If the child isn’t out by then…” She held up a gleaming scalpel.

  Anna shuddered, knowing her captor intended to cut the baby from her womb.

  Another, even stronger contraction gripped her and she shrieked long and hard, bearing down with all her remaining strength as she stared with wide eyes at the wooden crucifix attached to the wall opposite. The cross burned its image into her retinas as she prayed for Jesus, God…anyone, to give her the strength to deliver her baby safely.

  More blood, darker this time, oozed from between her gore-spattered thighs, followed by a spray of urine and a sloppy lump of reeking faecal matter. Victoria picked up the excrement with a paper towel and dumped it into a metal bucket behind her, before wiping the excess blood and piss from the mattress with a piece of old rag. Anna panted, breathless and exhausted, sweat flooding from every pore. Victoria again dabbed at her face gently with the sponge.

  “Please. Ambulance”

  Victoria threw the whiteboard down onto the blood-soaked mattress.

  “It’s time.”

  Anna screamed as she felt the razor-sharp scalpel plunge into her abdomen, just below her navel and slice downward towards her blood-matted pubis. She passed out at the sight of her taut, ripe belly opening up, a stream of blood running down her flanks into the mattress as a yellow layer of fat burst out of the gaping wound. Victoria pulled the fatty layer to one side as she carefully cut through the thin, shiny membrane beneath, revealing the abdominal muscles.

  She slashed in short, shallow bursts, over and over, tearing through the blocks of muscle while remaining conscious of not cutting so deep as to harm the child, until the womb, bloated with its precious cargo, was plainly visible, Victoria delicately slit open the uterine wall. Amniotic fluid gurgled out as the baby was revealed, and she gently pulled the child from its warm, watery bed.

  With the new-born wrapped, snug and warm, in a clean, white blanket, Victoria slapped her captive in the face until she roused her.

  “Look, Anna!”

  She held the swaddled child out towards her, “It’s a girl!”

  Anna began to weep, but her sobs were suddenly cut short as Victoria squatted down beside her, dragging the razor sharp scalpel across her throat….

  Victoria sat back on her stool, feeling the child’s lungs fill with her first breaths and she held her close as they watched the mother she would never know, take her last.

  The End

  ***

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  Other books by Anton Palmer

  SKEWERED

  Jasmine Taylor, a struggling young actress, responds to a job-ad offering the 'opportunity of a lifetime' for a female with 'hidden depths'. After a bizarre audition, she wakes to find herself a prisoner in a picturesque village.

  The village of Elldean seems timeless - peaceful and idyllic. However, the village hides a dark, terrifying secret - an ancient beast lives in the surrounding forest and, once a year, it emerges from its lair - to mate. The beast is huge and all in proportion - few women are capable of taking it on – and surviving - most are literally skewered to death. But if the beast doesn't get to mate then all hell will break loose.

  For both her sake and that of the village, Jasmine is subjected to an extreme ‘training’ regime that will literally stretch the young woman to her limits, while, at the same time, release her secret, hidden desires.

  Excerpt from Skewered:

  I was naked.

  A strong hand pressed my face down hard into the ground. The odour of damp grass and earth filled my nostrils and bits of dirt coated my lips. Another big hand grabbed my hips, pulling my ass into the air allowing the cool night to wrap itself around my body. The breeze teased my nipples, stiffening them like rock and gently played between my thighs, cold where it kissed my dampness.

  I felt something nudge between my legs – something big - and I let slip a moan of desire as my juices began to flow. The thing nudged harder, stretching my opening. It pushed harder still, stretching me further and I gave a yelp of panic and pain.

  It was too big!

  Much too big…

  The thing pushed again - harder, deeper. I screamed as I felt my perineum rip, the sound of my pain echoing loudly in the stillness of the forest night. My vaginal and anal openings were now as one, giving the thing more space to thrust deeper still…forcing its way in until I sensed something else split…something more vital…something deep in my innards.

  I retched and screamed at the same time as blood poured from my openings. The thing continued to pound me - harder, deeper, faster.

  I vomited on the ground - blood-flecked puke splashing back into my face as the strong grip continued to force my head into the earth. Every thrust seemed to tear my guts further, my insides burning under the assault as if filled with acid, and, just as I thought I could take it no more…it stopped.

  I felt the massive thing slide out of my ruined hole and as I wept into the grass with relief that I was still alive, a howling roar, loud as thunder and full of rage, blasted my eardrums.

  A hand reached under my belly, sharp talons raking across my skin. The razor-like nails seemed to be no more than a scratch and I felt a split-second of distinct surprise as my abdomen suddenly gaped open and my guts fell to the ground with a wet splash.

  I screamed again as the fetid stench of my exposed bowels hit me…then the massive thing entered me once more, penetrating to its hilt. Agony filled every nerve in my body, and I felt my eyes roll in their sockets at the sight of a huge red glans thrusting out of my ruptured belly, squirting thick, bloodied gouts of ejaculate onto the rancid pile of intestines on the ground…

  ***

  I woke up with a scream and sat bolt up
right in my bed, one hand pressed against my belly, trying to hold my insides in.

  I was coated with sweat, my hair hanging damp over my face. I breathed deeply for half a minute until the realisation hit me that it was just a dream – a nightmare - and as I calmed down, I noticed that my pillows were slightly damp…while the sheet between my legs was soaked right through to the mattress.

  MEAT HOOKED

  As a strict vegetarian and confirmed lesbian, Laura has no desire for ‘meat’ of any kind.

  While embarking on a walking holiday during the summer break from university, she finds herself cursed, after an encounter with a beautiful gypsy girl goes awry. Now, with her body literally wasting away before her eyes, Laura’s only hope for survival is to find a constant source of meat’.

  But in a small town, on a Monday evening, where everything except the local pub is closed, can she consume enough to keep herself alive until she can track down the gypsy girl and get the curse removed?

  Not if the butcher's angry wife, armed with a very sharp meat-hook, has anything to do with it!

  Excerpt from Meat Hooked:

  I was lying on a strange bed - wearing only my bra and panties. Sobbing.

  It was a house party. An eighteenth birthday bash for some girl called Mary-Anne - or Mary-Jane…or…Mary-something. I’d gone with my friend Karen, but we’d only been there five minutes when she disappeared with this guy called Greg and I assumed she was now busy enjoying herself in another bedroom. Karen was ‘not shy’ with the boys – if you get what I mean, and despite the fact that she was a little plain and little on the plump side, her easy reputation ensured she was never short of offers. I, on the other hand, was prettier and slimmer. I was fit. I ran, I swam and played netball for the college team, but there was no queue of boys for me.

  Laugh-a-minute-Laura is what they called me – just because I didn’t find the juvenile antics of the college guys particularly funny.

  The-Vegetarian-Virgin was my other moniker, on account of the fact that I rarely ever ate meat and I had no interest in the opposite sex. In fact, my general disinterest in men was the reason I was in my current state – semi-naked and crying.

  ***

  Before I came to the party, I had decided to get drunk - and get fucked.

  I figured that if I finally got laid, maybe that would stimulate, not my libido, but my interest in men. I had a libido. My libido was not the problem - I would often lie in bed at night stroking my pussy, rubbing my clit raw. The trouble was, while other girls were doing the same thing and fantasising about being ‘taken’ by some alpha-billionaire or their college lecturer, I was thinking of…nothing.

  Actually, I was thinking of nothing quite deliberately, because my natural inclination was to think about other girls, and, deep down, though I knew I was a lesbian, I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself just yet.

  Anyway, we got to the party. Karen fucked off with the first boy who spoke to her, so I downed several drinks in quick succession and waited for them to take effect. As soon as I felt the alcohol kicking my common-sense out the door, I made a beeline for a tall, dark-haired guy who’d been giving me coy glances for the last ten minutes. His name was Marcus and we shared some classes, so he was not a total stranger. After making small talk for a minute or so, I swallowed hard, leaned in to his ear and, in the most seductive voice I could muster, whispered, “I want you to fuck me!”

  He didn’t need asking twice. Grabbing my hand, he whisked me upstairs to, what I presumed by the décor, was Mary-whatever’s parent’s room. I pulled him onto the bed, desperate to lose my virginity and prove to myself that I really did want men, not women.

  He lay on top of me and kissed me, hard and deep. The smell of his cheap aftershave, the coarseness of his stubble and the feel of his manly lips completely turned my stomach. I pulled away, eager to end the mouth-to-mouth contact, whipped my dress up over my head and, grabbing his crotch hard, demanded he fuck me…now!

  He seemed more than happy to skip the niceties of foreplay, and hurriedly unfastened his trousers to reveal a rock-hard erection. I hooked my fingers into my panties to slide them off, but Marcus scooted forward, thrusting his eager cock toward my face.

  “Eat my meat, veggie!” he laughed, waggling his shiny wet glans at me.

  I screwed my face up in disgust: oral sex was a perfectly natural heterosexual activity, or at least that’s what I tried to convince myself. I opened my inexperienced mouth wide - probably far wider than I needed to, if I’m being totally honest - took a deep breath and allowed him to slip the end of his cock inside.

  I did my best to suck him but after just twenty or thirty seconds I spat him out and unconsciously slapped his manhood away from me. Surprisingly, perhaps because he was drunk or possibly due to my shitty technique, he didn’t seem particularly put out. He just slid down the bed, pulled my panties to one side and attempted to insert his dick into the next hole of choice.

  I really wanted to enjoy having sex, but, despite my best intentions, the second I felt his penis attempting to enter my vagina, a feeling of complete, nauseating revulsion got the better of me, and I rolled over onto my side, drawing my knees in tight to my belly.

  Now he showed his anger, “Fuck you! You frigid fucking prick-tease.” He pulled his trousers up and stormed out of the room.

  I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. It was time to face facts – I did not want sex with men! So I lay there, in my underwear…crying – listening to the sounds of music and laughter from downstairs while contemplating how to tell my parents that their only daughter was gay, and any fantasies they were harbouring about spoiling future grand-kids could be thrown in the dustbin.

  Minutes later the bedroom door burst open.

  Marcus strode in with two of his mates. He was carrying something in his hand, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. They were laughing loudly as they shut the bedroom door behind them, then stepped over to the bed. The taller of his friends pinned me down, one hand pressed firmly over my mouth, while the other guy whipped of my lacy knickers. Grabbing a leg each, the two of them pulled the limbs back toward my chest, giving clear access to my most intimate parts.

  I felt completely vulnerable, exposed, terrified.

  Marcus knelt on the bed between my open legs and, with an evil grin, held up the contents of his hands: a string of thick, uncooked sausages.

  “I think it’s time the Veggie-Virgin had some fucking meat inside her!”

  His mates laughed again and I gave a muffled squeal of horror as I felt Marcus’s rough fingers insert the first sausage into my virgin hole.

  “How’s that feel baby? You like having some meat in your pussy?”

  I shook my head hard, attempting to dislodge the hand that was clamped tight over my mouth, and tried to shout.

  A second sausage was pushed in. I squirmed in discomfort, tears running from my eyes. He tried to force a third sausage into me, his fingers having to jab the raw meat hard into my full-up vagina.

  I gave a cry - it was hurting now.

  Marcus just laughed again. “I bet you’re just loving having your virgin cunt filled up aren’t you baby?”

  I gave another muffled scream and tried to bite into the hand covering my mouth.

  “I think she’s had enough now, Marcus.” One of his mates was either taking pity on me, or, more likely, starting to ponder the legal ramifications of their actions. With his mates no longer on side, Marcus gave a snort and dropped the string of sausages onto the bed - my vagina immediately expelling the rest.

  He was not quite finished yet. He picked up the clump of split and mangled sausage and held it up to my face. I could see streaks of blood - my blood - glistening on the meat, and on his fingers. Yanking his friend’s hand from my face, Marcus jammed the raw meat into my mouth. And, clamping one of his own hands over my lips and squeezing my nostrils tight with his other, he forced me to swallow the uncooked mess.

  I choked it down, gagging and retchin
g. The taste of my own vaginal blood mixed with the raw meat immediately causing my belly to spasm in readiness to throw it back up, and, as soon as Marcus took his hand away and the three of them ran out of the room, I puked the contents of my stomach onto Mary-whatever-her-name’s parents’ bedroom floor.

  At that moment, I finally knew two things for certain.

  One: I was a full-blooded lesbian, and two: I was never, ever going to touch meat again!

  SLAY BELLES

  Jimmy is a bad husband. In a last ditch attempt to save their troubled marriage his wife, Angela, books them a romantic Christmas break at a remote inn.

  When her elderly mother is suddenly taken ill, Angela has to dash off, leaving her husband alone at the inn on Christmas Eve with only the beautiful, sexy twins who run the place to keep him company.

  Jimmy thinks he’s in for an evening of fun and games – and he is! But the games these sick, twisted sisters like to play will ensure that this will most definitely not be a Silent Night!

  Excerpt from Slay Belles:

  Apart from a mouldy tinge of green around the eyes, the girl’s face was completely white. As if all her blood had been drained away. Jimmy stared, unblinking, into her dark eyes as she slowly crawled across the floor towards him, a look of desperate hunger on her face. Her schoolgirl’s uniform was filthy and torn: the blood-stained, white blouse missing a few buttons allowing him a great view of her unfettered breasts, swinging from side to side as she ambled her way forwards. Her short, plaid skirt rode high on her hips, ripped black stockings laddering her smooth, pale thighs. Stopping just in front of Jimmy, the girl twitched her head to one side, a wild stare in her eyes. She gave a deep, throaty growl, then leapt at him.