Peachy Keen Films – Deadly Interrogation 3

Peachy Keen Films – Deadly Interrogation 3

Categories: Death Fetish, Necro, Brutal Amazons, Fantasy Snuff, Petra

Description: She was in over her head and she would pay the ultimate price. Cute, savvy, Nicole knew there were risks, but the level of risk—what they would actually do to her, was beyond her comprehension. Poor, poor girl.

It was late. The office was closed. There she was, checking desks, looking for the login at Marcys desk so she would be able to get into her her bosses desk and get the folder. Then, she would be out. A done deal and a big pay da
She always felt security at this company was a little extreme, and when Mr. Extreme himself yanked her back, demanding answer, she sputtered out lies as best she could. Unfortunately, her story was flawed and the big security man started beating the shit out of her. First, a pistol whip. Once she was on the cool floor, he cuffed her and commenced with the ass kicking. He brutally kicked and stomped her until she was blubbering and delirious. Then, he stood her up, pistol to her breast demanding she tell him who she worked for. Silence. It was her best defense–or so she was taught.

He pummeled and beat her some more and when she was on the floor he put his 45cal Desert Eagle in her mouth and asked nicely–nice for him at least. She just sobbed and he knocked her out and dragged her off.

Later, her had her over at warehouse building 6. This was his place–no employees, just the crew knew the deal. Tonight, he was alone–except for his guest. He would have some fun with her and she would tell him. They always did.

First, he gave her the shot–a special serum that enhanced stamina. He liked them awake while he was working on them. So, he beat her some more. When she spit out a tooth, he knew it was time to move on. She was a tough, albeit, whinny little bitch. Trained well. But she would break.

The plier were next. he broke 3 of her fingers before deciding she was noisy, but would scream through the 7 left before talking. So, he moved the plier to her nipples. They were poking out through her tight sweater like she was forever cold and a perfect fit between the metal jaws. It was almost as if she was daring him with her look of utter terror. Oh well. He clamped down.

What happened next was horrible—for any onlooker—for him, nipple were his breakfast and he ripped this one right off and showed it too her. Oh, oh, don’t pass out–not yet. She didn’t and with glee he moved on to the other one, same trick, different side. As he watched the blood pour out of the meaty hold that once held her subtle woman part, he looked down at his blood pliers. He knew what was next and slide the metal jaws between her legs. The crunch, the streams of blood. She went out this time.

Later, he had her tied on an x-frame. His own design just for this purpose. It was a makeshift rack and using a ratchet, her arms were being pulled tighter and tighter. She was awake and screaming every moment. He was not even asking her questions anymore–just having fun.

Next, the hot iron. Branding her on both breast and pussy. She actually talked–or tried to, but the info was nothing. Nothing. So, he kept it up. Now the metal pipe–working her over, leaving no spot un hit. The best was the one to the side of her head. Every time, blood shot–pouring, spitting out of her mouth. Her eyes rolling up, moans, screams. Guttural sounds of terror. Music to his ears.

The hammer was next. It was tapered at one end, so he used it with precision starting with her ankles–hitting them over and over and over until the flesh was torn chucks and her bones were broken. He moved on to her other ankle, breaking them both. Then, he just hit her randomly all over, making meaty bloody holes in her body. Then, he whacked her on the head. She was almost out when he decided to finish her. He grabbed her throat, strangling her as blood poured out of her mouth and her eyes rolled up. Then, she was still.

He called his boss to report what he learned. Only, in the background, he could not see, she cracked her eyes open–the quickly pretended to be dead as he untiled her and let her flop to the floor. He left.

She pushed herself up, pulling herself forward, sliding on her own blood, legs almost useless–broken ankles. She made it too the table, found his phone, and planned to grab the gun. Making the call, she was in panic mode–help, help. But, then the wood club knocked her out.

He got lucky. He will tell his bosses that he knew she was not dead but wanted her to get to the phone. Now he had the number. Actually, he was not that smart–but it worked out anyhow. He grabbed the barb wire and wrapped it around her neck. She fought vigorously against it. The wire was cutting deep into her neck and blood poured out. She was trying so hard to live–she fought so hard, took so much punishment, it would be a shame to go like this. But he would say, life is not pretty, doll, and this is it for you. He pulled tighter, watching her body go into involuntary spasms before slowing and ultimately she was still.

He left her their. She was a mess. His whole workshop was a mess with her DNA. He would call the cleaners. They always did him right. Fucking bitch…she never had a chance.

Deadly Interrogation 3.mp4