“Shit, she’s in for a rough ride,” Cyril smirked to himself returning to his computer to view the illicit videos and stills he had archived. “...uite right too, fucking bitches.”Nigel Perkentrude lay tied in the back of the Transit van, unaware his lovely only child was sandwiched happily up front. He was rolling painfully between the leg of an upturned cement mixer that stabbed into his battered, bruised lower back and a bundle of spades and shovel blades behind his swollen neck. Hands tied with. I shifted away slightly, afraid of what he was going to do. ‘Have you ever been fucked, Angel?’ he asked, pronunciating the word fucked. ‘I – uh,…I mean, well, sorta.’ ‘Well, in plain language that means no to me.’ He said. ‘Well, me and Jake fooled around a little. I touched ‘it” Josh laughed. ‘That’s what I thought. And what did Jake do to you?’ ‘Nothing really…. After he, you know – cam – he said he had to go home.’ ‘I see,’ Josh said. ‘So he never did this?’ he said as he reached for an. More

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