Later that Saturday
The girls fell asleep together in a pile of bedding in the downstairs bedroom. Montana said something about side effects and sleep walking, but nobody was paying attention. Kurt passed out first in the living room. Austin and Greg fell asleep on the porch while taking turns at the keg. Drew was in the kitchen downing bottles until he slumped on the floor.
Kurt was kneeling when he woke up. His dick was hard. He was staring into somebody's hole. There was some stubble, but he couldn't figure out what kind of hole it was or whose. He didn't care about that. He only cared why he couldn't feel his hand on his dick. And why there was a scraping sound. When the scraping was joined by dripping, he looked down. He couldn't feel his hand because someone had put a utility glove over his jerking off hand. There was something metal on the glove, but he could barely see it under the blood.
Something was splashing now. Kurt turned his eyes back to the stubbly hole and kept tugging, trying to finish. He couldn't cum, and everything turned black.
Drew felt cold tile on his back. His feet were in the air, and his crotch felt cool. He tried to move, but it hurt his throat to move his legs. He couldn't feel his hands, and it took a while to figure out that they were behind his back. When he managed to open his eyes he was blinded by the glare of the fluorescent kitchen lights. His eyes focused on red lines cut into his raised knees. Something was happening to his asshole, and he heard some squishing.
Fishing line. His knees were tied to his throat with fishing line. And his hands as well. He felt some pressure in his bowels, a little stinging. He remembered telling that pep squad freshman that it wouldn't hurt, it just felt like taking a shit.
The pressure was relieved, and a hand passed in front of the ceiling lights. The hand wafted a latex cock in front of Drew's face, before bringing it slapping across his face. Drew flinched, more at the smell of shit than the impact.
"Get the fuck off," he mumbled, trying to move his head. Fishing line cut into his skin as he squirmed. The hand went away. Drew felt his wrists. His fingers were tied together, then the wrists, then the arms. Everything was wrapped up tied in thin, strong nylon.
The hand came back. The latex dildo was glinting. Drew squinted until he could make out the fishhooks sticking into the latex. The hand went down. Drew held his breath as it slid in. Some prickling and stinging, but it wasn't too bad going in.
Drew exhaled right before it was ripped out of him. It got stuck halfway out, and it took two more pulls to get it free. He heard tearing, then dripping. He tried not to move his legs, but the line was burrowing into the back of his neck. His fingertips ran over knots in the line behind his back. There was a knocking sound. The hand came back. The dildo had a row of nails, the points running down towards the pair of fake balls at the base.
Drew began to pull his hands apart. He thought he heard the line tear, but it was his skin. The dildo only made it halfway in the first try. A couple steps back, then a kick got it in deeper. Drew's face bulged purple as he kicked his legs up. The fishing line was past the flesh and cutting deeper into muscle and between his neck bones. The cock came out, and Drew could hear his insides being pulled with it.
Austin didn’t realize until the third blow that someone was hitting him in the mouth with a hammer. At first he just tasted the blood and rolled the shards of broken teeth around with his tongue. It started hurting at the fourth blow, which cracked his jaw. He tried to figure out why he couldn’t move his head. Two pieces of wood pressed against the sides of his skull, some wire or fishing line wrapped around under his chin. He opened his eyes to find his head pointed up at a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He could see it wasn’t a hammer. It was bigger, more of a mallet.
After the next blow, Austin could feel air blowing on exposed roots. He wasn’t able to shut his mouth. He heard the mallet fall to the ground, then some clanking of metal. A sock got stuffed in his mouth towards the back of his throat. Austin tried to move his arms. More fishing line wrapped around his arms and binding his hands together. He realized he was sitting on the floor, a cinderblock between his knees. Something was wrong with his legs.
A pair of pliers were held in front of his eyes for just a second, then dove into his mouth, tearing out the rest of his teeth, along with chunks of cheek and lip that got in the way. Blood started to soak through the sock into the back of his throat. Austin made himself swallow to avoid choking on it. He groaned and coughed but did not have the energy to scream. It took all of his will between pulls to get another breath of air through his nose.
The pliers went away, replaced with a wood clamp. It pressed against exposed roots as the screws turned, ripping the already shredded corners of his mouth. Another clamp went against the other side. Austin wasn’t sure if he heard the screw creaking or if it was bones in his jaw. The blood soaked sock came out. Austin had to keep swallowing the flow of blood to keep from drowning.
He didn’t react quickly enough to move his tongue when the metal pipe was rammed in his mouth. It folded in half as the pipe slid into his throat, not quite tearing at the root. Hands twisted the pipe, sliding it deeper into his esophagus. He gagged, but the stomach fluids didn’t make it out of his mouth, sliding back down the pipe. Bile and blood dripped into his lungs.
A hand held out a white pipe with jagged ends for Austin to see. As it started to slide neatly into the metal pipe, he realized it was a fluorescent light tube with the ends broken off. He started to gag again when he felt the end poke the bottom of his stomach. The metal pipe slowly slid out of his throat, leaving the light tube. Austin want to scream, the cough, to puke, but only let himself breathe the little he could with the room left in his throat.
Someone stood over him, blocking out the light above. He could smell the piss as it splashed down his nostrils, in his mouth, and down the tube. Austin could feel the glass crack as he squirmed.
A light bulb popped easily into his spread open mouth. The second one fit tighter. The wood clamps came out, the bulbs holding Austin’s shattered jaw open. A creaking turn and the vice clamping his head was loosened. Austin’s head started to droop, but the resistance inside his throat made him keep his head tilted back. He didn’t see the mallet before it swing up under his chin.
More cracks in the tube inside him as he struggled away from the mallet. Several more blows ground up the bulbs, glass tinkling as it bounced down the tube. The fishing line cut into Austin’s wrists and arms. The mallet slammed against his Adam’s apple. Austin’s last breaths weren’t of air, only blood and broken glass.
Greg didn't remember getting on the toilet. The smell of his runny shit woke him up and hit his stomach. He scooted back on the toilet seat and puked on his lap. Vomit poured over his dick into the bowl. He flushed the mess down. As he stood up another fart sprayed brown below him. He turned this time to puke, flushing it down as he went.
As the running toilet died down he heard the tinkling of glass. He took a step as he tried to pull his pants up. Something stung his foot and he fell to his knees. More shattering. Beer bottles flew through the open doorway, smashing against the inside walls.
"Cut that shit out!" he yelled, examining the gash on the bottom of his foot. The bottles came faster, raining glass shards over Greg's head.
Someone stepped in the doorway, dragging a plastic trash can full of beer bottles. The bottles started flying at Greg's head instead of the wall. Greg flailed his arms around, falling bare assed on broken glass. The bottles stopped. He heard a scraping. The head of a sledgehammer scraping the bathroom tile.
Greg tried to crawl between the toilet and bathtub. The sledgehammer knocked a dent in the ceiling on the way up, and shattered Greg's shin on the way down. It went up more carefully this time, and came down on Greg's forearm. The metal slammed bone into porcelain, and broke a chunk off the toilet bowl.
Greg tried crawling into the bathtub. He pulled his torso inside, his legs on the tile floor, his ass bent over the side of the tub. A beer bottle slipped into his asshole, shit and blood lubing its entrance. Greg tried reaching back with his good hand. The hammer swung between his legs like a croquet mallet, ramming the bottle in. Another blow came down on his tailbone, shattering glass.
Another bottle slid in, only making it halfway. The sledgehammer broke this one in half. Glass shards fell with blood and shit. The next bottle made it all the way in. The hammer cracked vertebrae and ground glass into bone. The next bottles were hammered into gashes that might not have been an asshole.
"The fuck?" Montana woke up and looked at her hand. Something wet and sticky squirted at her face from where her fingers were supposed to be. She tried to focus her eyes, but didn't manage before the axe came down on her other hand. She heard the metal bury into the laminate floor before she felt it. She pulled away, her fingers dangling in odd directions, redness spraying.
Montana got to her feet and started towards the door. Something tugged into her waist as she moved. Someone was struggling with the axe. Montana made it through the door frame. A loop of barbed wire was tied around her waist, slowing her down and pricking her skin. She tried feeling for a knot, but only her thumbs worked anymore.
The axe came down, scraping the back of her calf and cutting off her left heel. Montana stumbled two steps to the second floor railing and tried to grab on. Her wet hands slipped and she slumped over the wood. Somebody grabbed her feet and tipped her over the edge. Her head hit the stair railing, the barbed wire around her waist slowing her fall. Her weight tightened the loop and she was unable to use her hands to loosen it.
Montana stood up on the wrong foot and fell to the ground again. She heard someone coming down the stairs. She got up and dragged her half foot toward the front door. A line of barbed wire trailed behind her from the second floor, the barbs catching and slipping over the railing. She made it to the front door, but her hands were too wet to work the knob.
She took a deep breath. "You can do this, Montana," she muttered, and looked at the door. She turned the deadlock open with a working thumb, and turned the knob with both elbows. She smiled and exhaled as the front door cracked open. Then the axe came down on her right foot. A foot stomped on the axehead, shearing off the front half.
The front door was opened and Montana was pushed through it. She stumbled over the porch steps, pulling the line of barbed wire behind her. She fell onto her elbows, and while she tried to figure out how she would stand the axe came down on her forearm. It broke bone but didn't cut all the way through. Montana jumped to her feet and hobbled a few steps before the axe swung into the back of her knee.
Montana was still crawling on the grass after both her feet came off, but stopped after losing the first arm.
"How could I not feel that?" Hayley thought, looking at the barbed wire coming out of her stomach. "Jesus, I must be fucked..."
She felt it when it started to pull again. The barbs widened the pinpoint hole in her flesh as they tore out of her.
"How is this coming out of my stomach?" Then she felt a barb tear through the skin in her back. It was sliding through her.
She tried moving her arms. They were tied together above her head to the closet door knob. She felt pricks at her wrists as she pulled. More barbed wire. There were some people moving around in the doorway in front of her. It sounded like Montana.
The barbed wire continued to unspool, widening the wounds. Red chunks stuck to the barbs as they came out. Several feet of it suddenly flew through her in seconds. The barbs cut into spinal cord and bone as the wire threaded between two vertebrae. The hole had been oozing red, but something ripped inside her and the blood started gushing.
A few seconds respite, and the pulling started again. Hayley leaned to the side to try to get the barbs away from her spine. Her legs weren't working right. As she leaned, the wire started slicing to the side. She thought maybe if she kept leaning, it would cut all the way to the side and be out of her. It struck her as a stupid idea, but she couldn't figure out why.
She watched the chunks being pulled out of her get bigger and darker. A barb caught on her intestine, and the hole in her stomach was big enough to let it slip out. Hayley died laughing at the sight of it being uncoiled and dragged out of the room.