1. Policewomen: Trina's Inferno


    Date: 8/11/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Bondage and restriction, Cruelty, Death, Extreme, Horror, Male Domination, Murder, Non-consensual sex, Rape, Snuff, Torture, Violence, Voyeurism, Author: tw_holt, Rating: 82.4, Source: sexstories.com

    out of a coffin. “Our men. We were abducted, beaten, and brought here. They said we were guilty of not believing our husbands loved us, not realizing how good we had it.” “Go, down the hall, quickly. Help her,” Trina said, handing another woman to the first woman she freed. Trina watched them make their way down the hall, wincing in pain, when she inhaled too deeply. She had to keep going. Sounds of cheering took her by surprise. She heard a man’s voice, followed by a few women, cheering, egging someone on. Creeping down the hall, the sounds got louder. She could make out what they were yelling. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” several people were chanting. Violence Trina listened at the door where she heard the chanting. From what she could tell, the room sounded large, the chants echoing off walls. Then she heard a gunshot, then silence. “I need that shotgun,” she whispered. Finding the empty gun, thinking she could use it to trick anyone into thinking it was loaded, probably like the oaf that knocked her out did, she went back to the larger room. Slowly opening the door she saw a very well light room. Trina peeped in. It looked more like a warehouse, not a makeshift corridor of low-lit rooms. She wondered why whoever converted this abandoned building for their perverse needs left this area alone. Trina soon found out why. It was being used as a fighting arena. She saw several dead bodies strewn about. She saw a man drag away the latest victim. “That’s what happens when you refuse ...
    to fight. Fight or die!” a man said. He was carrying a nine millimeter handgun. “Who’s next?” “You?” he pointed a gun at one of the women crouching in the corner, she stood and nodded her head. “Good! That’s one fighter. Who will fight her? Fight or die,” he said scanning the room for another woman, an opponent for the first. The man was huge and muscular, wearing a tight t-shirt, cargo pants, and boots. He reminded Trina of a drill sergeant from her police academy days. “You?” he asked another woman, she shook her head. He grabbed her arm, gun to her head, pulling her to the center of the room, tossing her on the concrete. “Your answer is no?” he asked her. “Please, don’t. Please let me go,” she begged. Trina decided to act, hoping she could trick him with the empty shotgun. “GET DOWN! NOW! ON THE GROUND!” she barged into the room, pointing the gun at him, yelling. “Whoa, whoa, easy, easy,” he calmly said, watching Trina take her aim. “I’m going to put the gun down. Let’s all remain calm.” Confused, Trina watched him slowly set his gun on the concrete. She moved in front of the naked women crouched in a corner, her eyes not turning away from the large man. “There. See? Now, I think you should put yours down too. Because you and I both know it’s empty,” the man said. Trina glared at him. “I know who you took it from. He loves that shotgun. He keeps it empty though. We want all the women we bring here to live long enough to experience their special treatment,” the man said. “So ...
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