Mark loved himself - there was no doubt about it. He was a model, he had girls clinging onto him at all times, and the World told him that he was beautiful. He had worked hard for it. All of those hours in the gym had paid off. He could have any woman he wanted, and often did, and he knew that they should be grateful for a night with him.
He had been chatting to a stunning girl on Facebook. He was exactly his type: petite, blonde and slutty. They had been messaging each other furiously for the last few weeks, and he had finally decided to meet up with her. 'She is gonna get the fuck of a lifetime', he thought arrogantly as he waited at the small rural pub where they had agreed to meet.
It was getting dark, but he knew that even in the poor light he looked good. Tight jeans and a spray-on white t-shirt. He thumbed through his phone casually. 'Ugh - more messages from absolute pigs'. He deleted them quickly.
A sudden noise from behind him made him look up, but before he knew it, a hand was over his mouth and he was being dragged backwards. The hand reeked, an unwashed smell, and he struggled with his powerful body. The owner of the hand was stronger, and fist beat into his head mercilessly as he was pulled. He tried to scream, but the inhalation of the rancid smell made him gag. He could see that the pub was full of people, focused on the rugby game, and he prayed that someone would turn to the window and see what was happening.
He was pulled into a van, and was unceremoniously dumped into the back. It was filthy, old rope and large metal hooks everywhere. He started to scream, but the large van door closed shut, and in the pitch darkness, he settled and tried to get his bearings. The van started up, and a terrible gassy smell filled the back. The started to feel drowsy. "Let... lemme out... let...". He passed out quietly.
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All Mark could feel was pain as he slowly came around. He realised that his hands were tied above him, and he opened his eyes carefully. He was in a dark, damp room. There were no windows, and the only light was a faint bulb swinging quietly in front of him. The smell was unbelievable. The entire room was rotting. He gagged slightly, his dry throat and eyes struggling against the odour. He tried to speak, but his lips were so cracked and his throat so dry he could only manage a croak.
He heard a faint shuffling noise, growing louder, and he squinted against the dark and focused on a doorway in front of him. The noise drew ever nearer, and he made out something that was slithering along the floor towards him. It was a man, at least, it looked like a man, except it had no arms or legs. He made out crude stumps in their place, and his heart seemed to stop as fear took over.
The man looked up at him. It was a young man, maybe a few years older than Mark - he could tell. Yet he looked far older than his years. One eye was missing, a violent scar in its place, and its neck held a scar in the same vain. It stared intently at Mark, and then began slowly rocking from side to side. It seemed to be excited - and it made mumbling noises. 'Ungh - ungh!' It slithered closer.
Mark tried to move backwards, but his arms held him in place, a tight prison that rooted him to the spot. "Please..." he managed. "Oh shit, please". It stopped in front of Mark, craning its neck upwards. Its mouth opened - and Mark could see that nails had been jabbed into the gums instead of teeth. Old, rusty nails - sharp. Before he knew what was happening, Mark's perfect foot was in the things mouth, and it bit down hard.
He yelped in pain, and moved his foot away. Skin ripped off it as the nails dug in. He managed to wrestle his foot free, and the man wriggled in pain as it chewed loudly, its meal interrupted by the agony of chewing with nails. Mark began to cry. 'What the fuck is going on?'
"I see you have met my pet," came a gruff voice from the dark. Mark looked up to see the silhouette of a man in the doorway. He was huge, maybe 6'10", with a massive build. The man walked into the light. "He hasn't eaten for a few days - I'm afraid that my slave gathering efforts have been slowed down".
The man was hideous. His face disfigured, large humps around his head, and the smell. He reeked. Mark gagged audibly. He saw a flash of anger cross the man's eyes. "I am your master now".
"Please," Mark said. "What do you want from me?"
"Your beauty," the Master said. "Look at my pet, do you think it is beautiful?"
The pet looked up at Mark hopefully. "No!" Mark said, drawing indignation from the pet in the form of more mumbles. The Master laughed. "It was once like you. It was lucky - it survived. Wasn't it?" The Master kicked the pet in the side. The pet nodded eagerly. "I have a present for you my slave".
The Master opened a large box at the other end of the room, and brought over the head of the girl Mark was set to meet at the pub. Her eyes were missing, and her neck had been crudely hacked at. "Here is your beau". Mark screamed, doing his best to look away. Fear gripped him. "Please".
"Kiss her..." the Master said. "KISS HER!" Mark spat in the Master's face. The Master punched Mark, hard. He saw stars for a moment, before the Master grabbed him by the genitals. He squeezed Mark's cock, causing the young stud to almost pass out from the pain. "ARGH!" The Master tore Mark's proud penis off - a torrent of blood following it, and he nonchallantly threw it to the pet, who began to devour it eagerly.
To be continued...
