Torture Porn Read online

  Torture Porn

  Written by John Putignano

  Written by John Putignano

  2014 Copyright John Putignano

  Some stories originally appeared in 2012 Rotting Erotica, Rotting Erotica 2 and 2013 Hell Birth. All stories have been re-edited and changed since their original publication

  All Rights Reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced, except for brief passages for reviews.

  Self-Published by Createspace

  Entheogenic Lab

  www.malkuth.us

  FIRST EDITION PRINTING

  I dedicate this book to my wife Patricia. I know you refuse to read my stories because you are afraid to know horrors my mind can produce and for that I truly love you.

  In memory of Sharon Putignano

  WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT THE STORIES IN THIS BOOK

  “Description was amazing. It painted the grim and disturbing mood of a literal hellhole effectively. And it created some horrifying scenes.”

  “That was horrifically amazing. The author gave me all the detail I needed to set the scene but then let me picture how the twisted characters would look. That was literal art.”

  “Rings like Clive Barker's novella "The Hellbound Heart," a.k.a. Hellraiser, but more erotic and less cerebral. Thematically, both had a similar theme of exploration of taboos and pleasure.”

  “It was foreign and beautiful. It reminds me almost of a horror fairy tale.”

  “This is fucking disgusting. How can you write something about this and not be ashamed of yourself? Shame on fucking you”

  “John has raised the standard, each and every story was well written, thought out with a perfected blend of morbidity, filth, or just down right deranged seasoning.”

  “Wow! Talk about extreme, this is THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE of literature! I almost feel bad giving this book a favorable review, but I will because this is the first book I ever read that came with a warning. If you like sick and twisted, you will love this book...if not, you were warned!”

  TABLE OF CONTENT

  LONG PIG

  TORTURE PORN

  HELL BIRTH

  THE SHUT-IN

  VISITORS TO THE WIDOW BANE

  THE THIN GREY MEN

  THE INCIDENT AT BLEAK RIDGE LAKE

  TRANSLUCENCE

  THE NEBRASKA MOLOCH

  MORTUARY CHILD

  THE ODD TALE OF ISABELLA AND LADY BELLAMY

  THE HEAD

  WAY DOWN IN THE HOLE

  THE INCIDENT AT BLEAK RIDGE LAKE

  REUNION IN HELL

  THE CORPSE WHORE

  NECROCHILD

  CORPSE FARM

  Long Pig

  “Our sales were up from last month and our stocks have increased quite a bit; up 2.96. I see a lot of great news coming in and I am sure we all have secured our quarterly bonus.”

  The meeting room all applauded as Max Rutten modestly held his hands up.

  “I couldn’t have done it without all of you. Honestly, your hard work and sacrifices have all paid off and allowed me to bring this good news to the table.”

  He felt the phone vibrating in his pocket. He smiled at his co-workers as he made his way back to his chair. A man next to him gripped Max’s shoulder and gave him a thumb up. Once he sat down, he pulled out his phone. He had a text message.

  2435 Hazy Creek Edge

  8:00 PM Sharp

  As his boss continued the meeting, Max obsessively read and re-read the text message. All morning he had been excited about this conference, to deliver this good news, but now he was impatiently waiting for the minutes to count down. Tonight everything was about to change, he just hoped he didn’t get cold feet.

  As soon as the meeting concluded, Max made his way to the bathroom. With a well-manicured finger, he scrolled through the contacts of his cell phone and dialed a number.

  “Hey Max honey, how was your meeting?”

  “Baby, it was amazing, nothing short of it.”

  “When will you be home?”

  “Well, we are having a few drinks at the hotel bar so I think it might be a late night. I wouldn’t wait up hun; you know how these meetings go.”

  “Yeah I do; cocaine and hookers.”

  “Please baby, my days of hookers and cocaine are long behind me.”

  “I know sweetie. Well, you be good. Don’t get too drunk, and if you do, make sure you take a cab home .”

  “Ok. Goodnight sugar.” Max anxiously ended the call and stared into the mirror. His hair was perfect, parted on the right side of his head in a perfect line. His Versace eyeglasses sat perfectly upon his well-defined face. His skin was flawless with a smooth shave. This was the face of a wealthy, successful, all-American businessman…but the mind inside was far from normal.

  He needed to find a way to duck out of this place. He needed to get to that address…he couldn’t afford to miss this night. It had taken him months reach out to those who shared his fetish; his obsession. Tonight, he finally got to indulge.

  The bathroom door opened and in walked a fit, young man named Clayton Kettler. He was a rising star in the company, a real prodigy at only twenty-seven-years-old. He walked over to the sink and like a magician he revealed a small clear tube full of their favorite white powder.

  “Want to do a line, bro?”

  Before Max could answer, Clayton already had some of the powder dumped out. He used a corporate credit card to form the small pile into four perfect lines. Max shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the rolled up one hundred dollar bill Clayton handed him. Like a vacuum, he snorted two lines and passed the bill.

  “I definitely could use it.”

  “Hey bro, your hard work keeps bringing me the money to buy this magical white powder. Want to go get a woman in town? My treat.”

  “Na, I got to leave. My wife is expecting me.”

  “Listen to you man. I offer free strange pussy and you want to go home to the wife. You’re whipped man.”

  “When you finally get some pubes, you will understand.”

  With this Clayton laughed as he bent down to snort his two lines. Max made his way for the door when Clayton shouted behind him.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. If only Clayton knew.

  ***

  As he pulled his car into 2435 Hazy Creek Edge the guard at the front gate checked his ID. After examining the license, he nodded. “They are expecting you Mr. Rutten. At the front door, a valet will take your vehicle and a butler will lead you in. Enjoy your evening.”

  Max nodded as he drove his silver Mercedes up the curving driveway, his way illuminated by small glass globes of light... As he approached the front door, he felt an overwhelming excitement.

  “Mr. Rutten, I will take your vehicle. I assume the title is signed over and inside?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Very well sir.” As soon as Max stepped out, another man greeted him.

  “Welcome Mr. Rutten. They are waiting for you. Please, come this way and we will prepare you for the event.”

  “Very well, lead the way.”

  They entered the house. The main hall was breathtakingly beautiful. Hanging in the center was a crystal chandelier. The shadows it cast jumped all over the room. The carpet was amazing, a Persian import for sure. He walked across it in his leather Italian shoes and let his feet sink into the soft fabric.

  The butler led him to a room. “This is where I leave you, sir. Please get undressed and meet the rest of the guests in the main hall. When you are ready, simply walk out to the left and follow until you see the party. They are anxiously awaiting your arrival, sir.”

  With this, the butler left and Max walked over to a v
anity. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved his phone and searched for his wife’s number. He dangled his finger over the call button, but stopped short of pressing it.

  He wanted to call her, but knew it would be a bad idea. Hearing her voice would bring him back to reality. He would realize the insanity in all this. He would go home and return to his mundane world wondering what he gave up this night. He loved his wife, but his obsession pushed him.

  Instead, he put down the phone. He began to take off his expensive suit. With each article of clothing, he neatly folded it and placed it in a pile. On top, he placed his leather shoes, the ones with the perfect shine. Now, completely naked, he looked at himself in the vanity mirror.

  He had muscles, tone, a perfect stomach; he was well-endowed and always had a year-round tan. His wife back home was a gorgeous hard body herself. She was a gym rat and nutrition nut. Their house was full of all the things anyone could ever want…his life was perfect, yet why was he here?

  He knew that after tonight many lives would change, including his. He knew this whole thing was insane; no normal person would come here. This fetish, which began as a titillating search on the internet, had developed into an obsession. This macabre fascination drove him mad with sexual arousal.

  He knew there was no turning back. He had to commit.

  He made his way into the hallway. The air was full of drunken laugher; people having a good time. He continued on, following the sounds.

  In the main hall were nearly two dozen men and women. They were all well-dressed and each one wore a beautifully decorated Venetian mask. They all froze as he entered. Silence fell over the crowd.

  “Our guest of honor has arrived. Are our appetites strong?” A man asked. To this they all yelled out in joy. The man approached Max and held out a hand. “Please, take my hand and let me show you something.”

  Max reached out and gripped the man’s gloved hand. He allowed the man to lead him deeper into the room. Many of the guests were licking their lips and one woman nervously sipped her wine to hide her excitement.

  The host brought Max to a wall. On it were pictures of good looking men and woman. In each, the person was naked and standing in this exact room.

  “You see this one here. It is dated 1923. This is the year our Order of Tantalus was formed. Her name was Natasha Vates. She was a Russian immigrant who worked at a cat house. She was depressed, and one night, she tried to kill herself. Then she met a man who understood her sorrow.

  “My great-grandfather, Irwin Leishner was a wealthy man and rather extravagant. He discovered early in life that he had a taste for human meat. You see, during World War One, while in the trenches, he came across a German man. This soldier was a casualty of a flame thrower. Irwin was trapped in the trench for three days. He ran out of ammo, food and water. In an act of desperation, he used a knife to cut away the burn exterior to where it was more…tender.

  “When he met Natasha he expressed a desire to eat her. At first, she was disgusted, but after a few days, she warmed up to the idea. My great-grandfather took this picture of her just moments before he laid her on a table and ate her…alive.”

  Max couldn’t hide his erection. The conversations all around proved that they welcomed his arousal. “So now, this leads to you.”

  A woman approached them with a camera and took a picture of Max. She smiled as she looked at it in the digital display.

  “This came out perfect.” She spoke in a soft voice. “You look very nice, Mr. Rutten.”

  “Thank you.” Max responded.

  “Max, this night we both will indulge in our fetish. We, the Order of Tantalus, will indulge in devouring you alive. You will enjoy being eaten alive. That is what separates us from criminals. We do not need to force people to fulfill our needs; willing sacrifices are everywhere. We are not criminals; we are not thugs. We are the ones who run this country’s corporations, military, government and banks. We are professionals just like you.” Max looked at the wall. There was a picture for every month of every year; willing sacrifices. Soon, he would be added to this wall.

  “I’m honored. How do we do this?” Max asked. The host could barely hide his smile as he grabbed hold of Max’s arm and brought him to a table.

  The table was short, the length of a body, and made of African Blackwood. Upon it Max took his place.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the Order of Tantalus; this month, our feast will be Sir Maximilian Rutten. This fine young man will go down in history among the likes of the great and beautiful Natasha Vates. Now get your cutlery in order.” With this the masked guests all reached into their pockets and eagerly pulled out silver forks and knives. Looking at Max, the host said, “These forks and knives have been with the order for many years now. This cutlery has cut and pulled apart the meat of men and women and tonight the tradition continues. Mr. Rutten, I ask you to lie down in the center of the table.” Max dropped down and spread out upon the table. The guests all gathered around him. “Now, let us indulge.”

  For the first time that evening he felt guilt. He thought of his wife and children. He imagined the misery and sadness as they wondered what had happen to him.

  He felt an urge to flee as he stared at the shiny cutlery. He battled it, fought with the good sense to get up and run from this place. This fetish the internet called Vorarephilia had destroyed his life. And now here he was. He knew there was no turning back.

  The group feverishly began to stick their forks into his body. He felt their knives cutting into his flesh. He screamed in both pain and pleasure. He looked down and saw chunks of his meat being pulled away from his body and shoveled into the mouths of those too eager to even chew it before swallowing. All around him were bloody masks as arteries were nicked and blood began to pour heavily out of his body.

  A fork jammed into his eye. He felt the metal inside the jelly-like material as the partaker scooped it out like it was ice cream. Max watched with his good eye as the woman sucked it down. All around him they devoured, feverishly pulling meat, and now entrails, from his body... As the room began to fade to black and he began to die, he imagined his meat inside all their stomachs, being digested.

  The butler walked down the hall and into the room where Max had changed. He emotionlessly picked up the clothes and placed them in a plastic bag. A vibrating sound captured his attention. It was Max’s phone.

  The butler picked it up and saw that he had received a picture message. He pressed accept and opened it. In the picture was a beautiful brown-haired woman sitting on a couch with two cute children; one boy and one girl. Below the picture, the text read Daddy come home soon mommy and us miss you so much.

  The butler closed the phone and tossed it into the bag. He exited the room and made his way to the front door. Outside he handed the bag off to a man posting security. The man took the bag down a walkway which wrapped the house. He made his way to what looked like a mausoleum.

  Inside this stone building there were hundreds of bags containing various personal articles. The man took the belongings of Max and tossed them on the pile, and secured the door.

  Torture Porn

  The sun shines through the window. I close my eyes and feel the warmth upon my face. It feels magnificent. I let the rays penetrate my soul and I’m at this moment the Zen master. Nothing will ruin this instant for me. All chakras are in perfect alignment, all is centered and I’m the focal point of my own universe.

  She screams…maybe I should have sewn her mouth shut first.

  I’m pulled from my relaxation and back into the hell I love so much. I was at Zen, I’d given in to nature and accepted the fact that I am but a morsel within the cosmos…not now. Now I am god almighty and I control this domain of death before me. It is nothing short of awesome.

  This is a little whore laid out before me; a smorgasbord of tender flesh and wondrous organs to explore. This pathetic slut bag tramp was just hours ago slinging pussy to buy crack rocks. The cunt had a stem in her purse which was still hot. Now
the naked and busted bitch was tied down tight with an expensive leather bondage set I purchased online. It is amazing the things the internet provides for you.

  I once bought a book on cannibal cuisines.

  I once bought a shrunken head, authentic.

  I have heard it all so many times it makes me sick.

  Please mister, let me go and I promise not to go to the police.

  I swear, women these days have no pride and no dignity. Granted, I’ve never been at knifes edge on the verge of losing my very existence, however, I wish to believe I wouldn’t be as pathetic. The fact is they are going to die regardless, and they know this. This little slut whore hasn’t begged much yet but she did give me the sob story about kids at home. News flash for you sweetheart, your kids are better off in foster care.

  I run my hand down the right side of her face. She’s crying, my skin soaks up some tears. I feel her pain, her agony enter my flesh and run throughout my blood like heroin. I feel my legs get wobbly as I close my eyes. When I do this I’m at peace, I feel all is in control. Order has been restored and soon all will be synched with perfection. I have solved all problems within my life and the world has been fixed. I am god and-

  With my other hand I bring the hammer down hard. It’s not really a hammer, more of a rubber mallet. The impact on her jaw is quite severe nonetheless. I feel the mental foramen turn into bone rubble as the coronoid process of mandible breaks off the zygomatic arch on the left side. Three incisors, a canine, and a bicuspid tear from the gum and shoot like a bullet down the back of her throat. She gags and gargles as the shards of teeth rip gashes. She vomits and spits out the teeth as she saves herself from choking to death.

  Stupid bitch, you could have gotten out of this easy.

  I once bought a chemical called 5-methoxy-dimethyltryptamine online.

  I once bought a series of medical books online.